Is it reckless waste of time? Wishful thinking? Idiotic delusion? Genius sent from the universe?

...We'll see.. In the meantime here's part of a beginning chapter from my third novel, entitled:

"The Eunuch."

The Eunuch.

At dawn, a hooded creature in a heavy wool coat padded his way backwards up a flight of fifty steps.

An outsider catching a glimpse of him would never venture to guess that this was Ying Shan, a eunuch but also a high royal manservant to the emperor and empress and a master of the palace household in the Forbidden City. Eunuchs were considered almost part of the woodwork in the Forbidden City, they were certainly visible with their haggard crimson robes and headdress used for prayers and ceremonies. They mostly kept to themselves, chanting and reading from Holy books. At times they were used as scribes and even cleaning servants. Ying Shan was different, one of the Palace's older and most trusted servants, who just happened to be of that religeous order. The Emperor insisted that whenever he had a notion to venture outside the grounds that he wear the cheapest wool cloth to disguise his rank and downplay any connection to the Imperial family around outsiders.

Rising at four a.m. daily, trying to be as quiet as possible, Ying Shan’s duties at the Palace were many and he seemed almost offended if you were to recognize him by accident. The palace guards, talking amongst themselves, often failed to recognize him from any wandering beggar who had lost his way but once they did, an opening was immediately created by the guards in perfect unison, lining the balustrades, stiff as statues. The polished thick body armor and long sharp spears contrasted starkly with the shriveled old man in plain cloth attire backing up the stairs, although Shan, it was believed, had immense power.

     One day he went over and kicked one of the guard’s shoes, informing him that his feet were not straight. The next day the guard was beheaded. No one could really tell if this was merely a display of Ying Shan’s power or part of a temper tantrum, and no one dared ask. Once he reached the top step Ying Shan pivoted, turning and bowing to each of the venerable Eight Immortals, engraved in sunken relief within the walls. Part of this ritual was performed as an act of supplication, that the idols might give him strength to see him through his busy day. Ying Shan’s daily tasks were indeed many and today there was much to do. In the space of a few hours Shan's duties included mopping the floors, cleaning the latrines, ironing the satin tunics for the concubines and shaving the emperor’s beard with extreme care. If he drew blood, even so much as a drop, it could result in months of solitary imprisonment for the unfortunate Ying. He was also required to dress the emperor, at least partially, in a manner similar to that of a British manservant.

     The chores were followed by a mid-day meal, after which he was allowed some time to contemplate and walk through the beautiful gardens to reflect, followed by two hours of seated meditation in the company of his fellow brethren. Shan had not even begun his day yet, however when, in the midst of his prayerful ritual, he was interrupted by the outline of a somber figure standing only a few feet away from him in the shadows. Shan was so lost in thought at the time that he failed to recognize the figure. Or that it was non other than Zhang Li, one of the highest ranking members of the Imperial Council. The look of displeasure on the official’s face told Ying Shan all he needed to know. Obviously there was some new trouble brewing which Shan had not been aware of. He hated these meetings with the dour faced looking Zhang Li who criticized people at random and felt himself superior to any member of the household staff. This included of course Ying Shan.

      Around this time the household cook would usually prepare a type of yoghurt mixed with fresh fruit for the monks, a breakfast meal Shan looked forward to each morning. Today obviously that was not to be and to cap it off Shan was feeling an odd mixture of hunger, apprehension and confusion. What was one of the heads of the Imperial Guard doing in an area of the palace he would have rarely frequented? A man Shan particularly disliked.  What the hell did he want anyway? Shan clenched his teeth in preparation for what he assumed would be some sort of confrontation, he hated many of these barbaric bastards. Today seemed like things would go no differently, then the mood suddenly changed and he found himself escorted down a hallway, flanked by an escort of four palace guards with non other than Zhang li striding ahead, leading the odd procession.

