by Zoey Gong
“I will see it done,” he says, then he turns to me. He lowers his face to mine and kisses me tenderly on the lips. “I will send for you tonight.”
I nod sheepishly and I feel a blush on my cheeks. For the first time, I feel a real tenderness toward him. I realize that he sees me as more than a bedmate, more than a woman he is trying to impregnate. He asked my opinion. Asked for my assistance. And he doesn’t know it, but he took my suggestion and acted upon it. For the first time, I feel like a real wife.
The emperor chucks me under the chin and then walks away, back toward the audience hall. I am sure his duties have no end during the day. I watch him go and see him pass his brother. He waves for Honghui to follow him, but instead, the prince looks back at me, giving me a knowing smile.
I feel terrible guilt wash over me. The emperor has been so good to me, shown me nothing but kindness. He provides for me and has now given me a task to fill my empty days. He is a good man—a good husband.
And I have already betrayed him.
I have kissed another man. His own brother. I have felt lust and desire for Honghui. Let him touch me in intimate ways.
I turn away from the prince, disgusted with myself, and rush back toward my own palace. I cannot deny my attraction to the prince. I am eternally grateful that he saved my life. But I cannot let those feelings overwhelm my common sense. I must stay away from the prince as much as possible lest I betray the emperor further and risk deadly consequences.
22
“Massage my feet,” Empress Caihong says to me, and I do my best not to wrinkle my nose at the idea of the task.
Though, to be fair, massaging the empress’s feet is a far less gross task than unbinding, washing, and rebinding my mother’s feet every night back home. Mama had the tiniest, most lovely feet. Perfect little lotus flowers. Honestly, with feet like that, I’m surprised she married so low. But in order to maintain the shape that had been created when she was a child, the feet had to remain bound with strips of silk for the rest of her life. The wrappings would make the feet sweaty and sometimes break out in pus or blood if she tried walking too much. We could not afford to buy her new silk wrappings very often, so we had to wash and reuse the same bindings every night for as long as possible. I used a tiny pair of sewing scissors to keep her toenails short so they would not grow into the ball of her foot, which could cause more pain and leave the foot open to infection.
Still, as arduous as the task was, it was one of my favorite parts of the day. The repetition of it was soothing, and it was the time of day when I had Mama all to myself. With four sisters, time alone with my mother was rare indeed.
It is this memory that I hold in my mind as I remove the empress’s silk slippers—it is too dangerous for her to walk on pot-bottom shoes while pregnant—and press my thumbs into her soles and squeeze her ankles, which seem to be a bit swollen.
“Refresh my tea,” she tells a maid.
“Can you adjust my pillows,” she says to another consort she has tasked with attending her.
The empress is not unkind in her demands, there are simply a lot of them. Her every whim must be seen to, no matter how small. She cannot do anything for herself lest she tax her body too much and lose the baby. I know how important the baby is—especially if it is a boy—but I am not sure complete bed rest is healthy. My mother carried five successful pregnancies while working as much as possible. In fact, where I grew up, no woman was privileged enough to lie in bed for months on end to grow a baby. They had to work, doing embroidery if nothing else, and still care for their husbands and other children. As I look at the empress’s fat ankles and cheeks that are a bit more round than before, I worry about the weight she might be gaining. Though, I am sure the royal physician knows best, and he pampers her as much as anyone.
We all get to our feet and then kneel as Lady An, the third-rank consort, arrives with her and the empress’s daughters in tow. The little princesses are so darling with wide eyes and their long black hair allowed to hang down around their shoulders. They are each dressed in the finest silk outfits and wear silver bracelets. Lady An’s daughter seems to be around six years old, while Caihong’s daughter is around four. They kneel before the empress.
“Good morning, Mother. We wish you and our little brother good health.”
“My darlings!” Caihong says, holding her hand out to them. “Come, sit with me. Maybe you will feel your brother move.”
The girls both climb up onto the bed and put their hands on the empress’s stomach. It reminds me of how I would touch my mother’s stomach and feel each of my sisters moving around inside.
“Such strength this one has,” Baba would say when he felt the kicks. “It is surely the son we have been praying for.” Of course, it never was a son. Still, my eyes mist a bit at the memories as I watch the empress with her daughters. The scene seems to affect everyone, as we look at each other with smiles and tears.
But Lady An seems to be the most affected. The woman has always been thin, her cheeks sunken. But now, she looks to be little more than a skeleton. She clenches her teeth, setting her jaw tight, as she watches. She turns away and walks toward one of the latticed windows and looks out. She takes a few deep, shuddering breaths before turning back to the empress.
I am never sure what to make of Lady An. I know she would be a beauty if she took better care of her health. She is the third-highest-ranking woman in the harem after the empress and the dowager. She has a huge palace with lots of servants and a large allowance. She has a child of her own. Yet, she seems to be the most miserable among women.
