The Moon in the Palace (The Empress of Bright Moon Duology) (10 page)

the
Fifteenth Year
of
Emperor Taizong’s Reign
of
Peaceful Prospect

SUMMER

Later, I learned that the imperial Gold Bird Guards, led by the Captain, went to interrogate the court recorder that afternoon. They found nothing, because when they arrived at the Outer Palace, the recorder was already dead. Poisoned. No one knew if he had killed himself in fear or if he had been poisoned by someone else.

An extensive search was conducted to find any possible conspirators in the Outer Palace, and a strict curfew was imposed in the Inner Court. Every night, the guards’ footsteps echoed in the corridors, and many rats died, pierced by arrows, mistaken as human invaders scurrying on the ground. All the trees, those century-old elms, oaks, and maples, were chopped down so they would not provide any convenience to evildoers in the future.

The Gold Bird Guards expanded their search to the city. Sketches of the assassin were posted on the gates of the Western Market and the Eastern Market. The Emperor put out a reward for anyone who identified the man. A few days later, a hostel owner near the Northern District, where courtesans and unscrupulous, drunken men gathered for entertainment, reported that a man of similar description had lodged there three months before and that he was accompanied by two foreign-dressed men.

With the help of the hostel owner’s clue, the Guards expanded their search and found the two men, who were connected to the son of a chieftain of the Western Turks, the enemy of our kingdom.

The imperial cavalry, followed by many conscripted peasant soldiers, was soon dispatched to the border near the Western Turks’ territory. A punitive war started, turning the border towns into rubble, and many garrisons were established and enforced. Forts were built; more paid soldiers were enlisted. The news of the dust of the war and the cries of the dead were told in the palace for months.

• • •

I heard it all from within the safety of the Inner Court’s walls. Sometimes I thought it ironic that an evil plot had provided me with an entrance to a life I had dreamed about, but such was the design of life, that one could never foretell.

Inside the Inner Court, the maids looked much more splendid than the Selects did. They wore bright pink robes and long, transparent shawls. Their makeup was colorful, and they wore jade hairpins in their Cloudy Chignons. They glanced at me curiously, whispering among themselves. Obviously they knew I had saved the Emperor’s life, but when I nodded at them, they looked away.

When I passed the courtyards, flocks of golden orioles leaped and dove before me; roses, chrysanthemums, asters, and azaleas bloomed by the paths winding through gardens of peonies. In the large, silvery lakes, blue water lilies floated placidly, while frogs croaked and goldfish swam near the red-roofed pavilions. The land rose slightly in the distance and blended into the cloudy horizon; from afar, it seemed as if a garden had grown in the sky.

The beautiful scenery reminded me of the garden at home. The creation of a garden was meant to duplicate the paradise of the afterlife, Father had said, and its most important feature was the rocks, which must be placed carefully to resemble the islands of Penglai, the haunts of the Eight Immortals. I had seen many shapes of rocks in Father’s one-acre garden, but in the Inner Court, the scale of the garden and the number of unique rocks surprised me. There were rocks with perfectly smooth edges resembling giant eggs, rocks with perforated holes like beehives, rocks with deep hollows as wide as windows, and rocks bearing grotesque angles and shapes that suggested the peaks and valleys of the Tai mountain.

Father would have been happy to see that lovely garden.

I wished to tell him that I still remembered the promise I had made at our family’s grave site. I wished to tell him too that I still remembered how he had raised me and what he had wanted for me when he was alive. Born a humble man, Father had started out with selling lumber, built his fortune with his mere hands, and rose to be a powerful man who helped destroy a dynasty and found another. He wanted me, his daughter, his heir, to accomplish more than what he had achieved, to perpetuate his fame, and to reach a height no ordinary men, or women, could possibly dream of.

I would not disappoint him.

• • •

I was assigned to a bedchamber in a walled compound at the west side of the court. The eight other Talents were my roommates, and the Graces and Beauties shared the other houses in the compound. The area was far from the Quarters of the Pure Lotus, where the Four Ladies resided. The Quarters, I heard, encompassed many pavilions, courtyards with painted roofs, man-made lakes, and scented arboretums with perennial flowers.

