Rumor had it that the sovereign liked fat women with double chins: I was upset that I was thin. The young girls competed over their jewels, their dresses, and their extravagances. They spent the money given to them by their families on frenzied orders. I had been robbed of my jewels to pay for my cousins’ careers. My brothers had sent me nothing. When Mother managed to send me a few small coins, I knew she had secretly sold another of her Buddhist statuettes, the only things of value she still owned. This money made me weep. How could I spend it to buy a pretty hairpin?
Winter came, and the first snow fell on the Side Court. Icicles hanging from the awnings and footprints left in the frost by the birds awakened my dormant energy. Our timetable recommended practicing sport in this season. With my coat thrown off, my sleeves pushed up, and wearing my Tatar boots, I launched myself into the snow. My strength and enthusiasm amazed the Palace intendant instructing us. He suggested I take the archery lessons that were offered to volunteers accompanying the sovereign on his hunting trips.
All the suffering I had endured melted away when I mounted a horse with the brand of the imperial stables. On the archery range, which had been swept of snow, I galloped with the urgency of a blind man hurtling toward a distant thread of light. The wind slapped my face, and the sky whipped up my thoughts. The speed freed me from the torments of frustration, and I felt my pride blossoming once more. Far from the crowd of women, the painted faces, and the affected smiles, I rediscovered the powerful pleasure of being alone.
Before the end of the year, I received my official gowns. In the absence of an Empress, the Precious Wife led the Ladies of the Inner Court and the Ladies of the Outer Court in prostrating themselves before His Majesty to give him their best wishes. Palace etiquette required us to walk with small steps and lowered eyes. Because my rank entitled me to a place far from the throne, during the salutation, I could just see a dark smudge with something resembling a face obscured by a glittering crown.
Back in the Side Court, everyone said that the Emperor wanted to meet his new mistresses and would name a date on which he would receive them. The thought of this put the Pavilion of Celestial Breath into a frenzy of excitement. Soon, one of the Great Intendants told us of the imperial summons. The day before the presentation I could not sleep. Even though I had galloped all afternoon and shot two quivers of a dozen arrows, I felt neither tired nor appeased. A thousand times I went over what I would wear, practiced my walk, and prepared answers in case His Majesty deigned to ask me anything. A thousand times I imagined my joy and pride if I were the chosen one. Mother could forget her poverty and sorrow: No one would dare humiliate her any more. As an imperial favorite and promoted to a superior rank, I would ask for permission for her to visit with Little Sister. When I bore a prince, Mother, as Royal Grandmother, would be given a palace with countless servants. As I shared my pillow with the Son of Heaven, I would remind him that Father had been a Veteran of the dynasty, companion in war to the Noble Emperor Lordly Forebear. I would beg him to grant him a posthumous title as Great Lord of the first rank.
I tried in vain to calm my teeming hopes. The more I laughed at my extravagant dreams, the more desperately I longed to reach this man coveted by his ten thousand serving women. No, I wanted neither privilege, nor favor, nor glory. I was indifferent to gold, pearls, and sumptuous palaces. I would ask nothing of the sovereign other than to be saved from this fate that condemned me to wither in silence and die, drowning in a swamp of women.
The Son of Heaven was an invincible warrior. Thanks to his dazzling victories, Emperor Lordly Forebear had been able to dethrone Sovereign Yang and inaugurate our Tang dynasty. Throughout the Empire, the people sang of his eventful battles. Recently, during the campaign against the Turks of the East, he had subjugated the barbarian leader with just one war cry. I imagined His Majesty to be powerfully built with a square face and a wide forehead. I pictured him with an intimidating glare, forceful gestures, a loud voice, and a long, well-tended beard. I did not know what I should do once in the imperial bed. We had been told we had to allow him to undress us. Would I have the strength to hold the gaze of a man who had looked Tatars in the eye? What would I feel when he touched my body with the hand that had severed thousands of heads?
I wanted him to be my freedom; I wanted him to be the luminous star throwing its light on my forehead; I wanted him to be that height toward which all my energy would be drawn so that all my ardor and devotion would be beautiful and pure.