     What started to unnerve Ying Shan was that he noticed the escort was headed down a long corridor toward the emperor’s throne room. This was not the usual method used by the Emperor to summon him. In general, if the Emperor wished to communicate with Shan, a note was handed to a high ranking official and kept top secret until it reached the elderly eunuch, to insure privacy and security. This new routine was highly unusual and it was beginning to make Ying Shan somewhat nervous. Was he being let go? Punished? Or something worse. He racked his brain but could find nothing he might have said or done in the short term to cause any kind of anger or suspicion.

     As Zhang Li approached the throne room, two concubines opened the ornately carved entrance doors from either side. Seated in the center of an elaborately gilded throne sat the Emperor, clad in, what was for him, a fairly shabby looking robe, beckoning Ying Shan into the throne room with two fingers of his left hand. The Empress and her attendants, sensing the private nature of this meeting made a hasty retreat behind another set of double doors. Ying Shan proceeded ten steps past his escort, got down on one knee and bowed his head. At which point the Emperor ordered all of the remaining attendants out of the room. Four guards stood barring the doors shutting the throne room at both ends.

     The Emperor, only in his twenties at the time, motioned Ying Shan to sit in one of the overstuffed red velour chairs in a corner of the room. Shan’s mouth almost dropped to the floor but he caught his own facial expression just in time. No one, and I mean no one, at any time was invited to sit in the presence of a Forbidden City Emperor, including many visiting dignitaries. To even murmur it was treason. The Emperor then proceeded to pour himself a glass of dark golden liquor from a crystal carafe into a beautifully shaped goblet, upturning another one and looking over at Shan indicating whether or not he would like to join him. Shan respectfully bowed and held up the palm of his hand with a slight wave. He had never been a drinker, nor was he about to start, even in the presence of an Emperor. It was also outlawed by his religion, a fact the Emperor seemed to be surprisingly unaware of.

      The Emperor smiled in admiration at Shan’s display of willpower and taking a large quaffe of the liquor, seated himself once more with a huge sigh as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. His smile broadened into a grin. “You are the first person, man or woman, who has refused a drink from me.” The emperor noted with amusement. “I hope your majesty will take no offence,” Ying Shan replied, as humbly as he could manage. “But despite the many pleasures that can be derived from Western alcohol, I prefer to remain clear headed. When the mind is clear, it suffers no unwanted intrusions or entanglements.” Shan replied, gingerly trying to distance the tone in his voice from that of a lecturer. Shan contemplated saying nothing at first but being a man of considerable education in his day, often found himself straddling that peculiarly thin line.     

     “I’ve noticed that you are not inclined to imbibe…” The Emperor replied. “..and some other strengths as well.” Ying Shan braced himself. This could have been good news or the worst news possible. Often his words had a tendency to sound haughty and might have landed him in some sort of trouble. Shan squirmed nervously in his chair as he was not familiar with either the amazing array of comforts nor the opulent surroundings. Both dazzled him, but he managed to retain his composure and the evenness of his speech. Believing that his words had been sitting well with the Emperor, Shan continued to speak in that same vein but was abruptly cut off with a wag of the Imperial Majesty’s finger. “We have more relevant matters to discuss.”  He said dismissively. “Majes’…” Shan began but was curtly interrupted, since the sublime ruler had not yet finished. Shan bowed and held his tongue. “One of my most treasured Concubines is having an affair, and we both know who we are talking about.” He said, turning his head fiercely and glaring at Shan. “The Countess Bai Jan.” They said almost in unison.

     After a pause that felt endless, Shan made a timid attempt to reinitiate the conversation. “Before we get into this again..” He began trepidly but was once again cut off by the Emperor. His Royal Majesty continued. “I am also extremely concerned for both her and the daughter as they seem have fallen in love with the same man. His Royal Majesty continued as if talking to himself, waving his arms about agitatedly and carrying on as if he was no longer aware that Ying Shan was in the room.

