The Powerful Eunuch

Xie Yilu finished his porridge, put on his official hat and came out of the courtyard, where Da Tian1 was sitting on a small stool, bending over and washing Xie Yilu’s bedding. “Master,” he stuttered with hesitance, “How about… you go out and find a harlot? Lots of cheap ones down the Suozi2 Alley.”

“Nonsense.” Da Tian’s words scalded Xie Yilu’s ears, but there was no denying that those absurd stains on the bedding were his own work indeed. With his face blushing, Xie Yilu stuttered as well, “I… I have had a weak constitution for the past two days. Don’t you act recklessly!”

While he remained old-fashioned and reserved, Da Tian was quite an unpolished lad: “But I’m washing these for you every single day! My hands are about to break!”

Xie Yilu avoided him as he left the house. As the door was just about to close, he could still hear Da Tian saying, “Moreover, you can’t afford to waste away like this every night. This is for your own good!”

Xie Yilu felt deeply troubled. Indeed, he could control his hands, yet he couldn’t control his dreams. In those dreams, that same figure came and went again and again, constantly enticing Xie Yilu in all possible ways. On the night he and Liao Jixiang shared a bed, he was dreadful of doing anything absurd, so he held it in. But the more he held it in, the more unbearable his lust had become. And now, the region three inches below his abdomen was always burning and toiling, and he desperately wanted to find a place for a release.

He was stunned when he reached the ministry. There was a soft sedan chair parked at the gate, with embroidered curtains and a luxurious, velvet roof – it belonged to Qu Feng.

Exhaltantly, Xie Yilu strode inside. He could see the lively commotion in the main hall from afar – that young man was wearing a brocade robe of light greenish yellow3 and surrounded by the crowd, resembling how the stars distributed around the moon. Although his left foot was still supported by a cane, Qu Feng’s complexion appeared extremely well.

“Simu4!” Xie Yilu couldn’t help but approach with a smile. Almost instantaneously, the hall fell horribly silent. Everyone’s eyes were scanning all over him, ever so distant and freezingly cold, that he had to stop approaching. Qu Feng was at the centre of the mass. He was rolling up his sleeves without a word, and his eyes darted evasively to give Xie Yilu a brief glance. Many things were communicated in that glance, too many for Xie Yilu to comprehend at the moment. Then, before Xie Yilu could fathom that glance, Qu Feng turned around and limped away.

Following that, the crowd scattered, leaving Xie Yilu alone on the steps. For a while, he couldn’t figure out what had happened. The man who should have the least reasons to despise him, the exact person who compelled him to this situation, had now become his adversary, acting wise to protect his fame.

He remained standing over there for quite some time. Only after making sure that no one else would come, did Xie Yilu walk away dejectedly.

In the afternoon, Minister5 Liu distributed the invitations to the ministry’s banquet. Everyone was on the list, including assistants and secretaries6, except for Xie Yilu. Moments before leaving the ministry, Zheng Xian’s invitation arrived, asking him to attend a banquet at Jinyi North Garden7, which was quite a coincidence, because when Xie Yilu arrived, he found that the venue was just next door to the banquet of the Ministry of War.

Minister Liu arranged this banquet for Qu Feng on behalf of the Secretary of State8. This feast was organised to assuage Qu Feng’s shock from those torments in prison. Xie Yilu was physically present on this side of the wall, yet his heart was on the other side. He listened to the commotions next door, of his colleagues toasting and drinking, of how they showered and bestowed many and more flattering words upon Qu Feng. The more he listened, the colder his heart became.

Then, Xie Yilu turned around. Things were much quieter on this side. Zheng Xian had invited someone new today, who was dressed in a sleeveless armour9 and carrying a long knife. With Tu Yao acting as the middle-person, Xie Yilu learned that man was the newly appointed chief commander, who had previously fought against the Japanese pirates10 in Zhejiang. His name was Gong Nian11.

