A bronze bathing tub was brought in; it had a bas-relief design of a huge water lily surrounded by leaves. The bath water was blended with fragrant oil and scented tree bark. Two servants scrubbed me, soaped me, rinsed me, and dried me. Their moves were precise and practiced.
An elderly woman arrived escorted by a legion of young women in men’s dress. She wore the tunic of a woman of letters, a man’s headdress, and shoes with square toes that curled backwards. She introduced herself and then took my pulse and inspected my hair, my eyes, my tongue, and my breath. In a high, curt voice, she dictated to two scribes the color, smell, and shape of my orifices. She asked me to undress, then measured my hands, arms, shoulders, breasts, hips, thighs, ankles, feet, and toes. “Round, square, triangular, bony…” she described. “Red, pink, white…” She asked me to lie down on my back and spread my legs. I obeyed but not without blushing. She made them write down the width and length of my parts, and she penetrated my belly with an ice-cold instrument. “Virgin!” her inspection concluded.
Toward the end of the day, I was visited by a man in a yellow tunic and a lacquered black hat; he was accompanied by many servant women and young men. He had a large belly and a double chin, and, in the powder and rouge of his face, his eyes were just two long slits emphasized by black lines. He greeted me deferentially, complimented me on my appearance, and asked me to follow him. As I walked there were groups of servants going the other way, carrying pink and mauve lanterns. Apart from the rustle of footsteps and clothing, all of them remained absolutely silent.
Gardens and pavilions slipped in and out of my field of vision. Above the gathering darkness, the sky was the color of blood. I thought of Mother, of our dilapidated house. Back there, they would have started the harvest. At this time in the evening, the women would be walking with their children under the cypress trees, the men would be drinking rice alcohol, and great-uncle would be telling ghost stories.
I was frozen by the perfumed air of the Forbidden City.
THREE
Heaven and Earth, sun and moon, day and night, man and woman… in this world where yin and yang repel and attract each other, the energy of duality is all-powerful. The heart of the Empire, the Absolute Master’s estate, did not escape cosmic law. The Outer City, which was dedicated to administration, was the very opposite of the Inner Palace, which was devoted to pleasure. In the former, where there were no women, the Son of Heaven governed as leader of all the officials and generals and fulfilled his duties as high priest by performing rites throughout the year. In the second, the male sex was banished, and only the sovereign, relieved of his sacred duties, drank of the exquisite loveliness of the ten thousand beauties.
In the Outer City, there were soldiers from guards’ regiments stationed beneath awnings, each with his brocade tunic under a bronze breastplate, his saber in his leather belt, his bow bound with rattan, and his arrows dipped in crimson stain. The successions of magnificent buildings with tiles of glazed turquoise and green were a solemn, majestic sight. Their imposing proportions represented celestial harmony, their clean lines symbolized earthly fertility. The architecture in the Inner Palace was less conventional. The more gifted master-builders had tried their hand at fantasy and had ventured into exuberance. Martial strength had stepped down; grace and indolence pervaded everything. My eyes, so accustomed to the dimensions of our rustic homes, had to adapt to the excesses here. My nose, which knew the smells of the countryside, could not recognize the subtle fragrances of exotic fruits and rare flowers. There were birds whose cages were like palaces of gold, dispensing their trills with virtuosity. I discovered the heady pleasures of touch: silk, crepe, satin, brocade, velvet, muslin, gauze, fine porcelain, the coolness of jade dishes, the warmth of lacquered trays, the shimmer of golden goblets, and showers of petals.
There were two long narrow courtyards attached to the Inner City, like two arms protecting a body: The Eastern Palace, the residence of the Imperial Heir and his close government; and on the western side, the Side Quarters reserved for the Court ladies.
The Side Court was a kingdom within the Empire, a painted box inside a golden trunk; it was a labyrinth of tiny rooms separated by walls of adobe clay, bamboo hedges, and narrow passageways. Official pavilions, little gardens, tunnels of wisteria, and countless bedrooms were linked by long covered galleries. Thousands of women came and went with a rustling of sleeves and a murmuring of fans, without ever exposing themselves to the sun or the rain. Imperial hierarchy was scrupulously respected despite the confines of that overpopulated world. The further down someone was on the social scale, the smaller her room, the simpler the decor, and the more modest the furniture. The slave quarter was packed with ramshackle little houses, gloomy rooms, and cold beds; the women there were like insignificant stitches in a vast embroidery.
Nestling under ancient trees, my room was dark; it gleamed with draperies and opened onto a veranda. From my ivory bed I could look through the gauze curtains held up by gold hooks and watch the square of sky marked out by the little courtyard I shared with three other Talented Ones. At dusk, when the sun lingered behind the double ramparts, I could see scattered sparrows spiraling through the inky blueness.
IN KEEPING WITH my rank, the Court granted me two servants and a governess-a strict, cold woman who managed to give me orders while still entrenched in her inferior position. Ruby and Emerald were twins. They were the daughters of a poor family, and their father had entrusted them to a dealer called Zhang who ran a flourishing trade in the West of the Capital that supplied the Court and dignitaries’ families with the prettiest young girls. In the evening, as they uncoiled my hair, they whispered the secrets of the Palace to me. This was how I learned that the imperial servants were not real men: Their parents had cut off their virile parts before selling them to Court. I also discovered that Governess, who was of noble birth, had been the wife of a lord who fought under the standard of the Sui dynasty. After their defeat, the men of her clan had been executed, and she had to become an imperial slave.
In the Palace of Celestial Breath, I followed the training given to new women at Court. The great curtsey, the minor curtsey, greetings of respect, greetings of condescension, greetings from equal to equal, the quick walk, the slow walk… there was no spontaneity in the Forbidden City. Natural responses were considered the premise of the people and of Barbarians; all the elegance of our movements derived from the height of restraint. Looking, eating, drinking, sitting down, sleeping, rising, speaking, listening-the most elementary acts in life were meticulously regulated by superstitious and aesthetic codes.
Inner thoughts had to be impregnated with the same rigorous austerity. Moral observance exemplified delicacy of mind; perversion was a crime that could lead to death. One hundred prohibitions were written in fine calligraphy on a ten-panel screen. The study of Inner Law was supplemented by reading Behaviour of a Lady at Court by the Empress of Learning and Virtue.
I was improving my skills in music and dance. The directives for clothing taught me to distinguish between the nine official hierarchies-thanks to the variations in colors and the way things were worn.
The moon filled out and wasted away. The trees had already lost their leaves. I lamented my awkwardness, and I envied the more lowly servants who seemed to move around me with such grace and ease. Despite my efforts, my muscles were still taut; I walked too quickly; I could not distribute my weight between my toes and my heels; my inclinations, my prostrations, and my stride lacked reserve-I could not shake off a rough-hewn animal brutality.