Nuharoo celebrated the end of the journey by having three baths in a row. The maid reported that she almost drowned in the tub because she fell asleep. I called on Rong and her young son. We visited our mother and brother. I invited Mother to move into the palace and live with me so I could take care of her, but she declined, preferring to stay where she was, in a quiet house in a small lane behind the Forbidden City. I didn’t insist. If she lived with me, she would have to get permission every time she wanted to go shopping or visit her friends. Her activities would be restricted to her rooms and garden, and she would not be allowed to cook her own meals. I wanted to spend more time with Mother, but I had to meet with Nuharoo about our plan regarding Su Shun.
“Unless there is good news, I do not wish to hear it,” Nuharoo warned. “The hard journey has cut my longevity short enough.”
I stood by Nuharoo’s half-broken door. The foreigners had damaged everything in sight. Her mirror was scratched. Her golden carvings were gone, and so were the embroideries from the walls. Her closets were empty and her bed had men’s footprints on it. There were still pieces of glass on the floor. Her art collections were missing. The gardens were ruined. The fish, birds, peacocks and parrots had all died.
“Misery is the work of the mind,” Nuharoo said as she took a sip of her tea. “Master it and you will feel nothing but happiness. The beauty of my nails has not been damaged, because they stayed inside the protectors.”
I looked at her and recalled how she had sat inside the palanquin in a rain-soaked robe for days on end. I knew how hard that had been because I had experienced it myself. The wet cushions made me feel like I was sitting in urine. I didn’t know whether I should admire Nuharoo’s effort to maintain her dignity. I had wanted to get off the chair to walk during the journey. Nuharoo had stopped me. “Bearers are made to carry you,” she insisted. I explained that I was sick of having a wet butt: “I’ve got to air it somehow!”
I remembered that she was silent, but her expression clearly told me that she disapproved of my behavior. She was shocked when I finally decided to get out and walk side by side with the bearers. She let me know that she felt insulted, which forced me back inside the palanquin.
“Don’t look at me as if you have discovered a new star in the sky,” she said, fastening her hair into a base. “Let me share with you a Buddhist’s teaching: To truly have something is to not have it at all.”
It didn’t make any sense to me.
She shook her head in pity.
“Good night and rest well, Nuharoo.”
She nodded. “Send Tung Chih over, would you?”
I desperately wanted to spend the night with my son after being separated for so long. But I knew Nuharoo. When it came to Tung Chih, her will ruled. I stood no chance. “May I send him after his bath?”
“Fine,” she said, and I made my exit.
“Don’t try to climb high, Yehonala,” her voice came from behind. “Embrace the universe and embrace what comes to you. There is no significance in fighting.”
Leaving me to finish the last part of the decree indicting Su Shun, Prince Kung departed Peking for Miyun. The town was fifty miles from the capital and the procession’s last stop before it. Su Shun and Hsien Feng’s coffin were scheduled to arrive at Miyun by early afternoon.
Yung Lu was ordered to go back to Su Shun and remain close to him. Su Shun assumed that everything was going the way he had planned and that I, his biggest obstacle, had been removed.
Su Shun was found drunk when the procession reached Miyun. He was so excited by his own prospects that he had already begun celebrating with his cabinet. Local prostitutes were seen running around the Imperial coffin stealing ornaments. When Su Shun was greeted by General Sheng Pao at the gateway of Miyun, he announced my death with great elation.
Receiving a cold response from Sheng Pao, Su Shun looked around and noticed Prince Kung, who stood not far from the general. Su Shun ordered Sheng Pao to remove Prince Kung, but Sheng Pao remained where he was.
Su Shun turned to Yung Lu, who stood behind him. Yung Lu made no move either.
“Guards!” Su Shun shouted. “Take the traitor down!”
“Have you a decree to do so?” Prince Kung asked.
“My word is the decree” was Su Shun’s reply.
Prince Kung took a step back, and General Sheng Pao and Yung Lu moved forward.
Su Shun woke up to what he faced. “Don’t you dare. I am appointed by His Majesty. I am the will of Emperor Hsien Feng!”
Imperial Guards formed a circle around Su Shun and his men.
Su Shun shouted, “I’ll hang you, all of you!”
At a signal from Prince Kung, Sheng Pao and Yung Lu took Su Shun by the arms. Su Shun struggled and called for Prince Yee’s help.
Prince Yee came running with his guards, but Yung Lu’s men intercepted them.
From his sleeve Prince Kung took a yellow decree. “Whoever dares to contest the order of Emperor Tung Chih will be put to death.”
While Yung Lu disarmed Su Shun’s men, Prince Kung read what I had drafted: “Emperor Tung Chih instructs that Su Shun be arrested immediately. Su Shun has been found responsible for organizing a coup d’état.”
Locked up in a cage on wheels, Su Shun looked like a circus beast when the Parade of Sorrow resumed its journey from Miyun to Peking. In the name of my son I informed the governors of all the states and provinces of Su Shun’s arrest and his removal from office. I told Prince Kung that I considered it crucial to win the moral ground as well. I needed to know the feelings of my governors in order to reassert stability. If there was confusion, I wanted to take care of it right away. An-te-hai helped me with the task, even though he had been released from the water chamber of the Imperial prison only days before. He was wrapped in bandages but was happy.
Comments regarding the arrest of Su Shun came from all over China. I was greatly relieved that the majority of the governors sided with me. To those in doubt, I encouraged honesty. I made it clear that I would like to be approached with the absolute truth no matter how it might contradict my personal view of Su Shun. I wanted the governors to know that I was prepared to listen and was more than willing to make my decision regarding Su Shun’s punishment based on their recommendations.
Shortly afterward two grand secretaries, who represented civil justice and were originally in Su Shun’s camp, denounced Su Shun. It was then that General Tseng Kuo-fan and the Chinese ministers and governors expressed their support for me. I had called them the fence-sitters, because they had carefully observed both sides before committing themselves. Tseng Kuo-fan criticized Su Shun’s “gross historical impropriety.” Following Tseng, governors from the northern provinces came forward. They voiced their disagreement regarding Su Shun’s exclusion of Prince Kung and proposed that power be vested in Empress Nuharoo and me.
A trial began as soon as Su Shun arrived in Peking. It was presided over by Prince Kung. Su Shun and the rest of the Gang of Eight were found guilty of subversion of the state, which was one of the ten abominations of Ch’ing law, second only to rebellion. Su Shun was also found guilty of crimes against the family and the virtue of society. In the decree I had composed, I pronounced him “abominable, unpardonable and irredeemable.”
Prince Yee was “granted” a rope and was “permitted” to hang himself. He was escorted to a special room where a beam and a stool awaited. In the room was a servant who would assist Yee to climb onto the stool in case his legs failed him. The servant was also expected to kick the stool out from under Prince Yee once his head was in the noose.
It sickened me to order such a sentence, but I realized I had no choice.
Over the next few days, more of Su Shun’s allies, including Chief Eunuch Shim, were stripped of their power and rank. Shim was sentenced to death by whipping, but I interceded on his behalf. I told the court that I believed the new era should begin in mercy.