by Poon, Alice;
In the case of Geng and Shang, Kangxi renegedon his promise of leniency. Geng was executed by slicing and Shang was forced to commit suicide in return for having his family spared. Kangxi felt certain that most of his Han subjects despised these two outlaws and would applaud his decision. They did.
After four years of gruesome fighting, the Qing forces finally managed to shift from the defensive to the offensive and moved to recover many towns. Kangxi could now concentrate his forces on Wu Sangui. Before long, Wu saw that his venture was nearing total ruin, but rather than admit to defeat, he instead declared himself emperor of the newly-established Great Zhou dynasty in Hengzhou in Hunan Province.
Twenty-eight
With the Feudal Lord situation generally under control, Kangxi could at long last spare a little time to attend to his harem. Since the death of his first Empress, the prestigious post had been left unfilled. Now, after consulting his grandmother, he issued an edict bestowing the title of Empress on Ebilun’s daughter from the Niohuru clan. Bumbutai and Kangxi concurred that there was a need to reinforce this powerful clan’s support for the Emperor. The edict also granted titles to eight Concubines.
Under the edict, Concubine Tunggiya, his first cousin and daughter of his birth mother’s full brother, was the only one granted the title of Noble Consort, while the other seven, including Concubine Hui, were granted the title of Imperial Concubine, which was one rank below the title of Consort. From this edict, it was clear that Noble Consort Tunggiya had a special place in Kangxi’s heart and also had the approval of the Grand Empress Dowager.
As Kangxi matured into a man, he began to realize that infatuation with physical beauty was a fragile sentiment, too shaky a foundation for a lasting bond. His once-flaming love for Concubine Hui dimmed to a mere flicker. But he still sought a spiritual bond with another woman. Unfortunately, he could find no such spark in his relationship with his second Empress and his heart was for a couple of years enveloped in wistful solitude. As destiny dictated, that situation would change when he was reunited with his childhood playmate and first cousin, Hexian from the Tunggiya clan.
One day the previous autumn, Kangxi’s maternal uncle, who was the Minister of Defense, brought his daughter Hexian and her younger brother Longkodo to the Forbidden City to attend a birthday celebration for the Empress Dowager. The three cousins had been playmates from the days when Kangxi was a toddler, although he had not seen these two cousins for several years. When he saw Hexian this day, he almost couldn’t recognize her. The withdrawn caterpillar he had known had morphed into a dazzling butterfly.
The Tunggiya clan had lived among the Hans for many generations in northeast China and generally viewed themselves as Hans. In her childhood, Hexian had been taught Chinese literature and history by her father and Manchu history by her mother, who was from the renowned Manchu Heseri clan. She was thus fully bilingual and well-versed in the Four Books and Five Classics, Chinese poetry and calligraphy.
When the formal birthday banquet was over, Kangxi invited his cousins to his Palace for a reunion chat. Having ordered his eunuch to bring jasmine tea and dishes of sweet meats, he couldn’t wait to show his cousins scrolls of his best calligraphy, each of which featured a different Tang poem.
Longkodo admired the works, while admitting that he had never previously read any of the poems. Hexian quietly looked at the first scroll, and with confidence, announced the poem’s title and the name of the poet who had written it. She did the same with all the remaining scrolls. Kangxi was heartily glad to find that she had such deep knowledge of Chinese poetry. He heaped praise on her, and her face bloomed like a budding pink lotus. Planting his unabashed gaze on her, he was spellbound by her almond eyes, which were dark pools that drew in all the light and reflected it in a starry glint. The inner chords of his heart vibrated with her every smile. He tried hard to appear unaffected and engaged Longkodo in a chat about gyrfalcon hunting. The young lad responded enthusiastically and the two made a pact to go hunting together once the Feudal Lord Wars were over.
While they talked, he couldn’t help now and then sneaking a look at the girl from the corner of his eye. The two young men began teasing each other about their childhood pranks, and she joined in without the slightest sense of reserve. Polite though she was, she didn’t spare them the embarrassment of being reminded how they used to bully her.