Zhejiang. This place caught Xie Yilu’s attention. When Liao Jixiang was chopping down the pear tree woods, he had borrowed the soldiers from Zhejiang12. He couldn’t help but take a closer look at Gong Nian. The man was rather athletic. He had probably spent years leading the soldiers, as his complexion was quite tanned, although he was still somewhat good looking. The most astonishing feature about him, however, were his wrists, which were as thick as a mature elm tree, and he had knife scars scattered all over the back of his hands.

“Thank you, Dugong13, for your hospitality,” Gong Nian sat upright as he raised his cup to Zheng Xian. “This one14 toasts to you.”

He uttered no unnecessary words, nor was he excessively ingratiating towards a Da Dang15. Xie Yilu was quite impressed.

It was extremely rare for Zheng Xian to drink a toast in such a straightforward manner. Evidently, he was interested in Gong Nian. After setting down his cup, Zheng Xian used his thumb to point behind himself. “General, beyond the wall over there is the banquet of the Ministry of War. About the lad they lionised as a hero, you can ask Tu Yao,” he threw his arm on Tu Yao’s back like they were brothers, “see if he’s actually a piece of scrap!”

Gong Nian remained silent and respectfully listened to Zheng Xian, his empty cup still in his hands.

“When the general arrived in town, the Ministry of War failed to step out to welcome and honour you. It still has to be This One16!” Zheng Xian tapped his hand, which was wearing a jade ring, on the table. “But This One is not sowing discord between you, no, This One is seeking justice for you!”

Only that he was indeed sowing discord between them. Xie Yilu observed Zheng Xian with amusement. Underneath the gorgeous appearance of this fellow, there was actually a rather unrestrained, sinister soul. If Liao Jixiang was a Guqin17, then Zheng Xian was a sword — he came and went straightforwardly, and it was much easier to comprehend his mind.

Except for Xie Yilu, everyone at the table belonged to the military. They drank heartily with not much heed of excessive etiquette, and the banquet ended even before midnight. As they left the venue, Xie Yilu asked Tu Yao, “Why didn’t we invite some entertainers to sing? Doesn’t he love lively scenes?”

The “he” was naturally referring to Zheng Xian. Tu Yao smiled, “He’s afraid that Gong Nian wouldn’t like it.”

Xie Yilu was taken aback. “What’s his background?”

Tu Yao waved his hand to indicate that wasn’t the case. “He fought against the Japanese pirates valiantly on the coastal regions, with little regard for his own life. Just take a look at the scars on his hands,” he said dispassionately. “You don’t know much about Dugong. He admires people like Gong Nian,” he paused, “Besides, if we don’t take care of these people, no one else will.”

What Tu Yao told him might not be entirely true, but also, it was not necessarily false. What was certain, however, was that this banquet showed Xie Yilu something different, unlike every other banquet he had attended ever since his arrival in Nanjing.

He went homewards on foot, and Da Tian opened the door for him. Feeling too embarrassed to face Da Tian, Xie Yilu hurriedly entered the house, yet Da Tian called from behind, “Master, there’s a letter for you! It’s from Beijing!”

The letter was on the table. Xie Yilu checked the signature – it was her. She had never written back to him, so, with an odd feeling in his heart, Xie Yilu removed the letter from the envelope and read it while taking off his robe. After reading the first two lines, he froze: “… heard from the folks that you’re now working for eunuchs. I ain’t no scholar, but I sure care about my face18. Just send me a letter of divorce19 quickly. Let’s part on good terms and be on our own ways.”

The letter was written by a scribe. The scribes normally wouldn’t use such colloquial phrases, so it was most likely that she didn’t allow him to alter or refine her words. Xie Yilu crumpled the letter in his hand. This was just like her.

Couldn’t be bothered to light a lamp, he sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, his robe half-untied and hanging loosely over his chest. His heart churned and toiled with immense sour bitterness, as if there was a blunt knife twisting and cutting, but it was so ineffective that no blood came out. He was now truly a lonely man, with no prospects and no family. He didn’t even know whom to hate for his misfortune. And when he closed his eyes, all he saw was darkness.

