Chapter 532: Eunuchs in the Royal Palace

Lingzhou was the military headquarters of the Shuofang Jiedushi, located on the east bank of the Yellow River. It was a large city with a circumference of over forty li, home to nearly 300,000 residents, most of whom were the families of the Shuofang army soldiers.
This area also marked the beginning of the Hetao Plain, where the soil was fertile and water supplies abundant, making agriculture highly developed. With a large number of troops stationed here, the military farmlands in this region were particularly extensive. There were two types of military farmlands: one was the land allocated to the soldiers’ families, which served as their means of livelihood, while the other was dedicated to growing military provisions, cultivated by the soldiers themselves. The original strength of the Shuofang army was 64,700 men. Although the imperial court supplied grain annually, most of the military provisions still came from self-cultivation. Especially after Guo Ziyi took over as the Jiedushi, he placed even greater emphasis on farming, encouraging the army to reclaim land. Within just two years, the area dedicated to growing military provisions doubled.
In fact, Li Qingan’s intelligence was still based on information from two years ago. Based on that scale of military farmlands, the Shuofang army indeed could not support a hundred thousand troops—maximally, only 40,000.
But through several years of effort by Guo Ziyi, he was now able to feed a hundred thousand troops thanks to the military farmlands in Lingzhou and the vast grasslands and fertile lands in the Hetao region.
This was the main reason why Guo Ziyi abandoned the Guannei Circuit. As the Shuofang Jiedushi, the Guannei Circuit had never been part of his traditional territory. Now that Li Qingan was returning powerfully to the east, Guo Ziyi, unwilling to conflict with him, voluntarily stepped back to his original territory in Shuofang.
Inside the large tent, it was quiet. Guo Ziyi sat alone at his desk, lost in thought. He had just received news that bandits were causing trouble in Jingzhou, and Li Qingan had already sent 5,000 troops there to suppress them.
This news made Guo Ziyi smile bitterly. He certainly knew there were bandits in Anding County, but the timing of this outbreak was too convenient—just after he left, the banditry started. Although it seemed logical and inevitable, Guo Ziyi understood Li Qingan’s true intention. By sending 5,000 troops to Jingzhou under the pretext of suppressing bandits, Li Qingan was actually testing his reaction.
This also showed that Li Qingan did not trust Guo Ziyi’s withdrawal and was highly wary of him. It was understandable, though—how could one tolerate someone snoring beside one’s bed? Li Qingan controlled vast territories such as Guanzhong, Longyou, Hexi, and Anxi, while Guo Ziyi led a hundred thousand troops threatening his position. He could advance south into Guanzhong or west into Longyou, Hexi, and even Anxi, posing a serious threat to Li Qingan’s foundation. Thus, it made sense that after entering Guanzhong, Li Qingan’s first target would be Guo Ziyi himself.

Thinking of this, Guo Ziyi couldn’t help but sigh deeply. With his hands behind his back, he slowly walked to the main tent and gazed at the southern sky. Like everyone else, he had also noticed Li Qing’an’s ambition to ascend the throne. Although Li Qing’an was also a member of the Li Tang royal family and a prince second only to the emperor and the crown prince, Guo Ziyi did not support his ascension.

This might have stemmed from Guo Ziyi’s deeply rooted sense of orthodoxy. Prince Jiancheng had long ceased to be the legitimate heir of the Tang Dynasty a hundred years ago; the true legitimate heir should be a descendant of Emperor Taizong. It was like a distant, lesser relative trying to inherit the leadership of a prominent family—a notion hard to accept. Li Qing’an was made the King of Zhao merely because of his strength, forcing Emperor Jingzong to confer the title; otherwise, since Li Linfu was also a descendant of the Li family, could he also inherit the throne?

Another important reason for Guo Ziyi’s retreat to Lingzhou this time was that Li Qing’an had not seized the throne by force but instead installed Li Yu’s son as emperor. This relieved him somewhat. But what if Li Qing’an had truly forced his way onto the throne? Even Guo Ziyi himself didn’t know, but one thing was certain: he would never support him. He might instead support Li Longji, provided that Li Longji did not make Li Hen the crown prince. He also could not accept someone who had killed two emperors as his ruler.

So he might turn to King Li Mao of Jing or King Li Lin of Yangzhou for support. In any case, Guo Ziyi would absolutely not kowtow to Li Qing’an three times and nine times.

But since Li Qing’an had not ascended the throne and had instead chosen a young new emperor, Guo Ziyi realized that it was his own reluctance to go to the capital that had made Li Qing’an suspicious of him, prompting him to send troops to suppress bandits as a test.

Thinking of this, Guo Ziyi stepped out of the tent and said to his personal guards, “Get ready! We’re heading to the capital.”

……

In late June, Chang’an reached the peak of the hot season. The oppressive heat was relentless—the sun baked the roads in Chang’an until they were dry and scorching hot. With each step, white steam rose from the ground, and a transparent heat wave seemed to flow through the air. The entire city of Chang’an exuded an atmosphere of burning heat.

