“The empress wants to make changes,” the prince went on. “She wants to modernize the country, but she has to be careful. Move slowly. Too many changes too quickly will spook the ministers and the people. Allowing women to perform in the opera is her small way of embarking on social change. She wants this first tiny change to be a success.”
“Sounds like more trouble than it’s worth,” the inspector said, handing the pamphlet back. “I think I’ll stay home for once.”
“I’d rather you went,” the prince said. “I’m going to support Wangshu and the empress, and to set an example for the other nobles. But Wangshu has been receiving threatening letters. People have been harassing her on the street. She’s worried about her safety. I told her she didn’t need to worry, but I’d feel more confident if you were there tonight.”
“So now I’m to play bodyguard for an actress?” Inspector Gong asked, wrinkling his nose. “Sounds like a dreadful way to spend an evening.”
The prince sighed. “It would certainly be a shame if something were to happen to her and I ended up too busy to get that marriage dispensation for you.”
“Where’s my ticket?” Inspector Gong asked.
3
First Daughter and Second Daughter were nearly bouncing with excitement in the sedan chair as the chair-bearers carried the girls and Lady Li to the theater.
“I can’t wait to see the costumes!” First Daughter said as she tried to peek through the tied curtains of the sedan chair.
“The singing! The dancing!” Second Daughter exclaimed as she tried to move her sister out of the way so she could see out.
“Calm down, girls,” Lady Li chided. “You make it harder for the boys to carry us with you moving back and forth.”
“The sword fighting!” First Daughter said, not hearing her mother. “Just like Mongeyisu!” They both then devolved into a fit of laughter. They loved pretending they were Mongeyisu, the Manchu heroine of myth and legend.
“Girls, please!” Lady Li tried again, physically forcing them to their seats. “You must sit down! I can have the boys take you right back home where you can sit in your rooms like Swan!”
That got the girls’ attention, and they quickly sat, with their hands folded in their laps, but their feet continued to wiggle.
“Why couldn’t Swan come, mama?” First Daughter asked.
“It wouldn’t be proper for a betrothed woman to be seen in public,” Lady Li said, which both was and was not true. Had Swan been never married, it would be inappropriate for her to be out in public where other men can see her. As a widow, however, there were no rules about her being seen in public as long as she was properly supervised. She had left strict instructions with the staff to make sure that Swan didn’t leave her room and that no one was to deliver her anything other than food from the kitchen. Everyone knew that Swan’s marriage depended on breaking her opium addiction. And while Swan herself wanted to come out of the cloud and marry Inspector Gong, Lady Li knew that the mere thought of having a bit of opium could break the resolve of the strongest person.
She wished she could have left Eunuch Bai behind. He was the only person she really trusted with her household in her absence. But as a woman herself, she shouldn’t be seen at a public event without a male escort, so he was with her, trotting along outside the sedan chair with the chair-bearers.
Lady Li rubbed her forehead and tried to forget all her troubles, just for one night. She needed the break, the escape from the world. She was looking forward to the opera and hoped it would provide her with a well-deserved distraction.
The White Lotus Theater was a bustle of activity. Men and women of every social standing were in attendance. Some people were trying to get into the theater while others were just milling about outside. Some people were hawking their wares, including some women who were offering their services.
“How can you support this abomination!” one man screamed at Lady Li as she exited the sedan chair. “You should be contained to your own house! Women should be kept behind silk screens!”
Lady Li looked around and saw several angry faces chiding the people who were trying to enter. She hadn’t expected to see protesters here. She nearly climbed back into her chair, afraid for her children’s safety, when she felt Eunuch Bai’s hand on her arm.
“This way, my lady,” he said. Of course, he would know a quick and safe way inside. Lady Li carried Second Daughter and held First Daughter’s hand tightly as they worked their way through the crowd and into the building.
The crowd inside was not much thinner. The show was oversold. She could see the elevated stage at the back of the large open-air courtyard, but there were far more people than benches. Not that it mattered since most people who had bench seats would stand anyway to get a better view.
Eunuch Bai led Lady Li to a stairwell that would lead to boxed seats on the second level.
“Inspector Gong!” Lady Li exclaimed in surprise when Eunuch Bai opened the sliding door to the room and she saw him standing there. “What are you doing here?”
“Not happy to see me?” he asked as he gave a small bow and smile.
Lady Li felt a tightness and a fluttering in her chest at the same time. She was more than happy to see him, but disappointed that they could never be more than mere acquaintances. And here, in front of so many people, they would have to be on the most formal of terms.
“I did not expect to see you here,” she finally managed to say.
Second Daughter squirmed out of her arms and ran to hug him. “Gong Shushu!” she cried out, jumping up to give him a hug. Even since the girls learned that he would be marrying Swan, they had taken to calling him uncle.
He hugged her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I can’t believe your mama let you out of the house so late at night.”
“Children need fresh air sometimes,” Lady Li said.
He looked around Lady Li as if checking to see if anyone else was with her. “Is Swan with you?” he asked, and Lady Li hoped that her heart sinking like a rock did not show on her face.