After roughly straightening his robe, he went to Da Tian’s room to fetch a lantern. Da Tian turned over on the bed bare-chested and looked at him. “Master, where’re you going at this hour?” only when the door slammed shut with a loud “bang”, did it suddenly dawned on him to shout, “Do you have enough money with you?”

Upon exiting the courtyard, Xie Yilu had walked quite a distance before he lowered his head and realised that the lantern wasn’t lit at all. Lying in front of him was a single, dark path, and he stumbled alone, his mind in a daze. After crossing Zhuque Street20 and reaching Xuanzhen Lane21, when he was just about to turn towards the back gate of the mansion, a horse approached afar from the east, carrying a lantern on its side. It stopped at the front gate of Liao Jixiang’s mansion, and a man jumped off the horse.

Xie Yilu recognised him. It was Gong Nian, but he was no longer dressed in the sleeveless armour that he wore just now, rather, he was in a light purple Daopao22. He must have deliberately gone back to change his attire.

It was just as expected, that he had some connections with Liao Jixiang. Standing in the darkness, Xie Yilu fixed his eyes on that brightly shining lantern. In the light, Gong Nian presented an invitation and exchanged words with the gatekeeping eunuch, and without waiting, he assertively entered the mansion.

Xie Yilu turned to leave. Liao Jixiang would probably be too busy to see him tonight. However, he couldn’t bear to leave further after taking only a few steps. In the dense darkness, he made his way to the back gate and knocked. The gatekeeper recognised him and greeted, “Master23 Xie,” although he didn’t allow Xie Yilu inside.

And so Xie Yilu waited in distress, as if his soul had departed from his body. He could hear the murmurs of the eunuchs on the night shift coming from the gate. “… they had an argument… should we let him in or not…” One of them stuck his head out with a fake smile on his face. “Please wait, Master.”

So, Xie Yilu waited. Nearly half a Shichen24 had passed until the door finally opened from inside. Shining over the corridor was a yellow lantern, and behind the lantern stood Ruan Dian with his arms crossing on his back. He glanced at Xie Yilu under the dazzling light, then raised his head and turned around, indicating for him to follow.

Xie Yilu immediately followed him. Initially, he wanted to walk behind Ruan Dian, but Ruan Dian kept making way for him and walked beside him25. As they walked, Ruan Dian also studied his face with curiosity, yet whenever Xie Yilu glanced at him, Ruan Dian would quickly avert his gaze.

“Do you… want to say something?” Xie Yilu asked.

Appearing rather irritated, Ruan Dian gritted his teeth and pushed the servant holding the lantern in front of them, urging him to keep some distance. Then, he fiercely said to Xie Yilu, his face still as savage and untamed, “In the past… my apologies for offending you!”

This was an attempt to amend their relationship, but his attitude was far from proper. Xie Yilu nodded without uttering a word. The yellow lantern led their way. Like a full bright moon within reach, it cast a golden glow on the edges of leaves and grass, adorning them with a shade of gold. In the dizzying warmth of the yellow light, Xie Yilu suddenly blurted out, “Perhaps he is tired of me.”

Ruan Dian knew what he was referring to. He had heard about the incident on that morning from the servants. However, hearing these words coming from Xie Yilu’s mouth made him feel odd no matter how he tried to interpret them. Before he could figure out where the eccentricity came from, Xie Yilu spoke again, “How could they take half a Shichen to report my arrival? Did he tell you to leave me hanging?”

He had it right. Ruan Dian froze at his question. He was about to deny it when they arrived at Liao Jixiang’s main chamber. Xie Yilu didn’t wait for his answer, or perhaps he didn’t dare to hear it. He said “Thank you” hastily and escaped into the chamber in a hurry.

The same old white candles were still burning coldly and quietly. Liao Jixiang was not around, probably accompanying Gong Nian. Xie Yilu allowed his mind to wander for a while as he stood by the window sill, then he walked left and right aimlessly in the room until he strolled to the desk. He saw numerous letters scattering messily on the desk, and one of them had a corner peeking out, revealing the character “Zang”.

