Empress Orchid (12 page)

It was very warm in the temple. Since no one was watching, I allowed my bows to become less deep. Gradually the bows were replaced by nods. My eyes made sure that the monk didn’t discover my mischief. I kept looking at him until the sound of his
mooyu
faded into silence. He must have fallen asleep. I wiped off my sweat but remained in the bowing position just in case. My eyes traveled from corner to corner. The temple was filled with gods of all kinds. Besides the official Manchu god, which was called Shaman, there were Taoist gods, Buddhist gods and Kuan Kong, a Chinese folk god.

“There was a prince who during his worship discovered that the
Chinese god’s clay horse had been sweating.” The monk suddenly spoke as if he had been watching me all along. “The prince concluded that the god must be working hard riding his horse, patrolling the palaces. From then on Kuan Kong became a key figure for worshipers in the Forbidden City.”

“Why does each god sit in his own booth?” I asked.

“Because they deserve attention for who they are,” the monk replied. “For example, the venerable Tsongkapa was the founding father of Yellow Sect Buddhism. He is the one who sits on a golden chair against that wall with a hundred small copies of himself. Beneath his feet is a Buddhist sutra in Manchu.”

My eyes went to the deep end of the hall where a large vertical silk painting was on display. It was a portrait of Emperor Chien Lung in a Buddhist robe. I asked the monk if Chien Lung, my grandfather-in-law, had been a believer. The monk informed me that not only was he a devoted Buddhist, he was also an adept in the Mee Tsung religion, which originally was a branch of Buddhism. “His Majesty spoke Tibetan and read sutras in the Tibetan language as well,” the monk said, and went back to tapping his
mooyu.

I was exhausted. Now I understood why the other concubines wouldn’t come.

The monk rose from his chanting mat and said that it was time to move on. I followed him to an altar in an open court. He led me to kneel in front of a block of marble and started chanting again.

It was noon and the sun beat directly on my back. I prayed for the ceremony to be over.

According to An-te-hai, this should have been the last act. The monk was beside me on his knees, and his beard was touching the ground. After three deep bows he got up. He opened a manuscript of recorded deeds and began to read, in Mandarin, the names of ancestors followed by descriptions of their lives. The descriptions were almost uniform, all praise and no criticism. Words like “virtue” and “honor” were in every paragraph. The monk told me to knock my forehead on the ground five times for every new name. I followed his instructions.

The names on the monk’s list seemed endless and my forehead was becoming raw. The strength to continue came only from my understanding that the end was near.

But I was wrong.

The monk continued his reading. My nose was a few inches from his feet, and I could see their calluses. My forehead must be bleeding by
now, I thought. I bit my lip. Finally he was done with his list, but then he said that I had to repeat the same ceremony in the Manchu language.

I prayed that An-te-hai would rescue me. Where was he?

The monk had begun in Manchu. He droned on, and I could understand nothing except for the names of the emperors. Unconsciousness was about to claim me when I saw An-te-hai. He rushed toward me and helped me rise.

“I am sorry, my lady. I didn’t know that this monk would keep reading until his victim passed out. I thought my brothers were joking when they told me about him.”

“May we leave now?” I asked.

“I am afraid not, my lady. Your good deed will not be recorded unless it is completed properly.”

“I shall not survive this!”

“Don’t worry,” An-te-hai whispered. “I have just offered a handsome bribe. He assured me that the rest of the ceremony will take little time.”

Stone gods lined the edge of the site, an open space with one wall to the west. A fifty-foot flagpole stood to the southeast. On top of the pole was a bird feeder. Birds were said to deliver the Emperor’s messages to the spirits. There was a strange object hanging on the wall. As I walked closer I was able to tell that it was a dust-colored cotton bag.

“The bag belonged to the dynasty’s founding father, King Nurhachi,” the senior monk explained. “Inside are the bones of the king’s father and grandfather. Nurhachi carried them back to the tribe to be buried after the two men were slaughtered by the enemy.”

