Palace Ascension

I was disatisfied with the servant thread, and thus, this is the new form, I hope you enjoy.

The winter winds fell upon the North East, the centre of Imperial power, yet, the power of Zhijing is felt lightly. Here, in many of the thousands of districts, all leaving bloody trails through history, resided a typical family, representative of the mighty Weishun people, destined to rule the Great Zhi, forever. In the modest home, that was shaped traditionally, sat a girl, on her birthday, what is normally considered any child’s favourite day in the year. However, for this girl, it signalled the end of her comfortable life, with her loving family. Her name is Abutai, of the Cunliao Clan, a fairly inconsequential, yet relatively wealthy set of families, was Weiling District, within Aisinwehe, known to the Zheng, and to the wider international community, as Jinjieshi. Abutai’s hands shook in fear and anticipation, for her purpose was to be fulfilled, today was Palace Day. On this most holy of days, young Weishun women, upon reaching sixteen, were to be sent to Zhijing, to be allocated to members of the Imperial Clan. During the reign of the current Emperor Shensheng, who is a woman herself, and thus, required far less tributes, the Imperial Clan has imposed a looser system, wherein each household need only send their daughters on their sixteenth birthday. This far reduced the pageantry, though made life much more difficult for individual girls, who would be examined far more stringently, on an individual basis. The Emperor required no wives, and thus, Abutai was fated to marry a Prince, or an official, if she were selected, tying her fate to that of her husband, with far less luxuries. Part of her cursed this state of affairs, as many Weishun believed, that in the modern age, the powerful men of the Imperial Clan do not require the organs of the state to harvest consorts, and reforming in this mild manner only provoked further discontent, though muted, as it was. Standing still by Abutai’s side, was Mei Luoyun, who applied the appropriate cosmetics to her Mistress’ face, with very few words leaving her lightly decorated lips. Her skin was far less pale than Abutai’s, and she lacked much of Abutai’s grace, especially her trained voice, dedicated to impressing the aristocracy with feminine dignity. Mei was naturally gifted, though she kept herself restricted, never applying enough modifications to eclipse her mistress, though she easily had the ability to, with a far more spherical face, and a far more developed body. Wider hips, with more plump breasts, would serve Mei far more than Abutai, who was relatively skinny and meek. Many within Aisinwehe, as much as Abutai’s father would curse, have gradually adopted the customs of the Zheng, including, but not limited to, aesthetic choices, in both architecture and cosmetics. The face of the Weishun, over the decades, was gradually losing itself, moulding itself by cultural demands that of the Zheng. Demographically, Aisinwehe was first on the chopping block for mass replacement by the Zheng directly, through immigration by the Zheng, since the reign of Emperor Huanzhou, eighty years ago. However, in these twilight years of Weishun rule of Aisinwehe, it was standard, expected even, for households to employ Zheng women as servants, primarily to guide Weishun daughters, in their journey to adulthood. Unlike in ages past, Mei served Abutai not on the basis of race, or lineage, passed on for centuries at the earliest, but a simple, yet exorbitant wage from Abutai’s father, who served in the Imperial administration, as a local official. However, Abutai cared not, as she felt Mei’s soft application of makeup to her face end tentatively, felt her gaze along her face, no doubt examining her work, quite like the Palace servants would. Many families of Imperial consorts considered it an informal competition to not only have their daughters be accepted by the Imperial house, but also judged themselves according to the rank bestowed to their daughter, as this granted immense prestige, on both a local, and national level. This form of social mobility was distinct to the Weishun, and supposedly demonstrated Imperial values of dignity, grace, and family. Mei handed a mirror, so as to provide Abutai with the vision of what had been done, before speaking in a monotone.

“The young Mistress’ face has been perfected to the standard demanded by your father, I hope you like it.”
Accepting the mirror with a practised bow, which caused Mei to giggle with amusement. Abutai grasped the mirror lightly, fearful that it would shatter if too much pressure was applied. The face staring back at her was virtually unrecognisable, it was deathly white, almost snowy, while her hair, normally messy, was straightened, and curled around in a regal style. Abutai felt as if she were about to scream in both surprise, and horror, the visage of a zombie filled into her mind, though she contained herself enough to remember her dignity, and nodded.

“I look ghastly! The Princes will spit on me, before I can spit on them!.”
Handing the mirror back to Mei, Abutai retreated into her subconscious for a moment, wondering if she had been too harsh, though Mei responded with a slight smile, and ignored Abutai’s outburst.

“Your parents should be notified that you are ready, the journey to Zhijing shall take many hours, and the Imperial examinations will take place in the evening, for you are the radiant moon, and the moon’s light shall shine with you.”
Abutai folded her arms, and looked away indignantly, her lips contorting with contempt, as she shut her eyes tightly. She spoke sarcastically, in the tone typical of a stereotypical Weishun wife.

