Chương 4: Chapter 2 (R)

Lying in the crib with nothing better to do, I immerse myself in my thoughts, trying to sort through the events of what I believe has been a month since my abrupt first awakening, since my sense of time has gone haywire, warped by the constant cycle of sleeping and waking imposed by my new body. I reflect, with a mixture of irony and frustration, on the romantic notion that infancy is the best stage of life.

Whoever claimed that surely never experienced confinement in the body of a baby, trapped in an endless cycle of the basic needs of eating, sleeping, and the humiliating dependence on others for even the most elementary personal hygiene. And to make matters worse, on top of all that I have to cry and complain every so often to keep up the act of being a baby. And all of this without any of the modern comforts a baby should have.

They put me in washable cloth diapers, there are no bottles, and I have yet to see a single electric light, only decorated paper lanterns. I have no choice but to accept that I have been reborn into a world that is technologically somewhere in what could be ancient China.

But despite these limitations and difficulties, I celebrate the small personal triumph that my vision, noticeably better than during those first days when I could only see blurry shapes, now allows me to see people clearly, even though my depth perception is still rubbish. Yet the improvement in my vision only makes me more frustrated by the immobility of my legs.

Despite the visits from what appear to be doctors, who have employed every technique imaginable, from the most basic acupuncture, which has resulted in more needles being stuck in me than in a pincushion, to making me drink some kind of horrible-tasting herbs mixed with milk that I nearly spat out, I have made no progress. The paralysis persists, a constant reminder of my new situation.

I reflect on the absence of the man who appeared on the first day, wondering whether his lack of presence is a source of relief or concern. But knowing how ancient Chinese clans were supposed to operate, or even modern ones in some places, what surprises me more is that no mother-in-law has turned up to berate my mother for giving birth to a defective baby or something of the sort.

This leads me to suppose it must be due to the status of my new family, and my attention shifts to my surroundings: an ostentatious display of wealth and good taste. The gold, gems, silk, and works of art adorning the rooms I've seen are indicative of an elevated status, probably nobility or a high-ranking official. Moreover, both the traditional qiuku I wear and the fabric of the crib are also silk, which borders on the absurd in my mind, since unfortunately I soil them with distressing regularity.

The guilt over staining them assails me from time to time, and with a nascent determination I promise myself to learn to ask to use the toilet as soon as I can do so without arousing suspicion. I also can't help thinking about everything I've left behind. I wonder about my assistants, hoping they weren't in the cave when everything collapsed.

But above all I wonder about my parents and siblings, what they must have felt upon receiving the news and having to hold a funeral without a body, since I doubt China will excavate an entire mountain to recover my corpse or find the strange door. My consolation in all this is that at least I'm not leaving anyone orphaned. Fortunately or unfortunately, having married my work and never gotten past the occasional relationship, I leave behind no children to mourn a dead mother.

But curiously, when I think about my past, my mind seems to have found a glimmer of comfort in my old passion: languages. The language surrounding me, its meaning initially alien, has begun to unveil its secrets, proving more familiar than expected thanks to my prior knowledge of Chinese. Although the learning has been surprisingly rapid, I suspect the similarity between the languages has facilitated my comprehension.

From the conversations I've caught, an increasing number of them, I've managed to deduce that my name is now Wen, since that is the name my mother and my wet nurse use when speaking to me. My mother is usually addressed as Fei Xiang, and if I recall correctly, in antiquity Fei was a title for consorts who were not principal wives of noble families.

The wet nurse, who is addressed alternately as RuNu and RuNu Lianhua, is a constant presence, though the ceaseless stream of handmaidens and the sheer number of them reinforces my belief that my new family is noble. However, some faces have become familiar, recurring in the care and attention they provide to both me and my mother, even if their names less so, owing to the habit of addressing everyone by title and, unless more than one is present, not using specific names.

That, or they're all called Nu, Zhi, or Jie. While I lay lost in thought, RuNu Lianhua, a young woman of about seventeen, appears. Her presence is always a comfort, though today she is not alone: two middle-aged women accompany her, and they look at me with a mixture of curiosity and, I assume because they know of my condition, a certain pity. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Time to get you ready, Gongzhu Wen", RuNu Lianhua tells me in her soft but firm voice as she lifts me from the crib. As she does, I notice one of the other women is holding an incredibly luxurious outfit in her arms. As they dress me I feel the oppression of the layers of clothing, almost too numerous for my small body. I want to protest at the discomfort, but I manage only incoherent complaints to maintain my role as a baby.

