by Zoey Gong
I see several women working, sweating over a kettle of boiling rice and a wok of frying meats among other activities. My mouth starts to water as I smell the food cooking and see the shelves of vegetables, rice, and flour. A whole side of pork hangs from the ceiling, along with several chickens, ducks, and fish that have either been dried or smoked.
I’m torn between wanting to be polite and feeling a ravening hunger tear at my insides. When I see a steam basket of baozi—meat buns—sitting on a table, probably left over from breakfast, I cannot control myself. I grab one of the buns and take a bite, quickly working my way through the chewy dough and nearly crying when I taste the savory meat. I eat so quickly, I’m panting for breath when I’m through—and the other two buns on the table are still calling to me.
I see Ah Lam standing next to me. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and begin apologizing profusely for my behavior.
“So, you are a lady’s companion, are you?” she asks, and I know she doesn’t believe for a moment that I am who Mingxia claimed. I say nothing. It would insult both of us for me to continue to lie, but neither would I betray the promise I made to Mingxia in the rickshaw.
The woman gives a small nod toward the last two baozi. “Go ahead,” she says, and I don’t argue.
When I’m finished, I look around and see that Ah Lam has placed a large bucket in the middle of the room. She has several smaller buckets filled with water beside her as well.
“Come on,” she says, “step in.”
I tentatively do as she says.
“Not even any shoes,” Ah Lam says with a tisk as she shakes her head. “Where did she scrounge you up?” she mutters to herself. “All right, off with your clothes.”
I wrap my arms around myself. Of course, I was used to washing in front of my family, but these women are strangers. I take a breath and look at the wall as I begin to unwrap my shirt. As soon as I’m naked, Ah Lam dumps one of the buckets of cold water over my head and I shriek. I usually just use a rag and dip that into the water, I don’t dump the water onto myself.
Ah Lam then works her hands into a lather and runs them through my hair, scrubbing my scalp. “Calm down, I’m not killing you. Just the lice and fleas you’ve undoubtedly got.”
I clench my teeth as she washes my hair and body and then dumps another bucket of water over my head. She then hands me a large cloth to dry off with and orders me out of the tub. I reach down to get my clothes off the ground, but Ah Lam grabs them first and tosses them into a nearby cooking fire.
“Hey! Those were mine!”
“You won’t be needing those rags anymore, dear,” Ah Lam says, not unkindly. “I have some of the young miss’s cast-off clothes for you.” She then kicks a pair of soft-soled slippers to me and wraps me in a sheet.
“Follow me.”
As I shuffle behind her back to the courtyard toward the main door, I notice that a few more people have appeared—more maids and a couple of men who look like they do more laborious tasks—and are watching me, whispering behind their hands. They must all be wondering who I am and why I am here. I doubt any of them believe for a moment that I am to be a companion for Lihua.
We go back to the carved dragon wall and to the side walkway I saw just inside the main door. The courtyard here is open to the sky and there is a long wall of doors for small rooms. I see a maid exit one of the rooms, pulling the door closed behind her, and she stops and watches me with a gaped mouth. I realize that these must be the servants’ rooms.
Ah Lam opens the very last door and I follow her inside. The room is dark and dusty, having not been used for some time. There is a plain wooden bed, a couple of blankets, and a small stove for heating coal in the colder months. There is a very small window carved into the gray brick wall that lets in a little light and allows me to see into the alley.
“I’ll fetch a broom so we can sweep this out,” Ah Lam says as she dusts her hands off. “And I’ll bring you the clothes in a trunk so you can keep them clean. Once you are dressed, try not to sit on anything in here.”
I give a small smile and nod, but I’m holding back tears. No one has been unkind to me—quite the opposite in fact—but everything is so different. I have nothing, not even my own clothes, and I know no one. I’m sure Mingxia will never allow me to contact my family while I am living here. The best I can hope for is that I will be sent away on the first day of the selection and be allowed to return home—to my real home, not this strange place.
Ah Lam starts to pass by me to leave the room, but she stops and looks at me, gently chuffing me under the chin.
