“How old is she?” he asked.

  “About two months,” I replied.

  “What is her name?”

  “She doesn’t have one yet,” I said.

  The prince chuckled. “Why? What do you call her?”

  “Little Baby. I couldn’t decide. I didn’t know if she should have a Manchu name.”

  The prince shook his head. “If she is to live here, she should just be Chinese. Besides, most Manchu take Chinese names now.”

  “Well, most Chinese names are flowers, or ‘fragrant’ or ‘kindness’ or something. They are very boring.”

  “You said she came into the world like a tiger. Maybe something like that.”

  “Tiger names are usually boy names,” I explained.

  “I don’t care. She can still be a tiger.”

  “What about ‘Fragrant Tiger’?”

  “Do tigers smell nice?” the prince asked with a laugh. “Maybe tiger and flower?”

  “‘Huhua’ sounds strange,” I said.

  “What about “Hulan’?” he asked. “When Empress Cixi was first appointed as a concubine, the emperor gave her the name ‘Orchid’.”

  “Lan?” I asked. “That is a pretty name.”

  “She hated it,” he said. “Which is why she had it changed to ‘Yi’ as soon as her son was born and my brother made her second consort.”

  “So you want to give the baby a name the empress hated?”

  “It might be a nice homage to her, even if she will never know about it.”

  “‘Hulan’. Our little Tiger Orchid. I like it,” I said.

  “‘Hulan,” my prince repeated.

  17

  The Forbidden City, 1865-1868

  By the summer of that year, Empress Cixi ordered me to return to court. I could no longer ignore her summons without consequences. Hulan was thriving. Smiling, playing, getting fat cheeks. I was surprised that I didn’t want to leave her behind, but I had no choice. I had to return to the empress and could not take a baby with me. Lady Tang hired a nurse to live at the school and raise the child. She had made arrangements with Prince Gong to send him regular updates, which he would then inform me about. I knew that I would have very little say in the girl’s upbringing, but I did have one request for Lady Tang.

  “Don’t bind her feet,” I said as Lady Tang walked me to the gate to leave the school for the last time.

  “But it is tradition. Everyone expects it from our girls. They must be the highest quality,” she protested.

  “I understand that. And I know my life would not have turned out this way if my feet had not been bound. But the world is changing. I fear we are facing a future where bound feet will be a burden and not a blessing. The Manchu hate it. The foreigners hate it. As China moves forward, such traditions will be done away with.”

  “The Manchus are not Chinese,” she replied indignantly. “The foreigners are not Chinese. Should we change all our ways just because outsiders don’t understand them?”

  “What is the purpose?” I asked. “If it wasn’t for tradition, why do it? In what way does having bound feet improve a woman’s life? Does it make her smarter? Make her embroidery better? Help her ride a horse?”

  Lady Tang crossed her arms and her nostrils flared.

  “I hope you will raise my daughter to respect all of our traditions,” I continued, “except this one. She is half Manchu. She might never know it, but she is. In this one thing, she can follow the traditions of her father.”

  Lady Tang still refused to speak, but I knew she would comply. One of the guards helped me mount my horse.

  “Thank you, Lady Tang. I can never show adequate appreciation for all you have done for me,” I said.

  She gave me a small nod as I turned out my horse and headed for Peking. As we crossed the bridge over Orange Island, though, I knew I had to make one more stop – I had to return home. I could not travel so far and not at least see if my parents were still alive. I told my escorts about the change of plans, and they agreed that we could make the short stop, but we would have to be back on the road soon.

  As we left the city of Changsha and traveled deeper into the countryside, the more I felt dread grow in my stomach. The cobblestone street turned to mud, the tall buildings became one-story hovels. I had nearly forgotten just how far I had risen.

  As our horses trotted down the lane where I grew up, though, things changed. The road was wider and the houses got bigger. The children who ran by were still dirty, as children will be, but they wore nice clothes and shoes. When we finally arrived at the place where my childhood home once sat, a mansion large enough to rival Lady Tang’s school stood before me. I am sure my mouth was agape as I climbed down from my horse.

  I walked up to the front door and knocked. A young woman I didn’t recognize answered. “Is Yang Zhu here?” I asked. The girl nodded and went back inside.

  “Mistress Yang,” I heard her call.

  Mistress Yang? I wondered. Did Mother have a maid of her own?

  The door opened wide and Mother stood before me. She looked much older. She was still sturdy and stood up straight, but her face had more lines and her hair was nearly white. Her clothes were quite fine, high-quality silk, but hung off her thin frame and she still didn’t wear shoes on her big, flat feet. The family had obviously done well in my absence, but Mother was little more than a peasant in a lady’s gown. I tried to hide my surprise as I bowed to her.

  “Ma,” I said. “How I have missed you.”

  “Don’t lie, Yaqian,” she said. “It doesn’t become you.” She turned her back to me and went into the house. She left the door open, though, meaning she wanted me to follow.

  The large room was sparsely decorated. A big table with a few chairs around it sat to one side. Three little boys and an older man were sitting and talking. Several books were spread out on the table. Mother walked over to them and ordered them all outside.