The monk clapped his hands. Two women whose faces were caked with mud appeared. “The witches of the Shaman tribes,” the monk introduced. The women’s robes were thick with patterns of black spiders. Their hats were covered in fish scales made of copper. Dangling over their heads, ears and necks were beads made from fruit pits. Bells were tied to their limbs. Drums of different sizes hung from their necks and waists. They each had a three-foot-long brown “tail” made of braided leather strips hanging from their behinds. As they started to dance they encircled me. Their mouths smelled of garlic. They sang by imitating animal sounds.

I had never seen such a disturbing dance. The women were in a squatting position most of the time. The “tails” looked more like stringy excrement.

“Don’t you move!” the monk called when he saw that I was attempting to stretch my legs.

The dancers sprang away and went to encircle the flagpole. They spun around like headless chickens with their arms waving at the sky. They shouted, “Pig! Pig!”

A trussed pig was carried over by four eunuchs. The animal wailed. The dancers hopped back and forth across its body. The pig was carried away. A golden plate was brought over with a flopping fish on it. The monk told me that the fish had been caught from the nearest pond. The young monk returned and skillfully trussed the fish with a red ribbon.

“On your heels!” The senior monk dragged me up and grabbed my right hand. Before I realized what was going on, a knife was put in my hand and I was forced to slice open the fish.

An-te-hai and the young monk supported me with their knees and arms so I wouldn’t collapse.

A blanched pig’s head was carried in on a large tray. The senior monk told me that it was the wailing pig I had seen a moment ago. “Only a freshly slaughtered and boiled pig will guarantee the magic.”

I shut my eyes and took deep breaths. Someone gripped my left hand and tried to loosen my stiff fingers. I opened my eyes and saw the dancers, who offered me a golden bowl.

“Hold it!” the senior monk commanded.

I was too weak to protest.

A rooster was brought before me. Once again I was handed a knife. The knife kept slipping through my fingers. The monk took the bowl into his own hands and told me to grab the rooster. “Cut its throat and pour its blood into the bowl!”

“I … can’t …” I felt that I was about to faint.

“Steady, my lady,” An-te-hai said. “It is the end!”

The last thing I remembered was that I poured wine upon the cobblestones where the fish, the pig’s head and the rooster lay in their blood.

On my way back in the palanquin I threw up. An-te-hai told me that every day a pig was brought through the Gate of Thunder and Storm and was sacrificed by noon. The headless pigs were supposed to be discarded after the ceremony, but they were not. The eunuchs of the temple hid them, chopped them up and sold them for a good price. “For over two hundred years, the broth in the giant wok that the pigs were boiled in has never been changed,” An-te-hai told me. “The fire in the
stove has never been allowed to die. The eunuchs hawked the pig meat: ‘This is no ordinary meat. It has been dipped in the heavenly soup! It will bring you and your family luck and great fortune!’”

Nothing changed after my visit to the temple. By the end of autumn my hope to gain Emperor Hsien Feng’s attention was completely crushed. All night long I listened to crickets singing. The crickets in the Imperial backyard did not sound the same as the ones in Wuhu. Wuhu crickets carried short tunes, with three beats between each interval. The Imperial crickets sang without rest.

An-te-hai told me that the senior concubines who lived in the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility raised the crickets. When the weather was warm the crickets began to sing right after dark. Thousands of crickets lived in
yoo-hoo-loos,
bottle-shaped gourds made by the concubines.

The storm season started early this year, and the flowers were beaten. White petals covered the ground, and their fragrance was so strong that it filled my room. The roots of my peonies were soaked by the daylong rains and began to rot. Bushes were sick with brownish spots. Puddles were everywhere. I quit walking outside after An-te-hai stepped on a water scorpion. His heel swelled to the size of an onion.

Every day I went about the same routine. I put on makeup and dressed in the morning and took it all off in the evening. I waited for His Majesty and did nothing else. The sound of the crickets got sadder and sadder in my ears. I tried not to think of my family.

An-te-hai went to the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility and came back with a basketful of beautifully carved
yoo-hoo-loos.
He wanted to show me how to grow and carve the gourds. He promised that it would help lift my loneliness, as it had for many other concubines. The gourd, he pointed out, was an auspicious symbol, implying a wish for “numerous descendants.”

