The Powerful Eunuch

Xie Yilu received the reply the following night. It was a sparse message comprised of three lines of small regular script. The first read “shè lì zǐ, bà líng qiáo”, the second “wù jiā qī”, and the third “xiāo lí huā, lùo méi fēng”. 

Sarira1, Baling Bridge

Hindering wedding day

Vanishing pear blossoms, falling plum wind.

He puzzled over the message with knitted brows for a long time, but still could not make heads or tails of it. As such, he brought it along with him when he left for the yamen at dawn. Once the mao call2 was finished, he went over to dawdle in Qu Feng’s room. 

Qu Feng was busy with the beginning of the year’s personnel inspections. He raised his head multiple times, but Xie Yilu never made a sound. This annoyed Qu Feng so much that he ended up dismissing the transcribing clerk and asked with a grimace, “What is it?” 

Xie Yilu’s expression was a little embarrassed. He walked over to the door and bolted it tightly then tightened it again before slowly digging out a piece of paper from his collar. “I have something… that I want you to have a look at for me.” 

“What is it…” Qu Feng was somewhat serious at first but when he glanced at it, he snorted in laughter. Afraid that people outside might hear, Xie Yilu immediately grabbed him and made to muffle his mouth, but Qu Feng tactfully beat him to it. He propped up a little finger decorated with a white jade ring: “Didn’t you say you don’t have a lover?“ 

”It’s not… not a lover!” Xie Yilu was panicking. “It’s just, just a penfriend!” 

“Penfriend?” Qu Feng drew closer and that heavy wave of anxi incense washed over again. “Lying to me about this sort of thing…” he patted Xie Yilu’s chest, “Did you really think I’d fall for it!”

Fully panicked, Xie Yilu told him the truth: “I don’t even know if they’re a man or a woman!”

“You’ll find out tomorrow.” Qu Feng shot him a meaningful look and glanced dubiously at the letter. “This is an invitation to a meeting.”

Xie Yilu’s cheeks burned and he felt a nervous sense of excitement. “Really?” he pressed extremely close, looking very eager. “How do you know?”

Qu Feng took in his naive demeanour with a smile and pointed at the three characters that read “shè lì zǐ”.“ “This shè is a near homonym to shí, so it means ‘ten’.” He moved his finger downwards to “bà líng qiáo”. Xie Yilu copied his methodology and guessed, “It’s… bā, so it means ‘eight’? 

“Exactly. Shí bā — that’s eighteen,” Qu Feng said. “The eighteenth, which is tomorrow.” 

The hand that Xie Yilu held the letter in was wet with sweat. “Then… what about ‘wù jiā qī’?  ‘Wù’ translates to ‘wǔ’, but that does this ‘five’ mean here?” 

“This column is the hour. Zi, chou, yin, mao, the fifth hour is chen3.” Qu Feng read onwards, 

“ ‘Xiāo lí huā’ translates to ‘xiǎo’ and ‘lùo méi fēng’ translates to ‘lǎo’. Xiǎo lǎo…” he paused momentarily in thought, “Xiaolao4 Spring. It’s three and a half li south of Yangman Hill west of the city.” 

Xie Yilu broke into a smile of the extremely bright and cheerful kind. Seeing this, Qu Feng did not want him to go. “This… is a code often used by prostitutes.” 

Xie Yilu’s face visibly tensed for a second. The corners of his lip pulled taut: “If she has time to exchange letters with me, I suppose her business isn’t doing too well.” 

“With such beautiful calligraphy,” Qu Feng spoke frankly, “she won’t be an ordinary prostitute.” 

Xie Yilu took a detour to the Temple of Confucius on his way back home from the yamen. Kites were already on sale in the little stalls and opposite them, the surface of the Qinhuai River had become a field of lantern light, the melodies of string and woodwind instruments weaving together with the sounds of frolicking men and women into an unending song. Xie Yilu stood on this side of the bank; the more noise there was on the river, the lonelier he felt. Alone, he walked along the embankment towards a quieter place, kicking at stones along the way. 

The households living on either side of the river were lighting fires and cooking dinner and occasionally, an old lady was out beating her washing. The scent of oil and salt, of smoke and cooked food and the intermittent but loud sounds of chatting children all made him feel sorrowfully homesick. The second household from the east end of Mofang Hutong — his wife and the old scholar tree he had so often climbed as a child were all there, yet tomorrow, he would be going to see a prostitute in Nanjing, a place a thousand li from home. 

As he was wandering aimlessly, a person approached him from head-on. He was very tall, and as soon as Xie Yilu fixed his gaze on the newcomer, he immediately froze in his tracks. It was Yishiha, dressed in a jade coloured yisan made of suofu5 fabric and armed with a sabre. 

