Here's another installment in the story about Xuanzong (historical fiction):
Part 3
The next big event in my life is another moment I won’t ever forget. I was eight years old at the time. My mother died. Well, she didn’t just die- my grandmother had her killed! For some reason, my grandmother thought that my mom and my dad’s wife (my mom isn’t my dad’s wife- my mom was one of the servants in the palace) were working together to take over the country. My grandmother wanted to be the only one to rule the country so she had both of them killed. The sad part about it is that no one knew what was going on. I was having a history lesson when I heard the shouting. Then a few minutes later someone came and told me that my mom died. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her.
After that moment, Goo Goo made sure that I was ok and that my grandmother wouldn’t hurt me. I don’t remember ever talking with my grandmother, especially after this. I saw her being carried on a fancy carrier or in chariots getting ready to leave the palace to go out, but it was always from far away. She was a complainer and usually had something to gripe about: the carriage was too dirty for her or the horses didn’t look good or even the people driving the carriage were looking sloppy. Nothing ever seemed good enough for her! After she left, each time I could hear the servants complain about her.
I remember one time in particular that was hilarious. I was walking from one building to another inside the palace walls when I heard her voice. Actually, just about everyone could’ve heard her that day because she was yelling at this person, and then that person. I stood next to the building, along with one or two of the servants, watching what was going on.
“The steamed buns and baozi (filled steamed buns) were horrible this morning! I expect better!” She complained. It seemed that she was talking with one of the cooks.
“Yes, your highness,” he said. The poor guy. You could tell, even from far away, that he was one of the newer cooks.
“I expect all of my cooks to be the best cooks in this country and you are certainly not one of them!” She said. “Anyone can make steamed buns and baozi. I don’t know how to cook but even I can make them!” She said. Now, to be honest, steamed buns are actually quite hard to make. Baozi are even harder because you have to get the filling right and then wrap the dough around it before steaming it. I had never seen my grandmother enter the kitchen. I doubted she could even boil an egg!
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, looking at the ground.
“Don’t “ma’am” me- it’s “your highness” to you! Now, were you or were you not the one to make the steamed bun that I ate for breakfast?” She asked.
“Actually, your highness, I was only the one who delivered them to your room. I can pass along your message to the head cook if you’d like, your highness.”
“No, I expect more. Go back to the kitchen and bring him in.” She said.
Within a few minutes, the head cook came.
“Your highness. I heard that something was wrong with your breakfast today.”
“Yes, the baozi and the steamed buns were horrible today! I wanted bean paste in the baozi and plain steamed buns but today I got bean paste on the steamed buns and vegetable baozi!”
“Yes, your highness. Yesterday you specifically requested to have bean paste on the baozi and plain steamed buns today for breakfast,” said the cook. The cook was one of the few people who weren’t afraid of my grandmother because he knew how hard it would be to find a replacement if he was fired.
“Did I?” She asked.
“Yes, you had one of your servants ask us specifically about this yesterday afternoon.” The cook explained.
“Did I? Oh, well, I forgot. Tomorrow I want better!” She said.
“Do you mean that you want to have bean baste in the baozi and plain steamed buns for breakfast tomorrow, your highness?” Asked the cook.
“Yes, yes, whatever you think best,” she said and looked around like she couldn’t be bothered about it anymore.
My grandmother was like this, especially the few years before she died. You never knew what would get you in trouble or how quickly she changed. Many times I was thankful I wasn’t a servant. My strategy was to avoid her at all costs.
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