Pheasant hesitated. He looked around, pushed away his food, and slowly, but steadily, walked to the Emperor’s table.
My heart raced faster. I had mentioned the rumor of him being the heir when we were alone together, and he had shrugged it off. But the moment had come.
“Look at all these people; look at their faces, Pheasant. And remember them. They are your servants, your advisers, your family. Understand them, understand them well, for one day, you will need their help to rule. Everyone”—the Emperor, his hands shaking as usual, held Pheasant’s shoulders—“here, I give you my heir, the future Emperor of Great China.”
The crowd roared. Waves of praise poured out of their mouths, and joyous shouts filled the hall.
My heart bloomed with happiness. Pheasant. The future Emperor of Great China!
But he looked shocked, and a shadow of panic raced across his face.
“What do you say now? You have made me proud, Pheasant,” the Emperor said, his voice less grave, his face softening with what looked like a smile. “Now sit with me and drink.”
A servant filled a goblet with some wine, and Pheasant drained it. “Father, ministers.” He paused. “I hope I will not disappoint you.”
“Praise our prince!” Secretary Fang stood and bowed. “It is our fortune to have a valiant heir!”
The other ministers all bowed, beaming with joy. Pheasant bowed back to each of them, one by one, and when he was done, he straightened, smiling, looking relaxed.
The Duke ordered the musicians to play again, and immediately, the hall was alive with the notes of zithers. Colorful ribbons whirled, and long dancing sleeves twirled. Everyone nodded, praising what a wise choice the Emperor had made.
The Duke laughed. Of course he was pleased. His enemy was dead, and Pheasant, one of his nephews, was the heir. Pheasant would be kind to him, paying him the respect and prestige that was due to an elder. And with the Emperor still unable to hold a calligraphy brush, I suspected the Duke would be indispensable for a while.
My heart swelling with happiness, I sat and watched. I wished the Noble Lady could have been there. She would have been surprised, but she would have been gracious and given Pheasant her blessing. I knew she would.
Rain, and Pheasant’s wife, Lady Wang, would rejoice too when they heard the news. I had yet to meet Lady Wang, but I would meet her very soon, whether I liked it or not, because once the announcement of Pheasant as the heir was heard by the whole kingdom the next day, both Lady Wang and Rain would relocate to the Eastern Palace, and Lady Wang, as the wife of the heir, would take over the Eastern Palace.
A few hours into the feast, the Emperor retired. The candles dimmed, the servants yawned, and the ministers fell asleep at their tables. When no one seemed to notice us, Pheasant nodded at me and slipped out. I followed. We went to a corner near a bamboo grove behind the hall.
“Ah, so good it’s quiet here,” Pheasant said as I sat next to him. The wall felt cold against my back, but I could feel the warmth from Pheasant’s arms.
“My emperor.” I dipped my head toward him.
He took a flask from his belt and sipped. “This is madness, isn’t it?”
He did not look happy. I searched for his eyes. “You will make a righteous ruler, Pheasant.”
The Emperor had once said Pheasant could not rule the kingdom because he had too much love. But he was wrong. An emperor with love did not rule a kingdom; he conquered it.
“I don’t know… It’s a serious business to rule a kingdom, Mei. I did not wish to believe it when they talked… But now…”
“You saved us. You saved everyone.”
He shrugged. “Anyone would have done the same, not just me. But Father doesn’t think so. He wants me to be the heir. He is adamant. He will announce the news to the whole kingdom tomorrow. He even promised me that he would build a Buddhist pagoda for my mother, as I requested.”
“Buddhist pagoda?”
Pheasant nodded. “Yes, I want to pay respect to her. My uncle recommends a Taoist abbey, but I want a Buddhist pagoda. After all, she was a Buddhist, and I think she would like to have an official Buddhist building dedicated to her.”
I turned to him, touched by his kindness. Buddhism, after all, was not a popular religion in our kingdom and was looked down upon by the nobles, but if Pheasant wanted to honor his mother and offer his support, perhaps people’s view of the religion would change. And many Buddhists, for sure, would benefit from that. I remembered the monastery where Mother stayed and how it was falling apart. “That is a fine idea, Pheasant. I am certain people will like that.”
“I hope so. The years have been hard on us. The rebellion, wars…”
“I know.” I sighed, leaning back. So much had happened. So many people had died…and I had nearly died too, and now Pheasant was the heir. Who would have expected that? For all the talk, the prophecy was wrong after all…
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. I was thinking about the prophecy.” When I had overheard the Uncle talking to the Chancellor, he had mentioned the Wu Man, and he had believed it was Prince Yo…
“Don’t believe it; it’s just gossip. If it had been true, Prince Yo would have lived.”
“You’re right. He was not the one.” I considered the clue again. The Wu Man, the Uncle had said. Could it be possible I was the person who would end the Emperor’s reign and rule the kingdom? Could it be possible that Tripitaka’s prediction about my fate, made so long ago, was correct after all? But then why had the prophecy mentioned a man? I did not understand it, but the thought of me being the one in the prophecy was frightening. I shivered.