“It is a good thing I didn’t,” she said, pushing past him further into the room. “You know you aren’t supposed to speak with her before the wedding.” She then realized that Inspector Gong must have come as a guest of Prince Kung, who was standing near the edge of the balcony with his wife. Lady Li approached them and bowed.
“My prince,” she said. “My lady.”
Lady Guwalgiya gave Lady Li a polite nod, but then turned away to speak to her own friends. Lady Li and Lady Guwalgiya had never gotten along. The prince had been married to Lady Guwalgiya when he was very young, only fifteen years old, as was common for imperial children. So the prince had already been married for nearly a decade by the time he and Lady Li met and fallen in love, carrying on an affair within the walls of the Forbidden City. Lady Li had no idea how much Lady Guwalgiya knew about the affair, but she clearly knew enough to treat Lady Li cordially—as was appropriate for their stations—but kept her at a cool distance.
The prince took Lady Li’s hand in his and held it warmly. “It is a pleasure to see you.”
“And you, dear friend,” Lady Li said, and she meant it. Even though she had at one time loved him and would have settled for being a concubine herself to be with him, it meant a lot to her to still be able to count him among her friends. He was one of the few people she knew she could still count on in a crisis.
“Our mutual friend came to my home and made a rather unusual request today,” the prince said, eyeing Inspector Gong.
“Oh?” she asked.
“I have no reason to deny him other than I think it is a stupid idea,” he said. “But he said you had given him and Swan your full approval. Is this true? I would never do anything to make you unhappy.”
“Is it possible I both approve this thing and it makes me unhappy?” she asked as she stepped over to the railing and looked down at the crowd below. She and the prince had a shared history so deep, there was no nee
d to be coy.
“Then why are you doing it?” the prince asked. “Just carry on as you have. Take him to your bed if you must, but don’t yolk Swan’s misfortunes to him. To his family.”
“But I can’t,” Lady Li said. “It…it’s not so simple. I have to let him go.”
“By the gods,” the prince said, somewhere between shock and amusement. “You love the bastard, don’t you? That’s why you can’t just sleep with him and go about your life.”
Lady Li didn’t respond, but she gripped the railing so hard she thought it would shatter.
“Well, I am sorry for it,” the prince said. “I have loved many women, but only been in love once. I know how hard it is to have to let that person go.”
She looked up into his eyes and saw all of their stolen kisses and hidden trysts in the Forbidden City pass by.
“But we became better people for it,” Lady Li said. “We both lived full lives, have beautiful families. We have been better friends than lovers.”
“But it’s different with him, is it?” the prince asked. “With me, we were young and there were no consequences if we’d been caught. But with him, there’s a lot at stake. You’ve been willing to risk everything to be with him.”
“And that’s why he has to go,” she said. “I can’t have him around. I need him safely married and out of my life.”
“If you wanted him well and truly out of your life you’d have him marry anyone else but Swan,” he said.
The orchestra started banging the drums and clashing the cymbals, starting the show.
“Just sign the damn paper,” Lady Li snapped as she took a seat and pulled her daughters close to her.
The prince sighed and went to the end of the row to sit with his wife.
“Mama, what’s happening?” First Daughter asked as the opera performers appeared on stage, one wearing the head of a horse, and one wearing the head of a bull. They were both twirling long spears.
“Horse Head and Ox Head are guardians of the gates of hell,” Lady Li said.
Inspector Gong sat next to Lady Li and took Second Daughter into his lap. “As long as you are explaining what is going on,” he said, “I might as well sit here and listen as well or else I’ll be completely lost.”
Lady Li frowned at him, but then felt the anger and annoyance melt away and she gave him a small smile. He slid closer to her, so close their arms were touching, and she did not move away.
Several more actors came out and performed an acrobatic routine.
“Those are demons,” Lady Li explained.
The demons were supposed to be frightening, but First Daughter and Second Daughter found the flips and tricks hilarious.
Then a man dressed all in red with a long beard came out. His face was painted in gold and white.
“That’s the Laosheng,” Lady Li said. “The man of reason and decency. He is also the King of Hell.”
The King of Hell sang a long solo and marched around the stage.
“He is explaining that war has been raging for many years,” Lady Li said. “Sending many good men to hell.”
The King of Hell and the demons then performed several songs and had many discussions about what to do about the never-ending war in the mortal realm. The songs were long, as it was common for opera performances to take a whole day, but this one had been cut down to last only a few hours.
Finally, the King of Hell called his daughter forth, and everyone in the audience held their breath.
In a long blue gown embroidered with silver thread and sparkling silver jewels and long white sleeves, Wangshu walked on stage with such small steps she seemed to float across the stage.
The cymbals crashed and the audience broke out in cheers and jeers. Wangshu moved to the middle of the stage with practiced precision. Every movement of her head, every flick of her wrist was deliberate and held meaning. After a moment, it was clear the crowd was not going to quiet, so Wangshu opened her mouth and went on with the show.
