by Zoey Gong
“But, you are leaving,” Suyin says. “Leaving us? Leaving the girls?”
“I can’t take you with me, but I will be back, I promise.”
“Where are you going?”
I want to tell her my plan, but should she be interrogated, I don’t want to get her in trouble. “The less you know, the better,” I say. I sling the bag with my crown over my back. “But I am going to stop this war myself.”
“What? How?”
“I can’t tell you,” I say. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“My lady…” Suyin follows me back to the courtyard, her eyes wet with tears. “Let me go with you!”
“No. I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“But if it is dangerous, why are you going?”
“Because I am the only one who can,” I say. I turn back to her and squeeze her arm. I then give her a hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me.”
Suyin holds me tightly, as though she would force me to stay, but I remove her arms from around me and back out of the courtyard. I know she is watching me as I run away, but I don’t look back. If I stop for even a moment, I might lose my courage.
The guards open the front gate for me immediately. They probably assume I am going to visit the people and hand out helpful items like I have been doing every day for the last week. But that is not my purpose this time.
Once I am outside, I look around for a horse and see Honghui’s magnificent beast tied up to a post. It is still saddled and reined. I walk over and put my foot in the stirrup and try to haul myself up. It’s much more difficult to do on my own than I expected and nearly fall backward onto my rear end.
“Your majesty?” A guard has approached me curiously. “What are you doing?”
“There is something I need to do,” I say. “An urgent assignment from the emperor.”
The guard’s eyes go wide. “Of course, your majesty.”
“Help me onto this horse.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “Do you know how to ride? You could injure yourself.”
“I’m sure I will,” I say. “But I don’t have a choice. Now, help me.”
He nods and practically picks me up himself, tossing me onto the saddle. I lean too far to my right and nearly fall off. I catch myself, but nearly fall off the horse the other way instead. It takes a bit of wiggling back and forth to find my balance. This was much easier when I had Honghui to grip onto.
The guard unlashes the horse from the post and hands me the reins. “Hold tightly,” he says. “Go slow so you don’t fall off. Lightly tug the reins in the direction you want to go and the horse will obey.”
“Thank you,” I say. “One day, I will reward you for your assistance.” He steps back as I turn the horse around toward the road. I only hope I am able to make good on my words to the guard.
The horse walks slowly to the road, and I find it challenging to stay in the saddle. Hopefully I will be able to go faster eventually, but for the moment, I need to concentrate on staying upright.
“May her majesty live ten-thousand years!” someone calls out. I look up and see people smiling, waving, and bowing at me.
“Heaven bless you, my lady!”
“We love you, your majesty!”
My heart swells with the warmth coming from the crowd, and it gives me strength. I wave to the people as I nudge the horse to move a little faster. For several minutes, the cheering from the crowd grows louder, even though I am moving further away from them, before it finally starts to become more distant.
I realize that Honghui, and maybe even the emperor, will hear that I have left very soon. Honghui will probably send someone to take me back, if he doesn’t come after me himself. I urge the horse a little faster, and then a little faster.
Soon, I’m gliding down the open road toward Peking. Toward the Forbidden City. Toward the invading barbarians. There is no going back.
22
It takes me two days to reach the city, only stopping to water the horse when I happen upon a creek. Each one of my bones feels taken apart and put back together again. I had no idea how difficult and painful it was to ride a horse at more than a walking pace for such a long period of time. I don’t know how soldiers do it.
The city is not in as much chaos as I expected, but neither is the city in its normal state. Smoke rises into the air from smoldering ashes, ashes that used to be homes. The roadways are crowded with people, but no one seems to be going anywhere. They seem lost, unsure of what to do.
There are foreign soldiers everywhere, and they are all carrying guns. Groups of them are at every corner, and they are stationed every few feet along the roads. The people are giving them a wide berth, but they watch the soldiers warily, whispering to one another as their eyes bounce from soldier to soldier. I do my best not to stare at them, but it is difficult since I have never seen people like them before, other than that brief moment when they broke into the inner court. Their skin ranges in color from pale peach to ruddy, as if the skin is burnt. Most of them, but not all, have facial hair, and their straw- and brown-colored hair sticks out from under their folded, black hats. They wear red and white uniforms that are turning brown from the dust. They don’t appear to be wearing any armor.
As I approach the Forbidden City, the soldiers grow thicker. I’m still quite a distance away from the palace when they form a long, tight line, preventing anyone from getting any closer. As I approach, one raises his hand and grips my horse’s reins. He says something to me in a language I don’t understand and I realize a significant flaw in my plan: I don’t speak their language.
I shake my head to tell him I don’t understand. He repeats his words more slowly, but that doesn’t help and I shake my head again. He scoffs and tugs on the horse’s reins, turning him away from the palace. He then waves his hand to shoo me away. I turn the horse back around and point to the large red wall.
The soldier waves his hands. “No, no, no,” he says. I can at least grasp his meaning. I can understand why they don’t want to let anyone inside, but I need to find a way to tell them who I am. Someone here must understand my language. Otherwise, how were they negotiating with Guozhi? I don’t want to show my crown to just any random soldier. They probably won’t understand me, and they might steal it. Even the most ignorant person would be able to see it is of high value.
