The flowers in the palace are exceedingly delicate and have to be tended every day. Watering, picking off inse…
The flowers in the palace are exceedingly delicate and have to be tended every day. Watering, picking off insects, and keeping them warm...not one of these tasks could be left unattended. Yet for Her Majesty the Empress Dowager, such small, fiddly chores were one of the ways she liked to pass the time. At that time, her health was still fairly sound.
Among all flowers, Her Majesty was especially fond of peonies in the brightest, richest reds. She said they bloomed with such spirit, full and generous in form, with colors so vivid they delighted her at once. And so, whenever she took a fancy to flower arranging, she would always begin by choosing a peony.
That day, however, the first flower selected was a large camellia in full bloom. It was chosen by His Majesty. When Her Majesty saw that His Majesty and the Prefect had come to Shengping Tower, she bade the two of them join her in arranging flowers and passing the time in conversation. When she asked His Majesty why he had chosen that bloom, he replied that it was as big as his face, which surely meant it must be something precious, and so it ought to be chosen. Thus, the camellia took the center of the vase, where it would catch the eye at once.
As for Her Majesty, she had no need to deliberate. She simply reached out and selected several of her favorite peonies, placing them around the camellia like they were embrace it.
At the end of this elegant pastime, only the Prefect had yet to choose a flower. He looked at the vessel, already nearly full with those lush, brilliant blooms, and slowly circled it once. He frowned, then gave a quiet sigh before finally making his choice.
The Prefect chose with the greatest care. He examined each flower one by one, considering the variety, the color, even the length of the stem. His Majesty even personally recommended several cuttings of peonies he was particularly taken with, yet the Prefect chose none of them. Her Majesty, by contrast, remained entirely unhurried, and whenever the Prefect found himself uncertain about a bloom, she would offer her opinion as well.
After about a quarter of an hour, the Prefect selected a single stalk of white plum blossom. That plum blossom had been coaxed into bloom by prolonged exposure to warmth in a heated chamber. Slender and fine, white as snow and almost as delicate as snow, it seemed as though the lightest shake would send petals fluttering down. Yet even after the Prefect circled the vase once more before finally setting that stalk of white plum blossom into the embrace of the red peonies. It swayed gently while towering high above, but it never fell apart.
And so, by the hands of the three of them, camellias, peonies, and plum blossoms were brought together into a unique arrangement. If one were to say that each had its own beauty and that those beauties differed greatly, that would be true enough. Yet set together, they did not clash in the least, and instead seemed to rest in singular harmony. Only, such a pleasing scene was never seen again.