I wished to meet the Four Ladies and see what they looked like. The Noble Lady was the daughter of the late Sui Emperor, I remembered. I did not know anything about the Pure Lady, Lady Virtue, or Lady Obedience.

Jewel, to my dismay, had become the Emperor’s Most Adored, and she had moved to the Quarters. I would perhaps run into her someday, but I wished with all my heart I would not have to see her again.

I was ordered to start etiquette training, which court protocol dictated that every titled woman must learn. The classroom, located in a wooded area near a hill, was decorated with five plaques written with Confucius’s virtues: courtesy, tolerance, faith, wisdom, and filial piety. Training with me were twenty-six other girls: Beauties, Graces, and Talents. Later, I learned they were ordered to go there every six months to refresh their training, and I was the only one who was new.

Similar to what we had done in the Yeting Court, we began with a recital. “Obey your parents, for it is from their veins your body is formed; revere your elders, for it is from their blood your name is given; submit to your superiors, for it is from their mouths that your food is provided; vow to your emperor, for it is by his grace that you walk on the ground…”

The words popped out of my mouth like tasteless, uncooked rice, yet I was told to recite them again and again. Finally, we finished, and I was ordered to put on a pair of boat-shaped shoes with heels that measured a hand’s length. Every titled lady must learn the “perfect walk,” the etiquette teacher said. “You must take a step half of your foot length each time. No more, no less. Your upper body must remain at a slight angle, so you will be ready to bow at any moment. When you walk, your skirt shall ruffle to a pleasing rhythm, and your eyes, no matter where your feet lead, must always focus on the ground five paces ahead.”

As I balanced myself on the boatlike shoes, she continued. “Remember, when you smile, you shall never reveal your teeth. Prior to speaking, you always bow, and when you are given permission to behold, you shall always set your gaze upon the other’s shoulder, never at the eyes.”

I recognized Rain, the teacher. She was the girl from Pheasant’s haystacks. Her eyes lingered on me when she caught my gaze. Then she looked away.

I thought of Pheasant and how he had helped me escape. I hoped the Captain had been kind to him and did not punish him. Ever since I had parted with him, I often studied myself in the bronze mirror, and I always made sure my hair was neat before leaving the chamber.

I wished to see Pheasant again and thank him. But it would be difficult to find him in the vast palace.

In the following days, I learned how to play
guzheng
, a rectangular instrument with eight cords. After the music lesson was my favorite calligraphy class, but I had learned four types of scripts since I was six: seal script, grass script, standard script, and running script. Seal script and standard script required the calligrapher to follow the rules of the square shapes and straight lines. Grass script emphasized free, unrestrained movement, and running script was a compromise between the standard script and grass script. I was best at grass script, for I loved to see the brush run freely on paper.

After those lessons came lectures for reception, rituals, visiting rites, and procession rules, and practices of bearing banners, practices of carrying wine vessels and holding parasols, and then tests that concerned the titles of the ladies and the contents of their monthly allowances. There were math lessons too—mainly counting. I had learned that when I was five.

I asked Teacher Rain when the training would end.

“When you receive an assignment.” She gave me a long look.

“What assignment?”

“What else?” She lifted her triangular face. “You shall empty Most Adored’s chamber pot, if you are fortunate.”

I wished I had not asked her. She obviously resented me, and I hoped, with all my heart, that I would not serve Jewel.

When I had some leisure time, I went to the court’s library, which collected Ban Zhao’s
Lessons for Women
and rhapsodies from the Warring States period. I was disappointed. I missed the
Four Books and Five Classics
, Confucius’s
Analects
, or even Lao Tzu’s
Tao Te Ching
. But the book I missed most was Sun Tzu’s
The Art of War
. I remembered what he said: “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained, you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”

I had known Jewel. Did I know myself? I thought so. Then I did not need to be afraid.

And since I was right beside the Emperor, I would fend off Jewel’s swords and advance with the master’s shield of wisdom, and very soon, I would win the Emperor’s heart.

