After the Giant Immortal Palace in Dunhuang City was split into two halves by an immense force, the eunuchs and palace maids assigned to the Yeting Palace were treated like outcasts, as if cast into a cold and forsaken corner of the world. Most of these individuals were minor figures who had never gained favor or influence. At first, a few ambitious souls, hoping to seize an opportunity for power, voluntarily transferred from the prestigious Zijin Palace to Yeting. But upon realizing that their mysterious new master, rarely seen like the head of a dragon glimpsed only briefly, had no intention of taking residence, their hopes quickly withered. They scrambled to bribe the Ministry of Household with silver and gifts, switching allegiances back to Zijin like reeds swaying in the wind.
Now, fewer than a hundred remained to maintain the two palaces and four halls, along with the picturesque Yu Jing Garden, a place of exceptional scenery. Their duties were limited to tending flowers and sweeping courtyards, with no chance of advancement or profit. Not long ago, a female official was assaulted by the young cavalry commander of the Golden Guard. No one dared to speak of it, except when the commander, notorious across the city for his pungent body odor, drunkenly confessed, and the tale reached the ears of the Zijin Palace master, who had him beheaded and displayed publicly. Otherwise, who knows how many more times she might have suffered.
Modeled after the imperial gardens of the Central Plains, Yu Jing Garden was an extravagant feat of engineering built atop the sands of Dunhuang. Just the water supply for the garden cost a fortune, a testament to the immense pressure the demon lord Luo Yang once placed upon the city.
For young eunuchs like Dongshou, the new master of Zijin Palace and the elusive chief demon of Yeting Palace in the northern state of Nanzhao were distant, terrifying figures—ones they hoped never to meet.
Dongshou was twelve or thirteen, delicate and frail. Two winters ago, he entered the palace and took an elderly eunuch as his master, who renamed him Dongshou. His family was destitute—his parents were ill, and his younger sisters were starving. Children of poverty grow up quickly, but without land or skills, even begging could only bring so many bowls of rice home.
At only nine years old, he made a desperate decision. Having overheard whispers of a method, he secretly castrated himself, bleeding and fainting in the snow outside the northern gate of the Temple of Ksitigarbha’s Vow. A senior eunuch, out purchasing food supplies, found him and, after much pleading and using up every ounce of goodwill he had saved over a lifetime, managed to bring the boy into the palace as a minor servant. Unfortunately, the castration had not been complete. Dongshou lay ill for three months before recovering, only to be dragged to the Chamber of Discipline for a second, more thorough procedure. He nearly died that winter, but the old eunuch spent what little money he had to nurse the boy back to health. Grateful beyond words, Dongshou naturally became his disciple, hence the name Dongshou.
But the old eunuch held no power or influence, nor had he formed any alliances. He himself was merely a laborer in the Yu Jing Garden of Zijin Palace, so Dongshou had no opportunity to gain better, more profitable positions there. Still, the palace expenses were low, and he could send some of his monthly wages outside the palace walls to his family—though much of it was skimmed by other eunuchs along the way. Dongshou never complained. He had heard that one of his younger sisters had been sold, but now his wages would be enough to support the rest of his family. He only felt guilt, vowing that once he rose in rank—perhaps in five or six years—he would save enough to buy her back.
The older eunuchs in Yeting Palace often picked on him for amusement. The palace was strict, and eunuchs were few. There was no joy in their lives, and any gambling or gossiping in groups would be punished by death. Yeting was like a stepchild, neglected and lifeless. The more mischievous eunuchs would occasionally target Dongshou, dragging him into the shadows of Yu Jing Garden, stripping off his pants, and stomping on him. They didn’t dare go too far—lest they kill him and be forced to pay with their own lives.
Five or six eunuchs laughed and walked away. Dongshou silently pulled up his pants, brushed off the dust, and leaned against a rock garden, panting in pain. The rock formation behind him was called Dui Chunshan, or “Spring Pile Mountain.” His master had told him it was built from stones brought from the Spring God Lake in the Eastern Yue Dynasty. The path beneath his feet was paved with pebbles forming the characters for “fortune,” “rank,” and “longevity.” Dongshou could only recognize those three characters. He guessed that was all he would ever know, maybe adding only the “winter” in his name, Dong. He had once asked his master how to write the “Tong” in his original surname, but the old man coldly replied, “Once you enter the palace, forget such useless things.” From that day on, Dongshou gave up, fully embracing his identity as a palace servant.
