I spoon-fed him some soup; thirty years earlier, he had been the one who did this for me. I remembered his distraught face full of love, his tentative voice asking me to be his empress. Tears clouded my eyes: if only I could die and he could be resuscitated!
But the gods remained deaf to my pleas. Once again Little Phoenix would betray my hopes. One evening when he had been bled from his head, his pains disappeared, his eyes regained their sight, and he smiled at me.
“Sovereign Father appeared to me in a dream,” he murmured. “He invited me to follow him, and I started to float through a sea of clouds. Father led me through the fog and raised his arm to point to the horizon. The mists dispersed to reveal a golden palace surrounded by light, and flying round it were phoenixes with wings in nine colors. I realized that this was the celestial residence of Sovereign Father, Empress Mother, and my beloved sister, Little Bull. Music began to play, an extraordinary tinkling sound. A procession of immortals came from far away to greet me. And I decided to come back to Earth to tell you that I’m leaving!”
Tears streamed over my face.
“Empress,” the sovereign continued, “my time has been accounted for. What a shame the heir is not ready to reign-this one concern means I cannot leave in peace.”
“Your Majesty tortures himself in vain,” I cried. “He will soon be well again. Next year he will undertake the pilgrimage to Mount Song, and Heaven will bless him and grant him the secret of immortality.”
“I’m so tired of living in pain. The apparition of Sovereign Father has calmed my fears. Death is nothing. It is abandoning a rotting, worthless body; it is a soul ascending. The peak of the sacred mountain, which is the highest most point to the living, will be nothing but a blade of grass when I am in the heavens. Be happy-I am to be delivered!”
I was silenced by Little Phoenix’s words. It was too late to hold back a man who had laid eyes on the marvels of the afterlife. In his eyes all the riches and delights of this world were now mere filth and dust.
“Majesty,” I said despairingly, “allow me to follow you; I want to continue serving you.”
“Heavenlight, I have been a very ordinary sovereign. My only good quality has been that I have succeeded in surrounding myself with people more able than me. I have never liked being on the throne or giving commands. But I was able to make a great empress of you. If I had to enumerate the achievements of my time on Earth, I would say that you were my masterpiece. Before we are temporarily parted-because, later, you will come to join me-I wanted to thank you for your patience, for the sacrifices you have made, for risking your own life to give me heirs. Forgive me if I caused you suffering.”
I was overwhelmed by the thoughts milling in my mind. I was about to reply when the sovereign interrupted me, his voice reduced to a feeble hiss: “Heavenlight, your hour has not yet come. You must stay here to watch over the dynasty. The heir is too young; when I die, he will not know how to run an empire weakened by natural disasters and uprisings. I have faith in your experience. You will know how to master the situation and restore order and stability to the world. Heavenlight, look after yourself; I am trusting you with my people and my empire.” His eyes closed, and I cried: “Little Phoenix, don’t abandon me!” I thought I saw a mischievous smile on his face as he whispered almost inaudibly: “I’ve always wanted to die before you, did you know that?”
THE COURT HASTILY left the Palace of Celestial Oblations. The Celestial Emperor lay on his bed in a carriage drawn by two hundred coachmen. The imperial road to the eastern capital would be the route he took toward his death. To reach the world of clouds and eternal ease, my husband endured his final torment. I stayed beside him, grimly fascinated by the terrifying process of dematerialization that would render him immortaclass="underline" his skin had to be burned of its filth until only purity and incandescence were left. The soul that had been called up by the gods had to break free from the flesh that housed it to fly up to the heavens.
At Luoyang, border troubles forced me to leave the dying sovereign’s side to hold audiences alongside the heir regent. For the first time I was inattentive, distracted, listening out for messengers coming to bring me news of his death. Human affairs seemed so futile to me now that I had seen the splendors of another world through my husband’s agony. When the meeting was over, I hurried back to the Inner Palace and went back to my prayers at Little Phoenix’s bedside. It was now he, a dying man, who gave me strength and warmth and illuminated my entire existence.
On the third night of the twelfth moon in the second year of Eternal Purity, the astrologers were burning tortoise scales, and they announced the word “severing.” The following morning the Celestial Emperor woke and found that his pains had disappeared. He spoke clearly, and he himself wanted to announce the Great Remission and the Changing of the Era to the name the Magnificent Path. Doctors and eunuchs managed to lift him from his bed and to wrap him in fur-lined tunics. A litter carried him through the narrow passageways of the Forbidden City and took him to the pavilion at the top of the Gate of Celestial Law.
On the far side of the moat, beyond the square formations of cavalry and foot soldiers, were the common people who had come from the four corners of the city. They prostrated themselves before him. Morning snow had covered the roofs of the eastern capital; temples, bell-towers, and pagodas looked alike in the flurrying greyness, and princely pavilions could hardly be distinguished from merchant’s houses and more humble dwellings.
For a moment the Celestial Emperor’s gaze lingered on the horizon to the west and focused through the fog and falling snow on Long Peace, his native town. Drums, bells, and gongs began to sound. The sovereign could not read his decree because the jubilant people were already crying “Long live the Emperor!”
That afternoon he summoned ministers; the Supreme Son; the King of Yu, Sun; and Moon, the Princess of Eternal Peace to his bedside. He dictated his wilclass="underline" “… seven days will be sufficient for the funeral ceremonies; the heir will ascend to the throne in the presence of the coffin; the tomb and the funeral city will be built in sober style; the government will consult the Celestial Empress on important military and political matters.”
Early in the evening, my husband woke feeling very short of breath. He asked for an anaesthetizing drug, and, before sinking back into sleep, he called me over to his bed and took my hand.
Night fell, but I dared not move. As I held his hand in mine, I was his last link with the world of the living. There in the flickering candlelight, with his hollow cheeks, sunken eyes, and dry lips, he already looked like a pallid corpse. A cold current suddenly ran through the palm of my hand, and I heard muted music, a tinkling of crystal, silver bells and jade flutes.
Little Phoenix ’s face relaxed. Smoothed of their suffering, his motionless features had all the elegance of sculpted marble and the beauty of an enigmatic mask. His half-open eyes continued to watch the gods as they gathered invisibly around him. His lips were drawn out to the corners of his mouth, already in an expression of rapture.
I waited for the divine music to fade before rising to my feet. Eunuchs opened the doors of the palace wide. In the lantern light, I saw no hint of white snow in the square courtyard, so full was it of princes and ministers prostrating themselves on the ground. Town criers chorused the words I murmured: “The Emperor of China has risen up to Heaven. The greatest empire in the world has been orphaned.”