Xie Yilu was well-versed in the etiquette of respecting others’ private matters, but that character was like a needle, piercing and itching his hand. So he tugged at the paper gently and revealed the signature, it was indeed “Zang Fang”.

Since he was already pulling it, he decided to take them out once and for all. It wasn’t just a single letter, but rather a small pile, all of which was written by Zang Fang after he arrived in Nanjing. No matter how randomly Xie Yilu picked the segments to read, all he found was melancholic and nostalgic verses: “We’ve shared the parting feasts five years afore, and some of the old poems in my mind remained anew. Now we obtained a brief respite from the tumultuous fate, can the two wild ducks acquire more luck to fly south conjoint?”

The word “conjoint” looked inappropriate in Xie Yilu’s eyes no matter how he tried, so he quickly skimmed through the letters. Yet another sentence caught his eye: “Thou treated me as a confidant, yet I trampled on thy heart…”

The door creaked behind him; Liao Jixiang had returned. Xie Yilu shivered, the letter slipped from his hand and fell back onto the desk.

Liao Jixiang noticed that Xie Yilu was reading his letter, but he didn’t say anything. In fact, he never intended to speak to Xie Yilu anyway. Liao Jixiang stood there and stretched out his hands lazily. Like an indulgent master, he had the junior eunuchs attend to his garments and washing. On the other side of the room, Xie Yilu intentionally chose the farthest chair from Liao Jixiang to sit on without looking in his direction. He remained silent even after the servants were done busying with their errands and made their leave. The two of them confronted each other in silence.

It was a night with pleasant breeze, and the insects were chirping energetically. Yet the more they chirped, the quieter this chamber appeared.

“I need someone,” Liao Jixiang spoke first, but only to give instructions to the servants outside, “to prepare the guest room.”

Xie Yilu felt a sharp pain surging in his heart, and in that instant, all those matters — Qu Feng, the letter of divorce, Gong Nian, Zang Fang — jumbled and squeezed together in chaos, pressed crushingly against his chest and rushed upwards to his nose. His eyes were stinging all of a sudden, and soon they became moistened with tears.

In the beginning, he kept his head down, striving to hold it back. But soon, tears came streaming down from his nose. He wiped them away with his sleeve, left sleeve and then right sleeve, again and again. Liao Jixiang noticed his movements, and at that moment, someone outside reported at the door, “Dugong, the guest room is ready.”

“There’s no need!” Liao Jixiang slowly approached. Noticing that, Xie Yilu immediately covered his face with his sleeve. Liao Jixiang went to pull his arm, but he resisted, so Liao Jixiang made a few more attempts, but to no avail, as Xie Yilu pushed him away every time.

“What’s the matter?” Liao Jixiang asked. He squatted down and looked up at Xie Yilu. Xie Yilu clenched his teeth and was determined to stay silent, so Liao Jixiang didn’t press further. He sighed and walked away.

Still covering his face, Xie Yilu stubbornly waited for Liao Jixiang to come and console him again. Soon, Liao Jixiang took a seat on the chair beside him. A simultaneous sound of “plink” came to Xie Yilu’s ears, which was the sound of fingernails plucking the strings. Xie Yilu lifted his head in surprise, and he saw Liao Jixiang, sitting upright with an old pipa26 in his hands. His fingers slid over the strings like he was caressing water, and he was ready to sing a tune for Xie Yilu.