“You look like you’re freezing. Come on, drink. You will warm up.” Pheasant handed me the flask. “What do you say we finish this?”
I decided to forget the prophecy. “Is that a challenge?”
He laughed. “Do you wish to have some food? I bet you are hungry. I did not see you touch anything.”
“I was too happy.” He was right. I was starving. I drank some wine and gave back the flask. “I want to ask you something, Pheasant. Will you tell me the truth?”
“What do you wish to know?”
“What will you do when you become the Emperor?” His father was stable, for now, but the rebellion and his ride to Koguryo had crippled him. It was possible he would never recover…or he could have another mysterious attack, and then he might never wake up. The forbidden thought leaped into my mind, and I hastened to smother it.
Pheasant gulped some wine and wiped his mouth. “I will make your wish come true. Any wish.” Then he put up one finger.
“Only one?” I laughed. The sensation of the alcohol, or perhaps the prospect of a beautiful future that I had never imagined before, brewed in my head.
“Yes, make it good.”
“I would like to have a copy of The Art of War.” I wanted to read the master’s words again and explore all those direct and indirect methods. Who knew? I might understand them better this time.
“Done. I shall steal it for you.”
“I’m counting on you,” I said. “But seriously, is this what you’re going to do when you’re the Emperor? Steal?”
“No, of course not. I will order you to drink the whole flask, get drunk, and lie down with me.”
I did not get a chance to speak before he pulled me into his arms. I gazed at him. A surge of euphoria filled me, and my head felt light with sweetness. I raised my head to kiss him. He tasted like wine, but he was stronger and more savory than any spirit.
After a while, we lay together, our arms behind our heads. It was so dark, and I could see only the two red lanterns near the feasting hall. Flute notes lingered and drifted toward us, growing faint, and finally it was lost in the wind.
“Look.” I pointed up. “There is the moon. So bright.”
In the sky, the
stars blossomed like silver flowers floating in a black river, and the clouds flowed slowly, like spilled ink. The full moon, bright and serene, cast a luminous net around us. What a fine night it turned out to be.
“Remember once when we were in the garden?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I told you about the story of Chang E, who wanted immortality rather than her husband. You said she was foolish.”
“I said that?”
“You forgot?”
“Well, I still think she is. But never mind that now.” He stroked my shoulder. “When I become the emperor of the kingdom, you will be the empress. The empress of bright moon.”
I turned to him. What about his wife, Lady Wang? But I knew Pheasant did not care for her, and he looked so serious, and I knew I should trust him. “You mean it?”
He squeezed my hand and nodded.
I smiled. His voice wove around me like a spell of promise. The empress of bright moon. I liked the sound of that. Father would have liked it too. I was twenty-two years of age. It was not too old to be an empress, was it?
Above my head, the stars flickered like shiny seeds. Near them was the moon, inside which the fabled palace radiated. It did not look so lonely or distant; in fact, it looked closer, and it seemed to walk toward me, approaching me, beckoning to me. All I had to do was reach out and touch it.
Order Weina Dai Randel's next book
The Empress of Bright Moon
On sale April 2016
Click here!
Author’s Note
The story of Wu Mei is based on a historical figure, the one and only female ruler in China, Wu Zetian, also known as Empress Wu. All the male characters in the novel, except the eunuchs, are actual historical figures; some of the female characters, including the Noble Lady and Mei’s mother, are real women who lived and were recorded in history as well. Others, such as Jewel, Plum, Daisy, and the other Ladies, are fictional.
The birth date of Wu Mei was not recorded. It is likely that she was two years older than Pheasant, but in the novel, I chose to portray them as the same age. It is also unknown whether Mei had a romance with Pheasant while she was serving Emperor Taizong.
The formal name of Emperor Taizong’s firstborn son, the heir, was Li Chengqian, but I chose to use Taizi, which means “the crown prince” in Chinese. It is unknown whether he was homosexual, but records showed he was rather attached to his Turkic heritage.
The assassination attempt on Emperor Taizong and the rebellion of Li Chenqian and Prince Yo appear in historical records, but the two princes’ plots were planned separately and were discovered before they caused damage to the palace.
All the quotes from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War were translated by Lionel Giles (1875–1958), with one slight change in the line “ju qiu hao bu wei duo li.” Giles translated it as “To lift an autumn’s hair is no sign of great strength.” I changed it to “To lift a feather is no sign of great strength,” as “qiu hao” refers to a very fine down feather in the autumn in archaic Chinese.
I used the modern pinyin system for the majority of the Chinese names, but I used the names of Confucius, Lao Tzu, and Sun Tzu as they are commonly known to English readers.
The city Chang’an is now known as Xi’an. The kingdom Koguryo is now the modern North Korea.
Reading Group Guide
1. How much did you know about the palace women in ancient China before you read this novel? In what ways do you think the palace women in China were similar to those in Europe?
2. Discuss the many facades of love in the novel and how it manifests itself in the following characters: Mei, Pheasant, Jewel, Emperor Taizong, Taizi, and the Noble Lady.
