The Last Empress - Anchee Min [92]
28
I had no idea that I would be meeting with Prince Kung for the last time. It was a gloomy overcast day in May 1898 when I received his invitation. Although he had been ill, he was a man of robust health and spirits, and everyone expected him to recover. When I arrived at his bedside, I was taken aback by his condition and knew instantly that his life was coming to an end.
"I hope you don't mind that the dying fish keeps making bubbles," Prince Kung said in a weak voice.
I asked if he would like me to bring the Emperor.
Prince Kung shook his head and closed his eyes to gather energy.
I looked around. There were cups, bowls, spittoons and basins arranged around the bed. The smell of herbal medicine in the room was unpleasant.
Prince Kung tried to sit up, but he no longer had the strength. "Sixth brother," I said, helping him up, "you shouldn't have hidden your condition."
"It's Heaven's will, sister-in-law," Prince Kung gasped. "I am glad I caught you in time."
He raised his right hand and stuck up two trembling fingers.
I drew closer.
"First, I am sorry for Tung Chih's death." Remorse filled Prince Kung's voice. "I know how you suffered ... I apologize. My son Tsai-chen deserved his end."
"Stop it, sixth brother." Tears came to my eyes.
"I never forgave Tsai-chen, and he knew it," Prince Kung said.
But it was himself he wouldn't forgive. I never had the heart to ask how Prince Kung got through the days after his son died.
"Pity the hearts of parents," I said, passing him a towel.
"I owed much to Hsien Feng." Prince Kung wiped his face with the towel. "I failed in my duty. I let Tung Chih down, and now I have to quit on Guang-hsu."
"You didn't owe Hsien Feng anything. He wrote you out of his will. If there was any duty regarding how to raise and influence Tung Chih, Hsien Feng left the power to Su Shun and his gang."
Prince Kung had to agree with what I said, although he had chosen to believe that it was Su Shun, and not his brother, who manipulated the Imperial will.
Exhausted, he closed his eyes again as if going to sleep. Looking at the prince's sallow face, I remembered the days when he was strong, handsome and full of zest. His dreams for China were great, and so was his talent. Once I had even fantasized that I had married him instead of Emperor Hsien Feng.
I suppose I had always believed that Kung would have made a better emperor. He should have been given the throne—and would have been but for the wiles of Hsien Feng's grand tutor, who counseled his student to pretend compassion toward the animals of the autumn hunt. Prince Kung outcompeted all his brothers that day, but his father was moved by the younger son's heart. It was a misfortune for the country that the crown went to Hsien Feng. And misfortune bred misfortune.
I wondered whether Prince Kung resented living in the shadow of Hsien Feng, knowing that he had been betrayed.
"If you have a question, you'd better ask before it is too late," Prince Kung said when he opened his eyes again.
The thought of losing him was unbearable. "I don't think you want to know the question I have," I said. "I don't think it is even decent for me to ask."
"Orchid, we have been each other's best friend and worst curse." Prince Kung smiled. "What more can come between us?"
So I asked if he resented his father's unfairness and his brother's theft of the kingdom.
"If I had any resentment, my own guilt took away the sting," he replied. "Do you remember September of 1861?"
"The month Hsien Feng died?"
"Yes. Remember the deal we made? It was a good deal, wasn't it?"
Back then, when we were in our twenties, we didn't know that we were making history. Prince Kung found out that he had been written out of Hsien Feng's will. He was left helpless for Su Shun to slaughter. And I faced the possibility of being buried alive, to accompany my husband on his journey to the next life.
"Su Shun had both of us in a corner," I said.
"Was it you or I who first came up with the idea of lending each other the legitimacy?" he asked.
"I can't recall.