“It will be all right,” she says. “The mistress might seem tough, but whatever she promised you, she will stand by her word.”
I give a small smile and nod, but a lump in my throat keeps me from speaking. Ah Lam then leaves me alone to find me some clothes to wear. I hold the sheet tightly, feeling oddly chilled despite the summer heat.
Even though I know the house is filled with people, and that there are other houses all along the alley, it seems so very quiet here to me. Nothing like the loud, busy street where I spent my whole life.
I have to stand on my tiptoes to see out the small window. It is carved from the bricks that make up the wall, but slats were left in place so that no one could crawl in or out of the house.
I feel like I’m in a cage.
6
When Ah Lam drapes the long Manchu robe—qipao—around my shoulders, I nearly collapse from the weight of it. From my neck to the floor, the gown is dark blue and heavily embroidered with light blue clouds and white birds. The neck and hems are embroidered in a simple repeating pattern. As I run my fingers over the embroidery, I marvel that the gown is a “cast-off” from Lihua. It’s finer than anything I’ve ever seen, much less worn. Even the opera performers I saw from time to time did not have gowns this lovely.
“Sit,” Ah Lam instructs, pointing to the crate she’d had brought in by one of the male servants. It was full of not only gowns, but pot-bottom shoes and liangbatou headdresses as well. Using a comb, Ah Lam brushes and parts my hair. She wraps each section around a piece of wood called a bian fang, twisting and plaiting the excess tightly in the back. It’s painful, but I say nothing. I can’t help but wince occasionally, though.
“There, let me have a look at you,” Ah Lam says. When I stand up and turn to face her, she gasps.
I touch my face and then the dress. “Is something wrong?”
“I…I did not notice it before, but you look just like Miss Lihua,” she says, and my cheeks go hot. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
I shake my head. “I can’t tell you.”
Ah Lam tisks and chews her thumb. “This is because of the selection for consorts, isn’t it?” she says. I say nothing. “I knew the mistress was upset when she heard that Lihua had to attend, but I never thought she’d do something so drastic.”
What can I say? If Ah Lam was able to figure out what Mingxia and I had agreed to, other people are sure to follow.
“You…you won’t tell anyone, will you?” I ask quietly. She looks at me for a long minute before shaking her head.
“Of course not,” she says. “Though I will talk to the mistress about it. Perhaps she can be persuaded to drop the deception. You realize that if you are caught, we could all be put to death?”
“I know.”
“You know? And you still agreed? What does the mistress have hanging over you?”
I shrug. “Nothing. I agreed willingly to save my family.”
Ah Lam sighs. “They must be very poor indeed. This drought… It has been a difficult time for everyone.”
I scoff. “Not everyone. I saw your stores of food in the kitchen. That food could feed my family for months.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but then seems to think better of it.
“And not for the emperor,” I go on. “We are starving and what does he do? Hold a selection to take a hundred wives. Any man who can feed a hundr
ed wives has far too much money.”
“The emperor is no mere man,” Ah Lam says. “He is the Son of Heaven. The father of his people.”
“He is not my father,” I say. “My father would die for us.”
“You don’t understand because you are not Manchu,” Ah Lam says. “But you better learn—and fast. If you go into the Forbidden City and even think a bad thought about the emperor, you’ll find yourself a head shorter.”
My hand goes to my neck and I shudder. I’ve never seen a person executed, but I have heard about it. Every few months it seems, a scaffold is built outside the walls of the Forbidden City and a spectacle is made of the deaths. People travel miles to watch. There are vendors, acrobats, singers. It’s like a temple fair, except someone—usually several someones—dies at the end.
“You have a lot to learn, girl, whoever you are.”
“My name is Daiyu,” I say. “I didn’t lie about that.”
Ah Lam chuckles as she nudges me to sit on the trunk again. “Well, your name will be Lihua soon enough, so you better get used to that as well.”
She picks up one of my feet and helps me roll up a silk stocking, securing it at my thigh with a ribbon. She then places a shoe on my foot with a pot-bottom platform. She then does the same for the other foot. She takes my hands and pulls me to standing.
