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

Mr. Bi supplies more eunuchs to the palace than anyone. You will remain at his place for some time after the operation to make sure that everything heals safely. The charge for the operation is considerable, and I shall be happy to advance you the money, at a small rate of interest, which you can repay me at your leisure. For your loyalty and friendship, I assure you, are worth more to me than the repayment of the loan.”

I was starting to thank him, but he raised his hand to stop me.

“There are two other things you must know,” he went on. “As a eunuch, you can’t be buried with your family in holy ground, as self-mutilation is considered a sin. You’ll be buried in the eunuchs’ graveyard outside the city. However, there is a way around this. The surgeon at Mr. Bi’s will keep the parts of you he removed in a sealed jar. Those jars are well guarded, I can promise you. One day, if you have the money, your son can buy them back, and then your body will be considered complete again, and they can be buried with you in your family graveyard. Most eunuchs, of course, don’t have a son, and thus they adopt one for this purpose. But you’ve got a real son, so you won’t have to go to that trouble.”

That was a comfort to me, I must say.

His final words were very clear. “During these coming days,” he said, “you must discuss this with your family. You’re free to change your mind. Indeed, if you’re in any doubt at the end of that time, I urge you: Do not proceed. Remember, once you have gone to Mr. Bi, it’ll be too late.”

—

I told my family that evening. My mother sat down and burst into tears. “To think this should happen to my only son,” she kept wailing.

“You’ve got your grandchildren,” I reminded her. “That’s all that matters now.” But it didn’t seem to comfort her.

As for my father, he didn’t say anything for about a minute. Then he looked up at me so sadly. “I’m sorry about the boots.” He shook his head.

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“The boots I made for your teacher,” he says. “If he’d liked the boots he’d have gone on teaching you, and you might be a schoolmaster by now. Or even a government official. It’s all my fault.”

I just didn’t reply. I mean, what can you say?

As for my wife, poor Rose wasn’t pleased at all. “That’s not very nice for me, is it?” she said.

“Well, it isn’t very nice for me, either.” I may have snapped at her a bit when I said that. “We’ve got to think of the children, Rose,” I said. “I wish you could have seen Mr. Chen’s house. You would have been amazed. And his wife seemed to be quite happy. She’s got every comfort. And the life their children are going to have…It’s beyond anything you and I ever dreamed of.” I was trying to comfort her. “If I could do the same thing for all of you…” I said. But I wasn’t sure she was even listening.

“Even if you don’t care about me,” she blurted out, “aren’t you ashamed?”

“I’ll be more ashamed if we all starve and die,” I cried. I was getting a little desperate myself, I suppose. Nobody seemed to be giving me any support, and I was the one making the biggest sacrifice.

“What will it cost?” my father suddenly wanted to know.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “The money we’ve still got saved will cover it.” I just said it to hurt him, I daresay. I didn’t tell him Mr. Chen would lend me the money. I wanted him to suffer, too.

—

Well, nobody said anything to me after that. Not that evening or the next morning. Not a word. That was worse than if they’d kept arguing with me. Or perhaps they’d seen I was right—except that none of them wanted to say thank you.

The second evening, my mother sat beside me and begged me to think about it some more. “Perhaps something will turn up,” she said. “I went to the Buddhist temple today. I’m going to the Taoist one tomorrow.” Then she started crying again.

As for Rose, after refusing to speak to me all day, she was cold to me at night as well.

“You may as well get some while it’s still there,” I said when we got into bed. But she turned her back to me.

It was noon of the following day when my father returned to our lodgings looking pleased with himself. “Good news,” he told me. “There’s no need to spend all that money.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“I’ve been speaking to a man whose nephew was castrated when he was a boy. It turns out it’s not that difficult. His family performed the operation themselves. All you need is to make sure you have a really sharp razor, plenty of paper, sesame oil, and some prickly ash pepper. He gave me all the details. It takes a couple of months for everything to heal, but I’ll be there all the time, or if I’m not, Rose can always bandage you.” He looked quite happy about it all.

“Forget it,” I said. “I’m going to the professional.”

“You could save money,” he said. He sounded quite reproachful.

—

The house of Mr. Bi was built of brick, on the corner of an alley in the Tartar City, as they sometimes call the Manchu Inner City. When Mr. Chen took me there, he seemed in a cheerful mood. He made me carry a chicken and a bottle of rice wine, as presents for the surgeon, and kept up a running commentary all the way.

“As suppliers of eunuchs to the palace,” he explained, “the Bi family are granted quite a high rank amongst the Manchu bannermen. Even their surgeons are seventh grade officials, which is higher than a local county magistrate.” It all sounded