Purely by Accident – Chapter 22
***
The Empress Dowager of the Yan Empire, the emperor’s dear old mother herself, a woman whom subjects across the realm had innumerable reasons to envy, had woes of her own as well.
The first of these woes was the inexorable advancing of her age, and the inevitable fading of her beauty. As the saying goes: ‘Great beauties are like outstanding generals: rarely does the world allow them to grow old.’[1] The aging of a beautiful woman could, in a sense, be seen as a curse placed upon her by the collective resentment of the many more less attractive women who populated the world. The nature of that curse could be condensed into a single sentence: Just you wait, time spares no one! The empress dowager had undoubtedly been a beautiful woman in her youth, and so it was inevitable that she should succumb to this curse. The thing the old lady most enjoyed doing in her moments of leisure was to slip down to the lake in the back garden of Yongqing Palace[2] at twilight, crouch down beside the water, and quietly admire her own reflection. In the forgiving light of the moon, amid the gentle ripples of the lake, the woman reflected in its surface seemed once again that graceful maiden of yesteryear, with skin as pure as ice and as smooth as jade,[3] and hair a cascade of exquisite black silk.
Perhaps because she had devised a solution of sorts for the first of her woes, it did not vex the empress dowager nearly as much as the second. The source of her second woe was another person — her oldest granddaughter, the Yongyan Princess Chu Feichen. Every time she thought of the girl, a fresh wave of sorrow would wash over the empress dowager. Oh, what a worrying child she was! The girl wasn’t bad-looking, nor was she particularly spoiled, and she was proficient enough in the four arts — the qin,[4] weiqi,[5] calligraphy and painting — expected of any member of the aristocracy. Why oh why was she still unwed at such an advanced age? All her younger sisters had been married off one by one, but she, the eldest, remained ensconced in her maidenly bower — and without a single spark of agitation, a single flicker of impatience, or a single trace of discomfiture at that. Oh, it was enough to make an old woman wring her wrists in despair, beat her chest in anguish, and plead for a merciful death to carry her off that she might finally atone for her abject failure to safeguard the legacy of her late husband the former emperor!
I was halfway through a bowl of sweet soup made from red dates and lotus seeds. When the princess reached this point in her narration, I choked and spat out a date.
The princess paused in her pitch-perfect imitation of her grandmother and frowned. ‘What are you laughing at?’ she asked, perplexed.
‘Nothing much.’ I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, then pointed at her face. ‘It’s just… you, playing an old lady? With that face, so smooth it doesn’t even have a single wrinkle on it? Also’ — and here I set the bowl down — ‘histrionics like beating your chest should call to the viewer’s mind some irate fishwife, or a raging harridan. Why is it that the gesture loses all its flavour when you do it?’
‘None of your impertinence,’ said the princess testily, lowering her fists from her chest. ‘Do you want me to go on or not?’
‘I do, of course I do.’ Obsequiously, I stepped behind her and began massaging her shoulders. ‘But if the empress dowager was in such a hurry to marry you off, why didn’t she arrange some prospective matches for you?’
‘Who says she didn’t?’
Oh no! Distracted, I’d pressed down just a little too hard on the princess’ shoulder. The princess glanced back at me, then pulled me down to sit in the chair next to hers. Pride was written all over her face. ‘But what could she do, if none of them caught my fancy?’
Mm. I licked my lips, and fancied I could taste a lingering trace of the soup I’d been drinking. It was very sweet.
The princess leaned over and dabbed something away from the corner of my mouth. Tilting up her head, she smiled at me. ‘So if you want to become prince consort, the only shortcut is through my grandmother.’
That smile of hers set my heart fluttering; I felt a little giddy. ‘But she has no idea who I am,’ I said, bemused. ‘And besides, my father is only a provincial governor — wouldn’t your grandmother turn up her nose at someone of my station?’
