by Zoey Gong
“What?” he asks, his face blanching. “You would have us starve?”
“We will not starve if we do not eat for one day,” I say. “We have been getting regular food deliveries, have we not?”
“Yes, your majesty. We were able to source food from local farmers to provide for us.”
“There you have it, then,” I say. “Give what we have to the people. We will worry about the rest later.”
“Yes, your majesty,” he says before running off.
“Jinhai,” I say, “tell the guards to stop shooting. Make an announcement to the people that relief is coming.”
“I will see what I can do,” he says. I watch him leave and then pace, wringing my hands as I wait for the commotion to die down. Instead, though, the commotion seems to grow louder. At least the gunshots stop.
I see Jinhai coming back toward me. “What is happening?” I ask him.
“The people do not believe relief is coming,” he says. “They have been begging for help for days.”
“Days?” I exclaim. “Why was I not told?”
“Well…umm…this is not something that would normally be brought to your attention.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. This is the first time that the emperor, the prince, and all of the emperor’s advisors have been out of the palace at the same time. Since there is no man to report to, I suppose the eunuchs have just been sitting on the information. I try not to blame them since this is so unprecedented, but I am still annoyed.
“Where is the food? They will believe you if they see it.”
“It is being gathered now,” he says. “But it will not go far. I fear that those closest to the gate will take the majority of it.”
I close my eyes and pace. I fear he might be right. As soon as the people see bags of food, they will rush the servants and take whatever they can. Hunger can make the most generous man a selfish beast.
“Fine,” I say. “Divide the food into small batches. Tie small amounts up in bags and that is what we will hand out.”
“It will take time,” he says.
“Then get busy,” I tell him. “Bring a basket of parcels to me as soon as you can.” He bows and rushes away. I return to my own palace and call Suyin to me.
“I told you not to bring my phoenix crown with us,” I tell her. “Did you obey that order?”
Her face blushes and she looks down. “I…I’m sorry—”
“Do you have it?” I press, not wanting apologies. “Is it here?”
“Yes, my lady. I just couldn’t leave it behind. I hid it in the bottom of the case with your robes.”
“Bless you,” I say, relieved.
“Majesty?”
“Help me dress, quickly.”
She bows and we go to my room. Yanmei must unlock the door for me.
“What is happening?” she asks.
“It is the people, the refugees from the city. They are starving and begging for aid.”
“That’s terrible,” she says. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Feed them,” I say, “from our own stores.”
“But-but-but, what are we to eat?” she asks.
“I will worry about that later,” I say as Suyin wraps a yellow robe around me and ties it closed. I sit on a stool as she affixes the phoenix crown to the top of my head.
“What are you doing?” Yanmei asks.
“I am taking the food to them myself.”
“No!” Yanmei and Suyin both say at the same time.
“It’s too dangerous,” Suyin says.
“Doing nothing is too dangerous,” I say. “The people think that the emperor doesn’t care about them. That he will let them starve. If we do nothing, they will surely pull the walls down around us. Give me some of the bags of cash we brought.”
Suyin goes to my kang bed and pulls a small bag out. Then she goes to a trunk and pulls out another one.
“They will rob and kill you!” Yanmei says, and Dongmei and Jingfei start to cry.
“No, they won’t,” I say. I remember being so poor that we had almost no food to eat. I remember being resentful of the Manchu for keeping so much food for themselves. How they had so much money, they could live in a palace while we shivered together in huts. I remember what I told Prince Honghui when I collected my own money as a consort to give to the poor. Even a small amount of relief can make all the difference when a person has nothing.
“I will return soon,” I tell Yanmei. Suyin helps me walk in pot-bottom shoes for the first time in what feels like weeks. I could go out in a maid’s outfit, or even that of a concubine. I could choose to not go out at all. But I want the people to know that I do care about them. That the Manchu care. That the emperor cares. What good will it do to defeat the foreigners only to have a revolt here at home? I hope that by seeing me, their empress, the people will know that they have been heard and that I will help them.
As I make my way back to the main gate, the empress dowager tries to stop me.
“What do you think you are doing?” she demands.
“Exactly what you probably have already heard or you would not be here,” I say. “I am taking relief to the poor people outside our walls.”
“No!” she says. “This is completely undignified. An empress should never mingle among the common folk. It is disgusting. I forbid it.”
I laugh. “You know you cannot stop me.”
“I will tell my son about this as soon as he returns,” she says. “He will not be pleased. He will be horrified.”
“Then he can tell me that himself when he returns.”
Two eunuchs come toward me with a large basket. Inside are small burlap bundles tied with what looks like pond reeds. They must not have had enough string to tie them and made do.
“You are debasing the crown,” Fenfeng goes on. “Demeaning the emperor! You must stop this.”
“Each bundle has a handful of rice, then we put vegetables or a bit of meat in each one,” one of the eunuchs tells me, all of us ignoring Fenfeng’s protests. “It’s not much…”
“It will be better than what they have now,” I say. “Come.”
“You will regret this, Lihua!” Fenfeng calls after me. “You will no longer be empress when the emperor hears of it.”