Chang’an seemed eerily quiet. Everyone stayed indoors, refusing to go outside. The streets and alleys were silent, with not a single passerby in sight.

These days, Li Qing’an had also stayed in his own palace, not attending court. Li Qing’an’s Palace of Zhao was originally located in Huaiyuan Fang, the old residence of Wu Sansi. Since this palace was near the Western Market, there were countless merchants coming and going, with cargo carts moving day and night, keeping the area noisy from morning till night. Mingyue really disliked this place.

When Li Qing’an returned to the capital, the government also felt that Huaiyuan Fang was too far from the imperial city, with a large number of outsiders living there, which posed a risk to Li Qing’an’s safety and was not in line with his status. Thus, they converted the former residence of Princess Taiping in Xingdao Fang into the new Prince Zhao’s mansion. Xingdao Fang was a famous district in Chang’an, inhabited mostly by high-ranking officials and nobles. There stood numerous large mansions one after another, surrounded by dense trees, creating a very quiet and elegant environment. Princess Taiping’s former residence was a massive house comparable to a palace, built to the standards of the imperial palace. Covering 150 acres, with high eaves and grand beams, it was once bestowed upon Li Linfu by Emperor Li Longji, but he dared not live there and continued to reside in his old house in Pingkang Fang. Mingyue grew up in the neighboring Wuben Fang and also loved Xingdao Fang. She had visited Princess Taiping’s huge mansion several times as a child but never imagined that she would become its mistress. With her new home in Xingdao Fang, Mingyue could hardly bear to stay in Huaiyuan Fang for a single day. Half a month later, when Princess Taiping’s mansion was repaired and officially designated as Prince Zhao’s mansion, Mingyue, regardless of the heat, took Ruhua and a group of maids to see the new house that very day. “It’s so hot! Unbearably hot!” Ruhua waved a light silk fan as she came out of a warehouse in the back yard. The warehouse was as sweltering as a steamer; after staying there for just a moment, she was already drenched in sweat, with sweat on her forehead causing her hair to become slightly disheveled. “It’s not here. Let’s look for another room.” Ruhua was searching for a cellar where ice could be stored. Ice was a precious item for the Tang people to endure the summer; wealthy families usually had ice wells, while the imperial palace and noble households had specialized ice cellars where they stored large amounts of ice during winter for use in the hot summers. Ruhua was extremely afraid of heat and almost always relied on chilled plum juice to get through the hot seasons. She had lived in Anxi for a long time, where their mansion had an ice cellar, as did the Dugu family, which made her life quite comfortable over the years. Upon moving to the new house, her first task was to find the ice cellar in Princess Taiping’s mansion. There was a dedicated steward in charge of the mansion, and while others knew about the old ice cellar, it had been converted into a wine cellar. No one else knew the location of the new ice cellar except the steward. Unfortunately, the steward was away due to family matters that day, and Mingyue had already sent people to look for him.

But as the heat became unbearable, she took two maids and started searching warehouse by warehouse. She had been looking for half a day yet still couldn’t find the location of the new ice cellar. She asked several servants, but none of them knew either. Drenched in sweat from the heat, she gave up searching and sat under a big tree to cool off. Just then, a maid rushed over with a middle-aged man—this man was the steward in charge of the mansion, named Pan Xiaoliang, who was actually an eunuch. After Li Yu ascended the throne, in an effort to cut costs, he carried out a large-scale cleanup of Daming Palace. Not only were Li Longji’s 40,000 concubines sent home, but nearly 100,000 palace maids and eunuchs were also released. If lucky, palace maids could apply to leave the palace and get married, but it was difficult for eunuchs to find a place to live or have their status revoked. Considering their situation, Li Yu sent them to the residences of various princes and nobles so they could at least have food to eat. Pan Xiaoliang was an eunuch from the Eastern Palace. He entered the palace at 15 and had been an eunuch for nearly 30 years. Due to his honesty, he never received any promotions. Without any connections, he was naturally dismissed from the palace. Fortunately, because of his long service, he was assigned as a steward at Princess Taiping’s former residence. He had planned to spend the rest of his life there, but to his great surprise, Li Qingan, the most powerful man in the Tang Dynasty, became the new owner of Princess Taiping’s former residence, which made Pan Xiaoliang overjoyed, as if a withered tree had suddenly blossomed. But his luck ran out too. He thought Princess Zhao would arrive the next day, so he rushed home to make arrangements, only to find that the princess was in a hurry and came to inspect the house that day. When he returned to the mansion, he learned that it wasn’t the princess who was looking for him urgently, but the fourth concubine. Having spent time in the palace, Pan Xiaoliang knew some secrets that most people didn’t. For example, aside from knowing about Princess Mingyue, people knew little about Li Qingan’s other wives and concubines—referring here to their official titles. They weren’t just ordinary concubines; usually, princes’ main wives and concubines had titles granted to them. But Li Qingan’s wives and concubines were special. Empress Dowager Shen had issued an order allowing Li Qingan’s wives and concubines to be granted titles according to the standards of the Eastern Palace. Besides Princess Mingyue, Li Qingan had one secondary concubine and two lesser concubines. Among them, Wuyi was granted the title of Liangdi, the third rank; Rushi and Ruhua were both granted the title of Chenghui, the fifth rank. After giving birth to Princess Julan, Rushi’s rank was raised to Liangyuan, the fourth rank. These titles were generally unknown, but Pan Xiaoliang knew them. Of course, he recognized that the young and beautiful woman before him was Lady Chenghui, who had always been by Li Qingan’s side.

