Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 5: The Imperial Selection

   What happened in the Imperial Garden was like a small pebble tossed into the sea: it created a tiny splash, then quickly returned to calm. The important people turned a blind eye—even if they saw it, they wouldn’t care.

There were far more important matters waiting for them to see and attend to.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” In the courtyard of Changchun Palace, the palace maid Ming Yu hurried over, trying hard to catch her breath as she spoke. “The palace audience selection is about to begin soon. You should start preparing!”

The vast courtyard bloomed only with jasmine flowers.

Layer upon layer of pale white petals dotted among deep green leaves. In their midst stood a woman in plain clothing, holding golden shears, attentively trimming the branches.

A breeze passed through, stirring only the rustle of leaves and the steady snip-snip of the shears.

Had she not heard, or had she heard and chosen to ignore it? Ming Yu wasn’t sure. She could only wink anxiously at a graceful palace maid standing nearby.

This maid was also dressed in plain clothes and held a copper watering can. At first glance she seemed utterly unremarkable, like an ordinary new sweeping maid fresh in the palace. In reality, however, she was Erqing—the senior palace maid who personally attended the Empress. Her status and weight among the palace maids were second to none.

So what Ming Yu dared not say, she could say. What Ming Yu dared not do, she could do.

Stepping forward, Erqing spoke softly: “Your Highness?”

Snip. A jasmine branch was severed. The woman in plain clothes turned, holding the flower in her hand. In an instant the entire garden’s spring splendor dimmed before her. The boundless orchids seemed to exist solely to set her off.

Truly a secluded orchid in an empty valley, standing alone and apart from the world.

It was none other than the current Empress, Lady Fucha.

“Today the selection girls are all vying to outshine one another. What is there for me to prepare?” Empress Fucha closed her eyes, lowered her head to gently inhale the fragrance of the jasmine in her hand, and gave a soft smile. “I’d rather stay here and tend to the flowers.”

Truly, one could worry a monkey to death before the emperor himself felt anxious. Ming Yu scratched her head and ears in frustration, like a monkey that couldn’t reach the banana: “How can that be? If Your Highness doesn’t go, won’t you just be handing the opportunity straight to that woman in Chuxiu Palace?!”

“Ming Yu, watch your tongue!” Erqing was like the Monkey King’s taming monk—one displeased glance was enough to make Ming Yu fall silent at once. Then, turning to Empress Fucha with a gentle expression, she continued, “However, Your Highness, the palace audience selection is a major event. You really ought to at least go and take a look. Otherwise, if the Empress Dowager finds out, she will surely blame you again for neglecting palace affairs!”

As the saying goes, once you enter the palace gates it’s as deep as the sea—and so it truly was. In the sea the big fish eat the small; in the palace one head presses down another. The only one who could make Empress Fucha set down her flower shears was the Empress Dowager.

“Sigh.” Empress Fucha rose helplessly, patting the dust from her skirt. “So young and already so nagging. Fine then, let’s go take a look.”

Ming Yu’s face lit up with joy; she practically leaped three feet into the air. “Your Highness! This servant will immediately help you with your dressing and adornment!”

With that she turned and dashed off, vanishing in the blink of an eye, leaving only dust swirling in her wake.

“What a little monkey,” Empress Fucha said helplessly, shaking her head.

“She really is a monkey. And this—” Erqing stepped forward and carefully removed the small jasmine pom-pom tucked beside the Empress’s temple.

The Empress was momentarily startled, then let out a soft, amused laugh.

The venue for the selection was set at Yanhui Pavilion in the Imperial Garden.

Though they called it “dressing and adorning,” in truth it was merely changing into slightly cleaner clothes and washing the soil from her hands with clear water. Yet even appearing completely bare-faced, Empress Fucha still outshone every woman present by several degrees—first because of her beauty, and second because of her position.

However, some people did not place much importance on her position at all.

“Noble Consort Hui has arrived!”

With a loud announcement from the eunuch, a heavily made-up consort entered Yanhui Pavilion with graceful, measured steps, supported by her maids.

Some women should never wear heavy makeup; the thicker the cosmetics, the more vulgar they appear—for example, Empress Fucha.