I put my hand on my chest and then point to the Forbidden City, trying to tell the soldier that I live there. If he can understand that much, maybe he will make more of an effort to communicate to try and find out who I am. He turns to the man next to him and they speak for a moment. The other one shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head. I assume he either doesn’t understand or doesn’t know what to do. The first man looks at me and again shoos me away. When I try to nudge the horse forward, he raises his gun at me. My heart seizes for a moment.
I hadn’t considered that I could be putting my life in danger. I don’t know why, but I thought that proving who I was would be a simple affair, and then I would be treated respectfully while Guozhi signed the treaty for my release. The chance that I might be shot on the street before even reaching the palace never occurred to me.
I wheel my horse around and trot away from the line of soldiers while I try to think about what to do. I lead the horse around the palace and see that there is not a single break in the line of men. I sigh as I realize what I have to do. I have to get inside. I only hope I don’t get killed in the endeavor. At the east gate, I lead the horse a little ways from the soldiers. Then, I turn the horse about, kick him in the sides, and order him to charge forward.
The men ahead of me have very little time to react. I can see their eyes go wide when they realize the warhorse is running straight for them. Some of the men shout and wave their arms, as if a simple warning will be enough to stop me, but I let out a yell of my own, urging the horse to keep going. Several men move out of the way, but the one right ahead of me pulls the gun off his shoulder, taking aim stra
ight ahead. I bend forward, hiding myself behind the horse’s head and neck.
There is a crack, a yell, screams. The horse stumbles forward and I am thrown forward into the air. For a moment, it feels like I am flying. But then I am falling. I crash into the rough, brown earth so hard, the wind goes out of me and my vision goes black. I roll across the ground more times than I can count before coming to a stop on my stomach.
If I thought I was in pain before, it is nothing compared to the pain I am in now. I am unable to move, my whole body feeling crushed. But there is a strong, sharp pain shooting through my left arm. I cry out and dare to open my eyes. I can’t see my arm, but I do see my horse. Honghui’s horse. The poor creature is lying on the ground, a large, red wound right in the center of his chest oozing blood onto the ground. His eyes are open, but it is clear he is already dead. I hope he didn’t suffer.
I’m soon surrounded by soldiers, each holding a cocked rifle aimed at me. Two men grab my arms and drag me to standing. I scream in pain. It feels as if my left arm is being ripped from my body. I look down and am horrified to see white bone protruding from the skin. I try to scream again, but I vomit instead, the men directly in front of me jumping out of the way.
One of the men shouts something and points toward the gate. I am carried inside, my feet dragging behind me. I’m nauseous and disoriented, so I am unsure which building they take me to, but I am soon lying on a flat table. I look up at the red and gold ceiling and the beams seem to be spinning, making me dizzy and more nauseous.
A soldier comes to my side and he opens a bag, a look of worry on his face. He says something to me, but I can’t understand him and try to shake my head, but I groan as it feels like my brain is going to explode. He holds a finger in front of my face and moves it right to left. I follow it, but it makes me more woozy and I lean to the right to vomit again. The man doesn’t seem bothered and pulls out a handkerchief, dabbing my mouth. It is then that I realize the man must be a doctor. He continues speaking to me in a calm, soothing voice. I don’t understand the words, but the sound helps put me at ease. He reaches over and touches my left arm. I wince and tears fall from my eyes. He shakes his head and moves around me.
When he is no longer in my line of sight, I see two men across the room holding my bag. I’d completely forgotten about it. I try to raise my right arm toward it. The men notice and walk toward me.
“Mine. Mine,” I say, even though I am sure they don’t understand me. But to my surprise, they repeat my words. I nod. “Mine. Mine.”
They pull the phoenix crown out of the bag. I can see that it has been bent and broken, and some of the jewels and enameled pieces have broken off. However, it is not destroyed to the point that they don’t understand its significance, their eyes going wide as they look at me with wonder on their faces.
I feel the doctor poking and prodding me. I must have wounds in other places because I feel him pour a fiery liquid on different parts of my body. I cry out, but I don’t take my eyes off my crown or the men holding it.
“Mine. Mine,” I repeat like a mantra. The men speak to each other for a few moments. One shakes his head. The other then speaks more forcefully. They seem to be arguing.
“Empress!” I cry out. “I am the empress!”
The men go quiet. One rubs his jaw while the other gapes. I’m not sure if it because they are surprised that I am able to yell at them or because they understand me. One of them repeats the word “empress” in my own language.
“Yes, yes,” I say, nodding. “Empress.”
The men then speak to one another, and I hear them say “empress” a couple more times. Then one of them says “emperor” in my language, followed by “empress.”
“Yes!” I say again. “Emperor. Empress. I am the empress!”
Finally, I see understanding cross their faces. They must at least have learned the Chinese word for emperor, so they are able to make the connection between the words “emperor” and “empress.”