THE OFFICERS OF protocol shouted orders in their shrill voices. The Beauties of the fourth rank, the Talented Ones of the fifth rank, and the Treasures of the sixth rank lined up in hierarchical order.
Then silence descended. We stood and waited for the Emperor who was on his way back from the Morning Salutation. Rays of sunlight filtered through the lattice-work of the closed windows and fell on the gleaming black paving stones of the floor, hundreds of wilted flowers.
At the foot of the throne, on a scarlet carpet embroidered with dragons in gold thread, sandalwood burned in three-legged bronze stoves. But the cold was a powerful eagle hovering between the beams and columns, breathing icily over us, scouring our cheeks with its wings of iron. Eyes lowered, hands clasped inside my sleeves, and bent slightly forward, I stood rigidly in the pose of respectful expectation. Time dripped past in the hydraulic clock. My hair was woven together with false hair and wound so tightly around a structure with bronze thread that it tugged at my scalp. My topknot, a cubit and a half high and decorated with five tree-shaped jewels in gold, rubies, sapphires, and other gemstones, symbols of my rank, was weighing me down. The pain crept down my back, my legs, and my arms. I shook from head to toe.
The sounds of a great commotion began, far away at first. Footsteps, coughing, then someone came into the hall. The officer of protocol announced, “The sovereign is preparing to leave the Palace of Audiences!” A wave of panic ran through the group of women who struggled to keep still. Little cries escaped from a few constricted throats. One young girl fainted. Another started to sob. Both were carried out by eunuchs.
Suddenly the musicians struck the bronze bells and sounding stones. The side doors were drawn aside, and two servants dressed in yellow brocade raised the curtains and held them back with gold-plated forked rods. An ice-cold wind filled the hall. After a long time had passed, two valets came in with incense burners and stood to the left and right of the throne. There was another long pause. Two more eunuchs appeared, carrying long-handled, round fans. The imperial servants filed in two by two, then a strident voice cut through the silence: “The Noble Sovereign of the great Tang dynasty!”
My blood froze. I fell to my knees with my forehead on the ground. The accelerated fluttering of my heart mingled with the endless rustling of satin and silk soles rubbing against the carpet, like an impetuous and inexhaustible mountain stream. At the request of the caller, I stood back up but fell to my knees again before making the great curtsey. When I recovered from the dizzying effect of the salutations, I could see through the corners of my eyes that all the candelabras had been lit. There were countless eunuchs around the throne, some carrying the long-handled fans that denoted imperial rank, others holding more everyday objects: towels, boxes of food, glasses, jugs, and bowls.
The General Intendant of the Side Court called forward the ladies of the Court by order of hierarchy and seniority. Waves of heat surged through me. I was covered in sweat. I was afraid my makeup would run, afraid I would not hear my name, afraid I would faint. I was afraid the Emperor would choose a girl ranked before me and that my one chance would vanish before it even arrived.
All of a sudden I heard: “Daughter of Wu Shi Yue, from the district of Wen Shui, in the province of Bing, Talented One Wu.”
My head buzzed. I stepped forward, eyes lowered. I made my way slowly toward the throne, and my thighs quaked beneath my dress. At the exact distance required by protocol, facing the imperial dais, I carried out the three great prostrations. At some stage in the proceedings- and I have no idea how because to look at the sovereign constituted a crime punishable by death-I glimpsed a man wrapped in a yellowish brown tunic. He wore a simple headdress of glazed white linen. I managed to make out his features in his puffy, listless face. I was overcome by a feeling of disappointment more icy than the North Wind.
One after another, all the girls were presented to the sovereign who remained silent through the entire ceremony. Each of us was accorded the same amount of time; no one was gratified with a nod, a smile, or a request to come forward and show her face. Once back in the Side Court, I spent the whole rest of the day thinking of that huge, tall hall full of mysterious frescoes. Had the Son of Heaven looked at us at all? I was not sure he had. In any event, up on his throne, how could he have seen the women’s faces under their imposing headdresses when they had to keep their heads lowered and their eyes fixed humbly on the ground?