I follow Lady An’s gaze toward the empress and wonder if the fact that Empress Caihong is considered Lady An’s daughter’s mother has something to do with it. There is nothing unique in this, and Chinese families follow the same custom. A man can only ever have one wife while the other women he takes into his home are concubines, the sole purpose of which is to help the family have as many children as possible. The concubines are little more than property, so the children belong to the husband and wife. Usually, the concubine and wife raise the children together. After all, in a large family with many children, the wife needs as much help as possible. And, of course, the concubine will nurse her child for several years. The wife has the final say in how the children should be educated and in arranging their marriages, however, as is her right as mother. As a concubine myself, if I were to fall pregnant, I know I would have to submit to the empress when it came to how the child would be raised. That is the way of things.
I have, of course, heard of cruel wives who take the children from the concubine and forbid her from even seeing her child. But I think this is quite rare.
The empress has not done this to Lady An. In fact, from my observations, it is Lady An who takes charge of the children more than the empress since she is so busy with managing the harem. So why does she now look at the empress with such…anger? Malice? Hurt? I can’t quite make out her expression other than know it is not love or adoration the way the other women look at her.
But perhaps she is not looking at the children at all, but the empress’s pregnant belly. Is she jealous that the empress is pregnant again? I can understand that. I personally am not jealous since I don’t want even more attention on me. But for most other women here, their only dream in life is to have a son. To see the empress, the woman with the most honors, who spends the most nights with the emperor already, blessed with a second child when all the others except Lady An have none, it must cut them to the core. It is quite strange that the emperor should have more wives than any other man in the country but so few children. I can’t understand it. But Caihong is the empress. I think that if any woman was able to give the emperor a son it should be her by right. She is the Daughter of Heaven, after all.
I am about to go to Lady An to… I don’t know. Pat her on the shoulder? Offer her some cold comfort? I have no idea, only that she seems too distressed to ignore. But I stop when I hear a eunuch announce that th
e dowager has arrived. We all fall to our knees again, even the little princesses, except for the empress, who sits up proudly in her bed.
“Good day, Mother,” Caihong says. “What brings you here today?”
The dowager wears a thunderous expression on her face, as if the empress has greatly offended her. “What are you doing?” she demands.
The empress looks confused. “What is wrong?”
“Why haven’t you cut your hair?” the dowager asks. “You are selfish to steal vitality from the emperor’s baby.”
I have no idea what the dowager is talking about and wonder if it is a Manchu custom. But the empress—and the other ladies—seem just as bewildered as I am.
“That is…such an outdated belief,” Caihong says. “If the physician thought it necessary, he would have told me so.”
“The doctor is a man,” the dowager spits. “What does he know of childbirth? Are you stupid?”
The empress gapes like a fish, opening and closing her mouth as she grasps for a response. I have seen the way the dowager looks down her nose at the empress at almost all times, but this is the first time I have heard her use such cutting language. I thought the dowager would be happy that the empress is pregnant again and coddle her the way the rest of us do. But that seems not to be the case.
“I…I will cut it at once, Mother,” the empress finally says, and I hear some of the other ladies gasp. I don’t know any woman who has ever cut her hair other than as an absolute necessity…and I can’t remember any specific instances of that ever being the case. Nuns shave their heads, but that is a completely different situation as only widows are allowed to be nuns.
“See that you do,” the dowager says, then she turns to Lady An. “Bring the girls. It is time for their lessons.”
“Yes, your highness,” Lady An says with a bow. “Come along, girls.” The princesses sulk away, looking back at the empress longingly, who I can see is doing her best not to cry. As soon as they are gone, we all rise to our feet and silently wait for orders from the empress. It takes the empress a long moment to collect herself enough to speak.
“Lihua,” she finally says, her voice quiet. “There are scissors in my embroidery basket. Get them and take them to the kitchen to be sharpened.”
I hesitate. I can’t believe she is actually going to do it. All of us, maids and ladies, exchange glances, unsure of what to do.
“Was I unclear?” the empress snaps, and I go to the basket to look for the scissors.
“My lady,” I hear her closest maid say in a low voice, “you cannot go through this with this. The dowager is being unreasonable. If you send for the emperor—”
“Ask the emperor to intercede in a harem issue?” the empress asks, aghast. “Are you insane?”
“But…my lady—” the maid tries again, but the empress refuses to listen.
“Do as I say!” she yells. I find the scissors, which already seem exceptionally sharp to me. But, not wanting to upset her further, which seems more of a danger to the child than long hair to me, I bow my way out of the room and outside. Suyin follows after me, since I cannot go anywhere alone.
“Where…where is the kitchen?” I ask, realizing I have no idea where it is. Why would I?
“This way,” Suyin says, taking a narrow path in the opposite direction I was heading.
“But why hasn’t the emperor sent for me?” I hear a voice say. I stop and peek around a bush and see Lady An and the dowager conversing while the princesses feed fish in a pond. I know I shouldn’t be listening, but I can’t help myself when I hear my own name mentioned.
“I am doing my best,” the dowager says. “But he is obsessed with that Lihua girl.”
