“Turn it over,” I said, gloomily.

  “Aiya!” she exclaimed, looking at me wide-eyed.

  For the first time in all the years I had known her, it seemed that she did not have a perfect way to respond planned out. She looked from the leaf to me and back to the leaf. She started to speak, but she stammered. She sat down in the nearest chair, hard, not with the easy grace she normally possessed.

  I sat up straight, at least pleased to have gotten such a reaction out of her, even if my experiment was a failure.

  “Yaqian,” she finally said. “Do you know what you have done?”

  I shook my head. She looked at me and seemed to finally realize that I was not happy at all, but miserable. She straightened her back and pursed her lips as she composed herself.

  “Yaqian, this is…extraordinary.”

  I got the feeling that “extraordinary” was not the word she wanted to use. She didn’t want to stroke my ego or let on just how important my work was, but she could not find another word. I sat up straight, but I am sure my confusion was clear on my face.

  “Embroidery on both sides of the cloth. I have never seen such a thing,” she explained. “I didn’t think it was possible. You are a very skilled embroiderer, but you have been working on this for two days and have only completed a very rudimentary leaf. It would take you forever to finish this piece. But you did it! That is the important thing. Do you think Confucius wrote the annals in a day? Or the emperor built the Forbidden City in a month? It does not matter how long it takes to accomplish something great, only that the accomplishment is made.”

  “So…you don’t think I am a failure?” I asked.

  “A failure?” She laughed. “Of course not! This might not look like much now, but if we work together to perfect the technique, and practice, practice, practice, you may have just discovered something that could change the way embroidery is done. You will certainly have changed your life and the future of this school.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “If we perfect this double-sided embroidery, everyone will want it, but we will be the only ones who know how it is done. My school, and my students, could become famous for it.”

  “Your school? Your students? It’s my idea,” I said. “We should call it the Yaqian stitch.”

  Lady Tang waved her hand dismissively. “An arrogant army is bound to lose, Yaqian,” she said as she stood. “Now, take a break, have lunch, have a rest. You and I have a lot of work to do.”

  I never finished that leaf, but I did take a string from that first attempt at double-sided embroidery and added it to my collection.

  That Lady Tang and I had a lot of work to do ended up being an understatement. I could tell she wanted to take credit for my work to elevate herself and her school. Well, I wasn’t going to let her beat me. I would perfect the technique long before her. I had the time and the willpower to do it. Lady Tang still had a school to run and a dozen other young ladies to teach.

  For months, Lady Tang and I worked on perfecting the double-sided embroidery technique, both together and on our own. There was no one stitch that could be used to create a mirror image on the reverse side of a cloth. Instead, it meant finding the best way to make the stitches on the opposite side completely invisible for every thread. It was like learning to embroider all over again. Only this time I didn’t have a teacher since Lady Tang and I were learning it together. But the work went quickly. It was exciting to be creating something completely new.

  After many months of teaching ourselves new techniques, we then had to endlessly practice them. For years, I watched as my skills improved. I didn’t make as much money during this time as I could have because many of my pieces were not suitable to sell, but the few I did sell sold for much more than I ever thought a piece of embroidery could sell for. Lady Tang’s skill increased much faster than mine – she was a master after all – but I believed I was not far behind her. And if it hadn’t been for me, she never would have imagined such a style was possible.

  By the time I was fifteen, I was teaching the other girls in the school double-sided embroidery. It was long and tedious work, but Lady Tang wanted her school to become known for the technique. I grew from student to teacher, but was still far from being a master.

  6

  Changsha, Hunan, 1856

  In the sixth year of the Xianfeng Emperor, one of the emperor’s concubines gave birth to a son, his first. The country rejoiced because a son meant that the dynasty was secure and that the emperor had Heaven’s blessing. That was the official reaction anyway. In truth, unrest was boiling in the countryside. A long drought had left millions of people dead or hungry. Most people held the emperor responsible. Even though he was far away, it was the job of the emperor to please Heaven. If the gods were unhappy, the common man often suffered.

  What was more worrisome was that south of us, in Guangxi Province, a group of rebels known as the Taiping had been amassing their own army against the emperor. Their leader had even set up his own capital in Nanjing. His men rode through the countryside attacking and killing anyone who supported the emperor. Much of southern Hunan had already fallen to the Taiping or joined them willingly. Their followers would cut off their long queues or let their hair flow freely. In Changsha, the city and most of the people in it were still loyal to the emperor, but there were often skirmishes in the streets and small battles in nearby areas. Sometimes, supply routes would be cut off or we would hear of friends or family members being murdered. No matter where a person’s loyalties were, all blamed the emperor for our troubles.

  Lady Tang’s school was profiting. Some of her girls had gone on to placements with influential families, some of the girls were married to rich men, and Lady Tang’s income and reputation were growing. She knew, though, that her position required her unwavering loyalty to the emperor. The most important families in China were still Manchu and Han mandarins in and near Peking. What the Taiping had in idealism they lacked in money and prestige, both of which mattered a great deal to Lady Tang and others.

