Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [66]
Sorrow drowned me in silence. My heart floated in an ocean strangled by seaweed. The candle in the last lantern flickered and went out. The room turned black. I hadn’t noticed until now that the clouds had blocked the moon completely. The singing of the yoo-hoo-loos was joined by other insects. The symphony of this night was marvelous. I lay in the dark and watched Emperor Hsien Feng breathing peacefully in his sleep. Like a pen, my eyes traced the contours of his body.
A shaft of moonlight cut the floor. The color was white with a touch of yellow. It recalled my mother’s complexion as she watched my father die. Each day the wrinkles chewed away a bit of her, biting deeper into her skin. Then suddenly one day the lines changed the entire landscape of her face. Her skin hung as if pulled by the earth. My mother was no longer a young woman.
Slowly and silently, I removed myself from the bed. I placed the qin on the table against the wall. I put on my gown and looked out the windows. I stared at the moon and saw myself in it—a large tear-washed face.
Hsien Feng lay curled in sleep, a man dreaming a man’s dreams. Like everyone in China, I used to think of the Son of Heaven as a god-like figure, the dragon who penetrated the universe. Today I saw a man whose delicate shoulders were having trouble carrying the nation’s burden; I saw a man who sobbed over my songs, a man who grew up without a mother’s love. What was misfortune if this was not? How terrible it must have been for him when his mother hanged herself in shame and everyone lied to him while all along he knew the truth! The irony was that he would never get to be the simple man he desired to be. Tomorrow morning, in front of his audience, he had to fake himself.
Tonight had been worthy of my ruyi and my hairpin. I was glad for what I had achieved. If His Majesty forgot me tomorrow, he couldn’t erase my memory of tonight. It belonged to me. If I were to see my grave tomorrow, I would carry this night with me.
The moonlight shifted and now shone through the carved window frames. The shadows looked like embroidery spilling onto the floor. I put my cheek against the soft silky sheet of the Imperial bed and my skin against the body of the Son of Heaven. I wanted to thank him for stripping us of our titles and allowing us to touch each other the way common souls did.
At this thought I relaxed, although my fear still lingered. I prepared myself to leave the Hall of Spiritual Nurturing and never return.
Emperor Hsien Feng turned. His left arm was exposed. In the moonlight it looked as thin as a young boy’s. I would let him sleep. He was facing me now. His eyebrows were no longer furrowed. His dream must be sweet.
The yoo-hoo-loos’ singing had become discordant. It was a sign (so An-te-hai told me) that the males were finished mating and were now struggling to leave the females’ bodies. The high-pitched sounds, those of the females, were disturbing. The longer I sat, the harder they were to bear. I was forced to admit that I had fallen in love with the moment, and was dreading its end. An ache started to take hold of me. I grew more desperate with each fleeting instant.
I could kiss him, I thought. I could kiss him the way I had learned at the House of Lotus. I wished that His Majesty were the same as the customers who visited that house, for they knew pleasure and sought it at every opportunity. I wondered if Emperor Hsien Feng had ever experienced true pleasure. I sensed that he hadn’t. He didn’t seem familiar with affection. But how could I blame him? He had to rule the country, and every night it was his duty to deposit his seeds in womb after womb. Wouldn’t I be impotent too?
I heard soft footsteps. The eunuchs were coming for me.
Emperor Hsien Feng remained still. I bid a silent farewell.
There was a light knock at the door.
I stood in the moonlight.
The door was gently pushed open. Chief Eunuch Shim’s figure blocked the moon. He threw himself on the ground and bowed toward