  “Go catch some frogs for dinner,” she said. The boys hooted and hollered as they jumped from their chairs and ran out the door.

  The old man sighed as he followed them slowly. “I’ve now lost them for the rest of the day, Mistress Yang,” he said.

  “Go home and rest,” she said. “Start fresh tomorrow.” He gave a slight bow before he picked up a few of the books and then left.

  Mother stacked the rest of the books and then sat at the table. She motioned for me to sit. “Well, why are you here?” she asked. “Did the empress dismiss you? You can’t come back here if she did.”

  “It certainly looks as though you have the room if I needed a place to stay,” I said as I sat.

  Mother waved her hand dismissively. “It’s so crowded with so many boys and the servants and all the extended family always dropping by. I have no privacy.”

  “So the concubine was…productive?” I asked.

  “Fertile as a dog!” Mother exclaimed. “Three boys in three years. Not a worthless girl among them. May have worn her out, though. No babies in the last five years. No matter, though. Three is plenty.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “They are so much work in my old age. And so expensive. Clothes and that tutor and they eat like pigs.”

  “At least you have the concubine here to help.”

  “That worthless bitch? She does nothing. Her and your father just eat opium all day. They did their job and now they have abandoned us. In the city for days on end lost in a fog.”

  “How can they afford it?” I asked. Opium habits were not cheap.

  “We get by,” she said. “Your father was smart at first. He invested the money the emperor gave us and bought more land and more mulberry trees. Then he bought a small building and equipment to extract the silk ourselves. So now, instead of selling the silkworm cocoons we sell the silk. Along with the money and embroidery pieces you send us, we are comfortable. The boys will help grow the business when they get older. Maybe one will get a government job if he takes the exams.”

  “I’m glad things have worked out for you.”

  “We all have our part to play, Yaqian. Your job was to leave to make way for your brothers. The fortune teller said boys would be in your future. She was right. I thought she was just saying what I wanted to hear, since I had to pay her for her services, but she was right.”

  “They aren’t my brothers,” I said. “They aren’t my future.”

  “They are the only future you have,” she said. “You are too old to marry and have children of your own. What else is there to live for? What is the point of having money or a job if there is nothing after you?”

  “I am very successful,” I said. “I am a master artisan in the employ of the empress. I created a new embroidery style. Foreigners from all over the world buy my artwork. Hopefully I will be remembered for that.”

  “None of that matters,” she said. “Family is everything. The only thing. You should invest in your brothers. Help send them to better schools and get them employed in the Forbidden City.”

  “Why is it of value for them to work in the Forbidden City but not me?”

  “Because they can still marry and have children, you dumb girl. They will build a name and earn titles that they can pass on for generations.”

  “I don’t see any value in that,” I said. “What good is that after they are dead?”

  “Don’t you know anything about tradition and the afterlife? Only sons can burn incense at your tomb when you are gone.”

  “I have money to buy incense and fingers to light matches,” I said. “I can burn incense for you.”

  “The gods won’t listen to you. They won’t accept your offerings or hear your prayers.”

  “So I am nothing?” I asked. “I fulfilled my duty by making a way for you to have sons and now I am worthless?”

  “You can support your brothers,” she said. “That is how you can still be of use to your family.”

  I thought about little Hulan and how I imagined her future, so free and bright. Mother had lived her whole life for nothing but the men in her life – her father, her husband, and now her sons. She didn’t know that a life could be fulfilling for a woman without a man. She wouldn’t believe me if I tried to explain it to her. I wondered if her opinion would change if she knew I did have a daughter, but I decided that would only make things worse. I was a whore who had a child without marriage, a worthless daughter no less. I would be shamed and such knowledge would give her power over me. She could threaten to tell the empress what I had done.

  I decided I no longer belonged in my mother’s house. My duty to her was complete – I had given her sons. I wished her a long and happy life and took my leave. I thought about Mother often on my journey home, but I never wrote to her again. I also vowed to never send her more money or embroidery work to sell. My life in Hunan was at an end.

  * * *

  Something was wrong. I had no idea what, but there was a tension in the air as I walked through the Forbidden City for the first time in what felt like ages.

  I went straight to the empress’s palaces. She was sitting in her main hall, a stack of papers on her desk waiting for her to deal with. This was not the lazy, pampered concubine I had served years before, but a busy woman of State with a never-ending list of demands for her attention. I entered the main hall, bent at the waist. One of the eunuchs announced me. I went forward, got down on my knees, and then kowtowed before her.

  “You finally decide to grace me with your presence, Yaqian?” she asked.

  I sat up so she could clearly hear me speak. “It was torture to be away from you for so long, Your Majesty,” I replied. “But I return to you as a master embroiderer. I hope to only bring you honor and praise for the rest of my days.”

  “Well, at least your absence was not a total waste, then,” she replied. She sat for a moment, wanting to say more, but not in the presence of so many others. She finally waved her hand to send them away and motioned for me to come to her side. I sat on a small stool near her.

