Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 11: The Consorts’ Painting

   Crash!

A wrist adorned with emerald prayer beads swept sharply to the right. A precious white-glazed vase painted with the Eight Immortals was knocked from the table and shattered instantly into worthless fragments on the floor—three years’ worth of a rare tribute piece, destroyed in a heartbeat.

Concubine Jia entered just in time to witness the scene. A few shards even bounced to her feet, startling her into stepping back. With a trace of fear, she asked, “Noble Consort Your Highness, what happened? Why such a terrible temper all of a sudden?”

The interior of Chuxiu Palace was resplendent with gold and splendor. Especially the treasure shelf, laden with all kinds of gold, silver, jade, and rare antiques: the jade pillow once used by Xi Shi, the pipa once held by Wang Zhaojun, the moon earrings once worn by Diaochan, and the colorful plate once used by Yang Guifei to hold lychees. Now, all of them lay scattered and broken on the floor—swept down mercilessly by Noble Consort Hui in a fit of rage.

“None of your business! Get out! Get as far away from this palace as you can!” she shouted furiously.

Concubine Jia had no choice but to retreat. Outside the door, she pulled aside a palace maid and asked in a low voice, “What on earth happened?”

The maid whispered, “You don’t know, my lady? When the Noble Consort first returned, she was perfectly fine. But then His Majesty bestowed upon her a painting called ‘Lady Ban Declines the Imperial Carriage.’ The moment she saw it, she flew into a rage!”

Concubine Jia pondered for a moment, then pushed the door open again and entered with a smile. “Your Highness, I heard His Majesty bestowed upon you a painting of ‘Lady Ban Declines the Imperial Carriage’? Congratulations, congratulations!”

“Congratulations for what?” Noble Consort Hui’s face turned livid with anger. “Emperor Cheng of Han invited Lady Ban to ride in the same carriage with him, but she refused on the grounds that it was improper and against etiquette—thus becoming a model virtuous consort of her generation. He’s warning me—what a truly ‘proper’ consort should be like!”

Concubine Jia: “Your Highness, you’ve misunderstood…”

“It’s all because of her!” Noble Consort Hui smashed another jade plate, then paced back and forth across the room, her face twisted with anxiety and hatred. “The moment she entered the palace, she became the exalted Empress of Great Qing. Her annual stipend is a thousand taels—I get four hundred less. Changchun Palace uses gold vessels; Chuxiu Palace is only fit for silver. She has full ceremonial honor guards; I only get the lesser procession. Even the festival rewards—I receive far less! Fine, I can endure all of that. But His Majesty! Just now I was standing right there—a living, breathing person—and he pretended not to see me. His eyes, his heart, were filled only with her. How can this be endured? Bestowing this wretched painting is his way of saying I’ve overstepped, that I’ve bullied his beloved Empress!”

“Your Highness,” Concubine Jia hurried over, softening her voice to soothe her. “You’ve misunderstood His Majesty.”

“Oh?” Noble Consort Hui raised an eyebrow and glanced sideways at her. “Go on then—tell me, what exactly have I misunderstood about His Majesty?”

“What His Majesty bestowed was not limited to just this one painting, the Lady Ban Declining the Imperial Carriage,” Concubine Jia said. “Over at Zhongcui Palace, it was the Xu Hou Presenting the Memorial painting. At Qixiang Palace, it was the Jiang Hou Removing Her Hairpins. Even the Empress received one—a Tai Si Instructing Her Sons.”

Noble Consort Hui was momentarily stunned. “She received one too? Tai Si Instructing Her Sons—what does that mean?”

“In my humble opinion, this is merely a passing whim of His Majesty’s,” Concubine Jia replied with a smile. “He has gifted portraits of virtuous consorts and empresses from ancient times, hoping that all the ladies of the inner palace will take them as models to emulate. Why should you be angry over such a thing?”

Hearing that even the Empress had received a similar painting, Noble Consort Hui’s anger immediately subsided by more than half. She settled back into her chair. A palace maid hurriedly brought her a cup of tea; she accepted it, took a sip, then curved her beautiful lips into a charming, flirtatious smile directed at Concubine Jia.

“You truly have a clever tongue—everything you say is exactly what this palace likes to hear.”

Concubine Jia lowered her eyes demurely. “This concubine is unworthy, but I am willing to share the burdens of Your Ladyship.”

