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

rushed forward to make a low bow before the eunuch. I must say, in his splendid silk robes and conical hat, he was a stately figure. But he smiled very pleasantly, and when asked where he would care to sit, nodded easily at the table next to mine, which happened to be empty. I heard him say softly that he desired only tea, nothing to eat. “Have you Lushan cloud tea?” he asked.

“Certainly, certainly,” the manager said, and hurried away.

Right from the moment he sat down, I couldn’t help admiring his elegance. This is a man, I thought, who knows how to live. There is no better or more lustrous variety of mountain green tea than Lushan. But it wasn’t just his choice of tea. He was in his forties, I guessed, but the way he sat, very straight and still, made me think of an older man. There was a grace in every movement he made. He might have been a priest. I’d always heard that most of the eunuchs were from the poorest class, but whether it was innate in the man himself or the result of years spent in the imperial palace, this eunuch exhibited nothing of the crudeness of the common folk.

I realized that I was staring at him and, ashamed of my bad manners, forced myself to stop. I gazed out the window and told myself: Think about what to do next, instead of staring at this palace eunuch who can’t do you any good.

I did notice, however, that when the woman served his tea, she brought him little delicacies to eat, which he ignored.

I’d been staring out the window thinking of my sorrows for a little while when I was interrupted by a quiet voice. “You look unhappy, young man.”

I turned and saw to my surprise that it was the eunuch who had spoken to me. The flesh of his face was soft, his mouth was kind but not weak, and his expression was one of genuine concern.

“I daresay every man has troubles, sir,” I answered politely. “I don’t suppose mine would seem very interesting to a distinguished gentleman like yourself.”

“Perhaps not,” he said pleasantly. “But as I have to wait here for an hour, which is quite boring anyway, I should like to hear your life story, if you would tell it to me.” And he offered me some of the food on his table.

So begging him to stop me as soon as he’d heard enough, I gave him a brief outline of the story. He seemed to observe me quite carefully while I talked, and at the end he nodded. “It wasn’t boring at all,” he said. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, honored sir,” I replied. “I wish I did.”

“I couldn’t help noticing,” he continued, “that while you were talking, you kept glancing at my robe. May I ask what interested you about it?”

“As a craftsman, sir,” I said, “I always notice beautiful workmanship of any kind. In fact,” I told him, “ever since I was a boy I’ve been drawn to the finer things of life—even though I can’t have them myself,” I added with a smile.

To my surprise, he stretched out his arm. “Would you like to feel the silk?” he offered.

Well, I did. The embroidered silk was even stiffer than I’d expected, almost like brocade, and was finely sewn with tiny beads that made it almost scratchy. I couldn’t stop myself leaning forward to inspect the stitching, which was so tight I could scarcely believe it. “This is made to last a thousand years!” I said.

“Perhaps it will,” he said, and laughed. Then he drew back his arm and gazed at me thoughtfully. “You know,” he remarked quietly, “there may be a way for you to get what you want, though it is not without risk and would entail great sacrifice.”

“Please tell me about it, sir,” I said.

“You could become one of the palace people, as they call us. A eunuch.”

“A eunuch?” I stared at him, astounded. “But I’m a married man, sir,” I protested. “I’d have had to become a eunuch when I was a boy.”

“That’s what most people think,” he said, “but they are not correct. It is true,” he explained, “that by far the majority of eunuchs are castrated when they are still boys. But there are a number in the palace who were castrated after they became men, had married, and had families. They use the money they make in the palace to support their wives and children.”

“I never heard of such a thing,” I exclaimed.

“I assure you it is so. I am in the palace, and I know such men.”

“And their wives…?”

“They live better than they might have done otherwise. Their children are cared for and fed. The eunuchs are often allowed out of the palace at night, you know. Some of these men go home at night to be with their families.”

“But they cannot…”

He raised his hand. “Such arrangements do not mean that the woman can receive no pleasure at all. We need not speak of all the possibilities.” He nodded. “Indeed, I daresay there are women married to ordinary men in Beijing who would gladly trade places with these wives.”

“I don’t know what to say, sir,” I stuttered. I was quite flabbergasted.

“All eunuchs receive a modest pay,” he went on. “But if one is lucky, there are plenty of ways of making money on the side. A few eunuchs even become rich.” He paused. “My impression of you is that you would make friends easily and do quite well. And of course,” he said, smiling, “you would be surrounded by the finer things of life.”

I was silent. He glanced out the window.

“I must be off,” he said suddenly. “Should you ever wish to take this further—but only if you are truly sure that you are ready for such a drastic step—then there is a merchant in the city that I recommend you visit. You should go to his house