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matter beforehand might seem impertinent.”

“I understand.”

“Then I have to catch her on a good day. I can always tell her mood as soon as I come into her presence. On a bad day, she’ll take a delight in telling me no. On a good day, she’ll smile and ask me how much I’m being bribed.”

“She will?” Shi-Rong asked, alarmed.

“Of course. Everyone in the palace is bribed. It will amuse her.”

“But then she’ll know it’s me who bribed you.”

“I doubt she’ll care. I don’t suppose she’s ever heard of you.”

Shi-Rong sighed. It was painful to hear such a thing from this eunuch, but it was probably true.

“The Dowager Empress was born quite poor,” the eunuch went on. “She still had nothing when her son was born, or even when his father died. Her existence was uncertain. You may have heard that Prince Sushun wanted to kick her out. He may even have planned to kill her. But then, as we all know, Prince Gong triumphed, Sushun was executed, and his huge estate was given to Cixi and the widowed empress. Suddenly, for the first time in her life, Cixi had a lot of money. And like many people so blessed, she’s generous. By fits and starts, of course. But she loves it when her servants get rich, too. It makes her happy.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“Of course, your getting one of the salt inspector positions won’t actually cost her anything. Once you have the post, you’ll take your cut of all the salt tax that belongs to the state—which is theft, really. But then so would anyone else who got the job, so it makes no difference. And I will have received a bribe from you, and she likes me, so that’s all right.”

“You have a charming way of putting things,” said Shi-Rong. He was starting to resent Lacquer Nail, and the eunuch knew it, but it didn’t seem to worry him. Shi-Rong imagined Lacquer Nail was quite enjoying the spectacle of a man so superior to himself being forced to look at the uncomfortable truth. Instead of being angry, therefore, he took the opportunity to ask something he’d often wondered about. “Tell me,” he inquired, “what does the dowager empress really want from her position these days? What else makes her happy?”

“Ah.” Lacquer Nail nodded. It seemed he liked this question, for he thought for a few moments before replying. “First,” he replied, “I think she just wants to survive. A dozen years ago, as we’ve just said, she nearly didn’t.”

“That is understandable.”

“Second, she’d like to enjoy herself a bit, as any person would. But in her position, that is not easy. She’s just turning forty. She may not be conventionally pretty, but she has the same needs as any woman of her age. Her whole position, however, depends on her being the official mother of the boy emperor. So she probably can’t risk taking lovers.” He paused reflectively. “If she wasn’t so strong-minded she might have taken to opium. But she loves the theater. She can afford troupes of actors and dancers. In court, the parts are mostly played by eunuchs, you know. So we all have fun at that.”

“They say she’s extravagant: wanting to rebuild the Summer Palace when we still haven’t recovered from the Taiping and the Opium Wars. They call her a spendthrift.”

“They call her all kinds of names. Officials who get on the wrong side of her say she’s a dragon lady. I know palace people who call her Old Buddha—which seems a bit premature—because they think she’s inscrutable. But in my opinion, they’ve all missed the point. To understand what the dowager empress does, one has to forget the person and look at the situation.”

“Which is that the empire’s ruined.”

“Yes. And it’ll take us years to recover. But what’s she to do in the meantime? She has to give her people hope.” Lacquer Nail paused. “What was the greatest single catastrophe, would you say, during the Opium Wars?”

“The burning of the Summer Palace, certainly.”

“Indeed. And it wasn’t only the destruction; it was the humiliation. A blackened ruin at the heart of our empire.” He paused. “I was there, you know, and saw the whole thing. I even fought the barbarians myself with a sword, killed two of them.”

“You fought?” Despite himself, Shi-Rong couldn’t quite keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Lacquer Nail observed him coldly. “You do not believe me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It doesn’t matter. Today,” the eunuch went on, “the barbarian powers still encircle us like hungry rats, trying to steal whatever they can. Cixi hates it. She also knows that we can’t do much about it. Not yet. Not until we get stronger. But at least she can start rebuilding a part of the Summer Palace to show that the empire means to get its dignity back.”

The eunuch was no fool, Shi-Rong thought. Yet something was missing from this explanation. And because he felt at such an uncomfortable disadvantage in the interview so far, he pressed on when he should have remained silent. “But the Summer Palace was still, at the end of the day, a private pleasure ground,” he pointed out. “It’s not as if the emperor performed the ritual sacrifices there, if you see what I mean. It’s more about art and display than about the serious business of the state.”

Did he realize that he was indirectly suggesting the eunuch was frivolous? Or was he so busy constructing his proposition that he hadn’t considered the bricks of which it was built?

“The ritual sacrifices are ceremonies,” Lacquer Nail replied coolly, “with a correct procedure. That’s a display, of a kind. If the emperor goes through the streets, there are finely dressed attendants, soldiers, drummers. Display again. For how do the people know there’s order in the empire? Only by ceremony. Because ceremony is what they see. Wouldn’t you agree?” He stared at Shi-Rong until the mandarin bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Anyway,” Lacquer Nail went on blandly, “people like parades.

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