Lee Bo stood next to me, his hand with dirty and broken fingernails lightly resting on my shoulder. When I squinted my eyes just so, I could see every crease and every speck of dirt rubbed so deep into his olive skin. “What do we do now?
“The assistant general, one Feng Yunshan, and some of his army are inside the city,” Lee Bo said. “The Qing have surrendered, or at least this is what everyone here thinks.”
“So it is possible there’s still fighting in the city.”
“Everything is possible.” Lee Bo shrugged. “However, if you want to speak to the Assistant General Feng, this might be a good opportunity to do so. If the Taipings solidify their position over the Qing, the alliance with your country may not seem as necessary as now, when everything is still teetering on the edge.”
I sighed. The political maneuvering was starting to wear on me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that if it were up to me, I would never leave the comfort of St. Petersburg or Trubetskoye again if I could help it, and if I did would make sure to remain within a hundred yards of a hot bath at all times. “I suppose. Isn’t it dangerous, though, if there’s still fighting?”
“We’ll take Kuan Yu and Liu Zhi with us,” Lee Bo said, as if that negated my point completely.
We came to the gates, that stood undamaged in the otherwise charred wall, but the gates were unlocked. Despite the destruction, I stared all around me, suddenly hungry for novel sights. The streets were wide and deserted, and I marveled at the beauty of the remaining houses — even though only a few still stood intact among the wreckage, I found their appearance as attractive as it was foreign: the houses, only one or two stories tall, boasted an abundance of wide windows and roofs with steeply arching eaves. They were painted green and gold and red, and plum trees, bare now, grew between the houses in small copses. Their bamboo and wood paneling, lacquered and brightly painted, gave the street a cheerful and peaceful air, belied by the burned out ruins all around us.
I let Lee Bo and the others lead the way, and trailed behind, keeping an eye out for troops. There were very few people in the streets, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. However, there was no shortage of dead bodies — I tried to look away when yet another corpse, stiff and straight and white with frost captured my gaze. I stared instead at the roofs and the windows, trying to guess who was behind an occasional shadow that flitted behind the white screens guarding most of the windows.
After a few streets like that, we entered a part of the city where buildings were taller and streets were wider, giving way to several squares with large, imposing buildings. One of them, particularly sprawling, had a statue of a goddess in front of it.
“This is the examination hall,” Lee Bo told me as we passed it. “Local students take their examinations here, and they get assigned to the official posts depending on how well they do.”
“Did you do well?”
He grinned. “Not really. This is why I’m running a factory in Siberia. But Chiang Tse did very well.”
The sound of his name pricked my heart like a small, sharp pin. “Oh? Was he the governor you wanted me to meet?”
Lee Bo only smiled.
“You have to tell me!” Suddenly, it seemed very important for me to know. “Where is he? Will I see him?”
Lee Bo laughed then. “I don’t know. I haven’t been home since October. We exchange an occasional letter, but last I heard, he was on duty in Gansu, his province.”
We arrived at the bottom of the bridge that led to a set of very tall gates. The gates stood between us and the rest of the street, flanked by two white stone dragons; they were probably guarding something important.
I smiled, imagining humble and soft-spoken Chiang Tse as an imposing official figure. “I am sure he’s governing well,” I said out loud. And added, without thinking much, “Do you usually have several wives?”
Lee Bo waited with me at the foot of the bridge until Kuan Yu and Liu Zhi caught up to us. “Under the Qing, yes. Taipings? Just one. Chiang Tse, however, doesn’t have any.”
I blushed without meaning to. “I was just curious, in general.”
“Of course,” Lee Bo said, thankfully not laughing. “In general. Customs of foreign lands are so confusing.” There was a hint of reproach in his voice.
“I thought it was the Chinese who wanted the foreigners to stay away. How do you expect us to know your customs?”
“I don’t.” Lee Bo’s eyes met mine, and I was taken aback by anger I saw in them. “But look around you — this is what happens when you let foreign ideas into a country.”
“I thought you supported the Taiping Tianguo.”
“I do, but that is beside the point. Remember the Qing are foreigners, and the Hakka are among the most ancient people of China, with its original language and customs.”
“I see,” I said, very softly. “But I hoped that being at the foreign university had some benefits for you.”
He looked at me as if he just saw me for the first time. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. But it hurts, to see it like this. And we keep arguing… ”
“Yes,” Kuan Yu said as he stood next to us on the steps. “Arguing, always arguing, and it’s always the same words that run around like water in a circle, wearing down the bedrock.”
“Yes,” Lee Bo agreed, and looked pensive. “Shall we? This is the imperial residence, the English call it the Forbidden City.”
I looked up to the place where the bridge ended at a flat square area just before the gates. Even though our view was largely blocked by the elevation of the bridge and the platform’s edges, it was still clear there were people there — I heard voices and clanging of metal.
“Who’s there?” I asked Lee Bo.
“Only one way to find out.”
He headed up the bridge, Kuan Yu and Liu Zhi catching up to him and flanking him, so that the three walked almost shoulder to shoulder, with Lee Bo a quarter of a step ahead of the others. Something about their formation made me suck the air through my swollen lips and move the satchel into my left hand, while my right rested lightly on the hilt. There were only four of us and unknown multitudes up and ahead — what reason did I have to be nervous?
The men standing in front of the high red walls were Taipings, about twenty in number, and I drew a relieved breath. Dirty and long-haired or not, they were our allies, and I worked hard at trying to like them.
One of the filthy men stopped us by thrusting a spear he held against Lee Bo’s chest sideways, like a gate.
Lee Bo stopped and said something in Chinese.
The man with the spear argued, and Kuan Yu joined in. The volume of their voices increased as the man with the spear only stood, feet planted wide of the chipped gray stone of the platform, and shook his head no.
A few others joined in, and Lee Bo shoved the spear away from his chest. This gesture was followed by further consternation and agitated hand waving. I looked from one group to another helplessly, hoping for some clue in addition to their outward hostility, something that would reassure me the argument would not end in bloodshed.
One of the other guards, a thin and sullen man with a beard long enough to brush against his rope belt, pointed at me. Even though I did not understand his words, I shook my head. “Not English,” I said, rather contradictorily, in English.
The Taipings around us closed ranks and pushed closer, forcing Lee Bo, Kuan Yu and Liu Zhi to push back, almost leaning into our attackers. I kept my hand on my hilt.