at us with half-opened eyes. “The court has the right to issue documents of an urgent nature without your seals.”
“But this violates our agreement,” I said, trying to control my anger.
“As His Young Majesty’s regents,” Nuharoo followed, “we object to the content of the last decree. Prince Kung has a right to come to Jehol to mourn his brother.”
“We would like to see Prince Kung get his wish,” I pressed.
“Fine!” Su Shun stamped his foot. “If you want my job, it is yours. I refuse to work until you learn not to take my kindness for granted!”
He made a sloppy bow and walked out. In the courtyard the rest of his board members, whom we had not invited, received him.
The documents piled up, creating walls in my room. All requested immediate attention. Nuharoo regretted that we had challenged Su Shun.
I tried not to panic. I reviewed the documents as I had when working for Emperor Hsien Feng. I had to prove to Su Shun that I was equal to the job. I needed to earn the respect, not of Su Shun, but of the court.
As soon as I began to work, I realized that the task was more than I could handle. Su Shun had set me up.
Many of the cases were impossible to solve. Under the circumstances, it would be irresponsible to issue a judgment; only injustice and unnecessary pain would come of it. I lacked necessary information and was prevented from gathering it. In one case, a regional governor was accused of embezzlement and more than a dozen homicides. I needed to gather evidence and ordered an investigation, but I received no reports. Weeks later, I discovered that my order had never been acted on.
I called Su Shun and demanded an explanation.
He denied any responsibility and said that he wasn’t the one in charge. He referred me to the justice ministry. When I questioned the head minister, he said he had never received the order.
Letters from all over the country had begun to complain about the slow workings of the court. It was clear that Su Shun had planted the seed in people’s minds that I was the one holding everything back. The rumors spread like a contagious disease. I wasn’t sure how bad things had become until one day I received an open letter from a small-town mayor questioning my background and credentials. There was no way the man would ever dare to send such a letter unless he was backed by someone like Su Shun.
As I paced back and forth in my document-cluttered room, An-te-hai returned from taking Tung Chih for a visit to my sister. He was so nervous that he stuttered. “The t-town of Jehol has been g-go-gossiping about a ghost story. The folks b-believe that you are the incarnation of an evil concubine who is here to destroy the empire. Talk of supporting Su Shun’s action against you is everywhere.”
Realizing that I couldn’t afford to wait any longer, I went to Nuharoo.
“But how should we act?” Nuharoo asked.
“Issue an urgent decree in Tung Chih’s name summoning Prince Kung to Jehol,” I replied.
“Would it be valid?” Nuharoo became nervous. “Usually it is Su Shun who drafts orders and prepares edicts.”
“With both of our seals it is valid.”
“How would you get the decree to Prince Kung?”
“We must think of a way.”
“With Su Shun’s watchdogs everywhere, no one can get out of Jehol.”
“We must select a reliable person for the mission,” I said, “and he must be willing to die for us.”
An-te-hai asked for the honor. In exchange, he wanted me to promise that he would be allowed to serve me for the rest of his life. I gave him my word. I made him understand that if he was caught by Su Shun, I expected him to swallow the decree and do everything to avoid making a confession.
With Nuharoo by my side, I worked on the details of An-te-hai’s escape plan. My first step was to have An-te- hai spread a rumor among Su Shun’s circle. We targeted a man named Liu Jen-shou, a notorious gossip. The story we spread was that we had lost the most powerful seal of all, the Hsien Feng seal, which we carefully hid away. We created an impression that we had been concealing the truth because we understood that the penalty for losing the seal was death. We concocted three possibilities regarding the seal’s whereabouts. One, we had lost it on our way from Peking to Jehol; two, we had misplaced it somewhere in the Palace of Great Purity back in the Forbidden City; and three, we had left it with my jewelry boxes at Yuan Ming Yuan, which likely had been stolen by the barbarians.
Our rumor also said that Emperor Hsien Feng knew that the seal had been lost before he died, and he was too gentle-hearted to punish us. In order to protect us His Majesty hadn’t mentioned the disappearance to Su Shun.
As we had expected, Liu Jen-shou took little time in passing the rumor to Su Shun’s very ear. The story made sense to Su Shun, as no one could remember seeing the prized seal since leaving Peking.
Su Shun didn’t wait to make his move. He immediately requested an audience with us, which was attended by the entire court. He declared that he had just finished drafting a new decree addressing the nation regarding the moving of the coffin, and he needed to use the Hsien Feng seal.
Pretending to be nervous, I took out my handkerchief and wiped my forehead. “Our double seals are as good as the Hsien Feng seal,” I said in a small voice.
Su Shun was clearly pleased. The lines on his face danced and his veins stood out with excitement. “Where is the Hsien Feng seal?” he demanded.
With the excuse that I was suddenly feeling ill, Nuharoo and I requested that the audience be brought to an end.
Su Shun pressed onward. He kept at me until I confessed that An-te-hai had lost the seal.
An-te-hai was arrested and dragged out by the guards as he screamed for forgiveness. He was taken out for punishment-one hundred lashes.
I was afraid that An-te-hai wouldn’t be able to bear the suffering. Fortunately, the eunuch was meant to live-he truly had friends everywhere. Later, when he was brought back by Su Shun’s guards, his robe was in shreds and matted with blood.
I was aware that Su Shun was observing me, so I not only made myself look unmoved, but also said in a cold voice, “The eunuch deserved it.”
Water was poured over An-te-hai’s face and he came to. In front of the court, Nuharoo and I ordered An-te-hai to be thrown into the Imperial prison in Peking.
Su Shun didn’t want to let An-te-hai out of his sight, but Nuharoo and I insisted that we must rid ourselves of the ungrateful creature. When Su Shun protested, we argued that we had the right to punish our own house eunuch without restriction. We went to the back of the hall, to Hsien Feng’s coffin, and wept loudly.
Pressed by the senior clansmen to leave us alone, Su Shun relented. But he insisted that his men escort An- te-hai to Peking.
We agreed, and An-te-hai was on his way. Hidden between layers of An-te-hai’s shoes was the decree I had written.
In Peking, Su Shun’s men turned An-te-hai over to the minister of Imperial justice, Pao Yun, along with Su Shun’s secret message-I learned of this later-that An-te-hai be beaten to death. Unaware of the situation, Pao Yun prepared to carry out Su Shun’s order. But before the whips went to work, An-te-hai requested a private moment with the minister.
An-te-hai took out my decree from its hiding place.
Pao Yun was dumbfounded. Without delay he contacted Prince Kung.
Upon reading my decree, Prince Kung gathered his advisors. They listened to An-te-hai’s report on the situation in Jehol and discussed a course of action long into the night. The conclusion was unanimous: overthrow Su Shun.
Prince Kung understood that if he hesitated in helping Nuharoo and me, power could quickly fall into Su Shun’s hands. There would be no recovering from such a loss, since he and Prince Ch’un had been excluded from Emperor
