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fingers on the table. My brother went the other way. He was disoriented, careless and lazy. He gave up his books and would do nothing to help.
    All day long at work I listened to Big Sister Fann’s stories of men of charm and intelligence, men who spent their lives on horseback, conquered their foes and became emperors. I went home only to face the reality that I would be married to Bottle before spring.
    Mother called from her bed, and I sat down beside her. I couldn’t bear looking at her face. She was bone-thin. “Your father used to say, ‘A sick tiger that loses its way on a plain is weaker than a lamb. It can’t fight wild dogs who come to feast.’ Unfortunately that is our fate, Orchid.”
    One morning I heard a beggar singing in the street while I was brushing my hair:
    To give it up is to accept your fate.

To give it up is to create peace.

To give it up is to gain the upper hand, and

To give it up is to have it all.
    I stared at the beggar as he passed my window. He raised his empty bowl toward me. His fingers were as dry as dead branches. “Porridge,” he said.
    “We are out of rice,” I said. “I have been digging up white clay from my yard and mixing it with wheat flour to make buns. Would you like one?”
    “Don’t you know that white clay clogs the intestines?”
    “I know, but there is nothing else to eat.”
    He took the bun I gave him and disappeared at the end of the lane.
    Sad and depressed, I walked to Big Sister Fann’s in the snow. When I arrived I picked up my tools and sat down on the bench and started to work. Fann came in with breakfast still in her mouth. She was excited and said she saw a decree posted on the city wall. “His Majesty Emperor Hsien Feng is looking for future mates. I wonder who the lucky girls will be!” She described the event, which was called the Selection of Imperial Consorts.
    After work I decided to go and take a look at the decree. The direct route was blocked, so I weaved through the lanes and alleys and got there by sunset. The poster was written in black ink. The characters were blurred from the wash of wet snow. As I read it, my thoughts began to race. The candidates had to be Manchu, to keep the purity of the Imperial bloodline. I remembered Father once told me that among four hundred million people in China, five million were Manchu. The poster also said that the girls’ fathers had to be at least the rank of Blue Bannerman. That was to ensure the girls’ genetic intelligence. The poster further declared that all Manchu girls between the ages of thirteen and seventeen must register with their state for the selection. None of the young Manchu women were allowed to marry until the Emperor had passed them up.
    “Don’t you think I have a chance?” I cried to Big Sister Fann. “I am a Manchu and seventeen. My father was a Blue Bannerman.”
    Fann shook her head. “Orchid, you are an ugly mouse compared to the concubines and court ladies I have seen.”
    I drank from a bucket of water and sat down to think. Big Sister Fann’s words discouraged me, but my desire was not diminished. I learned from Fann that the Imperial court would review the candidates in October. Governors all over the nation would send out scouts to gather beautiful girls. The scouts were ordered to make lists of names.
    “They missed me!” I said to Big Sister Fann. I found out that the Im-perial household was in charge of this year’s selection, and the beauties from each state were being sent to Peking for the household committee to review. The chief eunuch, who represented the Emperor, was expected to inspect more than five thousand girls and select about two hundred from among them. Those girls would be presented to Grand Empress Lady Jin and Emperor Hsien Feng for viewing.
    Big Sister Fann told me that Hsien Feng would select seven official wives, and that he would be free to “reward happiness” to any court ladies or maids in the Forbidden City. After the official