     This was more than a little frightening to Shan. He’d never seen the emperor exhibit this kind of behavior in front of anyone before, let alone some lowly priest. His hands were sweating but he was determined to avoid any exhibition of nervousness before the emperor’s dramatic gaze and tortured wrath. Almost as soon as the storm began, it subsided as softly as the onset of a gentle rain. “Will you not have a drink with me Shan?” The emperor was asking him again in a tone that sounded almost like a plea. Shan shook his head bowing once more while seated. “Perhaps a glass of tea.” Shan once again refused continuing to bow, then sat ramrod straight on a couch multilayered with satin pillows for comfort. What did the man want? Thought Shan irritably, this overly clad royal merchant, pacing to a fro across the room from one side to the other, dressed head to toe in gold satin with servants and concubines at his feet, ready to serve his every whim?

      “What you are saying sir describes idle palace chatter, gossip of no importance among people who have little to do during the day but make up stories in hopes of causing another some grief. “This type of thing usually passes in a week or so and should cause no trouble to your highness.” Shan said quietly. “Don’t be too sure.” Grunted the emperor. “Weren’t these the same people who stirred up all those priests and caused them to stage a revolt?” “That was only alleged your majesty.” Replied Shan gently, “Besides, the people said to have stirred up the monks had no contact with the woman nor could they have even had occasion to meet or speak to her as she keeps to herself, surrounded by her ladies in waiting, and is rarely seen in public. “Majesty,” Shan paused, “what does this matter have to do with…” “Bah!” Yelled the emperor, interrupting him yet again. Suddenly his royal majesty’s voice lowered until it became barely a whisper.

     Shan, who’s hearing was as sharp as that of a young doe had to strain to hear him. “I sleep with one eye open these days.” The emperor muttered softly. The countess Bai Jian’s sleeping quarters were a mere few doors down the hallway from his as was carefully arranged. “Even the courtiers no not whether I am asleep or awake. And they know everything, that gossiping lot.” He finished with a hint of irritability. “I have grown accustomed to recognizing the sound of her bare feet on the carpet and the glimpse of her kimono as she makes her way downstairs at three in the morning. I look at myself in the mirror after she’s left…” He said despondently  “.…and my candle shows a face awash in tears.”

      Ying Shan having been appointed master of the Royal Harem some years prior knew all about the Countess Bai Jian’s proclivities. Telling the emperor that she would likely become unfaithful to him from time to time and that his majesty’s dreary moods might seem imprudent. He bit his lip and kept his mouth shut. The emperor sat down heavily upon his royal seat looking more forlorn than Shan had ever seen him. “The doctors can only offer potions that are supposed to help my sleep and tell me that I am afflicted with some kind of love sickness that can only cure itself with the passage of time. However, the potions don’t work and I feel myself coming apart in pieces as if soon there may be nothing left.”

     “Calm yourself majesty, I have rarely seen you look healthier, besides worry and anxiety will only weaken you and not be of any service; you are obviously deeply in love with this woman, does she know the depth of your feeling for her as opposed to the other concubines?”  “….Have you consulted with the oracle Xiu Li?” Shan ventured carefully. “One question at a time my venerable compatriot.” Replied the Emperor, pouring himself another liberal glass of brandy. Besides, you, a eunuch, what do you know of women.” “More than your majesty might suspect.” came the confidant reply from Shan. At this they both laughed. Through howls of laughter the emperor cried, “Here I am trying to catch one and here you are trying to be one. Ha ha ha ha!” Shan laughed along good naturedly, wishing he was far away as possible from the emperor and his gilded surroundings. Even so, the good tea, graciousness of the servants and the fake smiles from the courtiers gave Shan immense satisfaction as they so often sneered at him. “I will answer your last question first,” the emperor announced. “Xiu Li is a whore and a charlatan, besides that, she is too old and has long ago lost all her powers of second sight. The answer to your second question is yes. The concubines all know but manage to carry on as if they didn’t. I feel terribly guilty for my actions, but the truth is I think of no one else besides Bai Jian day and night.”