The Last Empress - Anchee Min [89]
I tried to let go of small matters. For example, I did not pursue his punishment when Li Lien-ying poked a hole ("to let out the air") in all of my champagne bottles—Li Hung-chang's gifts from France. The eunuch believed that the popping sound would harm me.
Throughout 1896 I had worked daily with Emperor Guang-hsu and was pleased with his progress. He desperately tried to catch up on the court's business but faced tremendous obstacles, and getting things organized was our first step. I rose early and walked the stone bridges to get my mind ready for the day. I watched the lotus from their early budding to their final blooming. I caught the first flower, which opened on a summer dawn.
I felt at odds with the tranquility of the setting. As I watched my eunuchs plunging waist-deep in the mire to extract lotus roots for my breakfast, my mind struggled with whether or not I should press the Emperor to approve Li Hung-chang's recent proposal to secure additional loans. We were behind in our current payments, and the foreign banks were threatening. It was clear to us that the foreign powers were after our territories and were looking for any pretext to invade.
When the stir-fried lotus roots were served, Guang-hsu had no appetite. I sat beside him but had no words to comfort him. By now I had learned that Guang-hsu most often craved to be left alone. I had been worrying about his health, but I dared not utter a question or even encourage him to pick up his chopsticks.
After finishing my meal, I quickly rinsed my mouth and went into the office to prepare for the morning audiences. Guang-hsu would follow in a few minutes. I would wait for the eunuchs to finish dressing him and we would get into our palanquins.
Withdrawing from audiences in the afternoon, Guang-hsu and I would continue to discuss the day's issues. Often we had to summon ministers and officials for detailed information. When Guang-hsu saw me begin to yawn, he would beg me to stop and relax. I would ask him for a cigarette, and he would light it for me. I would smoke and continue to work until dark.
"China has given no offense, has done no wrong, does not wish to fight, and is willing to make sacrifices," Robert Hart's article read. "She is a big 'sick' man, convalescing slowly from the sickening effects of centuries, and is being jumped on when down by this agile, healthy, well-armed Jap—will no one pull him off?"
Guang-hsu and I hoped that Hart's remarks would help China gain sympathy and support from the rest of the world. Unfortunately, things went in the opposite direction. Our defeat by Japan only encouraged the Western powers to take further advantage of us. "The worm has reduced the stout fabric of China to handfuls of dust"—the remnants were there for anybody to take.
We had lost Korea, and our new navy lay in ruins. After slavishly emulating Chinese civilization for centuries, the Japanese had nothing but supercilious scorn for the true fountainhead of Eastern wisdom. The world seemed to have forgotten that as recently as 1871, Japan had paid tribute to China as a vassal state.
Like everyone else, Guang-hsu suspected that Li Hung-chang had cut private deals with the foreigners for his own benefit. "Li could have done better with the treaties," he insisted. Guang-hsu's only evidence was that Li Hung-chang entrusted his son-in-law with the military supplies of the army.
"That's because Li's experience with your uncles, brothers and cousins was so terrible," I told him. "Li has committed no corruption—it is the way of China to rely on personal connections. Focus on what you have gained. Li has succeeded in securing the funding to rebuild the navy."
"I can't forgive him for squandering the opportunity for an early defense!" Guang-hsu's voice pierced through the hallway. "He sold us down the river!"
Guang-hsu couldn't live with the fact that we had been forced to sign the Shimonoseki