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taels over his head. Mother was nowhere to be seen. She must have been hiding inside her sedan chair, crying.
    “Goodbye!” My tears fell freely as the Gate of Zenith slammed shut.
    If it hadn’t been for Chief Eunuch Shim’s voice, which kept giving orders, making us turn left or right, I would have believed that I was in a fantasy world.
    As I walked, a group of palatial buildings presented themselves. They were solemn in atmosphere and gigantic in size. Glazed yellowroofs glistened in the sunshine. Slabs of carved marble lay under my feet. Not until I saw the Hall of Supreme Harmony did I realize that what I was seeing was just the beginning.
    For the next two candle-times, we passed ornate gates, spacious courtyards and hallways with carvings on every beam and sculptures in every corner.
    “You are taking the side ways, which are the paths for servants and court officials,” Chief Eunuch Shim pointed out. “No one except His Majesty uses the center entrance.”
    We walked through empty space after empty space. No one was there to see our elaborate dresses. I recalled Big Sister Fann’s advice: “The Imperial walls have eyes and ears. You’ll never know which wall conceals the eyes of His Majesty Emperor Hsien Feng or Grand Empress Lady Jin.”
    The air felt heavy in my lungs. I glanced around and compared myself to the other girls. We all had painted faces in the same Manchu style. On the lower lip was a rouge dot, and the hair was coiled around the head in two parts. Some girls wound their tails all the way up to the top of the head and draped them with glistening jewels and jade flowers, birds or insects. Some used silk to create an artificial plate, pinned with ivory clips. Mine was a swallowtail wig, which took Big Sister Fann hours to fasten onto a thin black board. A large purple silk rose was pinned to the center of the board, with two pink ones on each side. Also in my hair were fresh white jasmines and orchids.
    The girl who walked next to me wore a heavily laced headpiece. It was in the shape of a flying goose and was draped with pearls and diamonds. Yellow and vermilion threads were braided in patterns. The headpiece reminded me of those worn in Chinese operas.
    As a shoemaker I naturally paid attention to what the girls wore on their feet. I used to think that if I knew nothing else, I knew shoes. But what I saw put my knowledge to shame. Every pair of shoes the girls wore was encrusted with pearls, jade, diamonds and embroidered patterns of lotus, plum, magnolia, Buddha’s hand and peach flower. The sides of the shoes were crowded with the symbols of fortune and longevity, fish and butterflies. As Manchu ladies, we didn’t bind our feet as Chinese ladies did, but we didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be fashionable, which was why we wore extra-high platform shoes. The intent was to make our feet look smaller, like Chinese feet.
    My feet began to feel sore. We passed through glades of bamboo and larger trees. The path became narrower and the staircases steeper witheach turn. Chief Eunuch Shim hurried us along, and all of the girls grew short of breath. Just when I thought we had reached a dead end, a grand view unexpectedly revealed itself. I held my breath as a sea of golden roofs suddenly spread out before me. I could see the massive gatehouses of the Forbidden City in the distance.
    “Where you are standing is called Prospect Hill.” Chief Eunuch Shim rested his hands on his waist and drew in big breaths. “It is the highest spot in all of Peking. Ancient
feng shui
experts believed that this area possessed the most vital energy and spirits of wind and water. Girls, take a moment to remember this, because most of you will never get a chance to see this again. We are lucky to have a clear day. The sandstorms from the Gobi Desert are resting.”
    Following Chief Eunuch Shim’s finger, I saw a white pagoda. “That Tibetan-style temple houses the spirits of the gods who have protected the