• • •

Jewel caught me on my way to the classroom one afternoon. “How good it is to see you, Mei. It has been a long time.”

She strutted in a stunning pale blue gown, her white hair adorned with a long, iridescent kingfisher feather that almost reached the top of the willow tree near the trail. Two girls wearing garlands of peonies scattered rose petals on the path for her to tread on, and behind her, a train of servants followed.

Anger rushed to my tongue, but I bit my lips and bowed. “Most Adored.”

“I must say I was surprised by what you did, Mei. How courageous you were to save the Emperor’s life, and now you’re a Talent. Look how far you have come. How is your training going?”

Her voice was gentle, but I knew what kind of woman she was. I would never trust a word of hers again. “As to be expected, Most Adored,” I said. “If you will pardon me, I must take my leave now.”

She walked closer to me, treading on the petals. “Don’t hate me, Mei. Truthfully, you cannot blame me.”

Would she say the same thing if I had betrayed her? I looked away.

“If you wish, Mei, come and visit me. We shall have a nice talk.”

I shook my head and turned to a path near the willow. I did not like the fact that Jewel knew everything about me. And I was worried. I did not believe she had run into me by accident. She must have been planning something, but I did not know what.

• • •

“Do you wish to know their secrets?” a girl with buck teeth said to me when I was having the midday meal in a loud dining hall, where the middle-ranking and lower-ranking ladies sat at low tables and many eunuchs threaded through the crowd to deliver trays.

Her name was Plum, one of my Talent roommates. She was always busy talking at bedtime, and during the lesson, she had paid no attention to Teacher Rain, so busy was she whispering to the others.

“Whose secret?” I asked.

“That girl.” She pointed at a glum-looking girl sitting in a corner. “She is a Grace. Look at her, she’s scratching her head again. Don’t go near her; she has lice. And that girl in the green-and-white gown over there, she has terrible body odor. You know what I am talking about, don’t you? The stink of a fox. She’s never going to be favored, I tell you now.”

I hesitated, unsure whether I should trust her. But I liked her. She had an innocent look on her face despite her talkativeness, and she was definitely different from Jewel. “Those are big secrets.”

Smiling, she nudged me with her elbow. “Now tell me yours.”

I slowly chewed a piece of pork belly. After I swallowed, she was still staring at me, almost nose to nose. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

The other Talents near us finished their food and moved away. There were only the two of us. Plum licked her lips. “You were very brave, saving the Emperor’s life,” she said. “How did you do it?”

“I ran,” I said. “I was not brave. I was frightened to death.”

“I know it. Anyone would be frightened.” Plum grinned. “So do you like the training? I hate the ‘perfect walk,’ by the way. It gave me blisters, and when they popped, the fluid stuck to the inside of my clogs. I cried every day when I first came here. If you saved all my tears in a barrel, they’d flood the whole court.”

“It must be a very big barrel.” I smiled. I liked the fact that she knew many things about the girls. She would be the perfect supplier of resources, and perhaps a good spy. “How long have you been in the Inner Court, Plum?”

“About three years.”

I finished my food and stacked the bowl and saucers on the tray. “Have you met the Four Ladies?”

“Of course. They’re like four gods ruling the four directions of the court.” Plum looked around and cupped her hand at my ear. “But to tell you the truth, the only lady we love is the Noble Lady. You’ve heard of her, right? She’s very powerful. She oversees the Imperial Silkworm Workshops, and she is a weaver herself, most kind and generous.”

“She is also the daughter of Emperor Yang from the Sui Dynasty,” I said, recalling Father’s story.

“So you do know.”

“Why did the Emperor not make her the Empress?” After all, it had been almost three years since Empress Wende’s death, and the Noble Lady had a son, Prince Ke, who was one year younger than the Crown Prince. She would be a good candidate for the crown.

“That’s a long story.” Plum sighed. “The Pure Lady would like to be the Empress herself, and she is gathering support for her son, Prince Yo.”

I placed his name among the list of the princes. He was the fourth living son of the Emperor, after Taizi and Prince Ke. “What kind of support?”