by Anchee Min
We went quiet for a while. “His Majesty probably hates the ladies forced on him by his mother and the eunuchs,” Mother continued. “He must feel like a hog led by the nose.”
“Orchid, what are you going to do?” Rong asked. “If you obey the rules, you will attract no attention from the Emperor; but if you try to be alluring, and His Majesty desires you, the Grand Empress may remove your limbs!”
“Let’s go to the Temple of Mercy and consult your father’s spirit,” Mother said.
We had to climb hundreds of steps to reach the temple, on the top of Goose Mountain. We lit incense and paid the most expensive contribu-tion. But I didn’t receive any advice from my father’s spirit. My mind was troubled, and I was very aware that I was on my own.
Father’s grave was on the side of the mountain facing the northwest part of Peking. His coffin lay under knee-high grass. The graveyard keeper was an old man who smoked a clay pipe. He told us not to worry about robbers. “The dead are known for their debts in this area,” he said, and advised that the best way to pay our father respect was to purchase a lot higher up on the hillside, in the sunnier area.
I gave fifty taels to the man and asked him to guard my father from wild dogs, who dug up the bodies for food. The man was so shocked by my generosity that he dropped his pipe.
Gifts in huge boxes from the Imperial palace arrived. Every inch of our house was filled. The boxes were piled on the tables and beds. There was no place to sit or sleep. Still the gifts kept pouring in. One morning, six Mongolian horses were delivered. There were paintings, antiques, bolts of silk and embroidery from Soochow. Besides magnificent jewelry, splendid garments and headwear and shoes were given to me. My mother was given gold tea sets, silver pots and copper basins.
The neighbors were ordered to lend us their homes for storage. Large pits were dug in the ground around the neighborhood to serve as coolers, to stock meat and vegetables for the coming celebration banquet. Hundreds of jars of century-old wine were ordered, plus eighty lambs, sixty pigs and two hundred chickens and ducks.
On the eighth of the month the banquet was held. The head eunuch, who was in charge, invited a thousand people, among them nobles, ministers, court officials and Imperial relatives. Each guest was served twenty courses, and the meal lasted three days.
My time, though, was unbearable. I could hear the singing, laughing and shouting of drunkards through the walls, but I was not allowed to join the banquet. I was no longer permitted even to expose myself to light. I was shut in a room decorated with red and gold ribbons. Dry squashes painted with children’s faces were hung around the room, and I was told to stare at the faces to boost my fertility.
My mother brought me food and water, and my sister came to keep me company. My brother was being trained by the head eunuch to perform my father’s duty—to see me off when the day came. Every six hours, a messenger sent by the Emperor updated my family on what was going on in the Forbidden City.
I didn’t learn until later that Nuharoo had been the choice not only of the Grand Empress but of the clan elders as well. The decision that she would be the Empress had actually been made a year before. It had taken the court eight months of debate to reach the conclusion. The honorary treatment given Nuharoo’s family was five times what mine received. She was going to enter the Forbidden City through the center gate while the rest of us would go through a side gate.
Many years later people would say that I was jealous of Nuharoo, but I wasn’t at the time. I was overwhelmed by my own good fortune. I couldn’t forget the flies covering my father’s coffin and my mother’s having to sell her hairpin. I couldn’t forget the fact that I had been engaged to cousin Ping. I couldn’t thank Heaven enough for what was happening to me.
In the small red room I wondered what my future would hold. I had so many questions regarding how to live my life as Emperor Hsien Feng’s fourth concubine. But my biggest question was, who is Emperor Hsien Feng? As a bride and groom we hadn’t even spoken.
I dreamed about becoming His Majesty’s favorite. I was sure that all the concubines dreamed the same dream. Would there be harmony? Would it be possible for His Majesty to distribute his essence equally among us?