The princess didn’t respond immediately. Taking hold of my shoulders, she looked me up and down and up again. Then she murmured thoughtfully, ‘That’s true. Your birth is insufficiently noble, your physique is insufficiently strapping, as a scholar you could charitably be described as ‘so-so’, and you are, at most, tolerable at feats of arms…’
My face fell.
The princess laughed, and reached out to rearrange my features into a more pleasing expression. ‘Luckily, this face of yours isn’t half bad.’
Aggrieved, I tried to bite her finger. Deftly, she evaded the attempt. ‘Do you still want to hear the old lady’s story or not?’ she asked, tapping me lightly on the forehead.
What I very much wanted to tell her was, as someone who had neither an Oedipus complex nor any tendencies towards incest, I had absolutely no interest in the empress dowager’s troubles or joys. From the princess’ attitude, however, it seemed that these had no small bearing on my prospects of becoming prince consort, so all I could do was give her a long-suffering nod.
Of course, if one’s life consisted of woes alone, it would be no sort of life at all. Almost every person in this world has troubles of our own, yet we carry on. How are we able to do this? Because each and every one of us also has a dream.
And the empress dowager had a dream of the jianghu.[6]
The empress dowager’s father held the lofty position of Grand Preceptor[7] at court. As a man he was honest and upright, as an official he was just and incorruptible, and as a father he had some rather antiquated notions about the proper role of women in society. As a result, his daughter was educated in the four arts, trained in embroidery and other forms of needlework, and exhorted regularly on the importance of feminine virtues and conduct. While the empress dowager was a quiet, genteel young woman, there was still a streak of rebellion deep in her bones. Besides, having to play the part of the demure young lady day in and day out was rather wearisome. And so, one day while her father was away accompanying the then-emperor on an incognito tour of the realm, she slipped out of her home alone.
At the time, she had no idea what the jianghu was, but in running away from home, she ran straight into the arms of a dream she would cherish forever. And that’s why, dear listener, no matter how dark things might seem, you should never give up hope, because you can never tell when your dream might be waiting for you just around the corner.
The fateful spot for the empress dowager was Luoxia Hill, which lay less than five miles away from the capital. It was evening when she reached the hilltop, and the luxuriantly green trees that stretched across the hillside looked magnificent under the golden light of the setting sun. The empress dowager let out an exclamation of praise at the sight, and was about to let out another when suddenly a man leaped down from a nearby tree so tall it seemed to touch the sky. ‘Leaped’ was an inapt term; ‘flew’ might perhaps be more accurate, because he descended lightly and gracefully enough to put the clouds in the sky to shame.
It was quiet on the hilltop; even the occasional falling leaf drifted to the earth with barely a sound. In the rosy glow of sunset, the man smiled at the empress dowager. His white robes were so spotless that they dazzled the eye.
The empress dowager — oh, no, at the time she was not yet the empress dowager, only a sheltered young noblewoman who rarely set foot beyond the gates of her own home[8] — stared at him, wonderstruck. So that’s what the books mean when they say, ‘Where a man’s simplicity of character exceeds his refinement of manner, he is coarse. Where a man’s refinement of manner exceeds his simplicity of character, he is meretricious. Where both simplicity and refinement are blended in equal measure, he is a man of honour.’[9]
Gawking at the man in front of her, she thought again: Where both simplicity and refinement are blended in equal measure, he is a man of honour.
But the only thing the man was concerned about was why an expensively-dressed young noblewoman was wandering all by herself on a lonely hilltop at sunset. When he learned that she had run away from home, he insisted on bringing her back.
She could still remember the moment when he’d jumped over the wall of her father’s manor with her under his arm. For a fleeting instant, she’d felt as if she were flying — and her heart had felt as if it were soaring even higher than the rest of her, felt as if it was about to fling itself out of her chest.
He turned to go. As he leaped onto the wall over which they’d just come, he’d looked over his shoulder and said, ‘The world is a dangerous place, my lady. Please be a little less headstrong in future.’
