about working in the garden with your hands. You embarrass not only yourself but also the Imperial family.”
I kept nodding, pretending to appreciate her advice.
“Avoid tangerine.” She leaned so close that I smelled jasmine on her breath. “Too many hot elements will give you pimples. I’ll have my eunuch send you a bowl of turtle soup to put out the fire inside you. Do honor me by accepting.”
I was sure that she felt she had achieved her goal when the Emperor stopped sharing my bed. She now had an even better reason to feel safe with me: Hsien Feng was never going to get up and walk back into my bedroom.
“I’ll leave you to the headaches, then,” she said, smiling and getting up.
To put her mind more at ease, I told her I had no experience dealing with the court, nor had I any connections.
“That’s something I am sure I can help with,” Nuharoo said. “My birthday is approaching, and I have ordered a banquet to celebrate. I want you to invite anyone you think will be useful to you. Don’t worry. People are dying to make connections with us.”
“Who is there besides Prince Kung that we can trust?”
She thought for a moment and then replied, “How about Yung Lu?”
“Yung Lu?”
“The commander in chief of the Imperial Guards. He works under Su Shun. He is a very capable man. I went to my family reunion for the rice cake festival and his name was on everyone’s lips.”
“Have you met him?”
“No.”
“Will you send him an invitation?”
“I would if I could. The problem is that Yung Lu’s rank is not high enough to entitle him to a place at an Imperial banquet.”
Fragrance of laurel filled the courtyard and the reception hall. Dressed like a blossoming tree, Nuharoo was surprised to learn that Su Shun had sent word at the last minute that he would not be attending. His excuse was that “His Majesty’s ladies are for His Majesty’s eyes only.” Nuharoo was beside herself.
Wearing so many necklaces of hammered gold, precious stones and brocade caused Nuharoo’s neck to lean forward. She was sitting on the throne in the east hall of the Palace of Gathering Essence. She had just completed her second change of dress for the day and now wore a bright yellow gauzy silk robe embroidered with an array of Imperial symbols.
All eyes were locked on Nuharoo except those of Emperor Hsien Feng, who, although sick to the bone, had made an effort to come. He was dressed in a matching robe to complement Nuharoo. But the symbols on his robe were slightly different. Dragons replaced phoenixes, mountains replaced rivers.
“Happy twenty-second birthday, Your Majesty Empress Nuharoo!” Chief Eunuch Shim sang.
The crowd followed, and toasted Nuharoo’s longevity.
I sipped rice wine and thought about what Nuharoo had said to me about her method of achieving internal harmony: “Lie in the bed others have made, and walk in the shoes others have cobbled.” The sentiment made little sense to me. My life so far was a piece of embroidery with every stitch sewn by my own hands.
The banquet’s courses were endless. As people tired of eating, they moved to the west wing, where Nuharoo was presented with her gifts. She sat like a Buddha receiving worshipers.
Emperor Hsien Feng’s gift was the first presented. It was a giant box wrapped with red silk and tied with yellow ribbons. It was brought into the hall on an ivory table carried by six eunuchs.
Nuharoo’s eyes glowed like those of a curious child.
Beneath six layers of wrapping, the gift revealed itself. Inside the box was a monstrous peach the size of a wok, carved out of wood.
“Why a peach?” Nuharoo asked. “Is it a jest?”
“Open it,” the Emperor urged.
Nuharoo left her seat and walked around the peach.
“Expose the pit,” His Majesty said.
A hush fell over the room.
After Nuharoo made a few rounds of touching, pinching and shaking, the peach fell open, splitting down the middle. At its heart was a creation that was the very essence of beauty, bringing gasps of admiration from the spectators-a pair of wondrous shoes.
If she hadn’t suffered in her childhood, she had suffered long and hard enough as a neglected wife to earn the right to this reward. The Manchu shoes with high heels were in the very best of taste, covered with sparkling gems like the dew on the petals of a spring peony. Nuharoo wept with happiness. During the months when Emperor Hsien Feng and I had lost count of our days, Nuharoo had become a walking ghost. Each night her face must have been the color of moonlight, and she must have chanted Buddhist prayers in order to sleep. Her jealousy was put to rest now that I had fallen from grace and become the same backyard concubine as she.
I complimented Nuharoo for her beauty and luck, and I asked if the shoes fit. Her reply surprised me. “His Majesty has granted his Chinese women palaces, pensions and servants in his will.”
I looked around, fearing what would happen if His Majesty heard this. But he had fallen asleep.
Nuharoo packed the shoes back into the peach and sent her eunuch to store the box. “Disregarding his own health, His Majesty has no intention of giving up the bound-feet women, and I am upset.”
“Indeed, His Majesty should take care of himself,” I echoed in a small voice. “For the sake of your birthday, Nuharoo, forget about it for a moment.”
“How?” Her tears welled up. “He hides the whores in the Summer Palace. He has spent taels building a water canal around his little ‘town of Soochow.’ Every shop along the river has been furnished and decorated. The teahouses now present the best operas, and the galleries the most famous artists. He has added stalls for artisans and fortunetellers, just like a real town-except there are no customers! His Majesty has even given names to the whores! One is called Spring, another Summer, and then there is Autumn and Winter. ‘Beauties for all seasons,’ he calls them. Lady Yehonala, His Majesty is sick of us Manchu ladies. One of these days he will collapse and die in the middle of his flagrant activities, and the embarrassment will be too great for us to bear.”
I took out my handkerchief and passed it to Nuharoo to wipe her tears. “We cannot take this personally. It is my feeling that His Majesty is not sick of us, but of his responsibility toward his country. Maybe our presence reminds him too much of his obligations. After all, we have been telling him that he is disappointing his ancestors.”
“Do you see any hope that His Majesty will come back to his senses?”
“Good news from the frontier would improve His Majesty’s mood and clear his thoughts,” I said. “In this morning’s court briefs, I read that General Tseng Kuo-fan has launched a campaign to drive the Taiping rebels back to Nanking. Let’s hope he succeeds. His force should be near Wuchang by now.”
She stopped me. “Oh, Yehonala. Don’t put me through this torture. I don’t want to know!”
I sat down on a side chair and took the tea An-te-hai passed to me.
“Well.” Nuharoo composed herself. “I am the Empress, and I need to know, correct? All right, tell me what you have to say, but keep it simple.”
I patiently tried to give Nuharoo some sense of the matter. Of course she couldn’t help but know a little already-that the Taipings were peasant rebels, that they had adopted Christianity, and that their leader, Hong Hsiu-chuan, claimed he was the younger son of God, the brother of Jesus. But Nuharoo had little knowledge of how successful they had been in battle. Although Hsien Feng would not publicly acknowledge the situation, the Taipings had taken the south, the country’s farming region, and had begun to press northward.
“What do these Taipings want?” Nuharoo blinked her eyes.
“To bring down our dynasty.”
“It is unthinkable!”
“As unthinkable as the treaties the foreigners have forced on us.”
Nuharoo’s expression reminded me of a child who had discovered a rat in her candy box.
“Free trade plus Christianity is how the foreigners would ‘civilize’ us.”
“What an insult!” Nuharoo sneered.
“I couldn’t agree more. The foreigners say they are here to save the souls of the Chinese.”