  Lady Tang saw the birth of the emperor’s son as a chance to show her loyalty to the Son of Heaven. She decided to put together a gift package for the emperor, the concubine, and the new little prince. All of the girls thought it was a lovely idea and we all wanted to put something into the box as well. Lady Tang agreed.

  Everyone put their best pieces into the box. Lady Tang put a large, double-sided piece that could be used as a window screen in the summer. But when I went to put in a double-sided fan for the concubine, Lady Tang told me I couldn’t include it.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Because this is a gift for the imperial family! You cannot put in a piece that looks like it was made by an amateur! How insulted would they be? No, put in one of your lovely single-sided pieces. Maybe something with fish. Those are always beautiful and complex and bring good luck.”

  “How dare you call me an amateur?” I shrieked. “I have been doing double-sided embroidery for as long as you have. Your pieces are not that much better than mine. I invented it! My pieces should be allowed to go.”

  “Yaqian,” she said, firmly, trying to hold her temper, “you are not there yet…”

  “Where?” I interrupted. “I invented it. I have perfected it. I teach it. You wouldn’t have even tried it if it wasn’t for me.”

  “You are not ready for what this could do to your future,” she said. “You are still learning. You are still my student and…”

  “Well maybe I don’t want to be your student anymore!” I yelled. “I’m tired of you treating me like a little girl. You have learned a lot from me, too, you know!”

  She held up her hand to get me to stop talking. “I am not having this conversation with you,” she said. “I am your master. I say you are not ready, and that is all.” She tied up the box, without letting me put anything into it, and turned and left the room.

  I was angry and in shock. She decided I was not even worth talking to? She thought I was an amateur? Maybe I wasn’t quite a “master” yet, but my work was good and I was proud of my pieces. I didn’t even know what a master was anymore. She had spent the last few years learning as much as I had. If I hadn’t started over again by learning the double-sided technique, I certainly would be a master of traditional embroidery by now. I decided I wouldn’t let her hold me back. I would forge my own destiny.

  That night, I snuck into her office and opened the box. I removed her double-sided window covering and put in the double-sided fan of a tiger for the concubine. I also included traditional baby shoes and clothes featuring tigers and an embroidered knife sheath with a tiger on it for the emperor. I kept one of the threads I had used to make the concubine’s fan and placed it gingerly with the others. That thread could change my life.

  But I went a step farther. I included a short letter to the concubine, explaining how I had created the double-sided technique and would happily devote all my work to her. I closed the box and tied it exactly as it was. I took Lady Tang’s window covering with me to the main room and threw it into the fireplace. I couldn’t help but smile as it quickly disintegrated into nothing.

  The next day, Lady Tang sent out the package with a special courier who was to take the package directly to the palace. Undoubtedly, the royal family would receive hundreds, if not thousands, of gifts from loyal citizens throughout the country. The chance that the concubine or the emperor would ever see the box or what was inside it was infinitesimally small, but all of us felt a sense of pride as we thought about our gifts riding away toward Peking. It took all my willpower to not laugh out loud as I saw the look of satisfaction on Lady Tang’s face.

  I never let on that anything was the matter between Lady Tang and me. I suppose she thought I took her criticism to heart and learned from it or something silly like that. But in truth, I relished in my revenge. I felt no need to rebel against her further because she and I were already even, even if she didn’t know it. I went about daily life as things were before: practicing my embroidery, teaching it to others, and finding ways to improve myself.

  I had no way of knowing what would happen to that box, and I didn’t really care. After a few weeks, I think we had all but forgotten about it and life went back to normal.

  * * *

  We were all sitting, working as usual, when the door to the studio flew open. Lady Tang breezed into the room, her dress floating like a fairy’s. Her face beamed, and her eyelids drooped as though she was dreaming.

  “My darlings,” she began as she glided around the room, throwing all the windows open wide. “You have all done such wonderful work, and you have all made me so proud.” She walked over to several of the girls and patted their heads or rubbed their cheeks. “I have just received the most wonderful letter,” she said, holding up a piece of paper. “The emperor himself was very grateful for our gift.”

  At this, all the girls jumped from their seats and squealed. They all began chatting excitedly, wondering what else the letter said.

  Lady Tang motioned for everyone to quiet down. “The emperor is sending an emissary to meet me, visit the school, and discuss how the school can provide further services for His Majesty.”

  The girls could no longer contain their excitement at this and Lady Tang could not quiet them. This would most likely change all of our lives. If the emperor became a patron of the school, it would mean more money than we could ever fathom. The school’s prestige would soar, making anyone who studied here an even more highly valued commodity. Forget the best families in the province – the best families in China would be after our work and our girls as personal artisans. We could wind up in the homes of princes and great ladies. Our work could be sent to dignitaries the world over. We could even work in the imperial studios in Suzhou. I couldn’t begin to imagine what this could mean for Lady Tang. Her name might go down in history as an embroiderer for an emperor.

  As for me, I was as excited as the rest of them, but I was nervous as well. What did the emperor think of my piece? Did it have any bearing on this great honor? What if Lady Tang found out what I had done?

