by Zoey Gong
This time, things are different. Honghui didn’t order me to marry him—he asked me. It was the first time in my life I was asked to do anything. Of course, Mingxia asked me to take her daughter’s place at the consort selection. She hadn’t forced me to do so. But could I really have said no when she offered me so much money? Money that could save my family from starving? I couldn’t say no, and Mingxia knew that. I wonder for a moment where she and Lihua are. Is Lihua happy? Did she take advantage of her freedom and marry for love? I suppose I’ll never know.
A sense of relief washes over me as we enter Peking. I’m home. People bow at the emperor as we pass, but slowly, whispers ripple through the crowds and people look up, even though their faces are downcast. They are looking at me.
“Is that the empress?” they ask one another. I meet their curious eyes and smile, giving knowing nods.
“Empress! Empress!” It is the children who dare acknowledge me first. They run alongside my horse, waving, laughing.
“It is the empress!” I hear people say. “The empress has returned!” The voices race ahead of us so that people start to watch our approach with anticipation. When they catch sight of me, they clap and cheer. Parents hold their children high so that they may catch a glimpse of me.
“See,” Emperor Hong hui says, “they still love you.”
My heart swells. I feel as though I have done so little for them, certainly not enough to engender such love and devotion. But, considering how little the Manchu have done over the past centuries for the Han people, I suppose even my small acts of kindness must seem bountiful. Even a single grain of rice can seem like a feast to a starving person.
“If you give them money,” I say, “they will love you too.”
“What?” Honghui says. “Just throw money at them for no reason?”
“Is not earning the goodwill of your people reason enough?” I ask. He looks at me as if I am an annoying child, but then he sighs and unties a purse from his belt. He opens the purse and offers the coins inside to me.
“After you,” he says.
I reach inside the purse and pull out a handful of coins. I take a coin in my right hand and lean down, reaching toward a woman with a baby on her hip. Our fingers touch and the coin slides from my hand to hers. Her eyes widen in surprise, and I only catch a glimpse of the joy on her face before the long strides of my horse leave her far behind me. But I can hear her voice call after me.
“Thank you, empress!” she yells. “May you live ten thousand years!”
I try to move more quickly, passing the coins into hands waiting merely to touch me, not expecting to receive money simply for stepping aside from the wide road as we pass. They thank me, praise me, drop to their knees in gratitude.
Suddenly, a face appears in the crowd. A face of know. A face I remember. As he walks toward me, I lean out even further and reach for him. But as he gets closer, I realize that it’s not who I think it is.
It’s not my father. I blink hard, letting the tears that had threatened to fall clear the dust away that must have been clouding my vision. The man does look similar to my father—middle-aged, wiry, long hair grayed before its time by decades of exhausting labor. But it is not him. Still, I see my father in him. I see my mother in the woman next to him, and my sisters in the children that run around their feet. I give the man the remainder of the coins from my purse.
“Heaven bless you, empress,” he says, and it is as if I can hear my father’s voice. I feel as though he is not speaking only for himself, but for all the Han people.
The gates of Forbidden City loom before us, and to my surprise, they open. I tug on my horse’s reins to slow her down. I expect to be directed around the wall so that I may enter through the east or west gates, as I always have before. I am only a woman, after all.
Honghui notices that I am lagging behind and he motions for me to catch up. “You are the empress,” he says. “You come this way.”
I gulp as I tentatively urge my horse forward. I remember something from my previous time here about empresses being the only women allowed to enter the Forbidden City from the main gate, and only on their wedding day. I know that this is my right, but it still feels…wrong, somehow. I then remember that Honghui still does not know the truth about me. That I am not Manchu.
I have played the part for so long, I almost forgot myself that I am not who I am pretending to be. I know that I have already agreed to Emperor Honghui’s proposal. That marriage to me is important to him and his position as emperor. But it has all been based on a lie. I had thought that my marriage to Honghui would be different from my marriage to
Guozhi. That it would be better because it is my choice. Because we love each other. But can it truly be better if it is still based on the same lie?
“Honghui,” I say. He looks at me. I open my mouth, but a loud booming sound like an explosion drowns out my words. But it was not an explosion. I look back and see that the big red gates have slammed closed behind us.
“Hmm?” Honghui looks at me expectantly.
I sigh and shake my head. “Nothing.” I’m here now. I cannot back out without hurting him, hurting myself, hurting Yanmei. Perhaps I have made a mistake. Perhaps I should not have returned. But it is too late to change things now.
“Are you sure?” Honghui asks me. “You look as though you are facing down an executioner.”
I try to gulp, but the phlegm gets stuck in my throat. I had forgotten about the seriousness of my deception until now. I don’t think that Honghui would have me put to death if he learned the truth about me, but Guozhi could have. That is one way in which Honghui and Guozhi differ from one another. Honghui is gentle and sensitive while Guozhi was strict and rigid. I’ll never forget that Guozhi sent Lady An to her death without cause. Honghui never would have done such a cruel thing.
I shake my head and force a smile. “I just never thought I would return here, especially as an empress.”