  “I have been without a friend or confidant for too long, Yaqian. There is no one I can trust,” she said in a low voice.

  I didn’t reply, only looked concerned. I was surprised she still thought so highly of me.

  “Prince Gong has nearly abandoned me,” she said. “He loves the foreigners and that stupid school more than me.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said.

  “Tongwen College,” she said. “He said he no longer wishes to serve as Prince-Regent, but wishes to be magistrate of the school. Can you believe such arrogance? To think he can just walk away from the throne? The emperor? Me? Being regent is not something you can just walk away from. No more than I can stop being empress. How can he be so selfish?”

  “I do not know, Your Majesty,” I said. “I have heard nothing of this. I have been so far away.”

  “The other grandees are furious at me. And it’s all his fault! It was his idea to start teaching science and math and foreign books. It was his idea to start hiring foreigners as teachers! How could I have been so stupid as to agree with him? Foreigners as teachers? The highest position of respect and honor? Foreigners! But I’ve already done it. I can’t back down now. I have to support him. But the other grandees, the lords, the literati, the students, they all hate me and think I am elevating Westerners and Western thought above Chinese and Manchu traditions.”

  I let her rant on and on while I listened. Of course, I knew that Prince Gong saw a value in adopting some Western ways. And the school had been established to educate the next generation as translators and emissaries to the West. As China faced the future, interaction with the West was inevitable. But it appeared that Prince Gong had overstepped his bounds. By wanting to adopt too many Western ways too fast, he had made many enemies, and was alienating the empress from the rest of the court.

  “Did you know he doesn’t even kowtow in my presence anymore?” she asked. I shook my head. “If he was any other man, I would have him put to death for such impunity!”

  “Your Majesty,” I said, calmly, yet with a hint of warning. I had to chastise her against such words without actually speaking against her.

  “I know, I know,” she said. “I never would. He is far too important. But it makes me look weak. He treats me like a little girl!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. The empress was around thirty years old at this time, which was young for an empress, but Prince Gong was only two years older.

  “This entire court is young,” I replied. “It does not have the benefit of gray hairs.” As part of her coup, the empress executed, banished, or dismissed the majority of the established court. The court she appointed in its place was mainly young men.

  The empress sighed. “And my son will take the dragon throne officially as emperor when he is even younger. Can you believe he is already nine years old?”

  I shook my head. It did seem as though only yesterday I had heard the news of his birth and started sewing little tiger shoes for him.

  “We will have to start preparing for his wedding soon,” she lamented.

  “Do not burden yourself with such faraway thoughts,” I said.

  She nodded. “You are right. I have too many burdens now. Chiefly, what to do about Prince Gong? He is ruining my reputation. Causing divisions in the court. I must get rid of him.”

  “Then send him away,” I said. “Let him run the school if he so wishes.”

  “But then I will be here alone. How can I run a kingdom without his guidance?”

  “You are more than capable, Your Majesty,” I replied. “It was your idea to overthrow Sushun and his council in the first place. You only involved Prince Gong to give you more authority. Maybe you don’t need his authority anymore. Take the reins yourself.”

  “Do you really think I can?”

  I nodded. “And if you can’t, it will only be for a little while. The emperor will take the throne in only a few years.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Won’t it make you sad if Prince Gong is not a regular here in the palace anymore?”

  I did my best to ignore her implication. I did worry about how I would get letters from Lady Tang about my baby if I could not see the prince, but at this moment, I needed to worry about his safety.

  “I am sure all the palace ladies will miss seeing the prince strutting around here. But that is a small price to pay if it means you can reassert your authority with the other grandees.”

  The empress nodded and then went on to ask me about my embroidery work and my new status as a master. She was quite proud to have me back in her household and asked me to work on making double-sided embroidery pieces she could have framed and sent as gifts to foreign grandees and dignitaries.

  I did not see Prince Gong for a long time after I arrived back at the Forbidden City. I was not present when he was dismissed. A little while later, though, a new eunuch arrived, and he took a keen interest in me. He was only fourteen years old and had quite a lovely face and pleasant demeanor. He was called Liujian, which meant something like “the strength of a willow tree.” It was a contradiction, since willow trees were known for bending their will to the wind, but it reminded me of Hulan, and how her name was unconventional as well. Living in the palace, it was easy to dislike and distrust eunuchs, but Liujian was like a sweet and innocent child. He was easy to adore. I would often see him watching me from a distance, as if building his courage to approach me. I would always smile or pretend I couldn’t see him even though we both knew I did.

  One day, he cautiously approached me. I looked up at him and he dropped a letter in my lap before running away again. I opened the letter, and it was from Lady Tang. Over time, Liujian snuck several letters to me, and he became more comfortable approaching me. I found out that Prince Gong had paid his debt to his family – all eunuchs started life in debt because of their operation and their schooling – in exchange for his loyalty. He smuggled in the letters to me and smuggled my replies back out. I have no idea how he managed it, and I didn’t want to know, but I was grateful he could.