They talked until near midnight. As the guests were rising to say farewell, Kangxi faced Hexian and handed her one of the calligraphy scrolls as a souvenir. It was a lyrical poem titled Eternal Pining by Tang poet Bai Juyi.
A few months later, around the lunar New Year, Hexian became Imperial Concubine Tunggiya. Once she entered the Inner Palaces, she quickly gained the favor of the Grand Empress Dowager who found her modest, gracious and cultured. Kangxi felt extremely comfortable around her and the two soon became inseparable soul mates. Thus, it was no surprise that before long she was granted the title of Noble Consort.
In the early spring of the following year, Kangxi’s second Empress became ill. After struggling with the sickness for a month, she gave up and passed over to the other world. She had only carried the Empress title for six months. On Kangxi’s order, Noble Consort Tunggiya took up the leading role in the Inner Palaces with no title change.
During the winter, one of the untitled Concubines, who had previously been a maid-in-waiting, gave birth to Kangxi’s fourth surviving son Yinzhen, who would one day become the Yongzheng Emperor. Complying with Inner Palaces rules and with the birth mother’s consent, Noble Consort Tunggiya, who was then still childless, took the role of foster mother to the infant son, whom she would care for and educate for ten years. At her request, Kangxi granted the birth mother the title of Imperial Concubine De.
By nature a kind and generous soul, Hexian employed tact, wit, diligence and devotion in discharging her duties as the head of the Inner Palaces. She set an example of frugality which pleased Bumbutai very much, as it reminded her of Shunzhi’s Consort Donggo. While taking care of Prince Yinzhen and two of the other Princes, she also looked after the aging Grand Empress Dowager, and oversaw peaceful co-existence among the numerous Concubines. Whenever there was any dispute between two Concubines, she would patiently speak to each and ask: “Why are you doing this? How would you feel if the same were done to you?” And the dispute would somehow fade away.
As much as Kangxi treated her like an Empress in many ways, there were times when Hexian succumbed to bouts of jealousy. As Emperor, Kangxi naturally had unfettered freedom to sow his seed however he pleased in the Inner Palaces. Having exceptional good looks and a kind disposition just made him that much more of a fetish of worship in his harem. There was nothing she could do about the fact that she shared him with a host of other beautiful women. Still, acceptance didn’t mean immunity from hurt.
On one occasion a couple of years into her Palace life, Kangxi’s chief eunuch came to fetch her to the Emperor’s bed chambers. As they passed the main chamber’s latticed doors, she heard a woman’s laughter ringing from inside.
While preparing her for the bed by brushing her hair and clothing her in a white silk robe, the eunuch, noticing her displeasure, explained that his master had summoned both Imperial Concubine Rong and herself for that night. He said the Emperor liked Imperial Concubine Rong because she was fertile, having already borne the Emperor five sons and one daughter, although four of the sons had died in infancy. The eunuch’s words touched a nerve in her and tears swelled in her eyes.
When Imperial Concubine Rong left the bed chambers, the chief eunuch quickly changed the bedding and another eunuch helped the Emperor clean himself in his private bath area. Then he came back to fetch her and ushered her to the bed. As she sat on the edge of the bed waiting for him, she could not stop her tears.
“What’s the matter, Hexian?” he asked gently. “Why are you crying?”
“Your Imperial Highness, please forg
ive me,” she sobbed. “I couldn’t control myself. I was just thinking how nice it would be if you and I were commoners living an ordinary life.”
Her words touched Kangxi profoundly.
“I know. Sometimes I think about that too. We could spend our days in a little house of our own. I would tend to the farm and you would take care of household chores. We could read poetry in our free time, or go riding in the forest… But you know I cannot change my destiny.”
“Your Highness, a dream is only a dream and it’s no good indulging in it. You were destined to do great things. It is your calling to take care of your subjects.”
“No one understands me better than you do, Hexian. Tell me, what is bothering you? Your eyes tell me you’re troubled.”
