"The worst punishment for a female ghost is being dumped in the 'Pool of Filthy Blood.'" Nuharoo showed me a book with lurid ill.u.s.trations of the "Department of Scourging" at work in the underworld. Severed heads with long hair floated in a dark red pool-they looked like dumplings in boiling water.

"See this? This is what I wanted to talk to you about," Nuharoo said. "The blood in the pool comes from the filth of all women. Also in the pool are poisonous snakes and scorpions that feed on the newly dead. They are the transformations of those who committed wrongdoings in their lives."

"What if I commit no serious wrongdoing during my lifetime?" I asked.

"Orchid, the judgment of the underworld is for all women. That is why we need religion. Buddhism helps us repent the crimes we commit simply by being women and living a material life. We need to forgo all earthly pleasure and pray for Heaven's forgiveness. We must do everything we can to acc.u.mulate virtue. Only then may we have a chance of escaping the Pool of Filthy Blood."

Sixteen.

ON HIS FIRST BIRTHDAY my son would be presented with a tray filled with a variety of items. He was expected to pick one that would give the Imperial family a clue to his future character. This was called Chua-tsui-p'an, Chua-tsui-p'an, Catch the Future in a Pan. Important court members were invited to observe. Catch the Future in a Pan. Important court members were invited to observe.

Tung Chih's eunuchs had been busy all week in preparation for the event. The walls, columns, doors and window frames of my palace were freshly painted in vermilion. The beams and bracket sets were accented with blue, green and gold. Against the bright northern sky, the yellow tile roof glistened like a gigantic golden crown. The white marble terraces vibrated with their exuberant carvings.

The ceremony opened in the Hall of Bodily Mercy, in the east corner of the palace, where an altar had been set up. Above the altar was a broadside explaining the ritual. In the center of the hall sat a large square redwood table. On top of the table stood a tray the size of a mature lotus leaf, larger than a child's tub. On the tray lay symbolic items: an Imperial seal, a book of Confucius's On Autumn and Spring, On Autumn and Spring, a brush pen made of goat hair, a gold ingot, a silver ingot, a riddle, a decorative sword, a miniature liquor bottle, a golden key, ivory dice, a silver cigarette box, a musical clock, a leather whip, a blue ceramic bowl painted with landscapes, an antique fan with a poem written by a famous Ming poet, a green jade hairpin crafted with b.u.t.terflies, an earring in the shape of a paG.o.da and a pink peony. a brush pen made of goat hair, a gold ingot, a silver ingot, a riddle, a decorative sword, a miniature liquor bottle, a golden key, ivory dice, a silver cigarette box, a musical clock, a leather whip, a blue ceramic bowl painted with landscapes, an antique fan with a poem written by a famous Ming poet, a green jade hairpin crafted with b.u.t.terflies, an earring in the shape of a paG.o.da and a pink peony.

My son had been taken from me in the morning. This was to a.s.sure that he would act of his own free will. For the past few weeks I had tried hard to guide him to the "right choices." I showed him a map of China, colorful landscape paintings, and of course the object he was supposed to pick, the Imperial seal-a fake one for the practice runs of course. An-te-hai had made it from a block of wood. I stamped the "seal" on different boards to attract Tung Chih's attention. But he was more interested in the pins in my hair.

The guests sat quietly in the hall and waited for Tung Chih to perform. In front of hundreds of people, I got down on my knees by the altar and lit incense.

Emperor Hsien Feng and Nuharoo sat in the center chairs. We prayed as the incense smoke began to fill the room. Tea and nuts were served. When the sun hit the beams of the hall, Tung Chih was carried in by two eunuchs. He was dressed in a golden robe embroidered with dragons. He looked around with big eyes. The eunuchs placed him on the table. He bounced up and down and was unable to sit still. The eunuchs somehow got him to bow to his father, his mothers and the portraits of his ancestors.

I felt terribly weak and alone, and wished that my mother or Rong were here. This ritual hadn't been taken seriously in the past, when people had come simply to coo and giggle over a baby. But these days astrologers ruled-the Manchu royals were no longer sure of themselves. Everything was up to "Heaven's will."

What if Tung Chih picked up a flower or a hairpin instead of the Imperial seal? Would people say that my son was going to be a dandy? What about the clock? Wouldn't he be drawn to its tinkly sound?

Tung Chih's bib was wet from drool. When the eunuchs let him go free, he crawled toward the tray. He was so bundled up that his movements were clumsy. Leaning forward, everyone watched with anxiety. I sensed Nuharoo's glance in my direction and tried to appear confident. I had caught a cold the night before and my head ached. I had been drinking gla.s.s after gla.s.s of water to calm myself down.