“I hope that is a promise,” I say, turning my back to her and walking to the gate. If the emperor strips me of my position and title for giving food to the poor, I will know I did the right thing.
The large gate is opened for me and I step outside. The guards are still holding the people back, but they are struggling. Still, some people are able to see through them at me.
“It’s the empress!” someone says.
“Manchu pig!” another person yells.
“May the empress live ten-thousand years!”
“Down with the Manchu!”
Some people drop down and kowtow, others shake their fits at me. For a moment, I do wonder if I have made a mistake in coming outside myself. I have put myself in great danger. I cannot stop now, though. I take one of the parcels from the basket and put it into one of the hands grasping between the guards. The person stands back, confused. He squeezes the bag.
“Rice?” he asks.
“And more,” I tell him.
“Food!” he yells. “The empress has food!”
The people then begin screaming and pushing forward even harder, crushing toward the guards in front of me. Dozens of dirty hands reach for me, clawing.
“We should retreat, your majesty!” Jinhai says, tugging on my shoulder. But I shrug him away and take no heed. I reach into the basket, pulling out parcels one after another, putting them into as many hands as possible.
“Help me!” I tell Jinhai. He hesitates, but then he pulls a parcel out of the basket and hands it to the nearest person to him.
“Thank you, your majesty,” someone says.
“Bless you, my lady,” another says.
“May the empress live ten-thousand ye
ars!” I hear several voices cry out. Slowly, the crowd puts less pressure on the guards. Soon, though, the basket is empty and there are many groans of disappointment.
“More is coming,” I tell them. “Please be patient.” I reach into my sleeve and pull out a gold coin. I press it into one of the still grasping hands. I hear a startled gasp.
“Her Majesty is truly generous!”
I know it isn’t food, but I am hoping the people can use it with the nearby farmers and in local towns to buy what they need. I give out a few more coins before Fiyanggu comes out of the gate, followed by eunuchs with two baskets of wrapped food.
“Help me,” I tell him. He and the other eunuchs pick up bags and hand them to the waiting people. The process is slow, and out of the hundreds, if not thousands of people who have gathered, we cannot reach very many of them. I tug on the shirt of one of the guards. “Move.”
He steps aside hesitatingly and I move into the crowd, handing out parcels and coins to all those I can reach. As people take things from me, they hold my hand as long as possible. Some people cry. Some people give thanks. Some people kiss my hands. Some people say nothing as they turn away with their prize. I smile at each one of them as I work, expecting nothing in return except for the rioting to stop.
Finally, I reach into the basket for another parcel but find it empty. I look up at Jinhai, who shakes his head and holds his hands out helplessly.
“That’s all there is,” Fiyanggu confirms.
I gulp. I hadn’t considered what I would do when the food ran out, which it was sure to do eventually.
“I’m sorry,” I say to the people around me. “There’s none left.”
A groan of disappointment washes through the crowd. Some people cry. Some stomp away in anger. Some yell obscenities and shake their fists at me. But, to my surprise, the vast majority of people drop to their knees and kowtow to me.
“May the empress live ten-thousand years!” they repeat, almost like a chant.
The fear I felt a moment ago melts away and I am filled with a sense of calm. My own eyes fill with tears, but I cannot stop smiling.
“We love you, empress!”
“May Heaven bless you!”
I have spent the last year wondering why I was here. Why I had been selected. Why Heaven would allow a Han woman to be chosen as empress. Maybe this is the reason why. Who better to understand the needs of the people than someone who is one of them? Perhaps none of this has happened by chance, but was my destiny.
“We should go back inside,” Jinhai whispers to me, tugging on my arm. “Leave while you have their goodwill.”
I nod and let him lead me out of the crowd back toward the palace. “I will try to bring more food tomorrow,” I tell them. “Please know that I am doing my best to help you while my husband, the emperor, may he live ten-thousand years, defends us from the foreign threat.”
The crowd cheers and sings my praise as I retreat into the palace and the great gates are shut behind me. I slump down onto the first bench I see, my energy suddenly fleeing.
“Do you think it will make a difference?” I ask Jinhai. “Will the people stop revolting, at least for now?”
He looks back toward the gate and we listen as the crowd continues to cheer.
“I think it made all the difference, my lady.”
“There is still much to do,” I say. “We must find more food. I need to tell the ladies what is happening.” I try to stand, but he places a hand on my shoulder to stop me.
“Rest, your majesty,” he says. “Fiyanggu and I will sort everything out. You have done enough.”
I shake my head. “Not nearly enough.” But I don’t try to stand. I’m not sure I could if I wanted to, my legs feel so weak. Jinhai gives me a smile and nod and backs away.
I take a few breaths and hear the cheering start to die down. But shouts of anger do not take their place. I can only hope that they are dispersing for the night, making use of what I was able to give them. I have no idea if we will actually have more food to give them tomorrow or not. It is impossible to know what each day will bring. But I was able to help the people now, and buy us another day. I must be content with that for the moment.