“Here are the seeds from last year.” An-te-hai offered me a handful, which looked like black sesame seeds. “You plant them in the spring. After they blossom, the gourds will begin to form. You can design a cage that will force the gourd to grow into a desired shape—round, rectangular, square or asymmetric. When it is ripe, the shell will turn hard. You then pick the gourd off the vine, empty out the seeds and carve it into a piece of art.”

I studied the gourds An-te-hai had brought. The designs and colors were intricate and rich. A spring motif was used over and over. I was especially moved by one piece showing babies playing in a tree.

• • •

After dinner An-te-hai took me to visit the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility. We each carried gourds. Instead of calling for the palanquin I walked. We crossed several courtyards. As we approached the palace, there was a strong smell of incense. We entered clouds of smoke. I heard mourning sounds and figured that it might be monks chanting.

An-te-hai suggested that we first stop at the Pavilion of Streams to return the gourds. As we passed the gate and entered the garden, I was struck by the grand temples covering the hills. Statues of Buddha were everywhere. The small ones were egg-sized; I could sit on the feet of the big ones. The names of the temples were carved on golden boards:
Palace of Excellent Health, Palace of Eternal Peace, Hall of Mercy, Mansion of Lucky Cloud, Mansion of Eternal Calm.
Some were built from existing pavilions, others from existing rooms and gardens. Every space was crowded with pagodas and altars.

“The elderly concubines have turned their living quarters into temples,” An-te-hai whispered. “They spend their lives doing nothing but chanting. Each has a small bed behind the statue of a Buddha.”

I wanted to know what the concubines looked like, so I followed the sound of their chanting. I descended a path leading to the Hall of Abundant Youth. An-te-hai told me that it was the largest of these temples. As I entered, I saw that the floor was covered with praying figures. The incense smoke was thick. The worshipers rose and fell on their knees like an ocean wave. They chanted tonelessly, their hands busy moving beads strung on waxed threads.

I realized that An-te-hai was not with me. I had forgotten that eunuchs were not allowed in certain religious areas.

The sound of chanting became louder. The huge Buddha in the middle of the hall smiled ambiguously. For a moment reality escaped me. I became one of the concubines on the floor. I could see myself carving gourds. I could see my skin wrinkle and then crease into folds. My hair was turning white and I could feel my teeth falling out.

“No!” I screamed.

The
yoo-hoo-loos
I carried fell from my hands.

The chanting stopped. Hundreds of heads turned in my direction.

I was unable to move.

The concubines stared at me. Their toothless jaws cracked open. Their hair was so thin that they looked bald.

I had never seen such grave-looking ladies. Their backs were hunched and their limbs reminded me of gnarled trees on the tops of mountains. There was no trace of past beauty on these faces. I couldn’t imagine any of them being the subject of an emperor’s passion.

The women raised their stick-thin arms toward the sky. Claw-like hands made scratching motions.

I felt an overwhelming sense of pity for them. “I’m Orchid,” I heard myself say. “How do you do?”

They rose, narrowing their eyes. Their expressions were predatory.

“We have an intruder!” came an ancient, trembling voice. “What do we do with her?”

“Pinch her to death!” was the crowd’s shrill response.

I threw myself on the floor and kowtowed repeatedly. I explained that it was wrong for me to intrude. I apologized and promised that they would never see me again.

But the women were determined to reach me and tear me apart. One woman pulled my hair, another punched my chin. I begged to be forgiven as I tried to back up toward the gate.

The women laughed hysterically, kicking, pushing and tossing me back and forth.

I was pinned to a wall. Several strong hands grabbed my throat. I could feel the long-nailed fingers pressing and cutting off my breath. The old faces crowded in on me like black clouds rolling over a sky. “Slut!” they cursed. “Now pray to Buddha before you die.”

Suddenly the crowd was distracted. An-te-hai had climbed on top of the gate and was now throwing down gourds loaded with rocks. “Toothless ghosts!” he yelled. “Go back! Back to your coffins!”

I SENT An-te-hai for Chief Eunuch Shim. When Shim arrived, I received him in my official court robe with full makeup and headdress. He was surprised.

