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

took a patient three months from the operation until the day he was ready to go to the palace, but I made such unusual progress that I was fit to leave after only two. I was told I should go with three of the boys who were to leave next. They were nice enough, and I took care to be friendly to them. We’d sit and talk, and they’d ask me all sorts of questions, assuming that because I was older I must know everything. They were simple country boys, and none of them could read or write. So I was able to tell them a good deal they didn’t know about the palace and Beijing. I had a feeling they were destined for quite lowly careers. Certainly none of them had any feeling for the finer things of life.

On the day we were due to be collected, however, we were told we’d have to wait, on account of a yellow wind.

That’s the only thing I hate about our northern springs: They always seem to end with a yellow wind.

For four days the yellow dust filled the sky, so that if I ventured into the street, I could hardly see my hand in front of my face. I’d wrap a piece of silk or cotton across my nose and mouth, but the dust was so fine it seemed to get through, encrust itself on my lips, and block my nose until I could scarcely breathe.

But at last it was over. A palace eunuch arrived to escort us. And Mr. Chen also turned up to keep me company, which was very good of him.

The sky overhead was a clear pale blue that morning, but there was a sandy-colored haze hanging over the horizon, and the sun came through it with a strange, harsh light. It almost felt like a dream. The street was still thick with dust, and we left our footprints as we went. “I hate this dust,” I said to Mr. Chen; but he only laughed.

“You shouldn’t,” he told me. “This is the dust that turns the waters of the Yellow River into gold.”

“It still gets up my nose,” I said.

“And it enriches the great northern plain,” he went on, “where all our wheat grows. Tell me,” he asked, “are the roof tiles in the Forbidden City a different color from those in the rest of Beijing?”

“Yes,” I said. “Yellow.”

“What color is worn only by the emperor?” he continued.

“Yellow,” I replied.

“Learn to love yellow, then,” he ordered. “Yellow River, yellow earth, yellow roofs, yellow silks…”

“I got the point,” I said.

—

As we approached the red walls of the Imperial City in that harsh sunlight, with a sullen glare coming from the huge roofs of the Tiananmen Gate, I noticed the three boys cowering nervously. I didn’t blame them. The closer one gets, the higher those great red walls and towers seem. And remember, the circuit of those walls is six miles and more. Six miles. No wonder people are frightened. But I wasn’t afraid.

Because walls have two purposes: They keep strangers out, of course; but they also protect the fortunate within. That’s what I was thinking as we entered the tunnel of the smaller gateway. This was the safest place in the world. I’d be protected. Well paid. Most of the people on the outside were losers; but I was a winner now. It was true I’d paid a price to get there. But you usually do pay a price for things, don’t you?

And as we came out of the tunnel, there it was before us: the Forbidden City itself, the Son of Heaven’s Palace, the center of the world. I was so excited. I’d never seen it before.

There was a broad moat all the way around it. The walls were purple. We crossed the moat by a beautiful bridge and entered by a modest gateway in the western wall, where the eunuch showed our passes to the Manchu guards. Then, after passing through a little park of trees, we made our way down a short alley until we came to a low building.

“I’ll leave you now,” said Mr. Chen. “Just do everything you’re told. They’ll give you all sorts of training about palace rules and so forth, which I know you’ll learn easily. I’ll come by in ten days to find out how you’re getting on.”

—

Well, naturally, I didn’t know what to expect. But I must say, I spent a very agreeable day.

They gave us all a medical check first. It might have been embarrassing, but since both we and all the people inspecting us had been castrated, it wasn’t so bad.

Then we got our uniforms—simple cotton top and bottoms, blue underwear, a broad black belt, and short boots. That’s what you got when you started. The beautiful silks I’d seen were only for the eunuchs who’d attained high rank.

After that, we got to meet our mentors. These were eunuchs with some years of service who would teach us the basics. Though my mentor was older than the others, he evidently hadn’t been picked out for any promotion yet. He was like a rather solemn family dog, moving slowly and speaking in a soft, mournful voice, but he wasn’t unfriendly. “Did you know I’m supposed to hit you with a bamboo cane if you don’t learn your lessons?” he asked me sadly. “Some of the eunuchs like whipping the new boys. But I hate it.”

“I’ll try not to give you cause,” I reassured him, which seemed to cheer him up a little.

“By the way,” he said, “as I’m your mentor, you’ve got to call me master.”

“Yes, master,” I said, and bowed.

“You don’t really need to if we’re alone,” he went on, “but I suppose you’d better, because otherwise you might forget when we’re in front of an official, and then I’d get into trouble for not teaching you to be respectful.”

“Yes, master,” I said, “that’s very wise.”

The first thing he explained to me was how to identify