He knelt down and kowtowed, saying, “Your humble servant, Pan Xiaoliang, pays his respects to Princess Chenghui. I arrived late in serving you; I hope you will forgive me!”
Ruhua was stunned, as no one had ever called her princess before. She had long forgotten her title—her official name was Li Ruhua, and everyone in Anxi called her the Fourth Lady. No one had ever addressed her as a princess.
She blinked and quickly waved her hand, saying, “Don’t call me Princess Chenghui. Our family doesn’t use such titles, and I don’t like it either. Just call me the Fourth Lady.”
“Yes! Your humble servant pays his respects to the Fourth Lady.”
At that moment, Mingyue came over and asked with a smile, “Are you Pan Xiaoliang, the steward of this mansion?”
Pan Xiaoliang had seen Mingyue before. Frightened, he quickly turned around and knelt down again, saying, “Your humble servant, Pan Xiaoliang, pays his respects to Princess Wang.”
Ruhua quickly ordered her maid to bring a folding chair for the princess. Mingyue sat down and said with a smile, “Get up! I’ve called you here today just to hand over some tasks. You won’t need to come again tomorrow.”
Pan Xiaoliang was shocked as if struck by lightning. He stood frozen for a while before silently nodding. “Your humble servant understands. I’ll go and take over the tasks right away.”
He turned to leave, but Mingyue called him back, “Wait a moment!”
“Yes! Is there anything else the princess wishes to order?”
Mingyue asked, “Where is your home? Do you have any family members?”
Pan Xiaoliang shook his head. “I’ve been in the palace for thirty years. I saved two hundred strings of coins and bought a small house in Yong’an Fang. I have no parents, no children—I live alone.”
Although Li Qing’an disliked eunuchs, Mingyue also considered that it was inconvenient for male servants to come and go in the inner chambers, and some physical tasks could only be done by men. Especially since Chang’an was much hotter than Suiye, female members of the family wore very light clothing in summer, so it was indeed inappropriate to let male servants come and go.
Mingyue thought there might be a few eunuchs in the prince’s mansion as well. She understood Li Qing’an’s concerns, but everything had two sides. As long as Li Qing’an himself didn’t trust eunuchs, there would be no problem.
After thinking for a while, she said, “If you want to stay, that’s also fine…”
Before Mingyue could finish speaking, Pan Xiaoliang excitedly knelt down with a thud and kowtowed repeatedly, saying, “Your humble servant thanks the princess for her great kindness!”
Mingyue had no choice but to shake her head and say, “Get up first. Let me finish speaking.”
“Yes!”
Pan Xiaoliang stood up and stood respectfully to the side. Only then did Mingyue slowly say, “If you want to stay, you must abide by our family’s rules. Our family’s rules are quite ordinary in Anxi, but they’re a bit different in Chang’an. I hope you can understand.”
“Yes! Your humble servant will definitely abide by them.”

“The first rule is regarding your title. There are no servants in our family, not even eunuchs. Remember! You are not allowed to kneel—princes hate it the most. Bending slightly to greet is sufficient. The second rule is that all the maids and servants in our family are free people. I will pay you a monthly salary, much higher than that of workers in outside shops. Of course, you can leave at any time, and I welcome those who choose to stay. The third rule is that although we do not punish our servants, if you commit serious mistakes, I will still dismiss you. These three are the most basic rules. There are other detailed rules as well, which you will understand later on.”
At this point, Mingyue took out a yellowed piece of paper and handed it to him. It was his household registration, which had been sent over by the eunuch supervisor earlier. I had already signed it. You can take it to the eunuch supervisor to cancel it, and then you can reapply for a new registration. Go ahead by yourself! If you encounter any difficulties, let me know, and I will handle it for you.
Pan Xiaoliang was stunned. He had heard that slavery had been abolished in Anxi, but they were eunuchs, forever servants of the royal family. How could they be compared to ordinary people? Yet today, for the first time, he truly felt what it meant to be a human being.
Pan Xiaoliang took the household registration with trembling hands. His nose stung, and tears streamed from his eyes. He quickly wiped them away and said in a low voice, “Your servant… no! I thank you, My Lady.”
At that moment, Ruhua smiled and said, “Now you can tell me where the ice cellar in this mansion is.”
“Yes! Yes!”
Pan Xiaoliang pointed to a lake in the distance and said, “The ice cellar is built by the lake. I’ll take my wife there. The palace sent a lot of ice the day before yesterday, which can be used anytime.”