The men then speak to each other emphatically, not angry, but excited. Two more men join them, and they all talk and argue together. Finally, one of the men leaves, and I can only hope he is going to find someone with authority, and maybe even someone who understands both our languages and can tell them who I am. I allow myself to relax just a bit, but that seems to amplify the pain in my body.
I look back up to the ceiling. The spinning has lessened a bit, but the pain seems to be growing more by the second. Tears escape my eyes and run into my ears. I was so stupid. It’s incredible that I’m not dead. I should be dead. Either from being shot before I even reached the line of soldiers, from falling off the horse, or from being shot after I hit the ground. These men, this doctor, have no reason to help me. They could have tossed me back into the street and left me to die. I could still die. I don’t know how bad my injuries are, and they could be life-threatening.
The doctor appears at my right side again, going through his bag. I reach out and touch his wrist.
“Thank you,” I manage to say through my tears. I don’t know if he understands my words, but I am sure he understands the sentiment. He smiles and nods. He places one of his warm hands on top of mine. He says something soothing, even though I don’t understand the words. He then clears his throat and speaks more seriously. I think he is trying to tell me what is happening, but, of course, I don’t understand. Still, I appreciate the attempt.
The doctor moves to my head, turning it to face the right. He then moves to my left side and I feel him moving my arm. I think he doesn’t want me to see what is happening, and my heart begins to race. I start to panic and can hardly breathe. The pain is intense, but my fear is stronger. Is he going to cut my arm off?
There is a sudden movement. A sickening crack! The pain seems to shoot from my arm to my heart. I scream and everything goes black.
23
It is difficult to open my eyes. When I do, there is not much to see. The room is dim, lit only by a single brazier. I try to lift my left arm to rub my forehead and wince as pain grips me. I look down and see that my arm is lying across my stomach, completely wrapped in white gauze. It feels like a piece of metal is tied to the underside of it. There is a sling around my neck, holding my arm steady.
I then remember the white bone sticking through my skin and shudder. I delicately slide the fingers of my right hand along my left arm. It doesn’t feel like anything is sticking out anymore. The doctor must have fixed it somehow.
I try to sit up, but my head starts to spin, so I lie back down on my side. My mouth is parched and my throat is scratchy. I hear a noise and see a foreign man stand up from a chair on the other side of the room. I hadn’t noticed him before. He is holding a gun as he walks toward me. I shrink back away from him. He says something in his own language before leaving through a door.
I push myself up, but it takes a great effort. Sitting up makes me sick, but I close my eyes and breathe through it, not allowing myself to throw up. The effort exhausts me all over again, so I lean against the wall and wait for the will to move to return.
I hear the door open again and someone walks into the room. When I open my eyes, I gasp, seeing someone I never expected.
“Huiyin?”
Huiyin, the older concubine who had befriended me after I became empress, is standing in front of me, looking far more regal than before. She is standing straight, her hands folded in front of her, her head held high. I realize that she is wearing one of my robes, one of my headdresses, and I am guessing one of my exceptionally tall pairs of pot-bottom shoes. I am so shocked that I don’t even notice the foreigner standing beside her until he clears his throat.
The man is quite tall as well, taller than Huiyin despite her shoes. He wears a red and white uniform similar to the others that I have seen, but it seems to be of better quality. He also wears a red sash and his left chest is covered with many small medals. The biggest difference, though, is that his hair is totally white under his folded, black hat. I could
not guess his age, but with hair like that, I think he must be very old.
“I suppose you thought I was dead,” Huiyin finally says.
I shake my head. “I didn’t know what had happened to you. Why didn’t you escape with the rest of us?”
“I didn’t realize you had gone!” she says, her voice rising. “You left me! I hid, like you told us to, but no one came to tell me that we were to leave.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I say, but my voice is cracked and horse. I rub my throat and try to clear it. The man says something to Huiyin and she brings me a cup of water from a table across the room.
“Thank you,” I say after I drink the whole cup without taking a breath. Huiyin says nothing, but I can see that she is still cross with me. “I’m sorry,” I try again. “I told the eunuchs to gather everyone together. I waited as long as I could. I thought you were among us. I’m sorry.”
“It is no matter,” Huiyin says. “General Pake has been very good to me.” Her voice even and her words curt. I feel terrible that she was left behind, and I hope I can make her believe me, but I have to focus on the reason I came here first.
I look at the man next to her. So, this is the general. Most likely, he is the man I have come to see. I give the man a nod of acknowledgment. The man then says something to Huiyin and she nods.
“How do you speak their language?” I ask Huiyin.
“I’ve been here for weeks,” she says. “I had to find some way to communicate. It’s not difficult if you put your mind to it. Besides, one of their men speaks Chinese, and he helped me.”
I nod. So that is how the foreigners communicated with Guozhi in the past. Huiyin says something to the general, and they converse back and forth for a moment.
“He knows that you are Empress Lihua,” Huiyin says. “The men realized you were someone special when they found the phoenix crown in your bag. Of course, he had wondered if you were merely a thief, but I confirmed to him that I recognized you.”