My experience growing up in the Yehonala household offered no help in preparing my way. My father had had no concubines. “He couldn’t afford one,” Mother once joked. In fact my father didn’t need one—he couldn’t get enough of my mother. I used to think that this was the way it should be, a man and a woman entirely devoted to each other. No matter how much they might suffer, having each other was happiness itself. This was the theme of my favorite operas. Characters survived to enjoy the rewards of a happy ending. My hopes had been high until Cousin Ping was pushed into my face. Now my life seemed to be gliding on a piece of watermelon skin—I had no idea where it would lead me. Trying to keep a balance was all I could do.
Big Sister Fann used to say that in real life, marriage was a market in which women competed for the highest bidder. And like any business, no one should confuse a rabbit with a squirrel—your worth says who you are.
The day my father died, I learned to separate wishful thinking from reality when his former friends turned up to reclaim a debt. I also learned something from my uncle by the way he treated us. Mother once told me that one had to lower one’s head when passing under low eaves in order to avoid injury. “Wishful thinking does not give me dignity,” Big Sister Fann used to say. “There is not one mother in the world who is happy to sell her child, but she sells her.”
My uncle and Cousin Ping came to see me, and they had to get down on their knees. When Uncle bowed and called me Your Majesty, Ping laughed. “Father, that’s Orchid!” The head eunuch slapped his face before Ping finished the phrase.
It was too late for Uncle to mend our relationship. He was nice only because he wanted to benefit from my status. He forgot too quickly what he had done. It was unfortunate, because I would have loved to help him.
Rong came to me as soon as Uncle and Ping stepped out. After rambling for a long time, she came to the point. “If you see any possibility, Orchid, I would like to marry a prince or a minister of the court.” I promised that I would keep my eyes open for her. She held me and wept. My parting was harder on her than on me.
June 26, 1852, had been announced as the wedding day of His Majesty Emperor Hsien Feng. The night before, Kuei Hsiang had taken a walk through the streets of Peking and was excited by what he saw.
“There are celebrations everywhere,” my brother reported. “Every family has hung a large ceremonial lantern in front of its door. Fireworks are being shot from the rooftops. People are dressed in bright red and green. The main boulevards are decorated with lanterns for miles and miles. All the couplets hanging in the air read, ‘We wish the Imperial union to be an everlasting one!’”
The Forbidden City started its celebration at dawn. Gate-to-gate red carpets were laid for receiving the brides and guests. From the Gate of Zenith to the Palace of Supreme Harmony, from the Palace of Heavenly Purity to the Palace of Universal Plenty, there were hundreds of thousands of red silk lanterns. The lanterns were decorated with the images of stars and battle axes. Also hung were umbrellas made of apricot-colored satin embroidered with lotus flowers. Columns and beams were draped with red silk embroidered with the character shee, happiness.
This morning tables were set in the cavernous Hall of Celestial Purity, where the Record Book of Imperial Marriages was placed. Two Imperial orchestras set up outside the hall—one to the east and the other to the west. Ceremonial flags filled the hall. From the Gate of Eternal Harmony to the Gate of Zenith, about a three-mile distance, twenty-eight palanquins waited, ready to fetch the brides from their homes.
The palanquin that was to carry me was the largest I’d ever seen. There were windows on three sides, covered with red cloth embroidered with a shee. The roof over the chair was laced with golden threads. On top of the roof were two small stage-like platforms. On one stood tw
o golden peacocks, each holding in its beak a red brush—the symbol of the highest authority, intelligence and virtue. On the second stood four gold phoenixes—symbols of beauty and femininity. In the center of the roof was the Ball of Harmony—the symbol of unity and infinity. I was to be accompanied by one hundred eunuchs, eighty court ladies and two thousand guards of honor.
I woke before dawn and was surprised to see my room full of people. My mother was kneeling in front of me. Behind her were eight women. I had been notified of their coming the night before. They were manfoos, Imperial ladies of honor, the wives of well-respected clansmen. They came at Emperor Hsien Feng’s request to help me dress for the ceremony.
I tried to keep a cheerful face, but tears welled up in my eyes.
The manfoos begged to learn what was bothering me.
I said, “It’s hard for me to rise when my mother is on her knees.”