“Lady Yehonala.” Shim got down on his knees and kept his eyes on the floor. “You needn’t be so formal. As your slave, Shim doesn’t deserve such respect.” He paused and raised his eyes to my knees. The half-revealed pupils made him look like a lizard. “I don’t mean to criticize, but Lady Yehonala, you should be careful. You can get both of us in trouble.”

“I am desperate, Chief Shim,” I said. “Please rise and have a seat.”

As I spoke, I signaled to An-te-hai, who brought out a carved golden box.

“Chief Shim, I have a humble gift for you.” I opened the box and took out the
ruyi
that Emperor Hsien Feng had given me.

Upon seeing the
ruyi
Shim nearly jumped. His eyes were so wide I thought his eyeballs would fall out of their sockets. “It is … it is His Majesty’s engagement gift to you, Lady Yehonala! It is an authenticated piece, a pledge. If you don’t know its value, allow me to—”

“I’m glad that you recognize the value.” I smiled. “However, I still would like you to have it.”

“Why, Lady Yehonala? Why?”

“I’d like to exchange it for a favor, Chief Shim.” I made him look me in the eye. “To tell you the truth, this
ruyi
is the last thing I own. I want to give it to you because I understand the value of your help.”

“Lady Yehonala, please. I … can’t accept it.” He got up, only to crash down on his knees again.

“Rise, Chief Shim.”

“I dare not!”

“I insist.”

“But Lady Yehonala!”

I waited until he was on his feet. “The
ruyi
”—I uttered each word with deliberation—“will be more valuable when I become the mother of Emperor Hsien Feng’s child.”

The expression on Chief Eunuch Shim’s face froze. He seemed to be transfixed by the possibility.

“Yes, Lady Yehonala.” He knocked his forehead on the floor.

I let him go on for a while and then said, “Thank you for helping me.”

Slowly Chief Eunuch Shim got up. He shook his sleeves and breathed deeply. A moment later, he was himself again. He seemed to be pleased and frightened at the same time. He took the
ruyi
from my hand and held it to his chest.

“Which date, my lady, would you like me to schedule you with His Majesty?” he asked, putting the
ruyi
in the inner pocket of his robe.

“Does the date make a difference?” I had not been prepared for such a quick response.

“A big difference, my lady. You want to see His Majesty on your most fertile days, don’t you?”

“That’s right.” I quickly calculated the dates.

“And the date is?”

“The fourteenth day of the next full moon.”

“Perfect, my lady. I’ll mark the date in my book right away. If you don’t hear from me, we are set. If everything goes right with His Majesty, you will be summoned on the fourteenth day of the next full moon. Until then, my lady.” He took a step back and then motioned toward the door.

“Wait.” I didn’t trust him. How could a date with Emperor Hsien Feng be so easily arranged? “Chief Shim, please bear with my questions. What if His Majesty wants to see other ladies on that day? How can you be sure to make him want me instead?”

“Don’t worry, my lady.” He smiled. “I have a way to bend the wind in the Forbidden City.”

“And that is to say …”

“That is to say if Emperor Hsien Feng expresses a desire to see any
other lady—for example, Lady Li—I’ll say to him, ‘Your Majesty, Lady Li is unclean.’”

“Well, what about Lady Mei?”

“‘I’m sorry, your Majesty, Lady Mei is unclean too.’”

“So, everyone will have their cycle except the one you want to sleep with the Emperor?”

“Yes. I have succeeded many times.”

“I am counting on you to make it work for me, Chief Shim.”

“You needn’t worry, my lady. I’ll whet His Majesty’s appetite by telling him how delicious you are.”

But I did worry, and now I had only twelve days to prepare myself. I had no idea how to please a man in bed. I needed to be instructed immediately. I thought of Big Sister Fann and wished that I could speak with her, but there was no way I could get out of the Forbidden City. To ask for permission to leave, I had to lie. I sent An-te-hai to the Imperial household to report that my mother was ill and I needed to go home. Two days later, permission was granted for a ten-day leave. An-te-hai told me that I was lucky. Just a few weeks ago Lady Li had made the same request—her mother was truly ill—and been refused. Emperor Hsien Feng was taking his pleasure, and he would not release her. Lady Li’s mother had died.