Yishiha was Ruan Dian’s underling. Xie Yilu took a step backwards and even considered running. “Don’t leave your house for the next two days,” was what Qu Feng had said to him. Could it be happening, right now, and in this sort of place?

Xie Yilu knew he had no hope of winning but he still adopted a fighting stance. Although he wanted to fight, it was Yishiha who skirted around him instead and continued walking. When they passed each other, Xie Yilu clearly heard him say, “Go home, right now!” 

Go home? Xie Yilu spun around. “Why are you…” 

Yishiha did not stop his steps. “For the fabric you tore off your robe that day to bandage A-Cai’s head.”

Just as he finished speaking, someone dashed out from an alley, so unexpectedly and so  terrifyingly that both Yishiha and Xie Yilu jumped in fright. Yet before they could react, that person had cut straight across the slabstone road and jumped into the river with a splash. 

It was a naked woman, her hair untied. She was no assassin sent by Ruan Dian, but rather a little girl who had been conned into giving up her virginity. This sort of thing was all too common on the banks of Qinhuai River. 

Yishiha jumped into the water in less time than it took for one to blink. It was right in the middle of the spring rise of the water level, so the river was roaring eastwards. The girl struggled desperately in the current, pulling him downwards. 

Xie Yilu stood on the bank in helpless worry, but Yishiha yelled at him from the river: “I told you to go, are you deaf?!” 

Stamping his foot, Xie Yilu took off in the direction of the civilian houses. He found a long bamboo ladder next to the wall of a three-storeyed little building, which he carried back over and tossed onto the river while holding onto one end with both hands. The woman wanted to die so she clawed for all she was worth at anything in her way. Yishiha could only paddle towards the ladder single-handedly. When he was close enough, he first draped the woman onto it and then pushed her towards the riverbank as he swam. 

Xie Yilu hauled the woman onto the bank, his face and body now wet thanks to her struggling. He was just about to pull Yishiha out when two young men wearing brocade headbands6 came up behind him. They looked at the woman, then at Xie Yilu, and pulled out firewood cleavers from the back of their waists. 

They were hired thugs from a brothel. Xie Yilu scurried backwards until he reached the edge of the bank and had nowhere else to go. The sound of pouring water came from behind him and, upon seeing Yishiha pulling himself out of the river, the two thugs turned and fled. 

The woman was curled up and crying on the ground. Xie Yilu did not dare to touch her, but Yishiha seemed to be indifferent to her grief — he shrugged his shoulders and began to undress. Xie Yilu stared dumbly as he revealed his strong, scar-ridden torso. He wrung his yisan dry in two twists and draped it over the woman. 

Perhaps out of anger or an unwillingness to accept that she had been saved, the woman grabbed Yishia’s arm and savagely bit him, her jaws clenching so tightly that even Xie Yilu felt pain on his behalf. Yishiha did not hold back and slapped her, hard, across the face.

The woman toppled over and it took a while before she raised her head again, her long hair sticking to her face, obscuring her features. Yishiha was silent the entire time and did not shy away at all from her bouncing breasts and lithe body. Instead, his words were addressed to Xie Yilu: “I told you to go.” 

It was indeed time for Xie Yilu to go. He turned around and ran back the way he came. The Temple of Confucius awaited before him with its endless streams of people.

He had not left Yishiha’s sight for long when brisk footsteps sounded from behind him. Xie Yilu panicked and in his panic, he took the wrong path. His surroundings became more and more secluded and soon, he turned into a dead end alley. 

He had no choice but to turn around and face whoever came. He took off his official’s hat and stood on tiptoes to hang it from the tip of a branch. 

The sky had just darkened and the shadowy outlines of rooftop weeds rustled overhead. A person walked out from the sinister shade of a tree, short of stature and carrying a long sabre on his back — it was A-Liu.

For a split second, Xie Yilu rejoiced — rejoiced that his opponent was only a child. But when A-Liu twisted his body around and pulled out the sabre on his back with practised ease, and when the moonlight illuminated the blade’s surface, reflecting it into his ice-cold eyes, Xie Yilu finally realised the expression in them was not one of a child. No, they were boundless pools of black, millions of drops of blood and a glimpse into hell itself.

Sure enough, the long sabre was already headed straight for Xie Yilu before he could even prepare himself. His chest, legs and cheeks were all slit open yet he did not really feel pain, only a burning sensation. Blood poured out from the hideous wounds, soaking his official’s robes and dripping onto the ground by his feet which caused him to slip and fall down,

His field of vision was dominated by a massive full moon and A-Liu’s face, pressed in close to his. By this point, Xie Yilu was, paradoxically, no longer afraid. From this angle, A-Liu looked very beautiful, his round eyes with their thick lashes reminding him of little creatures like kittens. 

