Paper: Ancient Voices

The Court Walls

Hundreds of men have passed by before my eyes

But to me, they are all simply villagers of China.

Yet, today, a special man entered the palace.

As his passing gaze found mine for a glimpse of a second,

My rigid throne melted away,

And I was walking sturdily on my own two feet,

Following his large, strong footsteps

Wherever they lead me.

Ow! My older sister, Silent Rain, flicked the back of my drooping head to keep me awake in the court of the Emperor of China, my father. Although my older sister is thin and maintains a peaceful air in front of the Emperor, she has unbelievable control of her chi, and her bony finger feels like a thunderbolt to my sleepy head. It hurts so much that my back straightens like the palace pillars, and my face cringes like a wrinkled prune. While the Emperor looks away, I turn around at my sister, sitting behind me, and give her a mean face. She only returns a meaner face, so I turn back around and stare blankly at the procession of ragged and hungry villagers that come in and beg my father foolishly for food, money, and land.

After the court is finally closed to the village people and sunset, Silent Rain’s daily scolding commences. “Are you not grateful to your father, the Great Emperor of China, who gives you food to eat, and clothes to wear, and a blanket to sleep under? Then, why can’t you stay awake and show your respect?!” I pretend to listen to her, but my mind wanders. First, I look at the pearls lined neatly in her smooth black hair, wrapped in a tight bun in the center of her head, with not a single wisp of hair out of place. Her face, too, is perfectly painted with high eyebrows, pink cheeks, and thin, red lips that open and close with fierce rage. Her clothes made of delicate golden fabric cling tightly to her thin body, that is very graceful, but very strong and powerful at the same time. The mesmerizing jade that hangs from a golden chain emphasizes her strong beauty. The only things about Silent Rain that don’t seem to match are her three-inch long feet, bound tightly in golden material. Sitting in her lavish chair and lecturing me fervently, her feet swing back and forth of the floor. I swing my feet too, as if I’m dashing out of this confining palace, but my little “golden lilies” paddle through the air in vain.

Every day, my life is the same thing. I have never been outside of this gray palace, where I have no freedom or any fun. I long to walk in an open street, breathe in some fresh air, and run and play with happy children. But instead, I must sit in my court chair all morning and afternoon, and my only play friends are the lion statues that line the palace walls and play the staring game with me. It is no use complaining to Silent Rain. She tells me I am foolish for not being happy that my father is the Emperor of China, for this fact ensures that I will never have to perform hard labor, and that I will never be without shelter, or food to eat. If my feet were normal like the feet of the commoner girls that I can sometimes see outside my window, I would sneakily climb out of my window at night, or maybe even run at full speed from the court room, in plain sight of the Emperor himself! But with these bound feet, I am hopeless.

It is morning once more, and I find myself staring at an old man on his knees, begging the Emperor for more food for his wife and five starving children. His feet are bare, and the coarse souls of his feet look very out of place in the Emperor’s refined hall. The Emperor, elevated in his golden throne and decorated in the finest clothes in all the world, denies him, just as he denies every single villager I have witnessed. I wonder what this old commoner sees as he looks at the Emperor one last time before he returns empty handed to his starving family. I wonder how he feels.

Look, here comes another villager now. This man is rather young, and his body is built very strong, as if he is a very helpful worker in his father’s field. I was trying to entertain myself by guessing what exactly he was going to ask the Emperor for. I looked directly into his eyes as he walked down the long carpet trail to the Emperor’s throne to see if he is happy, or angry, or sad. This young many looks very sad, for I see tears welling up in corners of his eyes, and his two black eyes are staring straight in my direction….

Straight in my direction? Is he looking at me?! His eyes are so beautiful and deep, not empty and distant as the other villagers who have walked here before him. When I look far enough into his black pupils, it is as if I see all of the suffering he has been through in his life as a commoner. My heart begins to beat rapidly, for I almost feel as if I am experiencing the outside world through his eyes. I crane my neck to keep looking into his eyes as he walks passed me, towards the front of the room. I nearly fall out of my chair, and I know that my sister will scold me today again, once court is dismissed. But all I can think about is this beautiful man who showed me the true world with his eyes. I know that he is my only hope of escaping the court life, my only chance at happiness. My whole body is getting warmer and my heart pounds harder and my mind races faster and faster. I hold onto the cushioned arms of my chair to keep from falling forward, as my body gets drawn in by his gravity.

Finally, the young man arrives at the end of the villagers’ carpet, and he falls humbly to his knees. As his broad, strong back hunches over his muscular legs, he calls out, “Dear Emperor, my father has fallen ill and has died this very morning. As his oldest son, I beg for your permission to become my father’s heir and inheritor of all his money and land. I will work hard, and raise a good, diligent family to serve your country.”

“Fine,” the Emperor said slowly and emphatically. “You may surely inherit your father’s money and land, if you are indeed his oldest son, as you say you are. Just remember, find yourself a good wife, who will make you lots of healthy, hardworking boys.”

“Thank you so very much, sir,” the young man said, his voice is still drowning in grief. He stood up, took another bow towards the Emperor, and turned around to leave the palace. As he turned to exit, his eyes met mine once more.

“Take me with you! Let me be your wife, and let me experience a real family of my own! Let me go outside to work hard in the fields and to try to understand what life is all about,” I shouted to him in my mind.

“Sorry. You are a court girl with bound feet, and we both know it. You will never be able to walk by yourself, much less take care of our children or harvest in the fields. You have no choice but to live here forever,” he gently and apologetically replied through the gentleness of his eyes.

As the golden doors closed behind him, I knew that I was never to see this young, handsome man ever again. I follow the sound of his footsteps as they step out of the Grand Palace, onto the firm soil of the real world. I close my eyes and see his big sturdy feet walk in the direction of his lonely and humble home in the countryside. I am left in my chair in my father’s court, paddling my golden lilies slowly in the cold air.