Honghui chuckles as he jumps down from his horse. He then reaches up, putting his hands on my waist as he lowers me to my feet. Our bodies brush together, and I feel a fluttering in my stomach. Even though we have been reunited for days, we have yet to consummate our new roles as husband and wife. Each day of the journey was exhausting and left us filthy with dust and sweat and horse stink. I was able to wash my body each night with creek water boiled in a kettle over a fire, but it seemed to do little for my aching bones, nor could I wash my hair. While I am still tired from the journey, I know that a long soak in a tub with perfumed soaps and oils awaits me. Once my hair and body are clean and my aching muscles relaxed, I know that I will be more than eager to lay with my husband. And the knowledge that our relationship will no longer need to be kept secret increases rather than diminish my desire.
“May I come to your room tonight, your majesty?” I ask him.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says, pulling me to him and kissing me in full view of all those around us. I hear gasps and the uncomfortable shuffling of feet. It is not common for any couple to show affection in public, much less an emperor and empress. I feel Honghui’s fingers dig into my back and his breath shudders.
“Must we wait?” he asks me.
I chuckle. “Everything should be done properly,” I say. “We don’t want to give anyone cause to object to our marriage.”
He sighs in disappointment. “Of course.” His fingers slowly release me, though reluctantly. As he does so, I see a large group of servants approaching, at the head of which are my former chief eunuch, Jinhai, and senior maid, Nuwa. When they reach me, Jinhai drops to this knees and bursts into tears.
“My lady!” he cries. “My most kind and generous lady. I have missed you so much. I thought I would never see you again.”
“Nor I you, my friend,” I say, kneeling down and lightly tugging on his shoulders to encourage him to stand.
“I wanted to go to you,” he says, wiping his face with his sleeves, “go with Suyin. But I knew I would never
be permitted to enter the temple.”
“I know,” I say. “Suyin told me.”
“You…you saw her? Talked to her?” he says, confusion and hope in this voice as he looks around. I then notice that Yanmei is among those gathered, even though she would have had to enter the Forbidden City through a side gate. If Suyin had returned with us, she most likely would have entered with Yanmei. When Jinhai realizes that Suyin is not among us, he looks at me, daring to look me directly in the face.
“Where is she?” he asks, and I can hear the fear in his voice of the answer. I can feel tears welling up in my eyes as I watch his face crumble.
“I’m sorry,” is all I can say.
“No,” he says as he slumps back to the ground, a puddle at my feet. I kneel down and do my best to comfort him, but I know there is little comfort to be had. Suyin and Jinhai had been by my side from the day I first entered the Forbidden City. Together, they worked to raise me up from the lowest-ranked concubine to an empress. They were friends and partners. Losing Suyin must feel like losing a sister to Jinhai.
“Please, someone take him somewhere he can rest,” I say.
“No!” Jinhai says, forcing himself to his feet. “I— I must attend to my duties, to you, my lady.”
I take his hands in mine and squeeze them. “Having you back by my side is more than enough.”
He bows and thanks me. “I must make sure your palace is ready for your arrival.” He shuffles off, along with half a dozen of the servants who had come to greet me. Nuwa then steps to my side and offers me her arm. I take it gladly, even though I do not need her assistance for walking since I am not wearing pot-bottom shoes, but leather slippers more appropriate for riding a horse.
“Welcome home, my lady,” Nuwa says, and my heart swells at the thought of finally being able to truly call this place my home.
10
“Have the girls brought to me,” I tell Nuwa as we make our way to my palace. “I have missed them so much. I wrote to them… Well, I had a letter written to them every week that I was away. Tell me, did they receive any of them?”
Nuwa presses her lips into a thin line. “That was very thoughtful of you, my lady. But surely, you must have known that it would be a wasted effort. The dowager empress would never have allowed the girls to see them.”
“I was afraid it would be so,” I say. “But I still do not think the effort was wasted. It is important to me that the girls know that I did not forget them during my time away. That I would never forget them. That I did not abandon them.”
Nuwa is quiet for a moment, then she forces a smile to her lips. “Yes, my lady. Of course.”
“What is it?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “Nothing, your majesty. You are right in everything, of course.”
I stop and turn to face her. Nuwa does not look directly at me. “Do you think I keep you by my side to lie to me? I do not wish for you to ply me with lies and sweet words. Tell me the truth. What have I done wrong?” Now that Suyin is gone, Nuwa is the woman I will have to rely on to help me, protect me even, here in the palace. I care for Nuwa greatly, and I think she wants what is best for me, but we are not as close as I was with Suyin. No one in the world is like Suyin. But without Suyin, Nuwa and I will need to come to a new understanding, develop a new sort of relationship, one in which I can trust her completely.
“I do not lie to you, my lady,” she says firmly. “You did nothing wrong. But you must understand that the girls are too young to understand all that has happened. They are hurt and angry. And the fact that the dowager kept your letters from them…” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I only want you to be prepared.”
“Be prepared for what?” I ask.