He took a few steps but had to stop again, his body aching. He still had to secretly water and prune the flowers for his master. As he moved forward, he suddenly halted. Standing at the mouth of Dui Chunshan was a graceful figure in a purple robe. The man was even more striking than the Golden Guard riders, and his robe was of a beauty and refinement Dongshou had never imagined. Dongshou immediately knelt.
Xu Fengnian looked at the young eunuch. This was their second meeting. The first time, Xu had been sitting in a tree, watching the boy sneak to the top of Dui Chunshan, gazing outside the palace walls, and quietly weeping.
Xu Fengnian said calmly, “Don’t kneel. I’m not a palace person.”
The boy hesitated, his face pale, then grabbed Xu’s sleeve and whispered urgently, “You must leave now! If they catch you, they’ll kill you!”
Xu smiled and asked, “Why aren’t you calling for help?”
Dongshou seemed confused, hesitated, then shook his head. He realized his hand might be dirtying the man’s sleeve and quickly pulled it back, still whispering in fear, “Please run! If you’re discovered, it’ll be too late! They’ll really cut your head off!”
Xu said, “Don’t worry. I’m a stonemason here to repair Dui Chunshan—the rock garden behind me.”
Dongshou studied him for a moment. He didn’t seem to be lying. The boy relaxed visibly.
Xu asked, “Why were you beaten?”
Dongshou tensed again, instinctively stammering, “N-no, just playing with friends.”
Xu scoffed, “Friends? A little eunuch like you, talking about friends?”
Dongshou flushed red, then turned pale, unsure what to do.
Xu shook his head slightly and asked, “You’re Dongshou? One of the old eunuchs gave you that name, right? I guess your master is just another lazy good-for-nothing.”
For the first time, Dongshou felt anger rise, though he still stammered, “Don’t—you—you talk like that about my master!”
Xu gave him a sidelong glance and said, “So what? What can you do? Beat me? I’m an official stonemason hired by the palace. You think you can afford to offend me? Want me to get your master kicked out too? Then you can both starve to death. In that case, don’t call yourself Dongshou anymore—call yourself ‘Xia Si’ (Summer Death).”
Dongshou burst into tears, fell to his knees, and no longer stammered. He began bowing furiously, “It’s Dongshou’s fault! I offended the stonemason master! Please beat me, but don’t punish my master…”
The boy’s forehead soon bled on the pebbled floor, right on the character for “longevity.”
Xu Fengnian saw Hongyu approaching from the corner of his eye and waved her away. He said slowly, “Stand up. I’m here to work, not to quarrel with you.”
The boy still didn’t dare rise, continuing to bow, “The stonemason master is generous! Please beat me to vent your anger! Only after you’re satisfied may I rise.”
Xu suddenly snapped, “Stand up!”
Even the distant Hongyu was startled.
Dongshou timidly stood, not daring to wipe the blood, letting it stream down his eyebrows and cheeks.
Xu reached out to wipe it with his sleeve, but the boy flinched back. Seeing Xu’s frown, he dared not retreat again, fearing he might anger the stonemason further.
After wiping the blood, the two stood in silence.
Xu finally said gently, “Go on with your work.”
The boy left nervously, then glanced back once he was far away. To his shock, the purple-robed stonemason was still there, smiling.
“I’m just looking around. Don’t mind me.”
As Dongshou pruned the precious flowers, each one worth more than his life, he saw the stonemason pluck a flower. He began to cry again, whispering that it was a capital offense. The man simply said, “I’m a stonemason. It’s fine.”
That day, Dongshou cried no fewer than six times while working. Fortunately, Yu Jing Garden was vast, and no one noticed the flowerbed. Dongshou felt his Courage were about to burst, his teeth chattering in fear. Yet he lacked the courage to call for help. Though the stonemason spoke lightly, Dongshou feared that if caught, he too would be executed.
Then came a sight that struck Dongshou like lightning: the stonemason approached a woman in embroidered robes, and they began chatting and laughing.
Colluding with a palace lady—another capital crime!
Dongshou closed his eyes and muttered, “I saw nothing. Nothing at all…”
Xu returned to the boy and smiled, “Before entering the palace, what was your original name?”
Dongshou hesitated.
Xu waited in silence.
Dongshou finally whispered, “Tong Guan. ‘Guan’ as in ‘a string of coins.’”
Xu nodded and smiled, “A good name.”
Dongshou looked up, eyes bright, and asked, “Really?”
Xu said solemnly, “Yes. There was a powerful eunuch named Tong Guan in the fallen Southern Tang kingdom of Liyang. He became the ‘Female Chancellor,’ wielding power equal to a prime minister.”