But some women must wear heavy makeup and dazzling ornaments, with jade pendants clinking and tinkling at every step—like the one standing before them now: Noble Consort Hui. On her ears hung two lustrous Eastern pearls that radiated brilliance; around her wrist coiled a jade bracelet strung with eighteen emerald beads and two tourmalines. Most eye-catching of all was the enormous “big wing” headdress atop her head, shimmering with pearls and jewels, inlaid with silver kingfisher-feather butterflies and ruby peonies—both rendered so lifelike that as she moved, the butterflies seemed to flutter and the peonies to tremble.

On anyone else, so much jewelry would have turned the wearer into nothing more than a walking jewelry stand; people would see only the ornaments and not the person beneath. But Noble Consort Hui was different. With the bearing of a peony—peerlessly magnificent—she forcefully subdued the overwhelming blaze of gems and gold, making them mere accents to her own splendor.

She swayed gracefully forward and performed the squatting curtsy before the Empress. Both her movements and her voice carried an undisguised air of perfunctory courtesy:

“This concubine respectfully greets Your Majesty the Empress. May Your Majesty be in peace and health.”

Erqing’s face remained expressionless, but Ming Yu was already scowling with anger. With just one word from Empress Fucha, this monkey could have leapt forward and slapped her with a full set of ear-piercing blows—yet Empress Fucha merely smiled and said,

“Rise.”

The word “rise” had scarcely left her lips before Noble Consort Hui had already stood up, walked to the seat at the Empress’s lower side, and sat down. She accepted the teacup a maid offered, took a delicate sip, set it aside, and then turned her attention outward to comment on the selection girls:

“This year’s crop of selection girls is quite good quality. There are even a few who are delicately pretty and pleasing to the eye.”

The Empress’s expression remained calm and even:

“Our Great Qing’s selection of selection girls is naturally different from previous dynasties. We choose girls from distinguished families, virtuous and capable, to serve beside the Emperor. Appearance is of no consequence.”

Noble Consort Hui covered her lips and laughed. That laugh was like a peony in full bloom—nation-shaking beauty, heavenly fragrance. Not only men but even women could not help but be moved by her voluptuous charm:

“Even so, we cannot select a bunch of crooked melons and split dates. Wouldn’t that distress His Majesty when he looks upon them? It would also affect the appearance of the imperial heirs, would it not?”

What seemed like ordinary conversation was in truth laced with hidden blades. All around, people fell deathly silent; the selection girls lowered their heads and stared at the floor, hardly daring to breathe.

Though orchids and peonies each have their own charm, when two flowers vie, one must lose. To everyone’s surprise, Empress Fucha appeared to yield a step. She spoke in a mild and peaceful tone:

“No matter how beautiful the selection girls may be, none can compare to Noble Consort’s peerless splendor that outshines them all.”

Seeing her retreat, Noble Consort Hui grew even more triumphant. A silvery bell-like laugh spilled from her lips as she continued:

“Your Ladyship overpraises me; this concubine is utterly unworthy. But the peony is indeed the king of flowers, the nation’s supreme beauty—not just anyone can claim that title!”

“You—” Ming Yu’s fury flared; she was about to shout “How presumptuous!” when the Empress raised a hand to stop her. Though a million unwillingnesses filled her heart, she could only clench her fists and step back.

“His Majesty arrives!”

A loud announcement cut short their confrontation. Moments later, a tall and strikingly handsome man entered with his hands clasped behind his back. Compared to the others, his attire was closer to Empress Fucha’s—neither wore excessive jewelry. The deep indigo everyday robe gave him an air of crisp simplicity and quiet elegance; the sleeves even carried a faint scent of ink, as though he had come straight from his desk after handling a stack of memorials.

This was none other than the reigning sovereign: His Majesty, Hongli.

“This concubine (this slave) respectfully greets Your Majesty. May Your Majesty be in peace and health.”

“Rise.” Hongli strode quickly to Empress Fucha, reached out to help her up, and a trace of gentleness appeared on his handsome face. “The Empress need not stand on such ceremony.”

The previous greeting had been addressed to everyone; these words were spoken only to her.

Noble Consort Hui stared expressionlessly at their joined hands, a flicker of jealousy passing through her eyes.

