China by Edward Rutherfurd (historical books to read TXT) 📕

After that, we washed and went with Grandfather’s Elder Brother to the noodle shop he used to own. And we ate noodles for breakfast.

“I still come here and work an hour or two,” the old man explained. “Then they give me free noodles. So as long as I can manage that, I shall never starve.” Father didn’t look too happy when he said that, but I noticed how friendly the people at the noodle place were towards him, and that made me feel the old man was honored.

Then he took us to a small Taoist temple close by, and he lit three incense sticks in there. One of the priests, dressed all in dark blue, came by and greeted him, and the old man explained who we were, and the priest smiled and told my father that his uncle had progressed far along the spiritual path. The next day, when we were on our way home, my father said his uncle must have given money to the temple to be so well thought of. I remember being sad when he said that. And in fact, even now that I’m an old man myself, I still believe that priest was being sincere. You never know in life. Sometimes people can mean what they say.

But the highlight of that visit—the little event that opened my eyes to the world—had nothing to do with my family at all.

Late in the morning we’d gone for a walk. Grandfather’s Elder Brother said he was going to show me the great Tiananmen Gate. He and my father were walking side by side, with me just behind, and the old man was telling my father stories about the family in the past when suddenly we heard the noise of drums and gongs coming down the street towards us.

“Someone important must be coming,” said my father, and we moved quickly to the side of the street to let this great person pass.

“Are we going to see the emperor?” I asked. Grandfather’s Elder Brother laughed when I said that.

“He hardly ever comes out of the palace, but if he should, you certainly won’t see him—unless you want your head cut off. He’ll be inside a carriage, and we’re not allowed to look at him. So you keep your eyes on the ground.”

“I heard,” said my father, “that in some barbarian countries, the people are allowed to look at their kings.”

“Which just shows how inferior their kings must be,” the old man replied instantly. And I remember feeling proud to think that the emperor of my country was so like a god that we couldn’t look at him.

It wasn’t the emperor anyway. It was some court official, important enough to be preceded by a retinue of people, some of whom were wearing conical hats and dressed in rich embroidered silks. Show me an embroidered silk nowadays, of course, and I can probably tell you straight off who made it and if they’ve dropped a single stitch. But that was the first day in my life I’d ever seen such gorgeous things. I realized they must be heavy and wondered if that was why these men walked in such a slow and stately way.

But most important of all, the moment I saw those silk gowns, I knew my destiny. How does a migrating bird know which way to fly? You tell me. It just does. By instinct, I suppose. Well, it was the same for me, that day in Beijing. The first time I’d seen the finer things of life, and I knew that’s where I belonged. Simple as that.

“Who are those men?” I asked.

“We call them ‘palace persons,’ ” my great-uncle said.

“That’s what I want to be,” I said. This made him laugh, and my father shook his head. But I didn’t know why until, a few minutes later, we sat down in a teahouse.

“Did you notice those men you saw had very soft skins?” Grandfather’s Elder Brother asked me. But I really hadn’t. “They have soft voices as well,” he said. “That’s because they are eunuchs. Do you know what a eunuch is?” I had to shake my head. “A eunuch is a male who has had his balls and penis cut off so that he can’t have any children. It’s called castration. Eunuchs are employed in the palace because there’s no chance of them interfering with any of the royal wives and concubines.”

“I thought,” said my father, “that sometimes they just cut their balls off and left the penis so they can pee.”

“It used to be so,” said Grandfather’s Elder Brother. “But then they discovered that some of the eunuchs could still get it up, even though they had no balls. So you can just imagine the goings-on there were between them and all those women with nothing to do in the palace.”

“Oh,” said my father. “Well, I never.” And he laughed.

“So now everything gets chopped,” the old man continued. “Usually when they’re still young boys. It’s not so dangerous then.”

“So they pee like a woman?” asked my father.

“More or less. They don’t have so much control, usually. They have to wash a lot.” The old man turned to me. “It’s true that some of them make a fortune in the palace. Though many die poor. But you want to have a wife and children, don’t you?”

“Yes, he does,” said my father.

“I do,” I said.

“Then you’ll have to find another way to get rich,” said Grandfather’s Elder Brother, “though I’ve no idea what that might be.”

So that was the task I set myself, from that very day. How to get rich and have a family, too.

—

When we returned to the little house, the old man wanted to rest, and we were quite tired, too. I suppose I may have slept an hour or two, but when I awoke, I found the old man looking at me thoughtfully. My father also opened his eyes, but when Grandfather’s Elder Brother spoke, he addressed himself to me