Dongshou looked puzzled.
Xu sat on the grass by the lake, surrounded by blooming flowers, and explained, “When a man becomes prime minister, it’s called ‘Gong Xiang.’ But this Tong Guan was so powerful that people had to distinguish him as ‘Ao Xiang,’ while the prime minister was ‘Gong Xiang.’”
The boy smiled secretly, proud.
Xu changed the subject, “Do you know that Dui Chunshan is where the Dunhuang lord climbs on the Double Ninth Festival?”
Dongshou shook his head, “My master never told me.”
Xu smiled, “Next time you miss home, go there and look outside the palace.”
Dongshou blushed.
Xu asked, “If one day you became a high-ranking eunuch, what would you do?”
Dongshou shyly replied, “Send money to my parents and sister.”
“What else?”
“Take care of my master.”
“That’s all?”
“I guess so.”
“Tell the truth.”
“I’d kill the eunuchs who mock my master!”
“The ones who bully you?”
“All of them. I’d flay them and rip out their tendons.”
Regretting his outburst, Dongshou suddenly felt fear and remorse, recalling his master’s teachings. He fell silent, unwilling to speak another word.
Xu looked at the lake and said lightly, “Don’t be afraid. That’s what a man should think and say. I have no time to bother with a little eunuch like you.”
Dongshou whispered, “Am I a man?”
Xu smiled, “You know the answer.”
Hongyu had never interrupted them.
In the following days, Xu Fengnian spent time in Yu Jing Garden, chatting with Dongshou. The boy gradually grew less timid, becoming more lively.
“Do you think a woman’s temper is related to the size of her breasts? Think about the palace maids you know.”
“Hmm… it seems true!”
“So which palace maid has the biggest?”
“That would be Lady Qixue. She’s so beautiful. The Golden Guard riders always stare at her. Heh, I do too, but only in my mind. Oh, and there’s Lady Shiyu in Chengrui Hall. She might be even bigger, though not as pretty as Qixue.”
“So you like big ones?”
“No. I think too big isn’t good. It must be tiring carrying them around. Faces are more important.”
“You’re still young. You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me!”
“You’re a eunuch. What do you need to know?”
“Sigh…”
“Do you worry about such things?”
“I have food and shelter. Why worry? I know some eunuchs and maids secretly pair up. They’re pitiful.”
“More pitiful than you?”
“Sigh…”
“Dongshou, you only know how to sigh.”
“Hehe… I’m not educated. I don’t know what to say.”
Their final meeting was brief, at dusk.
Xu said, “I’ve finished my work. I must leave the palace.”
Dongshou tried not to cry but failed, sobbing uncontrollably. Then he ran off, returning with a small money pouch, begging Xu to deliver it to his family outside.
Xu asked, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll keep it?”
Dongshou shook his head, “I know you’re not like that!”
Xu threw the pouch back, hitting him in the face, “You know nothing! What if I forget or someone steals it? Can your family survive a month?”
Dongshou picked up the pouch, hurt and confused, tears welling again.
Xu gently patted his head, “Don’t trust easily. But once you decide to trust someone, commit fully. Give me the pouch. I’ll make sure it reaches your family.”
Dongshou wiped his tears, handed over the pouch, and smiled brightly.
Xu turned to leave, then paused.
“Go break off a flower branch.”
The boy struggled but finally did so. Xu squatted and wrote two characters on the ground with the branch. He looked up.
Dongshou trembled, whispering, “Tong Guan?”
Xu stood, snapped the branch into pieces, and tossed them into the lake. He ruffled the boy’s hair.
The boy cried and laughed.
Xu walked away, pausing at a corner to see Hongyu waiting.
Hongyu asked softly, “A quiet, safe position for the boy, or throw him into the fire?”
Xu shook his head, “Not yet. Wait two years. If his nature remains good, find someone to teach him to read, then send him to the Sutra Pavilion. Let him explore the secret texts. Don’t push him. It depends on his own fate.”
Hongyu nodded.
By the lake, Dongshou gathered some branches, planning to throw them into the deep crevices of Dui Chunshan.
He knelt beside the two characters “Tong Guan,” staring at them again and again, memorizing them. When he tried to erase them, he hesitated. Finally, he took a thorny branch and carved the two characters into his palm.
He sat there, lost in thought, then murmured, “I should’ve asked him to teach me how to write ‘winter.’”
He slapped his own face, “Don’t be ungrateful!”
He stood, clenched his fist, and looked determined.
He opened his hand and whispered, “Tong Guan!”
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