“Then let us pray the moon is full tonight.”
Abutai spoke in the same sarcastic tone, though spoke genuinely in her heart, for her own success, and for her family’s prosperity. Mei began making final adjustments to her mistress’ hair, while speaking in an informal, yet polite tone, knowing how to disarm Abutai’s petty rage swiftly.

“The light of the moon shall never outstrip your own, for the Gold stands out in both day and night.”
With that, Mei ventured downstairs, to fetch Abutai’s parents, who were anxiously awaiting their daughter. Downstairs, both mother and father were already dressed in their Imperial regalia. Her father, Heyian, wore his Weishun Ministerial robes of his rank, while Aihan, her mother, wore a ceremonial dress. Both had been fearfully awaiting Mei’s invitation to see their daughter, and they filed into her room hastily. Upon seeing their prized daughter dressed up into the form she would take for the rest of her life, Heyian wept, unable to bear looking directly at Abutai. He spoke with reverence, as Aihan held his hand.

“Abutai, you make us so proud today, and every day.”
Her father always seemed so commanding, in total control of both himself, and the situation, which only drove Abutai to a new epoch of fear. She glanced down at her own dress, fitted for her by the local tailor, it was vermillion laced with the sigil of the Cunliao, it conveyed a legacy, one of dignity, and modesty. The materials were rough, unfit for anything above her station yet perfect for the modest consort, awaiting the Emperor’s grace to uplift her, the lowly maiden, awaiting a hero. This romantic gesture, displayed in her clothing, was originally merely a fantasy, or a storytelling trope, yet it has evolved far beyond that; now, it serves as a virtually mandatory practice among the lower orders of the Weishun Clans. Aihun spoke next, her expression was stoic, yet with a single tear pooling in her right eye, no possible manner in which to hide the profound feelings of pride.

“Today, you may surpass us both, in honour and grace.”
Abutai’s eyes widened in apprehension, and she swiftly moved to counter, shaking her head in disbelief. Speaking spontaneously, she referenced an ancient Weishun poem, on the nature of hubris and familial unity.

“It is impossible to surpass one's own parents in honour and grace, without becoming corrupt, and forfeiting any gain. To make you both proud is the ultimate goal.”
Heyian gave a hearty laugh, no doubt remembering the day he taught Abutai that very poem, as she sat on his lap, eyes full of joy, by the famed hero Tumulin, of the Darasari Era. He wiped his tears, before affirming the purpose of the Weishun woman in the Great Zhi.

“To make your husband proud is your supreme duty. May the Emperor judge you as worthy as we do.”
Abudai nodded, and silence fell upon the room at this point, before some light exchanges of words, Heyian chauffeured Abudai outside, giving her a final hug, before leaving her with the Imperial driver, sent to transport the young girl to her destiny. Alongside her would be Mei Luoyun, as a private maid, she was permitted to join her Mistress within the Palace, provided she was well paid, and passed the Palace tests herself. This awoke some childlike glee in Mei, when she was first made aware of this little detail, months prior. From rural and idyllic Weiling, to the capital of Aisinwehe, Jiayang, the drive would be tedious, though safe, along the treacherous icy roads. Abutai had visited Jiayang once before, a booming centre of Imperial culture, reflecting the state of Aisinwehe. Pampered in spirit and ideology, yet neglected in real funding, these cities were in part owned by local Weishun Clans, who were all too happy to sponsor mass Zheng immigration to ensure a fresh, cheap labour force. The party was unable to stay, however, due to time constraints, budget cuts in the Imperial Household have rapidly caused the deterioration of pomp and circumstance in the procreation of the next generation of Imperial princes. Instead, private companies took up the responsibility of transporting prospective Princesses to the selection process, for a nominal fee. This method of ‘Princess Taxis’ has caught on heavily with middle class Zheng, particularly of the elderly generation, who had saved enough assets to move out of blue collar labour, and has greatly improved the material economy of the North East. This has come at great cost, with many of the Weishun who live in such urban centres losing touch with their very language, the language that built and maintained this great Empire, and shall nominally keep it running in perpetuity. Jiayang Railway would provide the next stage of the journey, a civilian trainline, and would last for several hours, to deliver the party to Zhijing. Along the way, many civilians, especially those in the youth, those who did not endure the same trials, jeered at us. Some, less ignorant, gave the party a wide berth, or were actively tender, one girl, who entered the train at Huiliang, who looked about eight, approached, and gave a comically incorrect bow. She ended her little ritual by gifting Abutai a bar of chocolate, with an adorable, yet fearful “My Princess”, as she scurried away to reunite with her worried looking mother. Abutai cherished that respite, chocolate would be a great luxury in the heartland of the Empire, her health was to be prioritised. Another girl, around her age, though noticeably Zheng, looked Abutai in the eyes and spoke in a melancholic tone “Happy birthday.” She stared out the window throughout the trip, until she fell into blissful slumber.