“It’s just that sometimes… I feel…..jealous….” She lowered her eyes.
“Oh, you mean Concubine Rong?”
“Yes. No… I mean sometimes… You have so many women, I’m not sure if you really care about me.”
“Hexian, of course I care about you! You are so important to me. I could not go on without you. It’s the truth.” He wiped the tears from her face and tenderly caressed her cheeks.
“But the other Concubines must be important to you too?”
“Never as important as you. You and I understand each other well, we can talk all night and you have my complete trust. With the others, the relationship is purely carnal. I cannot talk to them. But I need them to bear me sons, for the sake of the Empire.” He gently swept a few tendrils of her hair away from her face and kissed her on her lips.
“If I cannot produce a son, would you still care for me?”
“My feelings for you are from my heart, unconditional. If you cannot bear me a son, you are free to adopt one from the other Concubines. You and I will have many sons and daughters and many, many grandchildren,” he said, and smiled cheerfully.
“Do you still miss your first Empress?”
He paused and a cloud passed over his face. “Yes, sometimes. But since you came, a lot less. Hexian, I would have made you Empress if not for a curse. I am a jinx… on my Empresses.” He revealed his worst fear with reluctance.”To protect you, I must not confer the title on you.”
“Your Highness, isn’t that a bit superstitious?”
“I knew you would say that. But my two Empresses both died young. I would not be able to stand it if my third Empress ended up the same way. I hope you don’t mind….”
“You know I don’t care about titles,” she said. “All I care is that you will love me always. But I am so grateful for your concern for me.”
For the first time, she saw a vulnerable streak in his eyes and she felt she would be willing to die for him. She certainly couldn’t resist him now. As she snuggled up to him, he put one arm around her waist and used the other hand to pull down the bed curtains.
Wu Sangui had always cherished the dream of becoming an emperor. And in his quest, he had never felt the need for friends. He was a man of energy and even of violence, born to make war, and set little store in friendship. Thus his soldiers fought for him not because they honored him as a man of integrity, but because of his promise of material reward. He understood this well, and thus, in his steady slide towards disaster, clung to the illusion that promises of wealth could somehow work magic. After declaring himself the Great Zhou Emperor, he granted ministerial posts and honorable titles to his generals and high-ranked officials to lure them to stay with him. But the Qing forces prepared to lay siege to the loosely-guarded town of Hengzhou.
A few months later, Wu fell sick from exhaustion and was bedridden. His followers dissipated, but he did not forget that there was still one person who would be faithful to him regardless of what befell him. He had not seen her since their meeting in Anfu Garden several years before. Recalling the promise that he had made her, he struggled out of bed and wrote a letter to his grandson, Wu Shifan, asking him to come to Hengzhou to take up the throne and asked to be buried on Mount Shang in due time, leaving a space in his burial ground for Chen Yuanyuan. In a trembling hand, he also wrote a final letter to his beloved woman, begging her not to take her own life and entrusting to her care his only grandson.
Just days after the two letters were dispatched, Wu Sangui passed away, and his grandson arrived only to attend the funeral in a cursory ceremony taking up the throne of Great Zhou. But the town was on the verge of being recaptured by the Qing Army and Wu Shifan had to flee with the corpse of his grandfather in a coffin back to his redoubt in mountainous Yunnan. He selected a tranquil area on Mount Shang to erect a tombstone, and buried the coffin underground, leaving space on the side for another coffin.
It was deep autumn and the foothills of Mount Shang echoed in a lyric poem of crimson, amber and gold. Anfu Garden perched tranquilly on those foliage-clad hills as if it belonged to another time, another space. The din of wars and wails of human sufferings were mercifully held at bay, leaving this cloister in a kind of peace that was at once mystic and ordinary.
In her bed chamber, Yuanyuan was alarmed to see an envelope with a burned corner placed on her side table. She shuddered, being certain it was from Wu. Earlier she had heard news that Wu was losing his battles and had been anticipating this day. She shuddered and leaned on her bed post for support.