Hongli did not notice that fleeting jealousy. To him, this selection of selection girls was little more than a routine duty. He helped Empress Fucha sit, then casually took a seat at the imperial desk himself, one hand propping up his cheek as he gave a negligent order:

“Begin.”

“Yes!” The chief eunuch sang out, “The daughter of Suchuoluo Daojin, Minister of the Court of Judicial Review—Suchuoluo Yuli, fifteen years of age.”

A tall, slender selection girl hurried forward.

Hongli narrowed his eyes and looked at her for a moment before saying,

“The wind is so strong today. It must be quite tiring to stand, isn’t it?”

“N-no, it is not tiring at all,” the selection girl quickly replied.

But her words were met with a light laugh from Noble Consort Hui:

“Indeed, Your Majesty—this one really is too thin. A single gust of wind could blow her away.”

Though Hongli said nothing more, the corners of his mouth curved in a faint smile.

The chief eunuch was an expert at reading faces. Seeing that smile, he immediately declared:

“Bestow a flower.”

A young eunuch promptly stepped forward with a silver tray bearing flowers. The thin, tall selection girl had no choice but to accept one and withdraw.

“Next: the daughter of Gan Tanglin, Director of the Imperial Stables—Gan Ruyu, sixteen years of age.”

A plump candidate, so round she had practically developed into a perfect sphere, stepped forward.

Hongli took one look and immediately burst out laughing. “How many meals a day do you eat?”

Since it was the Emperor asking, she could hardly refuse to answer. The plump candidate blushed deeply and said, “Three meals.”

“More than that,” Hongli said. “At least five, right? Otherwise how could you achieve such a figure? You’re almost catching up to the sumo wrestlers the palace keeps for entertainment.”

The palace no longer needed any more sumo wrestlers—and the inner palace certainly didn’t.

“Bestow the flower!” the chief eunuch immediately announced. “Zhangjia Ruhong, daughter of Zhangjia Sixian, Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture, aged fifteen.”

A candidate with skin as dark as charcoal stepped forward in small, hurried steps.

Already two candidates had been eliminated. The remaining selection girls trembled with nervousness, terrified that Hongli would speak to them next.

“Do you spend every day soaking up the sun slathered in soy sauce?” Yet he spoke again.

The question was so bizarre that the dark-skinned candidate let out a startled “Ah?” before shaking her head blankly. “No… this humble subject has lived deep in the inner chambers and rarely goes out to sun herself…”

“Haha!” Noble Consort Hui laughed aloud. “His Majesty is saying your face is black! Oh my, look closely—there are even spots on it!”

The dark-skinned candidate flushed crimson from the laughter, tears welling in her eyes. After receiving the bestowed flower, she turned and fled. Behind her came the chief eunuch’s announcement:

“Next—Wuya Qingdai, daughter of Wuya Xiongsan, Minister of the Imperial Clan Court, aged seventeen.”

A moment later, a beautiful woman stepped forward.

Unlike her earlier domineering and arrogant demeanor in the Imperial Garden, she now completely restrained her sharpness, presenting to the world only her most beautiful aspect—her way of walking.

Every beauty has her unique charm. Empress Fucha was like an orchid in a secluded valley; Noble Consort Hui was a national peony in full bloom. In terms of facial beauty, Wuya Qingdai could not compare to either of them. However, her gait was exceptionally light, graceful, and elegant. Among ten women walking together, anyone’s eyes would be drawn to her first.

And even if one didn’t notice her walk, they would certainly notice—

“Hm?” Noble Consort Hui suddenly raised an eyebrow. “What’s that on the ground?”

Everyone followed her gaze. Wherever Wuya Qingdai had passed, two long trails of lotus prints had bloomed among the candidates, ending precisely at her feet.

From above came Hongli’s voice: “What’s the matter with your shoes?”

He had indeed noticed…

Wuya Qingdai’s heart leaped with wild joy. Though she tried desperately to suppress it, the delight still showed on her face; even her voice trembled slightly with happiness.

“Your Majesty—this is called ‘stepping lotus with every step.’”

“Is that so?” Hongli gave a short laugh. She couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but the sound felt cold—almost menacing. The next moment she heard him say icily:

“Take off her shoes. Let Us have a look.”

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