Read Imperial Woman for Free Online Page B

teachers, listened and observed. Now she spoke.
    “Is it not strange that plum blossoms and chrysanthemums are upon the same page? Is this not to confuse the seasons?”
    Lady Miao was not pleased. “It is wise not to mention confusion when speaking of Wang Wei,” she said. “If the master wishes to place plum blossoms among chrysanthemums, this is to convey a meaning. It is not a mistake. Consider that among his most famous paintings is the one of banana leaves under snow. Can it be possible that snow lies upon banana leaves? If Wang Wei paints it, then it is possible. Pray meditate upon its poetry. Some declare Wang Wei more poet than painter. I say his poems are paintings, his paintings poems, and this is art. To portray a mood and not a fact—this is ideal art.”
    While she talked she mixed the colors, choosing brushes while Yehonala watched. “You will inquire why I ask you to copy the work of Wang Wei,” the lady said. “I wish you to learn precision and delicacy. You have power. But power must be informed and controlled from within. Then only may it be genius.”
    “I would ask my teacher a question,” Yehonala said.
    “Ask,” Lady Miao replied. She was brushing fine quick strokes upon a large sheet of paper spread upon a square table which the eunuch had brought to her side.
    “When may I paint a picture of my own?” Yehonala asked.
    Her teacher held her hand poised for an instant and cast a sidelong look from her narrowed eyes. “When I can no longer command you.”
    Yehonala did not reply. The meaning was clear. When she was chosen by the Emperor then Lady Miao could not command her, for then no one could command her save the Emperor himself. She would be raised too high for any other to be above her. She took up her brush and began carefully to copy plum blossoms among chrysanthemums.
    Sometime in the night, she did not know the hour, she was wakened by hands shaking her shoulders. She had not been able to sleep early, and when at last her eyes had closed, she had fallen deeply into sleep. Now she came up from a well of darkness and struggling to open her eyes, she heard the voice of her serving woman.
    “Wake, wake, Yehonala! You are summoned! The Son of Heaven calls—”
    She woke instantly. Her mind leaped to alertness. She pushed back the silken quilts and stepped down from the high bed.
    “I have your bath ready,” the woman whispered. “Quick—get into the tub! I have poured perfume into the water. I have put out your best robe—the lilac satin—”
    “Not lilac,” Yehonala said. “I shall wear the peach pink.”
    Other women were coming into the chamber, waked from their sleep and yawning, the tiring woman, the hairdresser and the keeper of the jewels. Concubines were not given imperial jewels until they were summoned.
    Yehonala knelt in her bath and her woman soaped her body well and washed away the foam.
    “Now step out upon this towel,” the woman said. “I will rub you dry. The seven orifices must be perfumed, the ears especially—the Emperor loves a woman’s ears. You have small and beautiful ears. But do not forget the nostrils—and the privacies I must attend to myself.”
    To all such ministrations Yehonala submitted without a word. Haste—haste was the necessity. The Emperor was awake, he was drinking wine and eating small hot breads filled with flavored meats. The news was brought again and again to the door by Li Lien-ying.
    “Do not delay,” he hissed in a hoarse voice through the curtains. “If the one he wants is not ready, then he will call for another. His dragon’s temper is easily roused, I can tell you.”
    “She is ready,” the serving woman cried. She thrust two jeweled flowers behind Yehonala’s ears and pushed her out the door.
    “Go, my precious, my pet,” she whispered.
    “Oh, my little dog,” Yehonala cried. The small creature was at her heels.
    “No, no,” Li Lien-ying shouted. “You may not take your dog!”
    But Yehonala, suddenly