I was glad that Emperor Hsien Feng cared to present me to his high-ranking friends. In their eyes I was still just a concubine, albeit a favored one; nevertheless, the exposure was crucial to my political development and maturity. Personally knowing someone like Tseng Kuo-fan would serve me well in the future.
As I listened to the conversation between Emperor Hsien Feng and the general, I was reminded of the sweetest days of my childhood when my father told me stories of China’s past.
“You yourself are a scholar,” Hsien Feng said to Tseng. “I have heard that you prefer to hire officers who are literate.”
“Your Majesty, I believe that anyone who has been taught Confucius’s teachings has a better understanding of loyalty and justice.”
“I have also heard that you don’t recruit former soldiers. Why?”
“Well, in my experience I find that professional soldiers have bad habits. Their first thought when a battle starts is to save their own skin. They desert their posts shamelessly.”
“How do you recruit quality soldiers?”
“I spend taels on recruiting peasants from poor areas and remote mountains. These people have purer characters. I train them myself. I try to cultivate a sense of brotherhood.”
“I have heard that many of them are from Hunan.”
“Yes. I am Hunanese myself. It is easy for them to identify with me and with each other. We speak the same dialect. It is like a big family.”
“And you are the father, of course.”
Tseng Kuo-fan smiled, proud and embarrassed at the same time.
Emperor Hsien Feng nodded. “It has been reported to me that you have equipped your army with superior weapons-better than the Imperial Army’s. Is that true?”
Tseng Kuo-fan got up from his seat and lifted his robe and got down on his knees. “That is true. However, it is important that Your Majesty see that I am part of your Imperial Army. I can’t be seen otherwise.” He bowed and remained on the floor to emphasize his point.
“Rise, please,” Emperor Hsien Feng said. “Let me rephrase my words so there will be no misunderstanding. What I mean is that the Imperial Army, especially those divisions run by Manchu warlords, have become a pot of maggots. They feed on the dynasty’s blood and contribute nothing. That is why I am spending more time learning about you.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Tseng Kuo-fan got up and returned to his seat. “I believe it is important to equip the soldiers’ minds, too.”
“How do you mean?”
“The peasants are not trained to fight before they become soldiers. Like most people, they can’t stand the sight of blood. Punishment won’t change this behavior, but there are other ways. I can’t let my men get used to defeat.”
“I understand. I am used to defeat myself,” the Emperor said with a sarcastic smile.
Both Tseng Kuo-fan and I couldn’t be sure whether His Majesty was mocking or revealing his true feelings. Tseng’s chopsticks froze before his open mouth.
“I bear the unbearable shame,” Emperor Hsien Feng said, as if explaining. “The difference is that I can’t desert.”
The general was affected by the Son of Heaven’s sadness. He again got down on his knees. “I swear with my life to bring back your honor, Your Majesty. My army is ready to die for the Ch’ing Dynasty.”
Emperor Hsien Feng got up from his chair and helped Tseng Kuofan to his feet. “How great is the force under your command?”
“I have thirteen divisions of land forces and thirteen divisions of water forces, plus local Braves. Every division has five hundred men.”
Sitting through audiences like this, I entered the Emperor’s dream. Working together, we became true friends, and lovers, and something more. Bad news continued, but Hsien Feng had become calm enough to face the difficulties. His depression didn’t go away, but his mood swings became less dramatic. He was at his best during this period, however brief. I missed him when business kept him from me.
Thirteen
I HEAR PROMISING BEATS.” Doctor Sun Pao-tien’s voice came through my curtain. “It tells me that you have a sheemai.”
“What’s a sheemai?” I asked nervously. The curtain separated the doctor and me. Lying on my bed, I couldn’t see the man’s face, only his shadow projected by candlelight on the curtain. I stared at his hand, which was inside the curtain. It rested on my wrist, with its second and middle fingers pressing lightly. It was a delicate-looking hand with amazingly long fingers. The hand carried with it the faint smell of herbal medicines. Since no male but the Emperor was allowed to see the females in the Forbidden City, an Imperial doctor based his diagnosis on the pulse of his patient.
I wondered what he could examine while the curtain blocked his eyes, yet the pulse alone had guided Chinese doctors to detect the body’s problems for thousands of years. Sun Pao-tien was the best physician in the nation. He was from a Chinese family with five generations of doctors. He was known for discovering a peach-pit-sized stone in the gut of the Grand Empress Lady Jin. In terrible pain, the Empress didn’t believe the doctor but trusted him enough to drink the herbal medicine he’d prescribed. Three months later a maid found the stone in Her Majesty’s stool.
Doctor Sun Pao-tien’s voice was soft and gentle. “Shee means ‘happiness,’ and mai means ‘pulses.’ Sheemai-happy pulses. Lady Yehonala, you are pregnant.”
Before my mind recognized what he said, Doctor Sun Pao-tien withdrew his hand.
“Excuse me!” I sat up and reached to pull at the curtain. Fortunately An-te-hai had clipped it closed. I was not sure whether I indeed had heard the word “pregnant.” I had been suffering from morning sickness for weeks and didn’t trust my hearing.
“An-te-hai!” I cried. “Get me the hand back!”
After a busy movement on the other side of the curtain, the doctor’s shadow returned. Several eunuchs guided him to the chair and his hand was pushed in. It was obviously displeased. It rested on the edge of my bed with the fingers curled inward like a crawling spider. I could care less. I wanted to hear the word “pregnant” again. I picked up the hand and placed it on my wrist. “Make sure, Doctor,” I pleaded.
“There is success in all fields of your body.” Doctor Sun Pao-tien’s voice was unhurried, each word spoken clearly. “Your veins and arteries are beaming. Beautiful elements blanket your hills and dales…”
“Eh? What does that mean?” I shook the hand.
An-te-hai’s shadow merged with the doctor’s. He translated the doctor’s words for me. The excitement in his voice was unmistakable. “My lady, the dragon seed has sprouted!”
I let go of Sun Pao-tien’s hand. I couldn’t wait for An-te-hai to remove the clips. I thanked Heaven for its blessing. For the rest of the day I ate almost continually. An-te-hai was so overjoyed that he forgot to feed his birds. He went to the Imperial fish farm and asked for a bucket of live fish.
“Let’s celebrate, my lady,” he said when he came back.
We went to the lake with the fish. One by one I freed the fish. The ritual, called fang sheng, was a gesture of mercy. With each fish that was given a chance to live, I added to my stock of goodwill.
The next morning I woke up to the sound of music in the late-summer sky. It was from An-te-hai’s pigeons, flying in circles above my roof. The sound of wind pipes took me back to Wuhu, where I had made similar pipes from water reeds, which I tied to my own birds and to kites too. Depending on their thickness, the reeds would produce different sounds. One old villager tied two dozen wind pipes to a large kite. He arranged the pipes in such a way that they produced the melody of a popular folk song.