She sighs. “The girls… They have not been themselves since you left. Dongmei in particular. They have been angry. Rebellious. Even the dowager cannot control them, it seems.”
“Well, I can hardly blame them. They had two mothers in Lady An and Empress Caihong, and they lost both of them in a matter of months. Then they lost me as well, more than once. They lost their father. They must feel so alone, afraid of what will be taken away from them next.”
“Indeed, my lady,” Nuwa says. “They have suffered so much in their short lives.”
“Still, have them brought to my palace. I will see them as soon as possible,” I say. “I am the empress now, Honghui’s full, proper, and only wife. I’m not going anywhere again.”
“Yes, my lady,” Nuwa says with a bow. She then motions toward the open gate of my palace.
I shake my head. “No, I am going to see the dowager first.”
“Now?” Nuwa says, alarm on her face. “But…you are not dressed!”
I chuckle. “I am hardly naked,” I say, indicating my red wedding gown.
“You know what I mean,” Nuwa says, not amused. “You are travel-worn. Filthy. Your hair…” She shakes her head. “No, you cannot see your mother-in-law this way. She will not respect you.”
“She won’t respect me anyway,” I say. “Besides, I see no reason to waste time and energy making myself beautiful for her. Who is she to me?”
Nuwa worries her hands together. “Perhaps…. But, oh, my lady. Are you sure? You would feel so much better after you had a bath and your hair combed—”
“Later,” I say, and I make my way toward the dowager empress’s palace. I want to see the old woman, now, before I lose any of my anger toward her. And before she has more time to plot against me. By now, she has surely heard of my return, but she won’t be expecting me to visit her so soon. She was probably planning on coming to my palace on her own, to “pay her respects.” She would have been dressed in her finest clothes, followed by her entire household, all in an attempt to intimidate me. But I no longer fear her. What can she do to me? She only held power before because she was Guozhi’s mother. Whether or not he loved her, I cannot say. He never intimated to me that he did. In fact, there were many times that he sided with me over her. But he did at least honor her as his mother, and he expected me to do the same. But Guozhi is gone, and Honghui feels none of the respect toward her that his brother did. Dowager empress Fenfeng might still reside within the palace walls, but she might as well not exist anymore considering the lack of power or respect she now commands.
In addition to Nuwa, around half a dozen servants, maids and eunuchs, follow me. One of the eunuchs runs ahead and announces my arrival at Fenfeng’s palace. When I step through the gate into her courtyard, it is as I suspected. The place is in a flurry of activity as maids and eunuchs rush to either bow before me or attempt to escape my notice to finish their tasks for Fenfeng. A moment later, Fenfeng appears from her bed chamber looking more haggard than I have ever seen her. It seems I caught her in the middle of dressing as she still wears flat slippers and her hair is merely pulled back, a headdress attached to her head slightly askew. I cannot suppress a pleased smile at having caught her off guard.
“Mother,” I say sweetly. “It is good to see you again.”
“Indeed, Empress,” Fenfeng says from her kneeling position before me. A position that I know must be painful for her old knees, but I do not give her leave to stand. “Your return is a joyous surprise.”
I chuckle, but there is little humor in it. “It must have been more of a surprise to you than most, considering the…guest you sent to visit me a few weeks ago.”
Fenfeng is quiet for a moment. Surely my hint about the assassin was not that vague.
“I know not what you mean,” she says.
My heart skips a beat and my confidence falters. Could I have been wrong? Was she not the person who sent the assassin after me?
“Though…” she continues, rising from kneeling without my permission, “I did hear that your little servant went to visit you.” She looks directly at my face. “Is that who you are referring to?”
My mouth goes dry. So, I was right. She did send the man to kill me. And somehow, she knows that he killed Suyin instead. Could it b
e that she sent the assassin to kill Suyin in the first place? Was she merely sending me a message? Telling me that she was never beyond her reach. Telling me that I would never be safe? Could I truly have underestimated her so much?
I do not know what to say about any of this. I wasn’t prepared. I’m not as smart, as quick on my feet as Fenfeng is. I decide to change the subject.
“Give me the letters,” I say.
“What letters?” she asks.
“The letters I wrote to the girls every week that I was at the Temple of Grief,” I say.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she says.
“I know you kept them,” I say, clenching my hands into fists. “I knew when I wrote them that you would never let the girls see them, but I wrote to them anyway, such is my love for them. Now, give them back to me!”
“I burned them!” Fenfeng says, showing more emotion than I expected.
“How dare you,” I hiss.
“How dare you!” Fenfeng replies. “You don’t know those girls. You don’t really love them. You weren’t there when they were born. You haven’t been here to watch them grow into women. You were banished. Erased. For you to write them, to pretend you still had some part to play in their lives, was cruel. Why give them false hope of even seeing you again? You should have stayed at the abbey and stayed silent like you were told to do!”
My mouth gapes, but I am unable to respond. I wrote to the girls because I loved them… But is Fenfeng right? Would my letters have done more harm than good? She is right to an extent. I never thought I would be back here, that I would see them again. That I would have a chance at being their mother again. But…but I am here. I did return.
