Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [93]
By the time my palanquin arrived at Lady Jin’s palace the body had already been washed. She was moved from her bedroom to lin chuang, a “soul bed,” which was in the shape of a boat. Her Majesty’s feet were tied with red strings. She was dressed in a full-length silver court robe embroidered with symbols of every kind. There were fortune wheels, representing the principles of the universe; seashells in which one could hear the voice of the Buddha; oil-paper umbrellas that protected the seasons from flood and drought; vials that held the fluid of wisdom and magic; lotus flowers representing generations of peace; goldfish for balance and grace; and finally the symbol , which stood for infinity. A golden sheet printed with Buddhist scriptures wrapped her from chest to knees.
A palm-sized mirror with a long handle was placed beside Her Majesty. It was said to protect the dead from being disturbed by mean-spirited ghosts. The mirror would reflect the ghosts’ own images. Because most ghosts had no idea what they looked like, they would expect to see themselves as they were when alive. Instead, the evil things they had done in the past would have transformed them into skeletons, grotesque monsters or worse. The mirror would shock them into retreat.
Lady Jin’s head looked like a big pile of dough from all the powder on her face. An-te-hai told me that in her last days boils had erupted all over her face. In the record, her doctor wrote that the “buds” on Her Majesty’s body “bloomed” and produced “nectar.” The boils were black and green, like a rotten potato sprouting shoots. The whole Forbidden City gossiped that it must have been the work of her former rival, Empress Chu An.
Lady Jin’s face had been smoothed and patched with powder from ground pearls. If one looked closely, however, one could still detect the bumps. On the right side of Her Majesty’s head was a tray with a golden ceramic bowl. This contained her last earthly meal, rice. On the left stood a large burning oil lamp, the “eternal light.”
I went with Nuharoo and Emperor Hsien Feng’s other wives to view the body. We were all dressed in white silk gowns. Nuharoo wore makeup but without the rouge dot on her lower lip. She burst into tears when she saw Lady Jin. She pulled a piece of lace from her hair and bit it with her teeth in order to hold back her emotions. I was moved by her sadness and offered her my hand. We stood shoulder to shoulder before the dead Empress.
A mourning troupe arrived. They cried in various styles. The sound was more like singing than crying. It reminded me of the discordant music of a village band. Maybe it was how I felt—I had just escaped the curse. My mood was lightened and I felt little sadness.
Lady Jin had never liked me. She said openly after learning I was pregnant that she wished the news had come from Nuharoo. She believed that I had stolen Emperor Hsien Feng from Nuharoo.
I remembered the last time I encountered Lady Jin. Her health was declining but she refused to admit it. Disregarding the fact that everyone knew about the peach-pit-sized stone, she claimed that her health had never been more robust. She rewarded doctors who lied to her and said that her longevity was not in doubt. But her body gave away her flaws. When she pointed a finger and tried to tell me that I was bad, her hand trembled. It looked like she was getting ready to strike me. She tried to fight off her trembling. Eventually she fell back and couldn’t sit up without help from her eunuchs. That didn’t stop her from cursing me. “You illiterate!” she cried. I didn’t understand her choice of epithet. None of the other ladies, except perhaps Nuharoo, was more accomplished than I was in reading.
I tried to avoid Lady Jin’s lifeless eyes. I looked above her eyebrows when I had to face her. Her broad wrinkled forehead reminded me of a painting I had once seen of the Gobi Desert. Folds of skin hung from her chin. The loss of her teeth on her right side made her face slope like a spoiled melon.