Noble Blood - The Ghosts that Haunted the Female Emperor

Episode Date: February 18, 2020

In 7th-century China, Wu Zetian went from low-tiered concubine to Empress and then, finally, to Emperor in her own right. Her legacy is murky and strange, and her rise to power is trickled with blood.  Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-heart podcast. Guaranteed Human. What's up, everyone? I'm Ago Vodam. My next guest, it's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. He goes, just give it a shot.

But if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, The cat, just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck.

Listen to Thanks, Dad, on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of IHeart Radio and Aaron Manky. Listener discretion is advised. On the day of Wuzatian's coronation, the day the woman who had ruled by proxy for decades behind her husband and then her son would finally take the throne in her own. right, an earthquake hit China. It roared through the province, leveling homes and raising the already jagged edges of the mountain range north of the Yangtze River. The earthquake's meaning seemed obvious to any brave enough to allow the thought to enter their head. A woman becoming the emperor upset the natural order of things. The earth itself was rejecting Wu Zetian, her

manipulations, her power-hungry assent. But Wu had not become the emperor of China by accepting things as they were. The earthquake was not a bad omen, she remarked to the noblemen who surrounded her that afternoon, but a blessing. Those jagged mountain ranges that had been thrust into the sky with the shaking of the earth were a symbol of the Buddhist mountain of paradise. As she was becoming China's ruler, Sumeru was coming to earth. But that night when she went to bed, Wu Zatian didn't think of mountains or paradise. Instead, in her dreams, she was visited once again by the ghosts of a concubine named Xiao and a former empress named Lady Wang. The two of them never said anything. They hadn't since they first began coming to Wu Zatian's dreams decades ago when she was

was still just the wife of an emperor. The ghosts had no hands and no feet. Their limbs were left bloody. But they didn't seem to be in pain. They just floated in the night, looking at Wu, asking her with their eyes, what she had done and whether it had been worth it. I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. Wu Zatian had needed to be incredibly beautiful. to be selected to be a concubine for Emperor Taizong. She was only 14 at the time, plucked from her well-to-do family in the year 636 AD. She would stay at the palace and serve in the imperial household. But still, it was just a junior position and being a third or fourth or fifth tiered concubine, as Wu was,

was more of an honorary title than anything else in this case. Young women at that level would be lucky to get even a few men. minutes of face time with the emperor, the man who could raise their station and allow them any sorts of social advancement with the flick of a wrist. But Wu was assigned to work as a laundress. That was her first advantage. She changed the emperor's bedsheets. That was where he first noticed her, a girl with bright inquisitive eyes and clear skin and a well-practiced guilelessness. Wu came from a wealthy family. Her father had encouraged her read and to study. And so she charmed the emperor not just with her beauty, but with her mind,

the two of them discussing books and ideas, with Wu acting more as a secretary than as an object of pleasure. Living at the palace, Wu befriended the emperor's son, the boy who would go on to become Emperor Gao Zhong. She was only a few years older than him, and she often caught him looking at her when she went about her daily chores. It was he one day who interrupted her while she was folding sheets to tell her that the entire court was gathered outside to watch a new stallion in the courtyard that refused to be broken. The horse was called lion stallion, and it seemed that no one was up to the task of riding him. The pair of them raced downstairs to watch the show. The horse trainer yanked at the range while the horse snorted and whipped its head

back and forth in defiance. Before along, a new rider came forth, walking with a swagger that hid any hint of fear. He had the trainer step aside, and he took the horse's reins in his own hand. In one fluid motion, he swung a leg over the horse and pulled himself onto its back. In another fluid motion, the horse bucked and flung the man into the dirt. There was silence for a few seconds, as the crowd considered whether anyone was going to try again, or whether they should just disperse and go about their day. The Emperor looked around. I'll break the horse, said a small voice from the crowd.