I wobble and would fall down if not for Ah Lam holding onto me. The shoes are heavy, which keep me firmly planted to the ground.
“Okay, walk,” she says when I find my balance. I think she must be crazy, but then I realize that if I am to appear as a Manchu lady, I am going to have to walk like one. I pick up one foot and drag the platform across the ground as I try to step forward.
“Ai-yo!” Ah Lam says, wincing. “Not like that! Pick your foot up when you walk.”
“I’m trying,” I say, bending my knee as I lift my foot into the air.
“Not like a horse!” she says. “Stop! Here.” She helps me sit again and takes the shoes off of me before stepping into them herself. She pulls her robe up so I can clearly see her feet.
“Like this.” She walks so that she lifts the right shoe in front of her, takes a small step, and then puts the foot down slightly crossed to the left. She then lifts her right shoe, swings it forward, and then places it down slightly crossed to the right. In this way, she walks around the room in small, flowing steps.
“I’ll trip over myself if I put one foot in front of the other like that,” I say.
“Well, you better learn how to do it,” Ah Lam says as she removes the shoes and puts them back on me. She once again pulls me to standing and holds both of my hands as she leads me around the room. My gown that once dragged the floor is now elevated just enough that it no longer touches the ground, but it still prevents me from seeing my feet. I look down anyway, trying to make sure I am doing the steps right.
“Lift your chin,” Ah Lam says. “You are a lady, not a peasant.”
I raise my head and look at Ah Lam’s face.
“Higher,” she says. “Don’t look at me. I’m only a servant.”
I raise my head and look up to the ceiling as I concentrate on my steps. I see a few spiders I didn’t notice before and tremble. I’ll have to thoroughly sweep the room before sleeping tonight.
When I enter the dining room that evening, I’m shaking. I’ve spent the whole afternoon walking around my room, trying to find a balance between elegance and not falling on my face. My legs are quite tired from the weight of the shoes. Thankfully the qipao was a dark color because I ended up on my knees more often than not.
I don’t raise my chin as I enter the room. Mingxia and Lihua are not my equals, so I keep my neck bent and my eyes downcast as I approach. When I can see them from the edges of my sight, I pull my hands together and hold them out, forming a circle with my arms. Then, I bend my knees, lowering myself as much as I can without toppling over. Ah Lam told me that this was the proper way for a lady to greet a superior. I hope she was right because I can’t see the expression on Mingxia’s face. Is she pleased? Disappointed? I hope she replies soon because I am not sure I can hold this position much longer, my legs quivering beneath me.
I hear the rustle of silk and realize that Mingxia has approached me.
“Stand up,” she says. “Let me have a look at you.”
I do as she says, returning to my upright position, but still I keep my chin and eyes down. She seems a bit annoyed by this and grips my chin, lifting it so that I must look at her.
There are tears in her eyes. “You look perfect.” She then turns to her daughter, who looks far less pleased. “See, Lihua, I told you. It is sure to work.”
Lihua presses her lips and crosses her arms. “She doesn’t look like me at all! She still looks like the dirty girl we found in that dreadful hovel.”
I look down at the gown, afraid that Ah Lam and I did not get all the dust off of it from my many tumbles today, but I don’t see anything.
“Nonsense,” Mingxia says. “She is certainly not a beautiful as you. She lacks the…natural refinement of a true Manchu bannerwoman, perhaps. But she certainly has the potential to pass as you, don’t you think?”
Lihua sighs. “Fine. I suppose.”
“Of course, you do,” Mingxia says to me as she holds my hands tightly and smiles. “This will work. I promise.”
I nod. I hope she’s right. I have to believe she is. If she’s wrong, I will lose my life.
Mingxia then leads me over to the round table and helps me take a seat on one of the lacquered stools. In my silk robe, the seat is slippery and I have to keep my back rigid to keep from sliding off.