3. Discuss the theme of deception. How does the Emperor deceive the kingdom? How does Jewel deceive the Emperor and the other women?
4. The novel opens with the monk’s prediction of Mei’s destiny. How would you define the concept of destiny? How does Mei perceive her destiny?
5. Compare the relationship between Mei and Jewel and the relationship between Mei and the Noble Lady.
6. For nearly two thousand years, Confucius’s instruction of five virtues—filial piety, tolerance, courtesy, faith, and wisdom—determined the values of ancient China. Describe how filial piety is demonstrated in Mei and how it motivates and suppresses her.
7. Have you heard of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War? Do you think the master’s insight in strategies set up a tone for this novel? Do you think the master’s teaching helps Mei in the Inner Court? How?
8. Silkworm farming was an important industry in ancient China, and silkworms were often revered, but Mei is forced to destroy them in the novel. Do you agree with what she did?
9. Discuss the relationship between Mei and Pheasant. When does their relationship begin to grow? At what point does it begin to deepen and change?
10. How would you describe Jewel’s character? Do you consider her to be a sympathetic figure or an evil one?
11. Discuss the intricate relationships within the imperial family. How do these relationships affect the Emperor and his sons?
12. What do you think the title The Moon in the Palace means?
13. The descriptions of nature, animals, birds, and sceneries are very rich in this novel. Discuss the symbols of the sun, snow, and rain. Where do you see them? What do you think they symbolize?
14. If you were one of the Emperor’s hundreds of concubines confined in the Yeting Court and Inner Court, how would you attempt to rise within the palace hierarchy?
Read on for an excerpt from
the Empress of Bright Moon
Available April 2016 from Sourcebooks Landmark
1
Would he die tonight?
The thought flickered in my mind as I dabbed at a brown stain on the Emperor’s chin. He did not respond, not even to twitch his lips or blink. He lay there, his mouth open, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The right side of his face was a ruinous pool of skin, and his good left eye was opaque, like a marble that the light of candles failed to penetrate. Now and then, there seemed to be a spark in that eye, as though his old valor was struggling to come to life, to surface, to fight the fate that conquered him, but the light flashed like a fish in a murky pond. It was there, swimming, but it did not come up to the surface, not even for a breath of air.
He did not see me. He was gone, I could tell—a once-powerful whirlwind of wrath and will, now a bag of slackened skin, a shell of vaunting vanity.
I straightened, and an ache shot through my back. How long had I been kneeling at the bedside, watching him? I could not remember. All of us—the Talents, Graces, and Beauties, once the bedmates of the Emperor—had been his caretakers for the past ten months. Every day, we took turns feeding him, cleaning him—for he had long ago lost the ability to control his fluid—and carefully we watched him, listening to his every labored breath and every painful groan.
When the Emperor had announced Pheasant as the heir of the kingdom last year, he had been frail, and he had collapsed a few days later, shaken by the mysterious hand that had tormented him all these years. Writhing, gushing white foam from his mouth, he fell out of a stretcher on the way to his bedchamber and had not wakened since.
The water dropped in the water clock beside me. Nine. Where were they? They must hurry…
I rose, patting the side of my Cloudy Chignon, the elaborate hairstyle I had finally mastered. A few strands had fallen on my shoulders, and the loose knot that should have sat on top of my head had slumped sadly to my right ear. I wished I could make myself look more presentable, but we were not allowed to leave the chamber. The physicians had ordered me and the other Talents to stay with the Emperor at all times. I had not bathed for two months, or looked at myself in the bronze mirror, or put on my white face cream. My hair, which had once been soft and fragrant, now felt heavy and lumpy on my neck, and the green robe I wore had turn
ed brown, stained with splashes of herbal remedies.
The thought whispered to me again. I peered at him. What if he died tonight? What would happen to me and the other women who served him when he did die? I quickly smothered the thoughts. I should not think of those questions, for it was treason to ponder on the Emperor’s mortality…
But all the titled women in the Inner Court must have wondered about their fate these months while he lay there unresponsive. After all, it was the unspoken law that we, as the Emperor’s women, should never feel the warmth of another man’s arms again after the Emperor’s death. There must have been a plan for us. Yet no one openly talked about it, even though the ladies gathered together in the courtyard every morning, whispering, their eyes misty with tears.
I wished I could listen to the Duke and the Secretary, the two highest-ranking ministers, when they came to visit the Emperor. But they had many important matters to discuss and did not seem to pay attention to us. And Pheasant. He was busy too, and I had not yet had an opportunity to ask him about our fate.
But no matter what the plan was for us, I knew one thing was for sure: after the Emperor’s death, Pheasant—my Pheasant—would be the ruler of the kingdom. He would look after me and my future.
And he had promised… The empress of bright moon, he said…
My heart warm with joy, I glanced at the doors. Pheasant and the Duke should have arrived by now. I wondered what the delay was.
The Moon in the Palace (The Empress of Bright Moon Duology) Page 34