It was Wu standing next to the prince. The Emperor looked over at the girl and smiled. Will you now? Wu stepped forward and lowered her shoulders. I will. I only need three tools. The emperor laughed and the rest of the crowd joined him. And what tools might those be? When Wu spoke, her voice never shook. Her lips never lifted and even the hint of a smile. I will need an iron whip, an iron hammer, and a dagger. I will whip the horse with the iron whip. If it doesn't submit, I'll hammer its head with the iron hammer. And if it still refuses to, To submit, I'll cut its throat with a dagger. That will break the horse. The emperor's eyes gleamed.

It was only after he started laughing that Wu Zatian smiled to, just a little bit. She had caught the emperor's attention yet again with her bravery, and he wouldn't forget her now. But service to an emperor is a short-term job prospect. When Emperor Taizong died, all of his concubines, or rather the concubine who had, hadn't born to many children, were forced to shave their heads and retreat to a temple to live the rest of their lives as Buddhist nuns. It was the greatest disrespect for a woman who had served the emperor to be touched by any other man. Wu had no choice, and she knew that. Life has rules and paths for people to follow. Even witty, beautiful, charming young girls who had once dazzled all

of court with a glistening moment of bravery must retire to a countryside life and let other younger dazzling girls try their hands at the game of court. Resent it, fight it, cry about it, the future still happened. We don't know if Wu cried when she shaved her beautiful, thick hair, when she gave away her things, when she arrived at the modest Gante temple where she was supposed to spend the rest of her life. What we do know, is that even if she did cry, she never would have let anyone see it. Even with her head shaved, she was still beautiful, but no one noticed in the temple. The wife of Emperor Gao Zhang had a problem. Well, she had several problems.

Her husband was sickly, prone to bouts of disease, and he was young, only 21 when his father, Emperor Taizong, died, and he, Gao Zhong, had been given the throne. If his older brothers hadn't been disgraced, he wouldn't have been made emperor at all. That was one of Lady Wang's problems, her weak and ineffective husband. But by far her biggest worry, the thing that kept her pacing the palace walls and chewing at her fingernails, was one of her husband's concubines, consort Zhao. Consort Zhao was beautiful, and that was fine. Concubines are supposed to be beautiful. But she was also charming. And worst of all, she had a son and two daughters with her. the emperor. The empress, Lady Wang, didn't have any sons, and she was having difficulty

maintaining another pregnancy. And that became all the more difficult because her husband was spending all of his time with Zhao. She had beguiled him and raptured him. He was a man obsessed. The empress knew that the emperor would have concubines, but why did he have to be so obvious in choosing a favorite? His attention diverted to a dozen concubines was no threat. He was no threat. He was a threat. An individual woman was. One afternoon, before heading off to spend the rest of the day lounging in Zhao's chambers, Amber Gao Zhong mentioned to his wife that he had been to the Buddhist temple and he had recognized one of the nuns there. It's so funny, he remarked. Even with her shaved head, I would have recognized her anywhere. She was one of my father's concubines, but I had such a crush on

her. I would follow her around like a puppy. He left, and Lady Wang left to go to the Buddhist temple. When she arrived, she asked for Wu Zotian. The nun, now 27, came to the empress with her eyes downturned. The empress informed Wu that the time had come for her to return to court, and that she should stop shaving her head. Wu accepted. And so, a former concubine turned Buddhist nun,

came to court with hair slowly growing out under the watchful protection of the Empress Lady Wang. Consort Zhao knew what the Empress was doing, but still her legacy was secure. She had given the emperor's son, and she was still his favorite. Even if he found a new temporary plaything, Wu couldn't hold his attention for long.

The tragedy of Zhao's life began when she underestimated Wu Zed As for Empress Wang, she was making a calculated bargain, a gamble, one woman for another. But the problem with gambling is people tend to lose. Before long, Emperor Gao Zhong was gleeful at the return of Wu Zatien to court. She was the manifestation of all of his childish fantasies. Hers was the face he had seen behind his closing eyes before he went to bed back when he was young and everything was still new. Without a moment's thought to how it would look, he made her an official concubine. And it didn't look great. There was a reason concubines were sent to temples