“That shows how unimportant I am to His Majesty,” I said bitterly.

I arrived home at noon and immediately sent An-te-hai to fetch Big Sister Fann. My mother, Rong and Kuei Hsiang were thrilled to see me. Mother planned to take me shopping, but I begged her to stay home and not to leave the bed until my visit was over. I explained that I had lied to the Emperor, and that I could be beheaded if found out.

Mother was shocked and thought my behavior unforgivable. But after I described my situation, she had no trouble staying in bed. She said she felt sick and asked Rong to place some towels by her bedside. Rong put a pot of strong-scented herb medicine on the stove in case the Forbidden City sent its spies.

Big Sister Fann came. “Impressive, Orchid! Impressive! You are like a pepper in autumn—turning redder and hotter each day!” She had no time to tell me how much she missed me. “I have a place for you to learn what is required, but you must disguise yourself.” I exchanged clothes with Rong. Big Sister Fann handed a set of women’s clothes to An-te-hai.

“I am taking Orchid to visit a friend,” Big Sister Fann told my mother.

We were out in the street when Fann told me that we were heading for the House of Lotus.

“Big Sister Fann!” I knew the nature of the house and hesitated.

“I wish we had a choice, Orchid,” she said apologetically.

I stood in the middle of the road, unable to make a decision.

“What are you thinking, Orchid?”

“To win His Majesty’s heart” were the words that jumped out of my mouth.

“Then come, Orchid. We will use the house only for what it can teach us—the ways of pleasing men.”

We hired a donkey cart. After half an hour we arrived in the west corner of Peking. The streets narrowed and the air smelled sour. We dismounted in the back of a busy street where shopkeepers stacked their rotten fruit and vegetable baskets. I hid my face behind a scarf and walked quickly with Big Sister Fann and An-te-hai. We stopped in front of an old building. A lantern sign hung down from the second floor that read
House of Lotus.

The three of us entered a dimly lit hallway. The interior was covered with murals depicting elaborate bedrooms where lavishly dressed people indulged themselves in every way imaginable. The characters were stylishly drawn. After my eyes adjusted to the light I began to see the shabbiness—chipped paint and falling plaster everywhere. The place had an odd odor, a mixture of perfume and stale tobacco.

A frog-faced woman appeared behind a counter. She had a smoking pipe sticking out of her mouth. She greeted Big Sister Fann with a broad smile. “What wind has brought you here, my friend?”

“The southern wind, Mistress,” answered Fann. “I am here to ask you a favor.”

“Don’t be modest about your intention.” The Mistress patted Big Sister Fann’s shoulder with one hand. “I know you are with the spirit of the god of money or you wouldn’t be here. My temple is too small for a big worshiper like you.”

“Don’t be modest yourself, Mistress,” Big Sister Fann said. “Your small temple happens to have the god I need to talk to. Come.” She pulled me over and introduced me as her niece from the countryside, and An-te-hai as my sister.

The Mistress looked me up and down. She turned to Big Sister Fann. “I am afraid I can’t offer much. This girl is too skinny. How can
you expect a spider to spin when it has no butt? It’ll take me too much money just to fatten her up.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Big Sister Fann leaned toward the Mistress. She pulled her ear and whispered, “My niece is here for a consultation only.”

“I don’t do small business anymore, sorry.” The Mistress took a toothpick from a shelf behind the counter and started to run it over her teeth. “The market has been bad, you know.”

Big Sister Fann winked at me.

I cleared my throat.

An-te-hai stepped up and passed me a bag.

I went to the counter and removed what was in the bottom of the bag.

My dragonfly hairpin, inlaid with jewels and pearls, glistened in the light. I put it on the counter.

“Oh, my heavens!” The Mistress drew a breath and tried not to show surprise. Covering her mouth with both hands, she studied the hairpin. Raising her chin, she looked at me suspiciously. “You stole this.”

“No, I didn’t,” I said calmly. “It was an inheritance.”

“That’s right,” Big Sister Fann echoed. “Her family have been jewelry makers for … centuries.”

“I am not doubting whether it is real,” the Mistress said as her eyes continued to search me. “I only wonder why such a rare treasure is outside of the Forbidden City.”