“Keep talking,” Noble Consort Hui instructed. “I do not believe His Majesty would act without purpose. In your view, what deeper meaning lies behind this gesture of his?”

Living in the palace meant one had to observe more, listen more, and think more. When a superior coughed once, those below had to discern from that single sound whether the master was thirsty or ill—whether to bring tea or fetch medicine. The Emperor might have merely gifted a few paintings, but that was more than enough to keep their recipients pondering until dawn.

Concubine Jia thought for a moment before replying, “His Majesty bestowed a total of twelve paintings. This concubine speculates that, taken together, these twelve paintings represent His Majesty’s ideal image of the perfect consort. For example, the Xu Fei Offering Direct Remonstrance is a wish that consorts emulate Consort Xu Hui of the Tang—boldly speaking the truth and remonstrating directly when Emperor Taizong made a mistake. And the Empress Cao Valuing Agriculture…”

“Empress Cao Valuing Agriculture?” At the sound of that title, Noble Consort Hui burst into loud laughter. The jeweled hairpins on her head swayed and sparkled with the motion. “Who was unlucky enough to receive that rubbish? Is His Majesty telling her to go work the fields?”

“It is a hope that the recipient will emulate Empress Cao of Emperor Renzong of Song—living simply and frugally, and placing importance on agriculture and sericulture,” Concubine Jia explained with a smile. “It’s really not so bad. This concubine has heard that someone even received the Jieyu Facing the Bear.”

“Oh my, my stomach!” Noble Consort Hui clutched her belly, rocking back and forth so hard she nearly fell off her chair from laughing. “And who got that one? Is His Majesty advising her not to be human anymore, but to go up the mountain and become a blind bear?”

“It is presumably a wish that she emulates the former Lady Feng Jieyu of Emperor Yuan of Han—who, when the emperor was in danger, risked her own life to protect him,” Concubine Jia explained.

After going through all twelve paintings one by one, Noble Consort Hui rubbed her aching stomach and said thoughtfully, “So in other words, His Majesty wants us consorts to be both strikingly beautiful and virtuous and filial, frugal in managing the household, and—when necessary—capable of tearing apart fierce tigers with our bare hands and wrestling bears unarmed?”

“Precisely,” Concubine Jia said with a smile. “Your Ladyship is truly clever—you understand at once.”

Noble Consort Hui gave a soft snort of laughter, then leaned back in her chair with an air of faint disinterest. Tilting her head to gaze at the ceiling above, she murmured, “Is this supposed to be a woman… or some kind of divine being?”

Tonight was destined to be a sleepless one.

Some tossed and turned; others were lost in anxious thought. And within the Yangxin Hall, the most exalted person in the realm had likewise not yet retired. He remained beneath the candlelight, still reviewing memorials.

The side of his face illuminated by the candle flame was gilded with a warm golden hue, like a sacred statue in a temple—solemn, majestic, lofty and remote. How many palace hearts willingly offered everything, just hoping for a single downward glance from him.

“Your Majesty.” The chief eunuch who had served him for many years, Li Yu, stepped forward holding a tray. “Her Majesty the Empress has sent a midnight snack. You should rest for a while as well.”

On the tray was a bowl of rock-sugar snow-pear soup. Hongli accepted it and took several sips; the sweet coolness soothed his heart. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes as if resting, and asked lazily, “Has anything interesting happened in the palace lately?”

“What would Your Majesty like to hear?” Li Yu asked with a smile.

“Anything at all,” Hongli replied languidly. “Tell me something amusing from the inner palace lately—something to wake me up a bit.”

Though the inner palace was vast, in truth it was small. There were only a handful of masters; the truly numerous were the palace maids and eunuchs. And as the head of all eunuchs, Li Yu commanded countless eyes and ears. Many secrets were not secrets at all in his presence. To him, the enormous inner palace was like a wall that was constantly permeable to drafts.

This was one of the reasons Hongli valued him so highly—with him in place, Hongli could always know the state of the inner palace at any moment.

“If we speak of the inner palace,” Li Yu said with a smile, “all the young mistresses have recently been troubled by the very same matter.”

“Oh?” Hongli didn’t even open his eyes, his hands clasped across his chest. “What is it?”