after their emperor died, and the new emperor bringing back an old concubine was even more troublesome when the new emperor was the old emperor's son. Whispering voices considered the situation incestuous, a son lying with the same woman as his father. But Gaozong didn't care. He was the emperor now, and he had Wu Zotian. And now as an adult woman, Wu better understood the mechanisms of court and power. She understood that she was a woman and that her access to power was restricted. But she would not be flung back to a temple, disposed of as a dead man's property, not a And even as Emperor Gao Zhong's concubine, she was still disposable. The two sons she would go on to bear him didn't mean anything if his wife, Empress Wang,

decided that she had enough social capital to get rid of her. And then there were still Zhao, still the emperor's favorite, even after all that. Though he spent less time with her, she still had a particular hold on him, a way that he responded to her quicker than he did with Wu. Zhao was a threat and Wu hated threats. Wu was particularly vulnerable after giving birth to her third child, a daughter. After delivery, Wu was confined to her chambers, and though the emperor visited her, giving her little gifts and kisses on her head,

he had fallen back into Zhao's bed, and the baby made the empress hate Wu even more. The woman that she had brought to the palace had turned into a walking reminder of her own failings. With each new baby that Wu gave the emperor, Empress Wang became all the more painfully aware of what she couldn't do. One day, Empress Wang came to visit Wu and saw the new mother cooing over her baby in its cradle. You must be tired, Empress Wang said. Wu agreed. Wang held the baby and the little girl giggled in her arms.

Take a walk, Wang said. Relax, I can take care of the baby for the night and put her to sleep. Wu wanted to protest, but she wasn't sure on what grounds. Wang was the empress, after all, and truth be told, she did desperately need a moment to herself. And so she smiled, and Wang smiled back at her. And Wu kissed her baby girl goodbye and left the palace to walk the grounds where she could be alone with her thoughts. She spent the night with the emperor, secretly pleased at the idea that Zhao was somewhere

fuming and the empress was gazing at her baby with envy. The next morning, Wu returned to her baby's room to find the little girl sleeping peacefully in bed, so peaceful, in fact, that she didn't stir when Wu approached, or when Wu placed a hand gently on the baby's back. The realization came through Wu's body. like a slow drip of acid, a realization that curdled through her throat down into her belly and made her head spin and mouth taste like copper. She began to wail. Much later, when she had stopped wailing, when she was once again alone, she thought about what had happened.

The emperor's wife, Lady Weng, had murdered her baby, had placed her hand. on the mouth of the infant child and held it until the baby stopped moving. She had been so jealous of Wu how easily she had gotten pregnant over and over again. Empress Wang wasn't capable of doing the murder on her own.

No, she wasn't able to kill a child, but she had been goaded on by consort Zhao. Zhao was also jealous. She knew that the emperor had been spending more time with Wu and wanted to get back at her. She was so desperate to become the favorite it again that she was willing to join Lady Wang and help her kill a child.

At least, that's the story Wu Zetian told the emperor. Lady Wang had no alibi. She had been the last one to hold the baby, and she had been the one to put her to bed. And so, spurned on by Wu Zatian's passion and rage, the empress and the emperor's one-time favorite consort were imprisoned. Wu Zetian, victim of tragedy, became the emperor's new wife, his empress, one dead child for the throne of China. And it was the throne. Gao Zong was so sickly it was Wu who truly ruled. She would never admit it out loud, only to herself in quiet moments when her heartbeat slowed and she was alone.

But it had been worth it. The former Empress Wang and Zhao, once despised enemies, were locked together in a tiny cell, a room with no windows and just a single narrow slot for food to be shoved through once a day. Six days after their imprisonment, the emperor came to visit them. Through the wall, they threw themselves upon his mercy. Oh, beloved husband, Wayne cried, if you ever had love for me, please either. this imprisonment, please, just let us see sunlight. The emperor had always been easily swayed, and it broke his heart to know that two women he had loved were so despondent, even if they had

murdered his daughter. He came to his new Empress Wu Zatien and asked her if they might grant at least small mercies to the women she had ousted. Wu saw what her feeble husband couldn't, how easily mercy became forgiveness, became love again, became anger towards her Wu for locking them up in the first place. She had sacrificed so much to reach where she was. She had lost a daughter for it. And so she insisted to her husband that the women be killed. He acquiesced. According to rumors, Empress Wu Zatien had their hands lopped off. off at the wrist, and their feet cut off at the ankles, and both women tossed into vats of wine where they would drown slowly. Let those bitches get drunk to their bones, they say