“Orchid, you must learn to get used to the etiquette,” Mother said. “You are Lady Yehonala now. Your mother is honored to consider herself your servant.”
“It’s time for Your Majesty’s bath,” one of the manfoos said.
“May I now rise, Lady Yehonala?” Mother asked.
“Rise! Please!” I cried, and jumped off the bed.
Slowly Mother rose. It was obvious that her knees were killing her.
The ladies of honor quickly moved to a side room and started to prepare my bath.
Mother led me to the tub. It was a giant bucket, which had been delivered by the head eunuch. Mother closed the curtain and dipped her hand into the water to feel the temperature.
The manfoos offered to undress me. I pushed them away and insisted that I undress myself.
Mother stopped me. “Remember, it will be considered an embarrassment to His Majesty if you do any labor yourself.”
“I’ll follow the rules once I am inside the palace.”
Mother wouldn’t listen, and the manfoos finally stripped me, then excused themselves and retreated quietly.
Mother applied the soap to my skin. She started to rub my shoul-ders and back and ran her fingers through my black hair. It was the longest bath I had ever had. By her touch it felt as if she were having me to herself for the last time.
I studied her face: her skin pale as a radish, her neatly combed hair, the wrinkles spreading around her eyes. I wanted to get out of the tub and embrace her. I wanted to say, “Mother, I am not leaving!” I wanted her to know that without her there would be no happiness.
But I uttered not one word. I was afraid of disappointing her. I knew that in her mind I represented my father’s dream and the honor of the entire Yehonala clan. The night before, the rules had been explained to me by the head eunuch. I would not be permitted to visit my mother after I entered the Forbidden City. Mother had to apply for and obtain permission to see me, but only in an emergency. The minister of the Imperial household had to verify whether the matter was urgent or serious enough before granting permission. The same rule applied if I wanted to leave the palace to visit my family.
The idea of not being able to see my family frightened me, and I began to cry.
“Chin up, Orchid.” Mother took a towel and began to dry me. “You should be embarrassed for weeping like this.”
I put my wet arms around her neck. “I hope that happiness shall enhance your health.”
“Yes, yes.” Mother smiled. “The tree of my longevity has shot up a foot since last night.”
Rong entered the room dressed in a pale green silk robe with golden butterflies on it. She got down on her knees and bowed to me. Her voice was filled with delight when she said, “I am proud to be an Imperial relative.”
Before I could speak with Rong, a eunuch outside announced, “Duke Kuei Hsiang is here to see Lady Yehonala.”
“Honored.” This time the words got out of my mouth smoothly.
My brother stumbled in. “Orchid—uh, Lady … Lady Yehonala, His uh … His Majesty Emperor Hsien Feng has …”
“On your knees first.” Mother corrected his manners.
Kuei Hsiang clumsily adjusted his pose. His left foot caught the corner of his robe and he fell.
Rong and I started to giggle.
Kuei Hsiang made sloppy bows. His hands were folded below his chest, which made him look like he was nursing a stomachache.
“About one candle-time ago,” Kuei Hsiang said after he settled himself, “His Majesty finished dressing and entered his dragon chair.”
“What does his chair look like?” Rong asked with excitement.
“It has nine dragons under straight-handled canopies of yellow satin. His Majesty went to the Palace of Benevolence to meet with the Grand Empress. By now he should have completed the ceremony in the Hall of Supreme Harmony and should be inspecting the Record Book of Imperial Marriages. After that, he will receive congratulations from the ministers. And after that …”
A loud noise cracked the sky.
“The outer-court ceremony has begun!” Kuei Hsiang cried. “His Majesty must be putting his signature in the record book. In a moment he will be giving the order to the guards of honor to fetch the Imperial brides!”
I sat like a peony blooming in the morning light. My dress was a medley of many reds. Rich magenta spiked with yellow, wine sparked with cream, warm lavender spilling to nearly blue. The dress was constructed with eight layers of silk and was embroidered with vigorous spring flowers, real and imaginary. The fabric was woven with gold and silver threads. It bore large clusters of jade, pearls and other jewels. I had never worn anything so beautiful, or so heavy and uncomfortable.