To avoid the Mistress’s stare, I turned to look at the murals.

“Is that enough for your consultation?” Big Sister Fann asked.

“You are too kind.” The Mistress picked up her pipe and stuffed dry leaves in it. “My only hesitation is that I am not sure it is safe for me to keep. If it is a stolen piece …” She paused. Her hand drew a hanging rope in the air.

“Let’s go to another house, Aunt.” I reached for the hairpin.

“Wait!” The Mistress put her hand on top of mine. Gently but firmly she picked up the hairpin. Her face turned into a smiling rose. “Oh, my dear child, don’t dare make a fool of your aunt. I didn’t say I didn’t want it, did I? It is good that you were brought to me, because I am the only lady in town who can offer what you want. My child, I am going to give you the lesson of a lifetime. I am going to be worthy of your priceless hairpin.”

We sat in the master chamber. It had a large bed with decorative posts up to the ceiling. Made of redwood, the bed had been carved with pe-
onies, eggplants, tomatoes, bananas and cherries, which suggested male and female sexual organs. The curtains were washed white and perfumed. The side walls had built-in shelves displaying miniature sculptures. Most were Buddhist gods in the middle of coupling. The actions were cleverly depicted, the poses elegant. Females mounted males in positions of meditation. The lovers’ eyes were either half open or closed. Between each couple were displayed plates painted with individual pink peonies and eggplants. The peonies had dark, hair-like pistils and the eggplants had cap-like tops painted in light purple.

“It is all about arousing the mind,” the Mistress commented as she served tea. “When girls first come to my house, I teach them a skill called the fan dance. “The Mistress opened a chest and pulled out a set of props: a small round pillow, a stack of paper money, and a dozen eggs on a bamboo tray.

“I lay these objects on top of one another, with the money on the bottom, the pillow in the middle and the eggs on top. The girl sits on the arrangement. She is given one minute to turn the stack of money into the shape of a fan. The rule is that the eggs cannot be broken.”

How was this possible?

The Mistress snapped her fingers.

Two girls entered from a side door. They were in their late teens and were dressed in thin brocaded robes. Although they had pleasant features, they showed no hospitality. They spit out sunflower seeds, kicked off their slippers and climbed onto the bed. Opening their legs, they squatted over the eggs like two hens.

The Mistress snapped her fingers again, and the girls started to rock their bottoms.

The view was unbearably comic and I failed to suppress a giggle.

Big Sister Fann jabbed me with her elbow.

I apologized but could hardly control myself.

“You won’t be laughing when you start practicing yourself, believe me,” the Mistress said. “It takes a great deal of effort to master the trick.”

I asked what this movement was for.

“It is to help you gain power and control of your body,” the Mistress replied. “It is to add sensitivity to your bottom lips.”

Bottom lips?

“Follow my advice and practice, and you will understand what it is for. When the skill is mastered, you will drown the man beneath you in pleasure and he will remember your name.”

The words got me. Yes, I would like to have Emperor Hsien Feng re-
member my name. I would like His Majesty to remember the pleasure along with its deliverer.

I looked at the ivory-colored rocking behinds and tried to picture the girls in bed with men. My cheeks started to burn. It was not out of shame but from the knowledge that I was going to try this myself.

“We have been in business a long time,” the Mistress said, trying to brush away my doubts. “Men come at all costs. We bring life back to them. We release the beast out of younger men and make older men know their youth once again.”

My eyes were on the girls, who were now balanced on their limbs.

“This is a time-tested position.” The Mistress gave a mysterious smile. “You see, the girls from good families are taught to despise my house. Such girls don’t know that it is because of them I am in business. The good girls never know what my girls know; therefore they end up keeping their house, and my girls their husbands and their money!”

“How long does it take to master the … dance?” I asked, wanting to get out of here as soon as I could.

“Three months.” The Mistress pulled over a chair and sat down.

I had only ten days!

“Every day you squat on top of the eggs and rock your behind.” The Mistress lit her pipe and inhaled. “After three months, your bottom lips will grow a little thicker and fatter than a normal woman’s. When a man wears those lips, you will drive him wild. He will want to die for you, and you will be able to empty his pockets.”