chapter 5

chapter 5

The Empress’s birthday, called the Festival of a Thousand Autumns, came a few days later. Titled ladies entered the palace to pay respects. I would not ordinarily have attended, but the Empress arranged a seat for me beside the Crown Princess.

Thus I beheld the most exalted woman in the world. She resembled an older Crown Princess.

Throughout the gathering, she merely listened to flattery, occasionally replying to mark degrees of intimacy. She neither spoke to me nor glanced my way.

Yet from the moment I sat beside the Crown Princess, I felt I was not sitting on a chair but weighing heavily upon her heart.

The room was small, and she sat close enough for me to see perspiration dampening the powder at her temples. A princess casually mentioned her two children. The Empress smiled. “Bring them next year and make my palace lively.”

The Crown Princess stilled for one second. What did she think then? Every woman tacitly looked toward her, some gloating, some pitying, their invisible gazes woven into a vast net.

She will fall through that net her entire life, I thought.

She showed nothing, merely raising her chin as if to give herself strength. “Yes. Then the little imperial grandchild can meet his brothers.”

The ladies laughed in agreement. The Empress’s lips curved slightly, and that tiny curve made the Crown Princess straighten her back.

Returning from Phoenix Rites Palace, Dicui walked as though her tail were raised. “Steady,” I said. “Don’t fall.”

“Talented Lady, what extraordinary favor! And you carried yourself so well.”

Was it truly favor? The Eastern Palace had been childless for years and admitted no newcomers. The Empress had probably long resented her daughter-in-law. I was merely a convenient stone she picked up to grind away the Crown Princess’s temper. Whether I became a thorn in the Crown Princess’s flesh did not concern her. Even the child in my belly mattered less than she pretended.

There were a hundred women who could bear the Crown Prince’s child. What the Empress truly needed was a tamed, obedient daughter-in-law.

But why make cheerful Dicui unhappy?

That evening, Jiang Shen came to talk. He spoke of a severe southern drought and poor harvests, and his memorial requesting tax relief.

“Is that even controversial?” I asked.

He paused. Taxes must be reduced, he explained, but they had to determine how, which levy to begin with, and whether this year’s shortfall could be recovered elsewhere.

“That does sound difficult,” I murmured.

“Never mind this. How was your visit to Mother? Did anyone trouble you?”

Shame abruptly consumed me. He discussed and managed state affairs while I could only ponder glances exchanged by the Empress and Crown Princess. Then I realized the modern woman still lingering inside me was causing it. She had competed in the same arena as Jiang Shen and had not lost. Now she looked upon me with boundless pity, and her gaze hurt.

Jiang Shen noticed. “Don’t be afraid. I can always protect you.”

That is not what I fear, Jiang Shen. You will never understand.

I forced a smile. “Are there court gazettes I might read?”

“Why?”

Pretending calm, though every word increased my unease, I said, “To understand things. When you don’t visit, I know nothing of the outside world.”

Even during my five common years it had not been so. In ordinary households, two people shared responsibility for parts of family life. I was being pampered—the word nearly made me laugh—and need think of nothing because thought served no purpose.

“That is easy,” Jiang Shen said. “But let no outsider see. The harem must not meddle in politics; someone might use it against you.”

I agreed, then asked, “Is there anything I can help you remember?”

He laughed. “If you had studied chemistry, perhaps. At this level of production, almost nothing we remember can be realized. I tried making penicillin when I arrived and still haven’t produced a safe culture.”

“I see.”

“Better to develop agriculture. When I… when the time comes, I can do much more.”

Five years as Crown Prince had taught him not even to say “when I become emperor” in private.

Watching his ambition, I felt dazed. When the time came, what could I do?

The Crown Princess acted swiftly. Dicui said she offered Jiang Shen one of her maids that very day, but he refused.

“What does the palace say?”

Dicui glanced around. “That Her Highness was stingy. She refused him concubines before, and now offers only a maid—not even a very pretty one.”

It was unwise. Judgments like that implied we believed we could do better. I would at least choose a girl of finer birth than myself to suppress me. Nor would I offer her directly: I would introduce her to the Empress and let the Empress bestow her, demonstrating loyalty while making refusal of a parental gift impossible. Then the silent contest between them would end neatly.

The Crown Princess had failed her test and perhaps lost an opportunity.

“What are you thinking? Don’t always frown,” Dicui said.

