My sister had been bedridden and had refused my visits. Rong had insisted that I was the cause of her illness, so I had sent Lan in my place.
"I know you are not here to talk about my sister," I said to Lan. "All I can tell you is that Guang-hsu is under great pressure."
Lan shook her head, setting the ornaments in her hair fluttering. "He needs to spend time with me."
"I can't force him, Lan."
"Yes, you can, Aunt, if you truly care about me."
I felt guilty and promised her that I would try again. I moved Lan and her household to a compound right behind Guang-hsu's, using the termite problem as a pretext. My thinking was that the couple could visit each other through a connected archway door. But the very next day, Guang-hsu blocked the passage with furniture. When Lan had the furniture removed, Guang-hsu issued an order for the doorway to be permanently sealed with bricks.
In the meantime, I could see that Guang-hsu was falling in love with his Pearl Concubine, who had just turned nineteen and was a stunning beauty. Her curiosity and intelligence reminded me of my own youth. I was fond of her because she inspired Guang-hsu to live up to the nation's expectations.
I felt sorry for Lan when she tried to compete with Pearl. Lan carried too much of my brother's blood. She had ambition but not the will to realize it. When she threatened to commit suicide, Guang-hsu only became more disgusted with her.
I called Kuei Hsiang for help, but he said, "You are the matchmaker, sister Orchid. You have to fix it."
I arranged a tea party for just the three of us. When Lan insisted that Guang-hsu taste the peach cake she had made for him, he became fretful and got up to leave. I touched his elbow and said, "Let's take a walk in the garden." I fell in behind them, hoping that they would start a conversation. But Guang-hsu kept his distance, as if his wife carried a disease. Lan held on to her pride and kept silent.
"You have to make a choice, Lan," I said after Guang-hsu had left to attend a court function. "You were aware that things might not go as you wished. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did." My niece wiped her face with a handkerchief. "I believed that my love would change him."
"Well, he hasn't changed. You must accept that."
"What am I going to do?"
"Get busy with your duties as Empress. Conduct ceremonies and pay homage to the ancestors. You can also do what I do: learn about the world and try to be helpful."
"Will that lead me to the affection of Guang-hsu?"
"I don't know," I replied. "But you should never deprive yourself of the possibility."
Lan began her apprenticeship with me. First, I assigned her to read a recent report on the death of Queen Min of Korea.
"'Led by informers, the Japanese agents forced their way into the palace of the Queen.'" Lan gasped, covering her mouth with her handkerchief.
"Keep going, Lan," I instructed.
"'After… after murdering two of her ladies in waiting, they cornered Queen Min. The minister of the royal household came to her rescue, but the intruders lopped off both his hands with a sword…'" Lan was horrified. "What… what about her bodyguards? Where were they?"
"They must have been killed or trapped or bought off," I replied. "Go on and finish, Lan."
"'Queen Min was stabbed repeatedly and was carried outside…'" Lan went on reading, but her voice was no longer audible. She turned toward me with her head leaning to one side, like a puppet with a broken string.
"What happened?" I asked.
"The Japanese set a pile of firewood doused with kerosene outside her courtyard."
"And then?"
"They threw her on top of it and lit the torch." Lan's lips trembled.
I took the report back from her and placed it on my desk.
Lan sat silently, as if frozen. After a while she rose and walked out like a ghost.
Lan never again threatened suicide, although she continued to complain about her husband. She believed that she didn't have to learn the court's business, but that did not stop her fantasies of being worshiped by the nation. She never shared the bed of the Emperor or made friends with Pearl. She pursued longevity, cosseted herself and spent time with Pearl's sister, Lustrous Concubine, who was the opposite of Pearl. Lustrous had little interest in much of anything. She loved food and could sit around daintily nibbling all day.
On June 18, 1896, Rong died. It was after she accused her doctors of poisoning her. Her mental illness became known to the court, so my decision of years before to bar her from visiting Guang-hsu was now understood. The unfortunate thing was that the Emperor was now considered the son of an insane woman, and the Clan Council used this excuse to start thinking about his replacement.
I was sick of the infighting among the Manchu princes, the brothers and cousins who seemed to share nothing but greed and hatred. When I tried to explain the great affection between Emperor Hsien Feng and Prince Kung, the young Ironhats grew bored. In splendid court robes this generation of royal Manchus fought like a pack of wolves over residences, sinecures and annual stipends.
I lost my temper at a family gathering during my sister's funeral. It had to do with the fact that I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Rong-her revenge. And the grousing among Prince Ch'un Junior and his Ironhat gang over their inheritances hit my nerves and I exploded.
"Your mother's death means that you will no longer be shielded." I spoke in a cold voice. "The next time you offend the throne, I will not hesitate to order your removal, and if you defy me, your execution."
Ch'un knew that I meant what I said-after all, I had executed Su Shun, the former grand councilor, and his powerful gang.
My harsh words put a stop to the bickering, and I was left alone.
Laying my cheek against Rong's coffin, I remembered the two walnuts she placed in my palm the day I departed home for the Forbidden City. I regretted that I hadn't tried harder to care for her. She had succumbed to her illness, but there had been moments of lucidity and affection. I wondered if she knew of the marital troubles of Guang-hsu and Lan. I would never know her feelings. How I missed talking with her when we were girls! I wished I could talk to Kuei Hsiang, commiserate together, but he was not interested. To my brother, Rong's death was a relief.
Lan and Guang-hsu looked like a harmonious couple at Rong's funeral. After bowing toward the coffin together, they tossed golden grain toward the sky. It made me think that I should not give up hope.
Throughout our recent troubles, Yung Lu had continued working alongside Li Hung-chang, strengthening the army. During this time we seldom met; he was determined not to breathe life into any rumors about us that might compromise his efforts on the throne's behalf. I had to be satisfied with reports of his whereabouts from Li.
But one morning Yung Lu came to me to request permission to leave his current position as commander in chief of the army to head up the nation's navy. I granted his wish, knowing that he must have thought through the decision, but I warned him that many would regard his transfer as a demotion.
"I never live by others' principles" was his response.
"The navy has been having great difficulty since Li Hung-chang's departure abroad," I reminded him.
"That's exactly why I want the job."
"Li had said to me, 'It takes a man of Yung Lu's stature to influence the navy.' Did he suggest your move?"
"Yes, he did."
I tried not to think that Yung Lu's new duties would take him even more often away from Peking.
"Who will be your replacement?" I asked.
"Yuan Shih-kai. He will report to me directly." I was well aware of Yuan's qualifications, of course. As a young general he had fought the Japanese and succeeded in keeping peace in Korea for ten years.
"Then you will be working two jobs."