Beijing Part II : Hall of Eternal Sorrows

After watching numerous Chinese serials on the hilarious antics of one enterprising Qing Dynasty princess, I'm sure many girls ( and some boys, I'm sure ) wish they'd led similarly charmed lives with all that elaborate pomp and pageantry.

I think the girls had better rethink that.

After several hours of wandering through every nook and cranny available to visitors in the Forbidden Palace ( and even some quite obvously not open but I snuck into them anyways ), I seriously doubt anyone would want to step into any of the ladies' dainty bound-feet shoes. Chances of gaining the royal favour of the besieged emperor to be chosen as his concubine are slim enough - chances of everlasting happiness in the glittering palaces of the Inner Court even less so.

The dissolute geishas have nothing on the femme fatale concubines of the Forbidden City. Whereas the cherry blossoms of Kyoto have to find work from time to time, these seemingly genteel peonies of Beijing have absolutely nothing to do other than plot, scheme and inveigle their way into the emperor's heart. Far from promoting supreme harmony as royal concubines, deception seems like stepmother's milk to them. And that's not even counting the thousands of wily palace eunuchs counter-plotting their personal strategems in return. From what I hear, there are higher chances of being tossed willy-nilly into a garden well, executed randomly or even poisoned over elaorate private feasts.

And those are the more fortunate ones. Even one tragic innocent who after a half dozen dramatic turns in her promising career reputedly cried herself blind.

Concubine Such lovely pastries you've made for this supper, Lady Paulina. So wonderfully fragant in the shade of this early autumn's evening.
Paulina : Made specially for you. You wouldn't believe how hard I slaved over the heated stove. I don't think even Tongrentang's remedies could possibly smoothen my pearlescent skin.
Concubine : I have just the thing in my medicine cabinet. Secret crushed pearl powder from my grandmother in Suzhou.
Paulina : How sweet of you. Unfortunately after eating that fried taro cake, you'll probably choke on your vomit and die on the way back to your chambers before you retrieve them.
Concubine : What? You.. you.. Urgh... Ack...
Paulina : But you could be right about my skin. I'll send my maid to get them.

No doubt in that particularly iniquitous past life, I was summarily poisoned myself after spending too much time trying to achieve imperial supremacy. Seems like very few of the occupants of the palace ever managed to receive joyful longevity.

Seriously. Much better to be as far away as possible from the devilish intrigues of the palace! Rather than try to achieve celestial favour with my manifest virtues, I'd rather be the sole governor of some far-flung God-forsaken ( yet shockingly hugely profitable ) province. That far away in the back of beyond, Í"d be practically a little emperor of sorts and I could have all the delicious specimens of manhood brought before me to genuflect. Bow to me, Huang Xiaoming lookalikes and show me your divine prowess!

How evil am I!

Oh yeah, some of the gardens ( Garden of Benevolent Tranquility methinks ) on the West side of the palace aren't meant to be open but during one of the construction workers' breaks ( they are busy renovating / upgrading the palace this time of the year ) I hurriedly sneaked in and out. Don't tell those sexy PLA guards. Still had time to marvel and wow over the glorious treasures of the palace even after covering every open space in the map. Though my left ankle gave out somewhere over the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Didn't mean that I was one to give up so easily since I was on my path to spreading righteousness straight to the lake district next to the palaces ( aftr a brief stop to run up Jingshan Hill and stare at the tree where an emperor reputedly hung himself ). Namely Beihai Park and the lakes beyond - Qianhai Lake. Supposedly the original capital of Kublai Khan, there's hardly any trace of Mongol Yuan culture in the aftermath of rigorous Chinese cultivation and gardening.

After spending my time trying to ( and failing to succeed ) attain central harmony by gazing over the tranquil lake waters, I gave up and hied myself to the Hall of Ripples in a bid to nourish harmony instead. Fangshan Restaurant lies in the midst reputedly serving pricey dishes once served by imperial cooks to the courts. Bear's claw intriguing though I was much more a fan of the baked sesame buns with meat filling.

Nothing as pecular as the crunchy fried seahorse I had in Wangfujing yesterday though.


The boys are out to play...
Then it was off for a mocha latte at Starbucks over at Lotus Lane while I tried my best not to ogle the Beijing hunks - who magically reappeared in the night. Beijing Boys. Hebei Hunks. Obviously curfew was over for the handsome lot - and they were out in their shirtless tee best. Curtailed my visit there though since I plan to drag Charming Calvin to one of the chichi designer bars down Lotus Lane tomorrow.

For some odd trivia, look closely at my passages and you'll find the highly descriptive names of the palaces I visited.