A Morning in the Forbidden City

On the twentieth day of the third lunar month, the young emperor, typically difficult to rouse from sleep, awoke unusually early. Despite the lingering fatigue that often accompanied his royal duties, he felt a spark of anticipation—this day promised diversion after the solemn rituals of court life. As dawn broke over the crimson walls of the Forbidden City, the emperor prepared for his morning studies, knowing that later entertainments awaited him. By nine o’clock, his academic session concluded when the chief eunuch, An Dehai, arrived at the Hongde Hall with an edict from the empress dowagers: lessons were dismissed early. The emperor proceeded to the inner palace to attend the two dowagers, Empress Dowager Ci’an and Empress Dowager Cixi, for a meal and theatrical performances at the Shufang Pavilion.

This was no ordinary day—it was the emperor’s birthday, a occasion marked by subtle tensions and elaborate ceremonies. The Forbidden City, home to China’s imperial family for nearly five centuries, operated on strict hierarchies and unspoken rules. Every gesture, every word, carried weight. For the young emperor, navigating the expectations of his role under the watchful eyes of the dowagers and their attendants was a daily exercise in balance between tradition and personal inclination.

The Birthday Rituals and a Fateful Prank

Before the meal, the emperor’s closest eunuchs and palace maids approached to offer their birthday greetings. In keeping with custom, the emperor distributed gifts—each received a small silk pouch containing a gold ingot weighing one tael. All, that is, except An Dehai. The chief eunuch, known for his ambition and influence, particularly with Empress Dowager Cixi, stood apart, expecting special treatment.

The emperor’s voice cut through the formal atmosphere. “Xiao Anzi!” he called, using the familiar diminutive. An Dehai responded with practiced deference, stepping forward with a theatrical flourish—a blend of respect and self-assurance that characterized his demeanor. “Kneel,” the emperor commanded, and An Dehai complied, his movements almost choreographed. The emperor then instructed another eunuch, Xiao Li, to remove An Dehai’s official hat. From his pocket, the emperor produced not the anticipated coral-red button denoting high rank, but a vividly green one—carved from a jade lion paperweight that had been repurposed for this moment.

“Xiao Anzi, I award you a green button!” the emperor declared, his words echoing in the hushed pavilion. Laughter erupted from the two dowagers, particularly Cixi, who exclaimed, “Nonsense!” The assembled courtiers—eunuchs and maids—struggled to contain their amusement, their faces flushed with the effort of suppressing laughter in the presence of their superiors. The emperor, sensing the tension, magnanimously permitted them to laugh openly, transforming the scene into one of shared, though uneasy, merriment.

Symbolism and Subversion in the Qing Court

The color green held specific connotations in Qing dynasty court regalia. While red and blue buttons indicated high ranks—with red reserved for the most senior officials—green was associated with lower status, often worn by minor functionaries or those in disfavor. By bestowing a green button upon An Dehai, the emperor delivered a public humiliation disguised as a jest. This act challenged the strict hierarchies governing the Forbidden City, where eunuchs like An Dehai could wield significant behind-the-scenes power but remained constrained by sumptuary laws. Eunuchs were prohibited from wearing buttons above the fourth rank, making even a blue button illicit, let alone a red one—and the emperor’s “gift” of a green one underscored An Dehai’s ultimate powerlessness despite his proximity to the throne.

The incident revealed the complex dynamics of the late Qing court. The emperor, though young, understood the symbolic weight of his actions. His prank was not merely playful; it was a subtle rebellion against the influence of eunuchs and dowagers who often overshadowed his authority. An Dehai, for his part, recognized the danger immediately. Forced to laugh along, he masked his humiliation, aware that any sign of offense could invite severe consequences. His laughter was “heartbroken,” a performance to neutralize the threat posed by the emperor’s mockery.

Social Hierarchy and the Role of Eunuchs

Eunuchs occupied a unique position in imperial China. Castrated to serve the royal household, they were often marginalized yet indispensable, managing the inner courts and sometimes amassing considerable influence. An Dehai epitomized this paradox—a trusted confidant of Empress Dowager Cixi, yet legally barred from the highest honors. The green button incident highlighted the fragility of his status; despite his power, he remained vulnerable to the whims of the emperor.

The reaction of the courtiers further illustrated the rigid social codes of the Forbidden City. Their stifled laughter, followed by relieved outbursts when permitted, reflected the constant pressure to conform to expectations of deference. The dowagers’ amusement signaled their temporary approval of the breach in protocol, but such moments were exceptions in an environment where discipline and order were paramount.

Aftermath and Intrigue

Following the incident, An Dehai concealed his resentment, feigning camaraderie with Xiao Li, whom he suspected of orchestrating the prank. Behind the scenes, however, he plotted revenge. Unable to strike directly at the emperor, he focused on undermining Xiao Li, planning to discredit him by portraying him as a negative influence on the young sovereign. This required patience and cunning—waiting for an opportunity to present evidence of Xiao Li’s alleged misconduct to Empress Dowager Cixi.

Meanwhile, the emperor’s attention shifted to romantic pursuits, particularly his interest in a maid named Gui Lian from Hangzhou. His inquiries about her, disguised as casual concern, revealed another layer of court life: the personal desires and intrigues that flourished beneath the surface of formal rituals. Xiao Li, tasked with locating Gui Lian, navigated these delicate matters, aware that the emperor’s affections could have political repercussions.

Cultural Reflections and Historical Context

The green button incident offers a window into the late Qing dynasty, a period of decline and internal strife. By the 1860s, the imperial court faced external pressures from Western powers and internal challenges from rebellions like the Taiping uprising. Within the Forbidden City, power struggles between the dowagers, eunuchs, and the young emperor reflected broader tensions between tradition and change.

Humor, as demonstrated in this event, served as a tool for navigating these tensions. It allowed for the expression of dissent without direct confrontation, a safety valve in an otherwise rigid environment. The emperor’s prank, while seemingly trivial, was a microcosm of the larger dynamics at play—youth challenging experience, authority testing its limits, and individuals maneuvering for advantage within prescribed roles.

Legacy and Modern Relevance

The story of the green button endures as a testament to the human aspects of history—the emotions, rivalries, and personalities that shaped events often overshadowed by grand narratives. It reminds us that power is not always exercised through edicts and battles but through symbolic gestures and interpersonal dynamics.

In contemporary discussions, the incident resonates with themes of hierarchy, humiliation, and resistance. It illustrates how humor can be wielded by the powerful and the powerless alike, and how social structures both constrain and enable individual agency. For historians, it underscores the importance of looking beyond official records to anecdotes and personal accounts that reveal the lived experience of the past.

The Qing court, with its elaborate rituals and strict codes, may seem distant, but the human behaviors depicted here—ambition, jealousy, resilience—are timeless. The green button incident, a fleeting moment of laughter in the halls of power, continues to captivate as a story of wit, vulnerability, and the enduring struggle for dignity within rigid systems.

Conclusion

History is often told through the lens of major events—wars, treaties, revolutions—but it is in the small, personal moments that we often find the most profound insights. The green button incident, though minor in the grand sweep of Chinese history, reveals the intricate tapestry of life in the Qing court. It showcases the young emperor’s cleverness, An Dehai’s calculated resilience, and the unspoken rules that governed every interaction.

As we reflect on this episode, we are reminded that the past is not a monolithic narrative but a collection of stories, each with its own lessons and echoes. The laughter that once filled the Shufang Pavilion has long faded, but the themes it embodied—power, pride, and the perpetual dance between authority and subversion—remain as relevant today as they were over a century ago.