In a clear and high-pitched voice, Wangshu, playing the role of Xueyan, the immortal daughter of the King of Hell who would give up her eternal life to stop a great war by becoming the Red Concubine to one of the generals fighting the war, silenced the audience.
Even Lady Li stopped narrating the show because she was so entranced by the performance and didn’t want to miss a beat.
At the end of the play, everyone was on the edge of their seat as Xueyan realized that the only way to end the war is to kill the human general she had fallen in love with.
Xueyan, now dressed in red as befitting the act she was about to perform, sang a song lamenting her tragic fate. She knew that by killing her lover, she would complete the task her father assigned to her, but she hopes that when she returns to hell, he tortures her forever instead of celebrating her victory because she knows she will not be able to live with herself after she completes the task.
Lady Li was not the only person in the audience trying to discreetly wipe away tears. First Daughter had long fallen asleep despite the loudness of the show. But Second Daughter was riveted, watching every moment with rapt attention.
The audience went completely silent as Xueyan hid a sword under her gown and the general entered the stage. Lady Li was surprised by the casting of the general. He was good-looking, even under layers of makeup, but he had a slight build, not the muscular body of someone who usually took on such a role. But he still played the role perfectly, convincingly playing both Xueyan’s tender lover and a merciless warmonger.
Together, the general and Xueyan sang a song about how much they loved each other and would run away and live in peace if only the war would ever end. But then the general broke away from her and sang about how the war could never end, not until he wiped the barbarians off the face of the earth.
Xueyan wept bitterly at the general’s words because she knew she had no choice but to kill him. She stepped behind the general and drew her sword. But she wouldn’t stab him in the back. He turned to her and embraced her, kissing her passionately.
Then the general gasped. He stumbled back, looking down at the sword in his stomach in shock. He grabbed Xueyan’s shoulder, and she looked just as terrified as he did.
“What…what have you done?” the general asked as he fell backward off the sword, which was still tightly gripped in Xueyan’s hand.
Lady Li was surprised that the general did not sing his final words, but the power of the scene could not be denied. Xueyan’s sword and sleeves were drenched in blood, an effect Lady Li had not seen at an opera before.
Everyone in the audience held their breath as they waited for Xueyan’s response to the act she just committed, but the song never came.
Wangshu simply stared out at the crowd, her hand holding the bloody sword shaking. Then she ran off stage. The crowd started murmuring.
Lady Li felt Inspector Gong grip her hand.
“What…what is happening?” she asked.
“I’m no expert on opera,” he said. “But I think Wangshu just killed her co-star.”
4
Like most people, Inspector Gong had seen operas before, but he was hardly a connoisseur. In fact, before the dramatic murder of the general, he had hardly been paying attention at all. All of his thoughts had been on Lady Li, who was sitting closely beside him.
He was always pleasantly surprised by how naturally they seemed to fit together. As they watched the show, side by side, and the evening grew progressively darker, he slipped his hand into hers, and she did not pull away. In fact, she held his hand tightly and even moved closer to him until they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. Enjoying an opera under the stars, hand in hand, with her children and their friends, Inspector Gong couldn’t imagine a more perfect night out. Any thoughts of Swan had completely vanished as he once again dreamed of a life with Lady Li. A life they both knew could never happen, yet they couldn’t seem to completely let go of.
Eventually, though, he found his attention drawn to the opera perform
ance. Wangshu had a beautiful voice and was a gifted actress. The character of Xueyan was supposed to stop the war by any means necessary. Her original plan had been to merely seduce and distract the general and convince him to return home and stop the fighting. But she found herself falling in love with him instead. She also understood his reasons for the rebellion. The emperor had been dealing cruelly with his people. Xueyan was conflicted, caught between her heart and her honor.
Inspector Gong knew all too well the emotions coursing through Xueyan as the opera progressed. He wondered if Lady Li saw the similarities between the play and their real life. Who was he kidding? Of course, she did. Lady Li was one of the most well-educated and clever women he knew. He looked forward to discussing the opera with her after it ended, if she would speak to him. But that was what he wanted from a wife. Not merely a bedmate, but a friend, a partner. Someone he could talk to at the end of a long day.
He supposed Swan could provide that as well. Lord Yun would have only chosen the best quality woman to be his concubine. But it didn’t matter if Swan was Lady Li’s equal in every way. She still wasn’t Lady Li, the woman he was in love with and truly wanted.
He was a fool for agreeing to marry Swan. He was only going to break her heart and be a disappointment to her. He knew it. But what could he do about it? He had already agreed and asked the prince for the dispensation. There was no going back.
He was starting to panic, feeling trapped, when the opera came to its dramatic climax.
Xueyan had come to the realization that she had to kill the general. There was no other way to stop the war. As the general kissed her one last time, Xueyan drew her sword and plunged it into his stomach. Everyone in the audience gasped at the scene, some people even crying.
But as Inspector Gong saw the blood pooling under the dead general, he knew the man’s death had not been an act.
Murder at the Peking Opera Page 3