While they dress me, I can't help noticing they aren't wearing ordinary outfits either, but what appear to be lavish ceremonial garments. Today must be some sort of special occasion. Once I'm dressed, RuNu Lianhua lifts me carefully and says "You look beautiful, Gongzhu Wen." We leave the room and enter the one next door, where my mother awaits. Her attire takes me by surprise.

Accustomed to seeing her in luxurious but practical clothing, she is now dressed for an occasion of great importance, in garments of the kind I had only ever seen in period dramas or museums, radiating a majesty I have never witnessed. Just behind her stands the handmaiden I have come to know as Fei Yi Lingxi, since she is always at her side.

Seeing the quality of the clothing everyone is wearing, the number of servants who have passed through the rooms, and the luxuries surrounding me, a suspicion finally begins forming in my mind, only to be interrupted when RuNu Lianhua confirms everything is ready to depart.

"Then let us go", my mother replies, her voice charged with an authority that resonates in the air. The two other handmaidens who were with us open the door, and my mother steps out with her regal bearing alongside Fei Yi Lingxi, followed shortly by RuNu Lianhua, who carries me carefully in her arms, not in an ordinary way, but in a manner that seems almost ritualized.

Passing through the door, I see that the corridor on the other side is lined with what looks like an army of women, some of whom, to my utter astonishment, are armed as though they were guards. This leaves me in shock, since in Chinese culture the subject of female soldiers, beyond stories like Mulan, is virtually unheard of. This forces me to completely reconsider every assumption I might have made about this culture.

The women guards, twelve of them in total, form up around us in an escort that I quickly realize is more ceremonial than protective, and then we proceed down the corridor, with all the other handmaidens following behind us in silence. The corridor is long, very long, with numerous doors on either side, which makes me wonder just how large this house is, until we emerge into a courtyard. The courtyard is very, very large.

And turning my head as far as the uncomfortable clothing will allow, I see it is surrounded by several buildings similar to the one I've just left. Furthermore, the courtyard is filled with people. From what I can see, they are all women along with a few children, some wearing luxurious garments, others, the minority, clearly guards. As we cross the courtyard I see an enormous gate that clearly leads outside, at which eleven women in attire at least as lavish as my mother's are waiting.

As we approach, one of the women steps forward with the clear intention of saying something, but my mother cuts her off.

"Fei Zhi, they are waiting for us. Surely you don't wish to be the one who makes us late?" my mother says with a coldness that cuts like steel. The fact that my mother has addressed her as Fei reinforces my belief that it is a consort's title, and that all these women must be the other consorts. The woman she called Fei Zhi appears to bite her tongue and steps aside, after which my mother and Fei Yi Lingxi continue through the gate, followed by RuNu Lianhua and the guard escort.

Passing through the gate, I see a broad street bordered by a wall, as is typical of the large building complexes of ancient China. As we continue walking along the street, guards appear at regular intervals, men this time, who as we pass strike their spears against the ground while my suspicions continue gnawing at me. The walk is long, nearly ten minutes, until we arrive at another gate, this one even more majestic than the last.

In front of the gate stand some twenty soldiers, led by a man of around fifty, heavyset and with a thick beard. My mother stops, and the man asks in a tone that clearly indicates he knows who my mother is but some form of ritual obliges him to do so.

"Who seeks access to the center of the Empire?" he asks in a voice that resonates with authority.

"I am Fei Xiang, and I come summoned by the Son of Heaven", is my mother's answer, without a trace of doubt or fear. Upon her words, the man and the soldiers step aside, forming a corridor of honor through which we pass as the great gates swing open, revealing an enormous building that looks as though it were lifted from the Forbidden City itself. My suspicions, fueled by the words just spoken, begin making me want to start screaming to be taken away from here.

RuNu Lianhua, sensing my growing unease, begins to rock me discreetly while whispering to calm me "Easy now, Gongzhu Wen." We ascend the grand staircase leading to the palace's interior, on which every step is flanked by soldiers in armor even more lavish than those outside, one posted at each end of every stair.

We cross the wide entrance and I notice that everyone has remained behind, including the female guards, as we enter an enormous, opulent hall filled with men and a handful of women wearing elaborate, luxurious garments. My mother and RuNu Lianhua advance with me in her arms, and upon reaching a certain point in the hall, both my mother and RuNu Lianhua kneel, the latter with some difficulty given that she is carrying me.

As they kneel I cannot help looking toward the front of the hall, where, at the top of a staircase, there sits a throne occupied by a man I have little trouble recognizing. And I cannot help but confirm my terrible suspicions and scream inside my mind.

"MY FATHER IS THE DAMN EMPEROR!"