Tung Chih stopped crawling and reached out to the tray. It felt like I was the one on the table. Suddenly I desperately needed to go to the chamber pot.

I hurried out of the hall and brushed aside the maids before they could follow me. Sitting on the chamber pot, I took several deep breaths. The pain on the right side of my head had spread to the left side. I got off the pot and rinsed my hands and face with cold water. When I reentered the hall, I saw Tung Chih chewing on his bib.

The crowd was still patiently waiting. Their expectations devastated me. It was wrong to make an infant bear China's burden! It was wrong to make an infant bear China's burden! But I knew that my son would be taken from me for good if I dared to utter such a sentence. But I knew that my son would be taken from me for good if I dared to utter such a sentence.

Tung Chih was about to slide off the table. The eunuchs picked him up and turned him around. A scene came to my mind: hunters had released a deer, only to kill it with their arrows. The message seemed to be: if the deer was not strong enough to escape, it deserved to die.

Emperor Hsien Feng had promised that I would be rewarded if Tung Chih delivered a "good performance." How could I possibly direct him?

The more I read of the broadside above the altar, the more fearful I became.

... If the prince picks the Imperial seal, he will become an emperor graced by all of Heaven's virtue. If he picks the brush pen, the gold, the silver or the sword, he shall rule with intelligence and a forceful will. But if he picks the flower, the earring or the hairpin, he will grow up to be a pleasure seeker. If he chooses the liquor pot, he will be an alcoholic; if the dice, he will gamble away the dynasty ...

Tung Chih "studied" every article but picked up none. The hall was so quiet that I could hear the sound of water running through the garden. My sweat oozed and my collar felt tight.

Tung Chih stuck a finger in his mouth. He must be hungry! He must be hungry! The chance that he would pick up the stone seal was fading. The chance that he would pick up the stone seal was fading.

He resumed his crawling. This time he appeared somehow motivated. The eunuchs put up their hands around the edges of the table to prevent Tung Chih from falling.

Emperor Hsien Feng leaned over in his dragon chair. He held his head with both hands as if it was too heavy, shifting the weight from one elbow to another.

Tung Chih stopped. He fixed his eyes on the pink peony. He smiled, and his hand traveled from his mouth to the flower.

I closed my eyes. I heard Emperor Hsien Feng sigh.

Disappointment? Bitterness?

Tung Chih had turned away from the flower when I reopened my eyes.

Was he remembering the moment I punished him when he picked up the flower? I had spanked him, crying myself. I had put my fingerprints on his little behind and hated myself for it.

My son raised his tiny chin. What was he looking for? Me? Forget-ting my manners, I weaved through the crowd and stopped in front of him. I smiled and used my eyes to draw a line from his nose to the Imperial seal.

The little one acted. In one determined motion, he grabbed the seal.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty!" the crowd cheered.

Crying joyfully, An-te-hai ran to the courtyard.

Rockets shot into the sky. A hundred thousand paper flowers popped open in the air.

Emperor Hsien Feng jumped up from his seat and announced, "According to the historical record, since the beginning of the Ch'ing Dynasty in 1644, only two princes grabbed the Imperial seal. They turned out to be China's most successful emperors, Kang Hsi and Chien Lung. My son, Tung Chih, is likely to be the next one!"

The day after the ceremony, I knelt before a temple altar. Although I was exhausted, I felt that I must not neglect the G.o.ds who had helped me. I made offerings to show my grat.i.tude. An-te-hai brought in a live fish on a golden plate. It had been caught in the lake and was tied with a red ribbon. In a rush I poured wine on the cobblestones because the fish had to be returned to the lake alive.

An-te-hai carefully placed the plate with the fish into a palanquin as if it were a person. At the lake I let go of the fish, and it leaped into the water.

To secure my son's future and increase blessings from all of the G.o.ds, An-te-hai bought ten cages of precious birds for me to release. I granted the birds mercy on Tung Chih's behalf.

Good news greeted me upon my return to the palace. Rong and Prince Ch'un were engaged. My mother was thrilled.

According to Emperor Hsien Feng, his brother had little talent or ambition. In his own introduction to Rong, Prince Ch'un had described himself as a "worshiper of Confucius's teachings," meaning that he pursued the life of a free mind. While he enjoyed the benefits that came with his royal position, he believed that "too much water makes a cup spill," and "too many ornaments make a headdress look cheap."

None of us realized that Prince Ch'un's rhetoric was an umbrella covering flaws in his character. I would soon discover that Ch'un's "modesty" and "self-imposed spiritual exile" came from his laziness.