Ah Lam then enters the room carrying a bowl of steaming rice, followed by a maid carrying two dishes of food. It already looks like so much food to me, but another maid brings still more food. My stomach growls loudly since I haven’t eaten since the steamed buns that morning, but I try to restrain myself so I can follow Mingxia’s lead. But she does nothing, and she and her daughter look at me expectantly.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “What should I do?”
“Serve the rice, stupid,” Lihua snaps. I look to Mingxia, who nods. I grab one of the bowls and scoop rice into it with a wooden ladle, then I offer it to Mingxia. She doesn’t take it, so I place it on the table in front of her. She gives an approving nod. I then prepare a bowl for Lihua and place it in front of her. I sit back down with my hands in my lap.
“And yourself,” Mingxia says. My hands are shaking as I try to prepare a bowl for myself, but I drop the ladle on the ground. I hear Lihua tisk and sigh in annoyance.
“We are never going to eat,” she mumbles. I reach for the ladle, but forget my shoes and start to slip off the seat.
Ah Lam grabs my arm. “I got it.” She reaches down and picks up the ladle for me, but she doesn’t hand it to me. Instead, she disappears for a moment before returning with a clean one. She then serves the rice to me.
“Well, we got there in the end, didn’t we?” Mingxia says. She picks up her chopsticks and chooses a piece of pork from a bowl of simmering spices. “Go on,” she tells me.
I hesitate as I watch Lihua pick up her own chopsticks and begin to eat, afraid I’m going to do something else wrong. Once they are no longer looking at me, I begin to eat, picking at my food carefully so I don’t drop any on my qipao.
“We have very little time to prepare you,” Mingxia says. “The emperor has not set a date for the selection yet, but we should receive the details soon. In the meantime, you must learn as much as possible about being a Manchu woman.”
I nod. “Yes, my lady.”
Mingxia sighs. “There is a difference between a servant and a lady,” she says. “Raise your head. Look at me.” I lift my eyes. “Sit up straight.” I hadn’t noticed that I had started to slump. “Put your bowl down and bring the food to your mouth with the chopsticks. Don’t shovel the food into your mouth like a horse at a trough.”
I feel my stomach clench and my appetite f
lees. I had done well when I first entered the room, but when I am not focused, I fall back into my old habits. I don’t know how I can do this. One mistake and the emperor is sure to see right through me. “She’s going to get us all killed,” Lihua hisses.
“Lihua!” Mingxia scolds. “Don’t say such a thing.”
“It’s true!” she says. “She can’t even eat properly. How is she going to learn anything? She’ll have to recite the lineage, learn to play an instrument, quote poetry.”
“What?” I ask. “What is she talking about? I thought I only needed to look the part.”
Mingxia seems flustered for the first time. “Well, looking like a Manchu lady is the most important aspect. But…yes, there is much you need to learn if you are to truly present yourself as a lady to the emperor. As Lihua.”
“But, why?” I ask. “I’m supposed to fail, right? If I can’t do all those things, I will be sent home.”
“If you don’t do them as well as the other girls you may be sent home,” Mingxia says. “But if you can’t do them at all they will know something is wrong. All refined young ladies can play music, paint lovely pictures, or recite poems. Lihua can do all those things. She’s quite accomplished.”
“But she’s been learning her whole life,” I say. “I have only weeks.”
“Which is why you must work very hard,” Mingxia says. “Every moment must be used in training.”
I’m beginning to seriously doubt my decision. I look at Lihua and see her sitting tall, looking down her nose at me without an ounce of effort while my back is aching terribly and my shoulders are still slightly hunched over.
“We will begin in earnest tomorrow,” Mingxia says as she stands. “It has been an exhausting day for all of us. Sleep well and I will see you before breakfast for morning greetings.” Lihua stands and follows her mother. I nod even though I have no idea what she is talking about. Morning greetings?
“Manchu children greet their parents every morning,” Ah Lam says as she and the other maids start to clear away the nearly full bowls of food. I hope the food doesn’t go to waste. Perhaps the servants eat it. “I’ll tell you what to say in the morning.”