Page 23 of From Beijing, With Love

“Uh—”

“Our main stop today is the Forbidden City, which is called Zijincheng in Mandarin. It was completed in 1420 and declared a World Heritage Site in 1987,” Yang bulldozed on.

“I—”

“The construction for the Forbidden City started in 1406 and lasted fourteen years.”

Every time Daniel wanted to chime in, Yang pulled out another sentence with numbers in it like the worst party trick.

“It covers a hundred and eighty acres … almost a thousand buildings …”

It hadn’t escaped Daniel that Yang was probably overcompensating for the hand holding. Straight guys. Daniel would have rolled his eyes, but Yang looked so adorable when delivering his nerdy spiel that he couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s been home to many Chinese emperors from the Ming dynasty in 1420 all the way to the Qing dynasty—” Yang came to an abrupt stop when he saw Daniel’s face and his brows scrunched together. “Pay attention. I’ll quiz you later.”

“What do I get if I pass the quiz?” Daniel asked with a smile, leaning back on the metal gate. Along with the crowd, his anxiety had subsided a little. He was feeling more himself.

Yang smiled, his beige complexion rosy from the sun. “You’re clearly feeling better.”

“Don’t change the subject.” Daniel did his best to look serious. “What do I get?”

Yang thought about it, or at least he pretended to. “How about dinner? Real Beijing food.”

“Deal,” Daniel said, smiling as something fluttered in his stomach.

A stupid part of Daniel had assumed the Forbidden City would be … forbidden? Instead, everything was on display for all to see. Countless chambers, halls, pavilions, and palaces, all connected by narrow streets. The sheer size of the grounds took him by surprise, and what was even more impressive was that Yang led them through the whole labyrinth without a map.

Around them, everything dripped with the opulence of a bygone era, like the grand courtyard they’d just walked into, where every square inch was constructed out of gleaming white marble, including the bridge that arched over an emerald canal.

“This place is huge. It’s like”—Daniel searched for the word—“an actual city.”

Yang pondered for a second, tapping his slender finger on his chin. “Do you think that’s why they call it the Forbidden City?”

Daniel rolled his eyes, though he wasn’t all that peeved. There was something about Yang’s teasing, always done with that damn lopsided smile, that made him feel special.

“Come on. I have something to show you.” Yang bumped his shoulder into Daniel’s, like they were two people in on a secret.

At a glance, everything within the city bore the same vermillion facades and marigold roofs in unified monotony. However, when Daniel paid attention, he found something new and unique at every corner—a tiny sculpture of a mythical creature perched on an upturned eave or a new marble statue that was unlike any others.

“This is where the concubines and their servants lived,” Yang said as he led Daniel down a laneway framed by vermillion brick walls. It was just wide enough for two people to walk side by side comfortably. “You can tell how well liked a particular concubine was based on how close her residence was to the emperor’s palace.”

“God forbid the man had to walk a few extra steps to get laid.”

“Well, he wouldn’t need to walk. He’d take the palanquin,” Yang said matter-of-factly.

“Did the emperor have a lot of concubines?” Daniel asked as they walked into the courtyard residence. Compared to the rest of the Forbidden City, this one-story residence was quaint. Even though it bore the same colors as the rest of the city, it didn’t have the regal grandeur. The place seemed almost homey.

“Take this with a grain of salt: A Qing dynasty emperor was rumored to have over three hundred concubines. He’d call upon a different woman each night during his reign.” Yang led them through the small courtyard. “The concubines weren’t allowed to leave the Forbidden City at night, as they had to be ready to be called upon.”

What a shitty way to live. Daniel bit back his words. He was ready to pick up his pitchfork against an emperor who was long gone. “Who were these women?”

“Daughters of noble families were prime candidates. Becoming an imperial concubine was a huge honor, particularly if the woman was able to bear a son for the emperor.” Yang pointed to the window. “They set up a re-creation of what the concubine’s bedroom would have looked like back then. Have a look.”

Daniel peeked through the window, careful not to touch the smudge-covered glass. The small, dark room was furnished with a vanity and a canopy bed that looked to be barely larger than a single. Daniel felt for this unnamed woman from centuries ago, who’d been trapped in this fake city because her family had sold her to be someone’s concubine. For what? Fortune and power for the family or, as Yang said, honor? At the end, she was the one who paid for it all, waiting day in and day out for her sort-of husband (who was also seeing a bunch of other women) to decide that he felt like sleeping with her that night.

“Life might not have been much better outside of the Forbidden City for these women back in the days,” Yang said, his voice still matter-of-fact. “The vast majority of them were uneducated, and they weren’t allowed to hold jobs. Their primary duties were to the male figures in their lives. They belonged to their father, then their husband after marriage, then their sons in widowhood—that’s the Three Obediences of Confucianism.”

“That’s bullshit,” Daniel blurted out, then felt foolish for getting so worked up about a bygone problem. At least he hoped it was a bygone problem.