That was the only time she’d ever seen him, and those were the last words he’d ever said to her. He had probably forgotten her long go, but the memory of the encounter sustained her through all the long dreary years at court. It took root within her heart, and sprouted and grew until it bloomed into an unattainable dream of the jianghu.
The princess made this part of the tale sound even more romantic than the rest. There was even a look of yearning on her face as she spoke.
I pouted. ‘What do you mean, a dream of the jianghu? Sounds more like an erotic dream to me.’
To my complete and utter lack of surprise, the princess gave me a sharp tap on the head. ‘Hasn’t it given you any ideas?’ she asked sternly.
What ideas was she expecting me to have? I mulled the question over, then asked cautiously, ‘Everybody has an erotic dream deep within their heart — is that what you meant to say?’
At the look of sheer exasperation[10] on the princess’ face, I put my hands protectively over my head, not daring to say another word.
‘Combine the empress dowager’s woes with the empress dowager’s dream,’ she said, ‘and what can you conclude?’
‘Mm… that we should find her a handsome jianghu adventurer to make her forget her woes?’
‘Wei Zisong! How is that going to help you become prince consort?’
‘Well, the adventurer might put the empress dowager into such a good mood that she’ll decide to grant me your hand in marriage then and there!’
The princess took a deep breath, then let it out again very slowly. Looking me straight in the eye, she said very deliberately, ‘Don’t you think it would be make more sense for you to appear before the empress dowager and me in the guise of a dashing jianghu adventurer?’
‘Huh? Oh no, no. What if the empress dowager takes a fancy to me and tries to claim me for herself?’ I shuddered at the thought.
A vein in the princess’ forehead throbbed visibly. ‘That won’t happen.’
‘Why not?’ I stood up and twirled a couple of times. ‘”Where both simplicity and refinement are blended in equal measure, he is a man of honour” — that describes me perfectly.’
The vein throbbed again. ‘If I tell you it won’t happen, it won’t happen,’ said the princess through gritted teeth.
‘But what if it does? They do say it’s better to be safe than sorry, after all.’[11] An image flashed through my mind of the Empress Dowager advancing inexorably upon me, smiling and stroking her own cheek, and I felt suddenly apprehensive.
The princess was silent for a long moment. Abruptly she rose, took my face in her hands, and met my gaze steadily. ‘Listen to me, Wei Zisong. I will never allow that to happen.’
Her eyes were resolute, her voice was tender. I saw myself reflected in her eyes, and in the reflection I nodded.
***
And so it came to pass that on the twentieth day of the sixth month, I found myself on Luoxia Hill, lying at the very top of a pine tree. Bored out of my skull, I yawned. I’d been told that the empress dowager always visited Luoxia Hill incognito on this day every year, and the winding narrow trail directly below the tree was the only path that led downhill. All I had to do was wait until I saw the empress dowager coming, then leap down in front of her with all the grace I could muster. Importantly, my movements had to be elegant, my gaze dreamy, and my smile warm. I’d found it extremely difficult to strike the right balance between the dreaminess of the gaze and the warmth of the smile. I’d tried out a number of different permutations in front of the princess the day she first mooted this plan. Each time, she’d commented either that I seemed to be sleepwalking, or that I looked like a complete pervert. Once I’d returned to my own residence, I’d cornered Zheng Hao and continued practising on him with a vengeance, so that he now broke into uncontrollable trembling each time he saw a smile cross my face. Given this, I felt I had to choose between either the dreamy gaze or the warm smile, and I fretted over this as I lurked among the branches.
Just as the sun was setting over the hill, a few distant figures came into view at the other end of the path.
I sat up straight and squinted in their direction. As they approached, I could see that one of them — strolling along the path and pausing every now and then to look around — was unmistakeably my princess, Chu Feichen.
I took a deep breath and gathered myself, ready to leap down using qinggong[12] as soon as they got a little closer.
