Chapter Text
Most eunuch’s in the palace didn’t usually help with the so-called womanly tasks. Even though they were technically not men anymore, they were often assigned to scholarly and intellectual tasks, or as guards to the concubines. Some were even appointed as high-ranking government officials.
Shang Qinghua, however, was widely considered an impossible idiot amongst his bosses and residents of the imperial city alike. And that was exactly the way Shang Qinghua liked it. He got to do hair every day, and dress the concubines in whatever outfits they pleased. It was easy work, and people pitied him so much that they usually just let him do his own thing.
The “eunuch” didn’t want to stand out. That last thing he needed was to attract the attention of the the royal family or any of the higher-ups he worked under. Shang Qinghua wasn’t exactly conceited, but he knew that his high-born skills in reading and writing should have placed him in a position of power (relative to other eunuchs, of course). But being noticed meant risking his neck every second of every day. One wrong move, and he would lose a lot worse than his genitalia.
All Shang Qinghua wanted was a quiet life in which he made money, wrote in private, and had a decently warm bed to sleep in at night. Sure, he wasn’t living it up, but he wasn’t starving on the street either. And he wasn’t living with his family. That last part was the most important.
Most men would rather die than become a eunuch, and many more would balk at the idea of pretending to be one. Shang Qinghua knew that it was ludicrous, and that one wrong move would end up with him facing the sharp end of a blade. Even so, he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He had been cast out by his own family, and his hefty inheritance revoked—all because Shang Qinghua was a reprehensible disappointment.
“Is that all, my lady?” Shang Qinghua asked as he knelt down to adjust the concubine’s silky hem. He didn’t remember her name, so it was a good thing that he could just refer to her by title and honorifics without too much trouble. He wasn’t sure how he could possibly be expected to remember every single name of every single concubine in this sprawling rear palace. He only worked with a few dozen of the concubines, but all of their objectively pretty faces and names swirled in his brain like bland soup stock. Vaguely, Shang Qinghua thought that this one resembled a carrot, somehow.
The consort gazed upon him with disgust—an expression that one would wear when gazing upon a beetle stuck on its back. She probably wished that she could crush him. Instead, she tugged her robe away with a prissy humph and walked away with one of her preferred female attendants. “You are dismissed.”
Being a eunuch was tough work. One had to endure being seen as a maggot by most men and women alike. Shang Qinghua didn’t care so much about the women’s reactions. He wasn’t attracted to them or particularly interested in their company. But it was too bad that even the rare man he had the opportunity to see (that is, a man who still had his penis and testicles attached to his body) became too uncomfortable to even meet his eye. Shang Qinghua dreamt of living a life free to do what he wanted—where he could lie with men and write without interference or punishment, but that was more of a fantasy than a dream. No self-respecting man would risk social alienation for him, and especially not when he was a “eunuch,” for all intents and purposes.
No, Shang Qinghua made his choice years ago. He stole the papers of one of his father’s recently deceased eunuch servants, slapped his name on the documents, and orchestrated his transfer to the Imperial Palace. So, yes… He was a “eunuch.” And he was destined to spend the rest of his life never experiencing the embrace of another man, or even having his first kiss. Hell, he would have accepted a single, emotionless, loveless night of good sex.
Instead, he was picking up pearl hairpins and flipping hems for a living. He wasn’t thriving, but it was better than nothing. At least, that’s what Shang Qinghua told himself to sleep at night.
Shang Qinghua bowed to the concubine. As he turned to leave, he effortlessly repressed his urge to knock her perfume bottles to the ground. He stepped out into the hall, and found himself face-to-face with one of the laundry girls he spent much of his time outside of work with.
“Liu Mingyan!” Shang Qinghua yelped in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be standing there, lurking just outside the door. “Shouldn’t you be scrubbing underclothes right about now?
Her eyes squished upward slightly with a hidden smile. Years ago, before Shang Qinghua started working here, Liu Mingyan had been ordered to wear a veil over her mouth and nose. Apparently, a few of the concubines were so offended by her staggering beauty that they complained loudly to the emperor about the poor girl. The matron told her to cover herself, just as a way to avoid any unnecessary confrontation, and Liu Mingyan had been wearing the veil ever since. She was a hard and diligent worker, and she was one of the few servants who could read and write, but she had never been promoted once.
There was no concrete evidence, but Shang Qinghua suspected that her stagnant career path was a punishment for the pleasing arrangement of her facial features. It was so petty that it almost made Shang Qinghua want to wretch.
“Do you have time to talk?” Liu Mingyan asked. She stood with her usual poise. Her posture and way of speaking gave away her high-class upbringing. She should have been a valued attendant or head of house, but she had found herself in her lowly position because of the insecurities of some concubines. Thinking about how she still managed to carry herself with such pride made Shang Qinghua’s head hurt. “We have much to discuss.”
Shang Qinghua fought against a smirk. Liu Mingyan was being as professional as ever, but he knew what she was really asking him. During his time in the palace, the two had grown close over their unquenchable love for gossip. It was the only thing that kept the both of them in good spirits.
Quietly, Shang Qinghua nodded, and he lead Liu Mingyan away from the concubine’s bedroom door. They were able to find a secluded section of hallway, behind an ornate cabinet.
“Is there anything of particular interest today?” Shang Qinghua inquired, voice low. He kept his mouth half-hidden behind his sleeve to muffle his voice.
