China by Edward Rutherfurd (latest novels to read TXT) 📗

In recent years, the business has been less tightly controlled. Quite a number of men can get a share, and still do very well. So these posts are much sought after.

I’ve just heard that one of these positions will be available before long, and I thought you might be interested. Hardly anyone knows about this yet, so if you move quickly, you might be able to secure it. Normally I’d have asked Prince Gong to put in a word for you—and that would probably have done the trick. But as you will have heard, during this recent succession crisis at court, Dowager Empress Cixi not only adopted her nephew and made him the new boy emperor, but she has reduced the power and influence of Prince Gong, alas. So for the time being, his support mightn’t do you much good.

However, there’s another fellow I happen to know who has the ear of Cixi. He’s a strange chap. I’ll tell you all about him if you come to Beijing. You’ll have to bribe him, of course.

So it was, after a pleasant midday meal with Mr. Peng, that Shi-Rong made his way to a prosperous street in the merchant quarter and came to a handsome doorway, where a servant let him in.

Given all that Mr. Peng had told him about his host, Shi-Rong was quite curious. As soon as the door closed, he found himself between the two fearsome warrior gods who guarded the hallway, stared at his reflection in the big mottled mirror in front of him, which repelled all evil spirits, and followed the servant to the left and then to the right into the courtyard.

He was impressed. This was the house of a rich man. He wondered how his host could have accumulated so much in only a dozen years. Was the bribe Peng had recommended going to be enough to satisfy such a person?

As they entered the courtyard, he noticed a youth of sixteen or seventeen, slipping quietly into a doorway in the far corner. Was this the son of his host? Glancing to one side, through the latticework screen of an open window, he caught a glimpse of a lady sitting on a brocade-covered divan; she appeared to be smoking an opium pipe. The boy’s mother, perhaps?

Ushered into a small but pleasant office, he was informed that the master of the house would be with him directly. And indeed, it was only moments before a faint rustle of silk outside the door announced his host.

—

So this was the married eunuch known as Lacquer Nail. A strange chap, Peng had called him. Certainly he wasn’t like any eunuch Shi-Rong had seen before.

He wore a simple but costly grey robe. On his head, a plain round cap of the same material. He looked exactly like a rich merchant. But there was a hint of the servile eunuch about him as well, Shi-Rong thought, as Lacquer Nail bowed low and sat down opposite his guest.

“My friend Mr. Peng has explained your requirements in detail, honored sir.” His voice was soft, but not as high as many eunuchs’. Did he detect, behind the respectful politeness, a hint of an impatient mind? Shi-Rong wondered.

Though it was hardly customary to compliment a stranger on first meeting him, Shi-Rong couldn’t help remarking: “I must congratulate you on your fine house.”

“It is not mine, sir,” his host replied. “This house belongs to my esteemed friend Mr. Chen. Since his retirement to the country, I rent it from him, on the understanding that it is his to use whenever he wishes. He comes to stay with us for a month, twice a year.”

“An admirable arrangement.”

“Mr. Chen was an early mentor of mine. Like me, he became a eunuch after he had married and had a family. Here he lived as a merchant, as I do. The neighbors are not even aware of my position in the palace.”

“Remarkable.”

For the next few minutes the two men exchanged the usual courtesies. Shi-Rong asked whether it was the eunuch’s son whom he’d caught a glimpse of, and Lacquer Nail said that it was. Shi-Rong thought it better not to ask after his wife.

“My own son is nearly thirty now,” he offered. “He’s in the Bureau of Foreign Affairs, here in Beijing.”

“An interesting place to be,” his host politely remarked. “I believe this generation is the first to take an interest in the lands beyond our borders since the days of the Ming dynasty. No doubt you are proud of him.”

Shi-Rong acknowledged this with a slight bow of his head.

“Mr. Peng has spoken to you of my requirements?” Lacquer Nail continued. Evidently he was done with the pleasantries now.

“He has. Everything is in order. He suggested I should leave this small gift with you…”—Shi-Rong produced a bag of silver—“to cover any expenses you might incur, with the balance to be made upon my securing the appointment.”

“Quite so. It will require patience, you know. Timing is everything.” Lacquer Nail gazed at the mandarin thoughtfully. “May I speak frankly and without reservation?”

“Of course.”

“Then I must tell you, honored sir, that while I am a devoted slave to the Dowager Empress Cixi—I owe her everything and I would die for her—that doesn’t mean she’s without fault.”

“Few of us are.”

“She has a remarkable instinct. Even her most exasperating decisions often turn out to be good—at least for her. But she’s changeable. You never know what mood she’ll be in from one day to the next. Someone like me, trusted for many years, is fairly safe. I’m only the eunuch who does her nails, and it amuses her to talk to me. But you know how she recently turned upon Prince Gong himself.”

“Of course.”

“She didn’t try to destroy him. For she’s not without gratitude. But for the present, his influence is uncertain.”

“So I have heard.”

“In short, honored sir, I must tread carefully. First, I must wait until the post is officially under consideration. To raise the