Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [82]
The palanquin rocked and swayed. I tried to keep still but it was impossible: the Emperor of China was not used to restraining himself. The head bearer and Chief Eunuch Shim began to talk. It seemed that the head bearer was concerned for His Majesty’s safety and wanted to stop and check. Shim knew exactly what was going on. The bearer and the eunuch argued.
One of my shoes fell off. It tumbled from the compartment and Chief Eunuch Shim picked it up. He held my shoe in front of the head bearer, who finally understood. The argument ceased. It was at this moment that Emperor Hsien Feng reached his climax. The whole palanquin shook. Shim delicately slipped the shoe back on my foot.
I was happy that our escapade lifted the Emperor from his depression. He complimented me on my pleasantness. But all was not what it seemed with me. On the surface I was pleasant, strong and self-assured, but behind my mask I felt isolated, tense and, in some vague but very real way, dissatisfied. Fear was always with me and I thought of my rivals constantly. How much longer would it be, I wondered, before another took my place? Their jealousy-pickled faces hung before me like winter fog.
I was sure that my rivals had sent spies to watch over me. The “eye” might be one of the Emperor’s own attendants. If so, he would certainly report on our activities in the palanquin. A little scandal might be made to go a long way. To the three thousand females in the Forbidden City, I was the thief who had stolen the only stallion. I was the one who had robbed them of their only chance of motherhood and happiness.
The disappearance of my cat, Snow, had been a warning. An-te-hai had found her in a well not far from my palace. Her beautiful white hair had all been pulled out. No one came forward to name the killer, nor did anyone express sympathy. In a strange coincidence, soon afterward three operas were performed on the Grand Changyi Stage. Was that an expression of victory? A celebration of revenge? I was the only concubine who was not invited to attend. I sat alone in my garden and listened to the music float over my wall.
An-te-hai had also reported another bit of gossip. A fortuneteller had visited the palace and predicted that something terrible would happen to me before the end of winter: I would be strangled to death in my sleep by the hands of a ghost. Whenever we passed one another, the expressions on the other ladies’ faces told me their thoughts. Their eyes asked, “When?”
Although I meant no harm, I was in a position to do harm. I was left with the choice of either ruining others’ lives or letting them ruin my own.
I knew exactly what was wanted from me. But would I voluntarily withdraw from His Majesty’s affection? Before I bribed Chief Eunuch Shim, my bed had been cold for months. I refused to willingly crawl beneath those sheets again.
• • •
At audiences, I discovered that the best solutions often existed between the words of those who reported the troubles. They had spent time with the subject and were able to come up with suggestions. What bothered me was that the ministers often held their true opinions back. They trusted the Son of Heaven to see things “through a god’s eye.”
It amazed me that Emperor Hsien Feng believed that he was the god’s eye. Rarely doubting his own wisdom, he sought signs to prove its heavenly source. It might be a tree split by thunder in his garden or a shooting star crossing the night sky. Su Shun encouraged Hsien Feng’s fascination with himself, convincing him that he was protected by Heaven. But when things outside the Forbidden City failed to go Hsien Feng’s way, he acted like a leaking water bag—his self-confidence spilled away.
The Emperor fell apart. When truth and understanding were kept from him, his moods swung all the more violently. One minute he would be definitive about defeating the barbarians and order the deportation of a foreign ambassador; the next minute he would despair and agree to sign a treaty that would only lead China into deeper economic disaster. In public I tried