The Last Empress - Anchee Min [40]
Tsai-t'ien was underweight for his age and his movements appeared wooden. His nurses reported that he would cry through the night, while his mother continued to believe that feeding her child a full meal would kill him.
The child's father encouraged the adoption. "I am willing to do everything to help my son escape his mother," Prince Ch'un told me. "Isn't it enough that three of my sons have died under your sister's care?" When I expressed concern about his own separation from Tsai-t'ien, he said he would be fine, since he had children with his other wives and concubines.
Next the court heard a report on the character and history of the nominee's father. I was not surprised that Prince Ch'un was found to be a man of "double characters." I had learned from my husband, Emperor Hsien Feng, that "brother Ch'un would tremble in every limb and fall into a faint at his father's temper." And yet he was also "the big braggart" of the family. Prince Ch'un represented the hardliners of the Manchu clan. While claiming to have no interest in politics, he had been a longtime rival of his own brother Prince Kung.
"My husband can't help but be a man of honesty because his lies are too dumb," my sister used to say. Prince Ch'un was tireless in telling the world about his philosophy of life. He constantly expressed his disgust of power and wealth. Displayed in his living room was a couplet of his own calligraphy warning his children of how wealth would corrupt, destroy and cause disaster. "Without power means without danger," the couplet read. "And without wealth means without disaster." Although Ch'un was a prince, he neither held significant titles nor performed court duties. Nevertheless, he had not been shy about demanding increases in his annual taels. He even criticized Prince Kung, complaining about his brother's compensation for hosting parties for foreign diplomats.
Despite all that, and with Yung Lu working in the background to persuade the clan members, the court gave its approval of Prince Ch'un. Tsai-t'ien was seriously considered and finally chosen. The last remaining obstacle was that Tsai-t'ien was Tung Chih's first cousin and by law could not officiate at Tung Chih's grave. In other words, Tung Chih could not adopt his cousin as a son and heir.
After days of debate, the court decided to have another open vote.
Outside the wind blew, and the lanterns in the hall flickered. The votes were counted: seven men voted for Prince Ts'eng's grandson P'u-lun, three voted for Prince Kung's son Tsai-chen, and fifteen voted for Prince Ch'un's son, my nephew Tsai-t'ien.
While Prince Ch'un told the court that it would be unnecessary to secure the approval of his wife regarding the official adoption of Tsait'ien, I made it clear that the decision would not become valid until the court received Rong's assent.
Knee-high weeds clogged the lawns and ivy covered the pathways. Inside my sister's grand mansion, diapers, food, dishes, bottles, toys and stained pillows were strewn about. Roaches darted across the floor and flies zipped through windows. Rong's eunuchs and maids whispered to Li Lien-ying that their mistress allowed no cleaning.
"Orchid!" Rong came to greet me. She looked as if she had just climbed out of bed. She wore floral-patterned, bright pink pajamas, and on her head was a woolen hat suitable for a snowstorm. Her breath gave off a rotten odor. I asked how she had been and why she wore the hat.
"Strange creatures have invaded my mind," Rong said, guiding me through her cluttered hallway. "I have been having headaches."
We entered the living room and she collapsed into a large armchair. "The creatures have been feeding on me." Pulling over a silver tray filled with cookies, she began to eat. "They love sweets, you see. They leave me alone every time I eat cookies. Tricky creatures, nasty."
My sister was no longer slim