I again warned Rong to expect no fantasy from an Imperial marriage. "Look at me," I said. "His Majesty's health has declined to the point of no return, and I have been preparing myself for the Imperial widowhood."

I was not alone in my concern for the Emperor's health. Nuharoo shared the same feeling. On her last visit we had come together on friendly terms for the first time. The fear of losing Hsien Feng bound us. She had begun to accept the fact that I had become her equal. Her sense of superiority had softened, and she began to use "would you" instead of "this is Her Majesty's thinking." We both knew from history what could happen to an emperor's wives and concubines after his death. We both realized that we had only each other to depend on.

I had my own reasons for wanting Nuharoo as an ally. I sensed that my son's fate would be in the hands of such ambitious court ministers as Grand Councilor Su Shun. He seemed to have the Emperor's complete trust. It was public knowledge that even Prince Kung feared Su Shun.

Su Shun had been running the state's affairs and conducting audiences in the name of Hsien Feng during His Majesty's illness. More and more, he acted with total independence. Su Shun's power worried me, for I thought him manipulative and cunning. When he visited Emperor Hsien Feng, he rarely discussed state matters. In the name of caring for His Majesty's health, he isolated Hsien Feng and strengthened his own position. According to Prince Ch'un, Su Shun had been carefully constructing his own political base for years through the appointment of friends and a.s.sociates to important positions.

I convinced Nuharoo that we must insist on having important doc.u.ments sent to Emperor Hsien Feng. His Majesty might be too ill to review the doc.u.ments, but we might help him stay informed. At least we would not be kept in the dark and could make sure that Su Shun was not abusing his power.

Nuharoo didn't want to bother. "A wise lady ought to spend her life appreciating the beauty of nature, preserving her yin element and pursuing her longevity."

But my instinct told me that if we refused to take part in the government, we could lose whatever control we had.

Nuharoo agreed that I had a point, but didn't fully embrace my plan. Nonetheless, I spoke to His Majesty that evening, and the next day a decree was issued: all doc.u.ments were to be sent to Emperor Hsien Feng's office first.

It didn't surprise me that Su Shun ignored the decree. He ordered the messengers who carried the doc.u.ments to "follow the original route." Again his excuse was the Emperor's health. My suspicion and distrust deepened.

"I feel myself aging over your struggle to control Su Shun's ambi-tion," Nuharoo said. She asked me to spare her the exertion. "Do whatever you want with Su Shun as long as you respect the fact that 'the sun rises in the east and sets in the west,'" she said, referring to the two of us.

It amazed me that Nuharoo would think of this as important. I gave her my word.

Immediately she relaxed. "Why don't you take charge and update me once in a while?" she said. "I hate to sit in the same room with men whose breath stinks."

At first I suspected that Nuharoo was testing my loyalty. But in time she made me realize that I was doing her a favor. She was the kind who would lose sleep over the smallest flaw in her embroidery, but not if we lost an important term in a treaty.

The sunlight on Nuharoo's bone-thin shoulders carved a beautiful contour. She never failed to prepare herself for His Majesty's possible appearance. Her makeup must have taken half a day to complete. Black paste made of scented flower petals was used to accent her eyelashes. Her eyes looked like two deep wells. She painted her lips a different color every day. Today was pink with a touch of vermilion. Yesterday had been rose, and the day before purple. She expected to be complimented, and I learned that it was important to our relationship that I do so.

"I'd hate to see you age, Yehonala." Nuharoo held up all of her fingers. The two-inch-long nails were painted gold and silver with delicate details from nature. "Take my advice and have your chef prepare tang kuei tang kuei soup daily. Put dry silkworm and black dates in it. The taste will be awful, but you'll get used to it." soup daily. Put dry silkworm and black dates in it. The taste will be awful, but you'll get used to it."

"We need to talk about Su Shun and his cabinet, Nuharoo," I said. "I get nervous about things I don't know."

"Oh, you will never know it all. It's a hundred-year-old mess." She blocked my eyes with her "finger spears." "I'll send my nail lady to your palace if you don't get it done yourself."

"I am not used to long nails," I said. "They break too easily."

"Am I the head of the Imperial household?" She frowned.

I sealed my lips, reminding myself of the importance of keeping harmony between us.

"Long nails are symbols of n.o.bility, Lady Yehonala."

I nodded, although my mind had gone back to Su Shun.

Nuharoo's smile returned. "Like a Chinese lady who binds her feet, who doesn't live to do labor but to be carried around in palanquins. The longer our nails, the further we depart from the ordinary. Please stop bragging about working in the garden with your hands. You embarra.s.s 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 ent.i.tle 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 st.i.tch 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."