was the only way for the two of us to get back together. To be treated as an equal was all I was asking.
To put an end to the rumor that Prince Kung and I were enemies, I issued another edict, granting Kung permission to do something he had long dreamed of: opening an elite academy, the Royal School of Science and Mathematics.
Tung Chih complained about a stomachache and was excused from attending the morning audience. I sent An- te-hai to check on him in the afternoon. My son would turn thirteen this year, and he had been Emperor for seven years. I understood why he hated his duties and would run away whenever possible, but still, I was disappointed.
I couldn't escape my thoughts of Tung Chih as I sat on the throne and listened to Yung Lu reading from Tseng Kuo-fan's letter about the replacements for Governor Ho and Sheng Pao, which still had not been finalized. I had to force myself to concentrate.
I kept my eyes on the door and hoped to hear the announcement that my son was coming. Finally he arrived. The audience of fifty men got down on their knees and greeted him. Tung Chih went to sit on the throne and didn't bother to nod.
My handsome boy had shaved for the first time. He had shot up in height lately. His moonlit eyes and gentle voice reminded me of his father's. In front of the court he appeared confident. But I knew that his restlessness had only continued to grow.
I left Tung Chih alone most of the time because I was ordered to. Nuharoo had made it clear that it was her duty to speak for the Emperor's needs. 'Tung Chih must be given a chance to mature on his own terms.'
The court had a hard time controlling Tung Chih's wildness. Eventually Prince Kung's son, Tsai-chen, was brought in to be Tung Chih's study mate. Although I was given no say in the decision, I was impressed by Tsai- chen's good manners and was relieved to see that the two boys became friends right away.
Tsai-chen was two years older than Tung Chih, and his experience in the outside world fascinated the young Emperor, who was forbidden to step outside the Imperial gates and who would do anything to get a story out of Tsai-chen. The boys also shared an interest in Chinese opera.
Unlike Tung Chih, Tsai-chen was a robust, well-built boy. Horseback riding was his passion. I hoped that under his friend's influence my son would pick up the Bannerman tradition, the ancient practices of the Manchu warriors who had conquered Han China two centuries before. Our family paintings depicted the Manchu emperors taking part in events through the year: martial arts, horseracing, autumn hunting. For six generations the Manchu emperors carried on the tradition, until my husband Hsien Feng. It would be a dream come true for me to see Tung Chih mount his horse one day.
'I depart for Wuchang this evening.' Yung Lu stood in front of me.
'What for?' I asked, upset by the suddenness of the news.
'Warlords in Jiang-hsi province have demanded the right to command private armies.'
'Don't they already do so?'
'Yes, but they want the formal sanction of the court,' Yung Lu replied. 'And of course they not only look to avoid taxes, they expect additional funding from the court.'
'It is a buried issue.' I turned my head away. 'Emperor Hsien Feng rejected the proposal long ago.'
'The warlords mean to challenge Emperor Tung Chih, Your Majesty.'
'What do you mean?'
'A rebellion is in the making.'
I looked at Yung Lu and understood.
'Can you leave the matter to Tseng Kuo-fan?' I felt uneasy about letting Yung Lu go to the frontier.
'The warlords will consider the consequences more seriously if they know they are dealing directly with you.'
'Is this Tseng Kuo-fan's idea?'
'Yes. The general suggested that you take advantage of your recent victories in court.'
'Tseng Kuo-fan wants me to bear more blood,' I said. 'Yung Lu, General Tseng would pass his 'Head-Chopper' name to me, if that is what you mean by my recent victories. The thought does not appeal to me.' I paused and emotion filled my throat. 'I want to be liked. Not feared.'
Yung Lu shook his head. 'I agree with Tseng. You are the only person the warlords fear today.'
'But you know how I feel.'
'Yes, I do. But think of Tung Chih, Your Majesty.' I looked at him and nodded.
'Let me go and straighten out the matter for Tung Chih,' he said.
'It is not safe for you to go.' I became nervous and began to speak fast. 'I need your protection here.'
Yung Lu explained that he had already made the arrangements and that I would be safe.
I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye.
Without looking at me, he asked for forgiveness and was gone.
4
It was the spring of 1868 and rain soaked the soil. Blue winter tulips in my garden began to rot. I was thirty- four years old. My nights were filled with the sound of crickets. The smell of incense fluttered over from the Palace Temple, where the senior concubines lived. It was strange that I still didn't know all of them. Visits were purely ceremonial inside the Forbidden City. The ladies spent their days carving gourds, raising silkworms and doing embroidery. Images of children appeared in their needlework, and I continued to receive clothing made for my son by these women.
My husband's younger wives, Lady Mei and Lady Hui, were said to have met with a secret curse. They spoke the words of the dead, and they insisted that their heads had been soaked in the rain throughout the season. To prove their point, they took down their headpieces and showed the eunuchs where water had seeped through to the roots of their hair. Lady Mei was said to be fascinated by images of death. She ordered new bed sheets of white silk and spent her days washing them herself. 'I want to be wrapped in these sheets when I die,' she said in an operatic voice. She drilled her eunuchs in the practice of wrapping her in the sheets.
I dined alone after the day's audience. I no longer paid attention to the parade of elaborate dishes and ate from the four bowls An-te-hai placed in front of me. They were usually simple greens, bean sprouts, soy chicken and steamed fish. I often took a walk after dinner, but today I went straight to bed. I told An-te-hai to wake me in an hour because I had important work to do.
The moonlight was bright, and I could see the calligraphy of an eleventh-century poem on the wall:
An image of Yung Lu entered my mind, and I wondered where he was and whether he was safe.
'My lady,' came An-te-hai's whisper,'the theater is crowded before the show is even created.' Lighting a candle, my eunuch drew near. 'Your Majesty's private life has been the talk of teahouses throughout Peking.'
I didn't want to let it bother me. 'Go away, An-te-hai.'