  But in that moment, and for several more weeks, it didn’t matter. Changsha was a long way from Peking, and the capital was in the midst of celebrating the royal birth. Here in Hunan, the sound of gunfire was never far away. There were rumors that rebellions were springing up all over the country. Honoring an embroidery school thousands of li away would not be a priority for the court.

  This was good for us, though. Lady Tang immediately set to work preparing everyone and everything for the emissary’s arrival. Everything was cleaned from top to bottom – even the stepping stones leading to our front door were scrubbed. She set all of us to work on pieces as beautiful and complicated as our skills allowed so would have plenty of gifts to bestow on our visitor. I wanted nothing more than to keep working on my double-sided embroidery technique, but Lady Tang forbade it. I still worked too slowly, she said. I wouldn’t have anything substantial created by the time the emissary arrived. I was annoyed, but she was right. I focused on creating a large piece with nine red fish – fish because they represent good fortune and because delicate and wispy fish fins are among the most difficult thing to embroider. If I couldn’t impress the emissary with my double-sided embroidery skills, I could at least impress him with my painting with the needle skills.

  * * *

  The big day finally arrived. A single rider arrived at the school just after sunrise and told us that the emperor’s emissary would be arriving before noon. He also informed us that the emissary was no mere messenger or even one of the hundreds of court officials, but was Prince Gong, the emperor’s brother. This news seemed to worry Lady Tang more than honor her. The rider also said that the prince and his escort only required a single meal and a place to rest for a few hours. They would not be staying the night. The rider left to inform the prince that preparations had been made.

  Lady Tang fretted. “After weeks of traveling, not even staying one night?” she asked to no one in particular.

  We were all hovering around her office door, her anxiety running through each one of us. I was beginning to regret sending that fan and letter to the concubine behind Lady Tang’s back. It was wrong of me to disobey her. It was her school and I was only a student. She had brought me out of my meager existence and given me a chance at an exquisite life, one filled with meaningful work, beauty, and plenty of money. Whatever happened in my life would be thanks to her. In my pride, I had scoffed at all she had given to me and betrayed her.

  I was wracked with guilt. I was about to admit to what I had done when she came out of her worry enough to see us standing around.

  “What are you doing?” she snapped. “Nothing has changed. Go ready yourselves and then get back to your work. Now!”

  We scurried away in a mix of nerves and excitement. We went to our rooms and dressed in our best clothes. We all helped each other do our hair. Some of the girls added paint to their lips, cheeks, and eyes. We all slipped on our most elegant embroidered slippers. Then we gathered together in the studio to work, but we were too excited to concentrate. We were about to meet a prince.

  * * *

  At almost exactly noon, we heard the thunder of horses. Nearly a dozen horses with riders stopped near our gate. Several carts pulled by horses and donkeys followed. A tall man climbed down from his very large horse and stood in front of our gate. He was dressed more finely that the other men and carried an air of command, his chin high. He didn’t give any orders, yet men rushed to take his horse’s reins, dusted him off, straightened his coat, and opened the gate. All of the other men fell in line behind him. We were shocked to see a few women climb down from some of the horses as well. I heard one of the older girls mumble something about a “chicken girl,” but I didn’t know what that meant. I did notice that they were not allowed to enter the compound and seemed very friendly with our guards.

  We all lined up to greet our guest. Lady Tang gave one of her servants a nod to open the door before anyone could knock.

  Prince Gong entered the room without a word. We didn’t get a good look at him because we all immediately kowtowed with our foreheads to the floor. We heard the prince take a few steps into the room.

  “Lady Tang,” I heard him say. “You honor me with your hospitality.” His voice was strong and clear, but I had problems understanding his accent and dialect.

  I heard the rustle of Lady Tang’s gown as she stood. “It is nothing, my lord,” she replied. She assumed an almost foreign tongue to match the prince’s, though she spoke a bit slower so she was easier to understand. “We are humbled by your presence and thank the emperor for bestowing us with his grace.”

  “Humph,” he said softly with almost a chuckle. “Well, the emperor always gets what he wants.” He took a few more steps. “And are these your students?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Sit up now, girls.”

  We did so, but we stayed kneeling, and immediately our eyes went to the prince. He smiled, I suppose at the fact that we were all staring at him with beet red faces from bowing with our noses to the ground. He was even taller than he seemed when I saw him outside. I had heard that northern men and women were taller than us southerners, but I had never met a northerner before. His head was shaved in the front, but the rest of his hair was long and braided into a tight queue all the way down his back. All Chinese men, no matter their ethnicity, wore the Manchu queue to show submission to the emperor, but few non-Manchu went to the trouble of shaving the front of their heads. He was young, in his early twenties, and a bit on the thin side. He had a well-formed nose and a stern jaw, but his eyes…his eyes were incredibly expressive. His gaze could be firm enough to command an army one minute and playful the next. His face softened when he smiled. His teeth were white and straight, an uncommon sight in a place like Hunan. His clothes were simple for a prince, white with a gold embroidered dragon border and tall, black boots.