A-Liu crouched down, bent his elbow and aimed at Xie Yilu’s face. He brought it down hard, once, twice.  Blood immediately flowed from Xie Yilu’s nose and he whimpered as he coughed. A-Liu turned his face this way and that, as if he were examining it. 

“Give… give me,” bloody froth spewed out as soon as he opened his mouth. Xie Yilu found it strange that despite bleeding so much, his wounds did not really hurt. “Give me… a quick end!” 

On cue, A-Liu raised his sabre and placed its thin blade against the base of Xie Yilu’s throat. However, he only wrenched Xie Yilu’s chin upwards and lightly swiped his neck against the blade before pulling his sabre back, standing up and leaving. 

Xie Yilu felt blood slowly seep out from his throat but it was not the torrential flow he had expected. Was this what death felt like? He blinked and was just about to close his eyes when A-Liu turned back, a large striped cat in hand. Xie Yilu had no sooner noted that they looked so much alike than his face was drenched in hot cat blood. 

It was only now that Xie Yilu felt something was off. He strained to stare at A-Liu and saw him bleed the cat dry over his body before tossing the dead animal onto a roof with a flick of his hand. 

“You…” he reached out a hand, wanting to grab onto something. “You are …” 

A-Liu strode over and stepped over his face, his hands gripping onto the shoulders of his clothes and dragged him towards the main road. Xie Yilu was a little foggy from blood loss.  “Is this also… cough cough, because of Zhang Cai?” He was shivering and about to faint at any moment. “If you save me, how can you explain yourself when you go back…” 

A-Liu did not reply to him. Actually, he had not said a single word the entire night. He left Xie Yilu in the middle of the road and picked up a random stick to knock on the stone slabs. The sound he made was very muffled but Xie Yilu understood through his daze that he was trying to make enough sound to draw people over…. wouldn’t it have been easier to yell out? Xie Yilu smiled at the child’s stupidity and was just about to shout at him when he heard a massive crash — a half-storey high pile of firewood had been kicked down. Very soon, civilians carrying lanterns came shouting and running over.

Xie Yilu hovered on the verge of consciousness as countless faces danced before his eyes. There were men, women, the elderly and the young, but none were willing to touch him; that was, until someone said with trepidation, “He’s an official. If we don’t save him, we’ll all suffer!” 

It was only then that people came over to lift him up. They might have been using a bamboo ladder since it creaked as it jolted and hurt his back. He passed out only to wake up again, not knowing whether he was experiencing reality or a dreamscape when he heard the uniform thumping of footsteps and saw neat armour and frigid spears. The civilians carrying him were muttering quietly, “It’s the Zhejiang Army7. Why’d the Zhejiang Army enter the city?”

Xie Yilu tilted his head to have a look. There was a long column of soldiers, led by a black horse. The hem of an yisan dangled down from the saddle — it was a familiar turquoise blue. 

His arm slipped off the bamboo ladder. He frowned and moved his mouth. Just before he succumbed to unconsciousness, the last thought that flashed across his mind was, tomorrow at the hour of chen, Xiaolao Spring beneath Liuman Hill, I’m not going to make it… 

Translator’s Notes

Again, not as much history to discuss this chapter. I hope the code at the beginning of the chapter was understandable, but since it relies on Chinese homonyms, it will never fully translate into English.

Footnotes

1.  舍利子, a generic term for Buddhist relics that usually refers to pearl/crystal-like substances found in the cremated ashes of Buddhist masters. 

2. 点卯, refers to the counting of officials in the morning to see who has shown up for their shift. Mao refers to the hour of mao which is 5-7 am. 

3. 辰时, 7-9 am. 

4. 小老, literally “old small”. 

5. 琐幅, appears to be a type of textile made from bird feathers. I wasn’t able to find a definition of 琐幅 itself but it seems that this textile is known by many other names like 梭服, 锁袱 etc. This rendition that appears in the novel likely came from《天水冰山录》which is a list of all the items confiscated from the property of the father and son duo of corrupt officials, Yan Song and Yan Shifan in the reign of Jiajing. 

6. 缠头, a decorative headband worn by entertainers in the past. 

7. 浙江军, the army stationed in Zhejiang Province. Ming Zhejiang is more or less in the same place as modern Zhejiang and is just south of the Southern Direct Administration Region (南直隶) around Nanjing.