Liu Mingyan mimicked his posture, glancing carefully over her shoulder. “I spotted the eldest prince in the rear palace today. He was unaccompanied.”
Shang Qinghua’s eyes widened involuntarily. “His Highness Mobei-jun?”
Liu Mingyan nodded sagely.
“What was he doing here?” Shang Qinghua paused. Then, he covered his mouth as he realized something important. “The emperor visited his new favorite concubine last night, didn’t he? All of the ladies have been practically green with jealousy over it.”
Another nod from Liu Mingyan confirmed Shang Qinghua’s suspicions. “The prince intercepted his father as he was leaving that concubine’s bedchamber this morning. They fought.”
Shang Qinghua leaned in closer. “About what?”
“There is speculation that the emperor has plans to make that concubine the new empress,” Liu Mingyan whispered, so quietly that Shang Qinghua had to strain his ear. “I can only assume that the altercation had to do with it.”
“Did you hear what was said?”
Liu Mingyan shook her elegant head. “They retreated to a private room. I only heard the very beginning before the servants were all ordered away.”
Shang Qinghua stroked his chin, as if he had a beard there to fiddle with. He couldn’t grow one if he wanted to, but that was just another thing that made him that much more believable as a eunuch.
The prince always had a tense relationship with his father. Rumor had it that he resented the harem completely. Up until now, that had been mostly speculation, but intruding upon the rear palace with no escort and no invitation demonstrated a baffling level of disrespect for both the emperor and his many wives. Mobei-jun was practically announcing his disdain for the concubines publicly. “Do you think it has to do with his mother?”
“Most likely.” Liu Mingyan joined in the pensive chin-stroking. She somehow looked like a proper scholar when she did it, and seeing that made Shang Qinghua stop. “After all, I have heard that he’s never been the same since the death of the last empress. Older servants say that he only became dark and cold afterward. He stopped speaking to his father, and they started noticing his hatred for the harem growing quickly. This situation seems to have brought it all to a head.”
“This is the most interesting thing to happen to the rear palace in weeks,” Shang Qinghua admitted, a dangerous twinkle in his eye. This was the sort of juicy gossip that he lived for.
“Will you write it in your column, then?”
On instinct, Shang Qinghua’s hand darted out to cover Liu Mingyan’s veiled mouth. They had been talking quietly this whole time, and no one was around. However, his gossip column was more than just chatting in a hallway—it was practically treason.
After a moment, he removed his hand. He nodded. He hadn’t had a decent subject to write about in weeks, and his fingers were itching to jot this all down. He wanted to express his thoughts on the rather dramatic situation as soon as possible.
The gossip column was, of course, anonymous. And it was just another of the many secrets that Shang Qinghua kept. He circulated the column only amongst staff, and with only a handful of copies for each edition. Most of them couldn’t read, but the ones who could would secretly orate his writing to groups of their eager, illiterate coworkers. Everyone looked forward to it, as it felt like a way for them to get back at the nobility and their ridiculous whims. Every second spent being stepped on or mistreated or slighted seemed tolerable after reading about the royals’ embarrassingly imperfect lives. With Shang Qinghua, AKA “A Good Listener,” bringing the hottest gossip to their eyeballs, the entire rear palace staff seemed just a touch happier.
Shang Qinghua bid his friend farewell and stalked off, thinking intently about what he would write. Obviously, the eldest prince was out of control. It would only be a matter of time before he fell out of favor with his father—that is, if it hadn’t happened already. What he had done was nearly unforgivable, even for the crown prince and future emperor.
Shang Qinghua was so busy puzzling that he didn’t notice the tall, dark young man striding in his direction. They collided, Shang Qinghua’s face pressing squarely into the taller man’s chest. He pulled back and noticed the quality of the exceptional man’s shoes. His heart sunk as his eyes traveled up. And when his gaze rested on none other than the eldest prince’s scowling face, Shang Qinghua nearly fainted on the spot. He wasn’t used to eye contact from anyone other than Liu Mingyan, and the prince’s black eyes glued Shang Qinghua to the spot. The eye contact was intensely uncomfortable, and yet Shang Qinghua couldn’t look away.
Pale and shaking, the so-called eunuch managed to lock his knees and keep himself upright. He was surely about to be beheaded for his insolence. He hadn’t expected Mobei-jun to be here still, roaming around the rear palace. For a moment, all Shang Qinghua could think about was that he shouldn’t have been there, followed quickly by how dead he was. He managed a proper bow as soon as he knew that he wouldn’t pitch forward with a swoon.
However, instead of ordering his execution, Mobei-jun let out a gruff noise and elbowed Shang Qinghua out of the way. He didn’t hit him hard, but he pushed with enough force to move the smaller man to the other side of the hall. The prince kept on walking, as if he hadn’t bumped into Shang Qinghua at all.
Shang Qinghua watched him go, mouth hanging open stupidly. He was baffled by the rudeness of this so-called prince. Although, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Mobei-jun had a terrible reputation amongst the nobility, servants, and officials alike. His insolence was hardly a secret, but since he was the crown prince, future ruler of the empire, nobody dared to do anything about it.
Quickly, Shang Qinghua pulled himself back together and started walking once again. Now, he was looking forward even more to telling the entire rear palace about Mobei-jun’s personal business. Somebody simply had to take him down a peg, and Shang Qinghua was willing to get his hands dirty to do it—that much was only fair.