I look to Suyin, who I think will tell me that we need to walk away, but instead, she holds a finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet.
“So is the empress,” Lady An says. “Why? What am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing, my dear,” the dowager replies using a voice kinder than I’ve heard her use before. “Caihong is simply jealous of you. She always has been. Ever since you fell pregnant first and were elevated.”
“She’s ruined my life,” Lady An says through sniffles. “The emperor has never called me back to his bed since my daughter’s birth. It must be her fault.”
“Of course it is,” the dowager says. “She has much sway over who the emperor favors with his attentions. The fault lies with her, it always has.”
I find this strange since it is not what Jinhai has told me about who is selected as the emperor’s bedmate. I will have to ask him about it.
“What am I to do?” Lady An asks.
“Don’t worry,” the dowager says. “Her days are numbered. If the child is a girl, he will surely put the empress aside in favor of someone else. In favor of you, as the next highest-ranking woman in the harem.”
“But what if the child is a boy?” Lady An asks.
“Then we will be glad of it,” the empress says.
They are both quiet for a moment, and I wish I could see their faces. It sounds as if neither of them wants the baby to be a boy. But why? I can’t understand it.
“Come,” the empress says. “I am going to see my son now. Bring the girls. He will be happy to see you, I’m sure.”
I hear them walk away, but I remain hidden for another few moments to make sure none of their attendants see me.
“How strange!” I say to Suyin as we continue our walk to the kitchen. “Does the dowager favor Lady An over the empress?”
“I am not sure,” Suyin says. “We will have to ask Jinhai about it.”
We continue our walk to the kitchen and back in silence. I am uneasy carrying such sharp blades while wearing pot-bottom shoes. It would be far too easy to trip and impale myself, so Suyin carries them back for me.
Back at the empress’s palace, I hand the scissors to the empress. She holds them in her hands warily, like an animal she is not sure will bite or not.
“Go,” she says after a long moment.
“My lady?” her maid asks.
“All of you, go! Except for Delun.”
Delun is her chief eunuch and hairdresser. The rest of us bow our way out of the palace and then stand around awkwardly, wondering if she is going to call us back or if we should return to our own homes. But no one leaves. So, we will wait here, no matter how long it may be.
23
“It’s beautiful,” I say as I admire a pale-green vase the emperor has given me. “Is it made from jade?”
The emperor laughs. “No, silly girl. If it were carved from jade it would be much heavier than that. It’s ceramic, but it is made with a special glaze called qingci to give it that beautiful green color. A little old-fashioned, I know, but I think jade is one of the most perfect colors in the world. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I nod as I turn the vase in my hands, admiring the tiny cracks in the glaze that give the vase its character. Jade is beautiful, and highly prized. Instead of naming me Biyu, green jade, like many other girls, my father named me Daiyu, black jade. When I asked him why he named me after such an ugly rock, he said it was because black jade was far more rare, and thus more precious. I learned to love my name after that, and I sorely miss it now. Even after all these months, a part of me still twitches whenever someone calls me Lihua.
“It gives me great joy to see you happy,” the emperor says. “Is there anything you need? More money? New jewels for your hair?”
I shake my head, but then something comes to mind. “I…I just have a question, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” he says. “Anything.”
It still takes me a moment to gather my courage. “It’s about Lady An,” I finally say. The emperor frowns and turns away from me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“What about her?” he asks. “Is she bothering you?”
“No,” I say. “Nothing like that. But I see how sad she is, how thin she has gotten. Perhaps it would do her heart good if y
ou were to invite her to your bed.”
The emperor shakes his head. “I never liked that girl. So quiet, so timid. When she is in my bed, I might as well be making love to a pillow for all the response she gives me.”
I’m a bit shocked by the emperor’s words, but then I remember what my maid, Nuwa, told me the first night I was summoned to the emperor’s bed. The emperor preferred girls who were… What was the word she used? Enthusiastic, not a cold fish. I wonder if she was thinking about Lady An when she told me that.
“I will never understand how she came to be with child,” the emperor goes on. “I only slept with her once.”
This takes me back. It can happen after only one time? I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve been in the emperor’s bed. I don’t think I’m pregnant. I don’t feel any different. But I suppose it could happen at any time.
“I’m sure she was just intimidated by your presence,” I say. “Perhaps if you gave her another chance—” He waves me off. “I only mean that, since she fell pregnant once, she could again. And perhaps give you a son.”
“Is that what you are worried about?” he asks. “Are you afraid you aren’t going to give me a son?”
“Not…afraid…” I say, trying to explain myself. “But… Well, I haven’t yet. I’m sorry.” I’m not sorry, I’m just not sure what else to say.
“Do I make you unhappy?” the emperor asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“No!” I say, wondering what gave him that impression.
“Do you not want me to call you to my bed anymore?”
“Of course I want to be here,” I say, growing afraid. I mean, if he did stop summoning me, I wouldn’t mind. But I certainly don’t want him to be angry with me.