Xie Yilu thought it must be a famous verse, something like “Unable to bear the yearning for my love in my dull life, I fell into drowsiness where my love paid a visit in my elusive dream27.” Yet to his surprise, Liao Jixiang began with, “I wore the moon as my hat and the stars as my robe, fearing and dreading for him. Standing long under the muslin windows, I waited for him…”

It was an erotic tune, and Liao Jixiang was well aware of it – his singing betrayed subtle uneasiness. “Suddenly heard the sound of footsteps outside the door, and I thought it was my cursed love,” At that moment, any casual glance of Liao Jixiang towards Xie Yilu seemed to be brimming with emotions and hidden intentions, his eyes ever so gentle and loving. “Yet it turned out to be only the wind, rustling the tea millet28 plants…”

The melody abruptly stopped, as Xie Yilu was grabbing his hand. Liao Jixiang blushed and explained, “Back in the palace, I only knew how to sing this…”

“I’m on my own now,” Xie Yilu blurted out. Couldn’t grasp the meaning of his words, Liao Jixiang furrowed his brow. Xie Yilu lowered his gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to tell any other men about such occurrences, so he could only tell Liao Jixiang, “My wife… doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”

Liao Jixiang’s eyebrows twitched. He leaned over the armrest of the chair, and for the first time, he reached out towards Xie Yilu, wiping away the half-dried stains of tears on Xie Yilu’s nose with his warm fingertips. Being treated so tenderly at a troubled time like this, Xie Yilu’s heart felt just like a tiny boat struggling afloat in a raging stream. He slid off the chair, half kneeling and half sitting at Liao Jixiang’s feet. Looking up, he wrapped his arms around Liao Jixiang’s leg. Although there were so many things on his mind that he could say, he only pleaded stubbornly, “Will you… let me kiss you? Will you?”

Liao Jixiang was startled, then he became alarmed.

“Will you?” Xie Yilu pressed on. Liao Jixiang blinked helplessly and spoke, his voice couldn’t be even softer, “You’ve already done it once, so why bother to ask…”

He was referring to the incident in the peach blossom forest. Xie Yilu immediately grabbed his sleeve, pulling him down from the chair and bringing him onto himself. He looked at those innocent lips of Liao Jixiang, and lightly touched them with his own.

After the brief contact, Liao Jixiang turned his face away. But how could such a light and short lived kiss be enough for Xie Yilu? He eagerly asked, “One more time… can we?”

Liao Jixiang was reluctant, but he still allowed it. He turned his head slightly back, and waited as his eyebrows furrowed. Xie Yilu leaned in for the second time, and this time, he didn’t let go after the touch. Instead, he was even emboldened to probe the tip of his tongue on Liao Jixiang’s lips. Yet as soon as they made contact, Liao Jixiang shoved him away.

Xie Yilu pleaded, feeling wronged, “I haven’t even…”

Liao Jixiang covered his mouth with his hand, looking back at Xie Yilu as if he were a pervert, and rubbed his lips against the back of his own hand again and again. Xie Yilu earnestly reached out to kiss him again, but Liao Jixiang evaded his touch. With an air of seniority, Liao Jixiang said, “One shouldn’t indulge in anything for more than three times29!”

Three times? Not knowing whether he was amused or aroused, suddenly, Xie Yilu pounced on Liao Jixiang and brought both of them to the floor. With a sinful lust that came out of nowhere, Xie Yilu held onto Liao Jixiang’s chin, taking advantage of his innocence, and skillfully guided Liao Jixiang’s tongue into his own mouth.

Translator’s words:

Our man Xie Yilu is getting a divorce! Well maybe I shouldn’t be this excited because he was crying like a poor baby in this chapter. But that means he can marry someone else now:) is that correct?

Lots of information was mentioned in the recent chapters. I will gather them and discuss the details probably around Chapter 30.

As this is the first scheduled post (there’re two more), I’m actually travelling in Lhasa now. I hope these scheduled chapters are free of typos or other mistakes. Please let me know if you spotted any. You can leave a message via my Discord or Twitter. I’ll definitely reply when I have Internet access. Thanks for reading!

Footnotes

Da Tian, 大天, the name of Xie Yilu’s servant. 

Suozi, 梭子, the name of the alley with harlot houses.  

This colour is known as Yingbei Se, 莺背色, which literally means “the colour of a warbler’s back”. 

Simu, 思慕, is Qu Feng’s courtesy name. Simu means “to always remember and recall with passion and yearning”. 