Wu Zotian remarked. Colorful as it is, it isn't true. Wuzatian just had her rivals hanged. But even in death, they tormented her. They visited her every night, silently staring, sentinels in judgment, with blood dripping like tears from their eyes. It became so miserable, so tortuous, that Wu had the entire court moved to a different palace, miles away, where she thought the ghosts of her past wouldn't be able to find her. What's up, everyone? I'm Ego Wodeham. My next guest, you know from Step Brothers, Anchorman, Saturday Night Live, and The Big Money Players Network. It's Will Farrell. My dad gave me the best advice ever.

I went and had lunch with him one day, and I was like, and dad, I think I want to really give this a shot. I don't know what that means, but I just know the groundlings. I'm working my way up through, and I know it's a place that come look for up and coming talent. He said, if it was based solely on talent, I wouldn't worry about you, which is really sweet. Yeah. He goes, but there's so much luck involved. And he's like, just give it a shot.

He goes, but if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck. Listen to Thanks Dad on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcast.

You can have opinions. You can have like a strong stance. And then there's your body having its own program. I'm Dr. Maya Shunker, a cognitive scientist and host of the podcast, a slight change of plans, a show about who we are and who we become when life makes other plans. We share stories and scientific insights to help us all better navigate these periods of turbulence and transformation. There is one finding that is consistent, and that is that, our resilience rests on our relationships. I wish that I hadn't resisted for so long the need to

change. We have to be willing to live with a kind of uncertainty that none of us likes. Listen to a slight change of plans on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Woo is buried beneath a massive stone slab that looks all the more massive because there's nothing written on it. It's completely blank. The Tang Dynasty emperors were meant to be buried under blank tablets so that later the full scope of their accomplishments could be written down. No one wrote about what Wu had achieved during her reign, nor would she had achieved during the proxy reign when she ruled behind her husband or when she had ruled behind her son. And then, when she overthrew her son and eventually became emperor in her own right, there were many accomplishments. She made Buddhism, the official state religion, stabilized power, weeded out corruption,

allowed commoners to hold political positions that had previously been restricted to them. But she was also brutal, executing nobles who threatened her powers, letting gossip and word of mouth serve as death sentence to people around her in the government. The story of her initial rise to power, the death of her infant child, became a story of her cold-blooded. They say that Wu had been the one to suffocate her daughter herself, that she saw the opportunity to frame and dispatch her rivals, and she took it. There's no way to know for sure, or to know if maybe the infant had just died in her sleep. Unfortunately, unlike Noble Blood episodes that focus on more recent royal figures,

there are very few primary sources about the life of Wu Zetian in the 7th century. writings about her tend to be either political propaganda written to bolster her reputation, or slander's accusations of out-and-out villainy from those who resented the amount of power held by a woman. Even the story of the earthquake from her coronation is unconfirmed. Even mountains can't be set in stone when it comes to Wu Zetian. I've tried to find a human story in the facts I could find, and I told a version of her story that makes sense to me. But in this case, I can't promise it's all entirely true,

and I don't know what the genuine version of the truth is. They didn't carve her legacy on her funeral slab because they couldn't figure out what it was. It was a decision of scorn and confusion, but a decision that's still made about women today. When we can't fully understand a woman, we choose instead to leave her blank. Noble Blood is a production of IHeartRadio and Aaron Mankey.

The show is written and hosted by Dana Schwartz and produced by Aaron Manke, Matt Frederick, Alex Williams, and Trevor Young. Noble Blood is on social media at Noble Blood Tales, and you can learn more about the show over at Noble Bloodtales.com. For more podcasts from IHeartRadio, visit the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. What's up, everyone? I'm Egobode. My next guest. It's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. He goes, just give it a shot.

But if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck. Yeah.

Listen to Thanks, Dad, on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is an IHeart podcast, guaranteed human.