My hair was piled a foot high and draped with pearls, jade, coral and diamonds. In the front were three large fresh-picked purple-pink peonies. I feared that it would all come loose and the ornaments would fall. I dared not move, and my neck already felt stiff. Eunuchs walked around and talked in low voices. Court officers whom I had never seen before filled the house. As if on a stage, everyone was dressed and moved according to an invisible script.
Mother kept grabbing the head eunuch’s sleeves, asking repeatedly if something had gone wrong. Irritated, the eunuch sent his assistants, teenage boys, to distract her. The boys held her to a chair. They smiled and begged her not to give them a hard time.
The main room of the house had been cleared for the chieh-an, a table specially made to hold the Emperor’s record book and the stone Imperial stamp. The left and right chambers were also cleared and set with tables for incense burners. In front of the tables were mats on which I would kneel when receiving the marriage decree. On each side of the mats stood eunuchs dressed in shiny yellow robes. I felt exhausted, but the head eunuch said we still had a long way to go before the ceremony would start.
Two candle-times passed. Finally I heard the sound of hooves. The eight ladies of honor quickly retouched my makeup. They sprayed me with a strong-scented perfume and checked my dress and headwear before helping me out of my chair.
As I lifted myself, I felt like a big rusty carriage. My jewel-laden belts clanked as they dragged over the chair and fell to the floor.
Imperial Guards and eunuchs filled the street. Kuei Hsiang, who had been waiting by the front gate, received His Majesty’s ambassador. On his knees, Kuei Hsiang stated my father’s name and recited a brief welcome speech. As he spoke, he knocked his forehead on the ground three times and bowed nine times. A moment later I heard my name called by the ambassador. The ladies of honor quickly formed a wall on either side of me. I stepped out the door and moved slowly toward the chieh-an.
Standing before me was a rabbit-faced eunuch in heavy makeup. He was the ambassador, dressed in a glittering yellow gown. On his hat was a peacock feather and a red diamond. He avoided looking at me. After offering me three deep bows, he “invited in” three objects. One was a little yellow case from which he took a yellow silk scroll. It was the decree. The second one was the Record Book of Imperial Marriages. The last one was a stone stamp with my name and title carved on the su
rface.
Following the eunuch, I performed the ceremony in front of the tables. I bowed and knocked my forehead on the ground so many times that I became dizzy. I worried that things would start to fall from my hair. After this, I received blessings from my family.
My mother came first, followed by Rong, my uncle and Cousin Ping. They got down on their knees and bowed to the ambassador and then to me. Mother trembled so much that one of her headpieces began to slide from its place.
“Rise,” I quickly said, trying to stop the piece from slipping.
The eunuchs carried the record book and the stone stamp over to the incense-burner tables. The eunuchs seemed to strain under their weight.
I took off my satin cape as the etiquette instructed and bowed toward the book and the stamp. Afterward I stayed in the kneeling position and turned to face north.
The ambassador opened the scroll and began to read from the decree. He had a deep, resonant voice, but I couldn’t understand a word he said. It took me a while to realize that he was reading the decree in two languages, Manchu and Mandarin, both in stylized ancient tones. My father once told me that when he worked in his office, he usually skipped the Manchu parts of reports and moved directly to the Chinese parts to save time.
The weight on my head made me feel like I was a snail carrying a house on my back. As the reading went on I glanced toward the hallway. It was packed with guards. On the center terrace two palanquins were waiting. Why two, I wondered. Wasn’t I the only one to be picked up from this house?
When the ambassador finished his reading I discovered the reason for the second palanquin. The eunuchs put the decree, the record book and the stone stamp back into their cases. Then these objects were “invited” to “sit” in the second palanquin. The ambassador explained that these things were now considered part of me.
“The Imperial phoenix walking!” At the ambassador’s call my family fell to their knees for the last time. By now Mother’s makeup was a mess, and she wiped her tears with her hands, forgetting her appearance.