Picking up an ink slab, she mechanically ground it in the ink plate with a little water, as her head swam with disjointed thoughts. She felt compelled to write her afflicted life out before saying a final farewell. Through the whole night, her brush flew furiously over the sheets of paper in front of her, as she discarded draft after draft. By the time the final version of her poem was finished, shards of dawn were breaking in through the window. She blew out the candle. In the grey light, she read the poem aloud, unlocking cascades of emotions within her:
Hers was a life of sad songs that bring tears to the gods.
Her mother died as she was born; her father left her too.
Her scrawny aunt, poor as she was, took her in only to give her up.
To a brothel she went, where men feasted on her beauty not her soul.
Her flowering youth brought her no brighter hope.
Tossed between rich and royal lords, she was just an object sold.
Wu then came along, and a new page began.
But happiness was nothing but a short tease;
Soon molesting hands fell on her again, and into ignominy she sank.
When Wu disowned her that night in the battle camp,
Her heart died a death of a thousand slashes.
But for Yu Lin’s merciful heart, she could not hope to see the light again.
Solitary mirth having now been tasted,
Her worthless shell must return to the netherland.
In the mid-morning, she took a bath and changed into fresh garments. Sitting on her bed, she chanted Taoist prayers for a long time. When that was done, she quietly closed the doors and from her wooden chest took out a long rope. Standing on a stool, she tried several times to loop it through the ceiling beam, but without success. She sat down on the stool to rest. Then a few more times she tried and when finally the rope looped over, she made a noose.
Barely had she put her head inside the noose when someone rammed open the doors and bolted in. It was the monk Yu Lin.
It happened that one of the two novice nuns had noticed the envelope and the devastated expression on her face. She had sensed something was wrong. When Yuanyuan did not appear for breakfast as usual, she had gone to take a peek inside her bed chamber through a chink in the door. She had witnessed the older nun’s first fumblings with the rope, and had run all the way to the Temple of the Three Sages to fetch Yu Lin.
The monk grabbed her legs and eased her down while the novice nun who had brought Yu Lin went to fetch a cup of tea for her. Glancing at the unopened letter, Yu Lin picked it up and handed it to her, saying
in a soft voice:
“Don’t you want to read this?”
He tore open the envelope for her and as she began reading Wu’s final letter, tears swelled in her eyes. Yu Lin had been her Taoist teacher for many years. All the tragic events that had scarred her life were well known to him.
“Yuanyuan, if you want to talk, I am right here to listen,” he said.
“Master Yu, I made Lord Wu a promise and I just wanted to make good that promise,” she said ruefully as she finished reading.
Yu took a quick look through Wu’s letter and shook his head.
“Lord Wu is right,” he said. “Taking your own life serves no purpose. Now that he has entrusted you with his grandson, you owe him a duty as an old friend. This is a chance too to practice compassion as a Taoist.”
“I have to thank you, Master Yu, for saving my worthless life. I also owe you a big debt of gratitude for your teachings over the years. I tried hard to make Lord Wu understand those lessons too. It is a pity he was always too wrapped up in his worldly affairs.”
“It is my calling to be your spiritual guide. I am just glad that I came in time to prevent a tragic mistake. Each one of us follows his or her predestined path. You must not blame yourself for his choices.”
“Maybe you’re right. I must take good care of Shifan. I owe my life to you, Master Yu.”
“Each of us has his or her own worth. Even a small ant values its life. You must remember your own worth and value your life, Yuanyuan.”
Yu Lin felt profound compassion for his world-weary student.
“Yes, as long as Shifan walks the earth, I have a duty to take care of him. I owe that duty to Lord Wu.”
In the autumn three years later, the Green Standard Army, overran the remaining rebel-occupied parts of Hunan, Guangxi and Sichuan provinces and then forged its way into the mountainous province of Yunnan in a three-pronged attack. Han generals were the Commanders of all three forces.