The original term here is Shilang, 侍郎, a third-rank position. 

The secretary, or Siwu, 司务, in Chinese, is a ninth-rank official, supposedly the lowest in the ministry. 

Jinyi North Garden, Jinyi Beiyuan, 锦衣北园, is an actual name of gardens in the Ming Dynasty. This name can be found in some of the poems in the Ming Dynasty. 

In each ministry there is one Shangshu, 尚书, which is a second-rank position and the head of the ministry. It is translated to the Secretary of State here.  

In Chinese, this is known as Zhaojia, 罩甲, it’s a type of armour without sleeves.  

The original term here is Wokou, 倭寇, which literally means “Japanese pirates”. 

Gong Nian, 龚辇, the name of the new general.  

Zhejiang, 浙江, is a province in eastern China. Being near the sea makes Zhejiang vulnerable to the attacks of pirates.  

Dugong, 督公, a reverent title for powerful eunuchs such as Liao Jixiang or Zheng Xian. 

“This One” is used only by eunuchs to address themselves. When “this one” isn’t capitalised, it is used by people other than eunuchs who try to stay humble in a conversation. 

Powerful eunuch, Da Dang, 大珰. 珰 originally referred to the jade earrings for females. In the Han Dynasty, eunuchs often wore gold Dang and mink tails as decorations on their hats. Hence, the term Dang was later used as an alternate name for eunuchs. Da, which means big, suggests the power and high position of the eunuchs. Hence, Da Dang means “Powerful Eunuch”, which is also the title of the book. 

“This One” is used only by eunuchs to address themselves. When “this one” isn’t capitalised, it is used by people other than eunuchs who try to stay humble in a conversation. 

Guqin, 古琴, or simply Qin, 琴, is a plucked seven-string Chinese musical instrument.  

In Chinese culture, “making someone lose face” means losing people’s respect or admiration. 

In ancient China, a divorce paper is known as Xiushu, 休书, which literally means “letter of annulment”. However, traditionally, only men are allowed to write and sign a Xiushu to his wife. The opposite is extremely rare, if any at all.  

Zhuque Street, Zhuque, Jie, 朱雀街, is one of the main streets in the Nanjing city.  

Xuanzhen Lane, Xuanzhen Xiang, 玄真巷, is where Liao Jixiang’s private residence is located.  

Daopao, 道袍. In the Ming Dynasty, it was the outer garment worn by men at home, and it could also be used as a lining robe or wedding dress for men. 

If you noticed, I was using “master” and “lord” interchangeably when the characters address Xie Yilu. I feel that “master” is polite but not as subservient as “lord”, so I only used “Lord Xie” when someone, such as Jin Tang when he begged Xie Yilu to save Qu Feng, is being extremely polite and is trying to humble himself in front of Xie Yilu. This difference may also come from different Chinese terms. For instance, Laoye, 老爷, (the owner of a household), is translated to “master”, whereas Daren, 大人, may be translated as “master” when people are just complying with basic social etiquette, or it can be translated to “lord” under very polite circumstances. I hope this clarifies.  

Shichen, 时辰, a time unit in ancient China. One Shichen is roughly 2 hours. 

In ancient Chinese culture, walking behind someone is a way to pay respect to the person walking in front. By trying to walk side by side with Xie Yilu, Ruan Dian is implying that he is not superior and he wishes to communicate on equal terms with Xie Yilu. 

Pipa, 琵琶, is a traditional Chinese musical instrument belonging to the plucked category of instruments.  

The poem here is 可奈情怀，欲睡朦胧入梦来, which is a poem by Li Yu, also known as Li Houzhu (李后主, literally “Last Ruler Li” or “Last Lord Li”). He was the third ruler of the Southern Tang state during imperial China’s Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period. While he was an incompetent ruler, he was indeed a very good poet. 

Tea millet, aka Tumi, 荼蘼, is a plant that blooms in late spring.  

This is an idiom in China, Shi Bu Guo San, 事不过三.