Five, four, three, two —
Just as I was about to jump, one of the other women in the party suddenly looked up and pointed right at the tree in which I had concealed myself. ‘Look, Your Majesty, there’s an oriole up there. Let me catch it for you!’
With a flourish of her robes, she launched herself at the tree; the branches swayed as she landed among them. I promptly lost my balance and tumbled headfirst from my perch. As I lay flat on my back, one, no, two pairs of feet made their way into my field of vision.
The woman who had gone up into the tree jumped back down. I heard a bird flutter away somewhere behind her, its wings flapping frantically.
I reflected miserably that there was now no chance of showing off my elegant movements. And so, raising my dust-streaked face, I did my best to arrange my features into a dreamy smile.
The woman raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s you?’
***
Footnotes:
- In Chinese, 美人如良将, 不许人间见白头. This originates from the shi poem ‘In the Memory of Madam Jin’ (悼金夫人) by the female Qing Dynasty poet Zhao Yanxue (赵艳雪), written to mourn the passing of the wife of one her contemporaries. In the poem, the line is usually taken as a lamentation of the difficult fates of beautiful women and outstanding generals across history, who rarely live to a ripe old age. It is also capable of an alternative interpretation, namely that old age is the great nemesis of both beautiful women and outstanding generals, as it deprives the former of their physical attractiveness and the latter of their daring and skill. [return to text]
- ‘Palace’ in the context of this sentence denotes a separate residence within the wider imperial palace complex. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 冰肌玉肤, literally ‘ice flesh and jade skin’. Likely a riff on 冰肌玉骨, literally ‘ice flesh and jade bones’, a line from a ci poem by the Song Dynasty poet Su Shi (苏轼), set to the tune of ‘Song of the Goddess in the Cave’ (洞仙歌). The poem describes the beauty of Consort Xu (徐惠妃), known popularly as Madam Huarui (花蕊夫人), a poet and a concubine of the Later Shu emperor Meng Chang (孟昶) who reigned during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 琴. See footnote 2 to Chapter 17. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 围棋, literally ‘encirclement board game’. A strategy game in which players take turns placing white and black stones on a board consisting of a grid. The objective is to surround a larger total area of the board with one’s stones than the opponent. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 江湖, literally ‘lakes and rivers’. In the broad sense, it refers to various sub-sections of society that are orthogonal to mainstream society. In the present context (and in the wuxia genre) it refers to the world of martial artists, wandering adventurers, outlaws and rebels who abide by their own code of conduct intsead of governmental laws. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 太师. First used during the Zhou Dynasty, the title denotes the most senior of the top three officials at the time. It has since been used for various senior governmental positions across different dynasties. [return to text]
- In Chinese 大门不出二门不迈, literally ‘never steps outside the main gate, never crosses the threshold of the secondary gate’. It describes a person (typically a woman) who never or rarely steps outside their own home and has little contact with the outside world. The saying is based on the architecture of the siheyuan (四合院), a traditional type of Chinese residence. The ‘main gate’ refers to the siheyuan’s main entrance. The ‘secondary gate’ refers to the screen door which separated the front and back of the siheyuan. Unmarried daughters resided in the back of the siheyuan, as it was the area most secluded from the public eye. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 质胜文则野, 文胜质则史, 文质彬彬, 然后君子. This originates from the Analects. See footnote 2 to Chapter 16. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 恨铁不成刚, literally ”hate iron for not becoming steel’. The phrase originates from the novel The Dream of the Red Chamber (红楼梦), one of the four great classical novels of Chinese literature, by the Qing Dynasty poet and novelist Cao Xueqin (曹雪芹). It describes the resentment one feels towards another person (typically a child or protégé) for not living up to one’s expectations. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 不怕一万就怕万一, more or less literally ‘do not fear the expected happening ten thousand times; fear that the unexpected will happen once in ten thousand times’. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 轻功. See footnote 7 to Chapter 12. [return to text]
douqi 随笔 