What indeed? I shook my head. “Be careful when gathering such news.”

She laughed. “Don’t fret, Talented Lady. You carry the imperial grandchild, and His Highness visits daily. Servants rush to warm themselves at our stove; no inquiry is needed before news comes flying.”

She poured pregnancy tea, changed my warmer, and smoothed the bed curtains, her steps so buoyant she nearly danced.

Though only we two were present, I felt excluded from the conversation. Suddenly I wished Jiang Shen would come quickly. I wanted—needed—to talk to him.

He did not come.

As expected, the Crown Princess had lost an opportunity. The Empress personally bestowed another Talented Lady on the Eastern Palace, a distant relative from her own clan.

Dicui evaded my questions, but finally admitted the newcomer was surnamed Xu and probably very beautiful, judging by Dicui’s terrified silence.

“Why are you so afraid? I won’t strike you.”

Tears sprang from her eyes. “Please don’t grieve, Talented Lady. Think of the child.”

Grief was not what I felt. Strangely, impossibly, my first response was delight that I had correctly guessed the Empress’s intention, as though I had labored over a problem and received full marks. Then I had to recognize how base that mentality was.

Looking at Dicui, I suddenly pitied her for having such an abnormal mistress, one she could never fully read.

No—why did that make her pitiable? Was slavery not enough?

Dizzy again, I asked to take air in the courtyard.

Jiang Shen still did not visit that night, but a maid brought me a box containing pink-jade earrings.

We had seen a similar pair in a museum. I loved them, photographed them, and joked that he should buy them. Jiang Shen said stealing them from the museum was more likely. He later gave me many earrings, but I never knew he remembered this trifle.

“His Highness requests one word from you,” the maid said.

“Is he waiting?”

She hesitated, then nodded. Despite concealment, her gaze betrayed bewilderment: why did Jiang Shen wait, and why for someone like me?

A woman’s fate hung upon my answer. My tongue felt impossibly heavy.

I wanted to say: Jiang Shen, do not give me this illusory power, as though I truly govern anything. It will destroy me.

And: If I refuse, will you truly never enter another woman’s room—even the Crown Princess’s? Whom do this ritual and these earrings still serve?

But a maid could receive only one answer.

“Tell His Highness I thank him for the gift… and he need not trouble himself further for me.”

I smiled serenely, had Dicui store the earrings, and tipped the messenger.

The maid thanked me and left. Leaning against the threshold, I watched her lantern vanish into the narrow night between high walls. The darkness was immense; that single point of light soon disappeared.

By spring, my pregnancy was stable. Jiang Shen planned another trip to the western hills and offered to take me.

I truly wanted to go out.

I rode with the other princes’ families while the men galloped ahead. Second Prince brought a crowd of gorgeously competing concubines, as though they wished to stick flowers on their carriages. Many asked to greet me; Dicui refused them all.

“Won’t they think it rude?”

Propping cushions behind me, Dicui said, “What are they? Are they worthy of troubling you?”

Growing bolder after long service, she lectured me: I was too cautious; one could not consider everyone’s feelings. These women disturbed a pregnant lady and therefore meant no good. I should ignore them.

“The long days are merely… dull,” I sighed. Meeting someone new would be pleasant. I almost believed the Crown Princess had sincerely meant those words when I arrived.

Dicui drew the curtain and looked solemn. “Talented Lady, what happened between you and His Highness?

“When he comes, you scarcely speak. Instead of telling him things, you seek others. Forgive this servant’s boldness, but how can you be bored when His Highness is here?”

Speechless, I covered my face with my book. Dicui continued, “Whatever happened, he still chose to bring you. You must turn your heart back…”

“Mm,” I muttered beneath the book.

The western hills were beautiful. Jiang Shen’s party went first to the hunting ground. I could walk near the tents until they finished and he took me up the mountain. Unfortunately, after a short walk, I needed to relieve myself.

I retained certain poor habits, such as disliking attendants nearby when I used the toilet. The maids knew. Only Dicui waited beyond tall grass, calling periodically for my answer.

From there I saw the hunting ground’s edge and the guards’ yellow banners. Apart from the main road, a narrow white track wound down through green slopes.

I touched my belly. At five months the child was still small. I had padded my body with cotton beforehand.

Do not blame Mother, I thought.

Then I rolled down the hillside.