20
Every day, several servants go out into the local villages, markets, and countryside and scout for food. Whatever they bring back, we divide it into half, saving one half for those of us in the Winter Palace, and dividing the rest into small parcels for the people outside. The Winter Palace is currently home to hundreds of people when accounting for all the servants. They need food just as much as the people outside, so I cannot allow them to go hungry. Still, the food is hardly enough, and I fear that the crowd outside the Winter Palace, which seems to grow every day, will not be satisfied with the little I am able to give. There have been no more riots, but there is a tension in the air that seems to grow day by day. I do not know how long it will be before the people finally snap.
Even though it is hard work, and the dowager still forbids me from doing it, and I am sure the emperor will be displeased when he finds out, I enjoy my time with the people each day. The people who come to me for food are less harried than they were that first day, so I am able to at least share a smile or kind word with each person I meet. They thank me, hold my hands, and kowtow before me. I try to be gracious, but the praise makes me uncomfortable.
I wish so much that I could tell them who I am. Not a Manchu lady made empress, but one of them. A Han Chinese. A poor person from the hutongs. A person who knows their struggles. But I cannot tell them. At least being with them—with people who are like the real me—gives me a sense of peace. I feel as if, just for a little while, I can let my guard down.
I am outside with the people when we hear the thunder of horse hooves. The guards clear the road as I see the emperor’s men returning.
“Hurry, inside, your majesty!” Jinhai tells me. I drop what I am doing and rush inside with him ahead of the cavalcade. There will be no way to hide from the emperor what I have been doing, but I can at least not be caught outside the palace walls. All of us kneel in the courtyard and wait for the emperor to appear. Most of the ladies come out of their palaces and kneel as well.
The men rush inside and pass us without even acknowledging me. Honghui comes through, barking orders. I am about to stand up and ask him what is going on when I see two men carrying a stretcher. My heart seizes in my chest when I see that they are carrying Guozhi, who is clearly severely injured. His face is pale and his eyes are closed, his arm hanging limply to one side. The women all jump to their feet and start screaming and crying. Honghui, angered by the commotion, finally faces us.
“Go back to your palaces, all of you!” he yells.
The women quickly disperse, many leaning on the arms of their maids and eunuchs. More than one of them fainted. But I will deal with all that later. I go to Honghui and his expression softens.
“What has happened?” I ask, clutching the front of my robe, afraid to hear the answer.
“We are at all-out war,” he tells me. “There is no hope for a treaty now.”
All the air rushes out of me, and I lean on Jinhai for support. “Guozhi, the emperor, is he…?” I cannot even ask the words.
“No…not yet,” he says.
“Not…yet?” I repeat. Honghui wraps an arm around my shoulders and leads me into the emperor’s palace.
“Not yet,” he confirms. “But he is badly injured. I fear…” He shakes his head. He cannot speak his true fear out loud, and I have no wish to hear it.
Guozhi has already been laid out on his kang bed as the eunuchs fuss around him, removing his clothes, washing him, helping to make him comfortable. I push forward through the crowd and kneel by the bed, taking Guozhi’s hand in mine. It is cold. I see that his abdomen is wrapped in what was once white, cloth strips that are now nearly completely red. I fear that he is already dead.
“Husband,” I say. “Your Majesty, can you hear me?”
Slowly,
and with great effort, his eyes flutter open. He turns his head toward me. He opens his mouth to speak, but only a croaking sound comes out.
“He needs water!” I yell.
Guozhi lifts his hand, just touching my cheek with his fingertips, and then he loses consciousness.
“Your majesty!” I cry out, shaking his arm. “Your majesty!”
“Lihua…” I feel Honghui’s hands on my shoulders as he tugs me away. There is the stomping of feet and I see several soldiers enter the room with the doctor, the same doctor who cut Empress Caihong open to deliver her stillborn son. The soldiers must have brought him from Peking with them.
“Clear out, clear out!” the doctor says. “Let me work. He needs air. Everyone out.” He points to two eunuchs to stay and help him, sending them for water and clean bandages. Most of the soldiers leave, except for one who appears to be of high rank. He probably wants to make sure that the doctor does his best to save the emperor.
Honghui pulls on me again, leading me from the room. Once we are in the courtyard, I sink onto a stone bench. Honghui sits on a stool near me.
The courtyard fills with people again and I see the empress dowager bustle past, surrounded by her entourage of servants and ladies. I stand up to stop them, but Honghui holds me back and shakes his head. I stay where I am while he goes inside. I suppose he will know better how to deal with his mother at this time.
I hear a scream and a cry. A moment later, the dowager, looking pale and frail, is practically being carried out of Guizhou’s room by several strong eunuchs. She holds a handkerchief to her face, which looks several years older than it did the day before. I feel a surprising pang of pity for the woman. Cruel and cold as she is, it must be terrible for her to see her child laid out like that.
I stand and then kneel as Fenfeng is carried past me, doing my best to appear respectful. This is not a time for us to fight. I have no idea if she even saw me since she says nothing to me as she and her people all leave the courtyard.
I stand and see Honghui come out of Guozhi’s room and walk toward me.
“What happened at the battle?” I ask.