The moon was waning in the sky. Soon it would perish only to be born again. I discovered that Talented One Xu would be received in the imperial bed. A peculiar emotion paralyzed my body like a poison. I scarcely listened to the rumors that claimed the selection had been rigged. As soon as she had arrived at the Palace, Talented One Xu had been under the wing of the Great Chamberlain who came from the same province. This eunuch, who enjoyed the sovereign’s complete trust, had engineered for all the names to be erased from the roll-call so that only his candidate was taken to the Palace of Precious Dew.
The new favorite left the Side Court where the living conditions were no longer in keeping with her rank, and she moved into the Middle Court. Something in me had died. I discovered Taoist texts that told of the purification of mind and body, of men who had become immortal, and of union with the celestial breath. I went back to my daily routine of prayers to Buddha, which had stopped when I arrived in the Palace. The world was an illusion, and all desire a source of suffering. How could I have forgotten the teachings of the Great One?
Like the moon, I would be reborn of annihilation.
THE PAVILION OF Celestial Breath closed its doors, and my young companions dispersed, each to her official duties.
The everyday life of a lady at Court was filled with banquets, dancing, and concerts; with the sequence of seasons that required changes of wardrobe; with constant trips between summer palaces and winter residences; with futile events and serious ones; and with light-hearted ceremonies and imposing ones.
The six ministries and twenty-four departments of the imperial gynaeceum had been created during the ancient Zhou dynasty, and each had a share in organizing festivities. There were pavilions that served as offices to the Great Lady Intendants, who directed countless female officials. All of them worked to make our life harmonious and pleasant. In the absence of an Empress, the Precious Wife reigned over our kingdom. She was a weak, gentle character and felt happier entrusting command to her favorite eunuch, General Intendant, in her palace. According to the rules, the four wives of the first rank were responsible for how the women behaved. Not one of these ladies deigned to be soiled by such involvement, and all of them delegated their power.
The duties of a Talented One were to keep records of feasting and days of rest, as well as ensuring that the silk worms were reared satisfactorily. Even though they were paltry tasks, I relied on these occupations to escape boredom. On the very first day, Governess informed me that she would free me from such minor concerns and explained that, from the fifth rank up, it was a woman’s duty to be at leisure.
Painted beams, gilded partitions, and fragrant powders entwined us like ivy around trees. This dull, slow life stifled our youth. The freshness and vivacity drained from my companions and me without our knowing when or how. The Court had a liking for fat women, so my companions crammed themselves with food. Their transparent white skin quivered over ample folds of fat. They spent their days perfecting their hair and makeup. Their daily walk through the Northern Gardens was becoming a ritual, and they would spend this time comparing their beauty and exchanging gossip. To escape the loneliness and monotony, some had pet cats and dogs, while others formed friendships and called each other “sister.”
There were women everywhere in the Side Court. They trod softly along the galleries, appeared and disappeared behind screens, and let their silhouettes linger on the partitions covered in rice paper. The servants observed a respectful silence, but the mistresses needed to chatter constantly to kill their boredom. A closed door or a secured shutter was tantamount to some inadmissible act, so all the bedrooms had to remain open for impromptu visits. Throughout the day, groups of Court ladies would appear from nowhere, expecting me to offer them tea and to listen to their chattering.
I found refuge in the Inner Institute of Letters where learned eunuchs gave lessons in literature, philosophy, history, geography, astrology, and mathematics to the few students who voluntarily attended their lectures. Books became wings that bore me far away from the Palace. The annals of former dynasties tore me from the immobility of the present. I lived in those vanished kingdoms and I took part in plots, galloped across battlefields, and shared in the rise and fall of heroes.
I visited the library regularly, and I sometimes would run into Talented One Xu, who had already been promoted to the rank of Delicate Concubine of the second imperial rank. I now had to give her a deep curtsey, and she replied with a condescending nod. Her body had thickened, her expression darkened. Her face had lost its poetic naivete. When she smiled at me, I could see a vague melancholy on her lips that seemed to express resentment and resignation. I longed to ask her questions but did not dare. A Delicate Concubine would never confide in a Talented One of inferior rank.