“The source of the matter lies in those paintings Your Majesty bestowed…” Li Yu briefly described the situation on Noble Consort Hui’s side. If Noble Consort Hui had been present, she would surely have been terrified to the core—because something that had only just happened in her own palace was being recounted by Li Yu in exhaustive detail less than an hour later, down to the exact expression on her face as she spoke. “…That is the state of affairs in Chuxiu Palace. Noble Consort Hui threw quite a tantrum over that ‘Lady Ban Declines the Imperial Carriage’ painting.”

“When does she ever not throw a tantrum?” Hongli remarked indifferently. “What about the others?”

“On Consort Xian’s side, her mother came to visit and urged her to whisper more ‘pillow talk’ to Your Majesty, so that her father could be promoted to a higher position. But Consort Xian dismissed her with the reason that the inner palace must not interfere in politics.” Li Yu sighed. “Her mother left in a huff; Consort Xian did not stop her. She simply had the painting Your Majesty bestowed placed on an altar, lit incense, prayed, and murmured: First, may my lord live a thousand years; second, may this concubine remain ever healthy; third, may we be like the swallows on the beam, meeting year after year without parting.”

Hongli opened his eyes for a moment, then closed them again. “…And the Empress?”

“The Empress seems to be in rather low spirits,” Li Yu replied. “Though she said nothing aloud, two of her personal palace maids were quietly discussing among themselves that…”

He hesitated, trailing off halfway. Hongli, growing impatient, pressed: “What did they say?”

“They said… that by bestowing this painting, Your Majesty is reminding the Empress not to remain sunk in gloom over what happened three years ago, neglecting everything.” Li Yu cautiously glanced at Hongli’s expression as he spoke.

Three years earlier, the second prince born to the Empress had suddenly passed away.

The bond between mother and son had been deep; ever since, the Empress had been nearly broken. Only this year had she begun to recover somewhat. To outsiders, she and Hongli still appeared deeply affectionate, respectful and harmonious as ever. But Li Yu knew that the incident had nonetheless planted a seed of estrangement between them.

Sure enough, Hongli’s brows furrowed slightly—he clearly did not wish to discuss the matter further.

Li Yu promptly wrapped up that topic and, feigning surprise, ventured: “Your Majesty, this servant dares to ask—when these twelve palace admonition paintings are strung together, do they represent Your Majesty’s hopes for the consorts?”

Hongli gently shook his head. He finished the remaining half-bowl of rock-sugar-and-snow-pear soup in one go, then picked up the memorial again—though now his attention seemed somewhat distracted, lacking the earlier focus.

Seeing that his mind was not on the memorial, Li Yu boldly continued speaking. Smiling ingratiatingly, he said: “Your Majesty, this servant may be only half a man, but I’ve seen plenty of women here in the Forbidden City! A woman can be exquisitely beautiful, with a graceful, enchanting figure, skilled in poetry, music, singing, and playing instruments—that already counts as rare. But to demand that she embody every virtue under heaven… where on earth could one find such a creature?”

“I simply think they have too much idle time,” Hongli said without lifting his head, eyes fixed on the memorial in his hand.

Li Yu was stunned. “Ah?”

“Idleness breeds trouble,” Hongli said with a slight smile. The smile carried a hint of cunning that softened the solemn dignity of his features, making the divine statue in a temple seem to have descended to the mortal world. “By bestowing these palace admonition paintings on the inner palace, I’ve given them something to occupy their minds for quite a while.”

The consorts of the rear palace would probably rack their brains and still never guess that the true reason behind these twelve paintings of ancient virtuous consorts was this. Even Li Yu was momentarily dumbfounded before murmuring: “Occupy their minds for a while… but how much use can that really be?”

Hongli burst into hearty laughter. He rolled up the memorial in his hand and playfully tapped it against Li Yu’s forehead in an intimate gesture: “Because most of them are just as dim-witted as you are—they’ll only think I’m reminding them to be virtuous, gentle, and dutiful. So, in order to live up to my expectations and become the model consort who pleases me, they will naturally have to behave themselves for a few days—and that means I get a few days of peace and quiet!”

“Ah?” Li Yu gaped. “Your Majesty… You’re toying with them!”

Loud laughter echoed through the Yangxin Hall. The two imperial guards standing watch outside the door exchanged bewildered glances, unsure what on earth had made the Emperor laugh so heartily.

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