The fat eunuch’s mouth bled, his left hand clutched his chest, and as he struggled to rise, he pointed a trembling finger at Ding Wei and cursed.
"You base slave! You wretched, castrated thing! You’re dead..."
*Base slave? Castrated thing? And "wretched"?*
The more he heard, the angrier he became. He could have tolerated the first two insults, but calling him a "wretched thing" who would have no offspring was a death wish. His eyes blazed with fury; he balled his fists and lunged forward, charging toward them with heavy, thudding footsteps.
"Stop!" A sharp, piercing voice rang out. An elderly eunuch with a face full of indignation approached at a fast, mincing pace, shouting sternly.
The three eunuchs on the ground immediately stopped playing dead and scrambled to their feet.
"Eunuch Jiang!"
"What is going on here?"
"This base slave, Little Ding, attacked us!" The three of them bowed their heads, shoulders slumped and faces twisted in misery, complaining in unison.
"Daring to strike men of the Shangfang Bureau—this is utter lawlessness! Get on your knees!" Eunuch Jiang roared at Ding Wei, his fury boiling over.
In his previous life, if he had encountered such thugs—men who relied on borrowed power to bully others without regard for the truth—he would have silenced them with his fists long ago. But here, under someone else’s roof, he had no choice but to bow his head.
"They attacked me first," Ding Wei explained. "I was only forced to defend myself."
Eunuch Jiang felt his dignity had been utterly trampled. His face flushed a deep red as he pointed a finger at Ding Wei and bellowed, "You base slave! You dare talk back? Get on your knees!"
*Kneel to your ancestors, you ball-less old freak,* Ding Wei thought. *Keep nagging, and see if I don't beat you to a pulp right along with them. The worst that can happen is I lose this palace job, you old bastard, you snake.*
Ding Wei’s chest heaved. He kept his fists tightly clenched, his heart burning with rage. He stood silent, his eyes fixed on them in stubborn defiance.
"Insubordination! Pure insubordination! Someone come here, drag him away and behead him!"
"Eunuch Jiang, why all this talk of beheading?"
The voice was familiar.
Ding Wei turned his head in the direction of the sound. He saw Qiu Yao, the Empress’s personal maid, approaching with several other palace maids, a bright smile on her face.
"Sister Qiu Yao," Eunuch Jiang—that old snake—seeing a favorite of the Empress, had no choice but to hunch his back and lower his head, offering a respectful title to a woman young enough to be his daughter. "This base slave has beaten some of our men."
Ding Wei quickly explained, "They struck me first. I was forced to fight back."
Qiu Yao scanned the disheveled appearance of the three men from the Shangfang Bureau and rested her hand on her whip with a faint smile. "Three of you couldn't even handle one?"
The eunuchs from the Shangfang Bureau exchanged glances, then awkwardly lowered their heads in silence.
Qiu Yao stopped smiling, her expression darkening as she raised her voice an octave. "Speak. Why are you trying to behead him?"
The eunuchs looked at one another until, finally, the short, fat eunuch stepped forward to argue. "He cheated! He caused the Emperor to flip Noble Consort Zheng's tablet for three nights in a row!"
"Is that so? How would you know? Are you the head of the Directorate of Imperial Banquets?"
"This... this..." The short, fat eunuch looked toward Eunuch Jiang for help, but Eunuch Jiang wouldn't even glance his way.
"This what? Why aren't you on your knees slapping yourselves?" Qiu Yao glared at the short, fat eunuch and barked the command.
Just as the eunuch hesitated, still hoping for a save from Eunuch Jiang, the maids accompanying Qiu Yao prepared to step forward to carry out the punishment. The fat eunuch panicked, dropping to his knees with a *thud* and began slapping his own face rhythmically, left and right.
"Eunuch Jiang, I'm waiting for your answer."
Eunuch Jiang put on a fawning smile. "Sister Qiu Yao, this... this is just what some of the other consorts told me."
"You want to beat and behead people without a shred of evidence? Is this the fine work you do at the Shangfang Bureau?"
"Sister Qiu Yao, I have failed to manage things properly. I beg you for mercy." Eunuch Jiang was now as pale as a sheet. He had thought he was picking on a soft persimmon to curry favor with other consorts and vent their frustrations, never imagining this "soft persimmon" was actually a hard nut that would alarm the Empress’s inner circle. If the Empress started digging into old scandals, it would be a disaster.
"Get on your knees and slap yourself!" Qiu Yao commanded, her face expressionless.
Eunuch Jiang watched the fat eunuch, whose mouth and nose were bleeding and whose cheeks were already swollen like a frog’s from the self-inflicted blows. Under Qiu Yao’s piercing glare, he collapsed to his knees with a *thud* and began viciously slapping his own face.
*An old snake is always an old snake,* Ding Wei thought. *You can tell by the sheer force of the slaps that he’s far more practiced at this than the other eunuchs.*
When the two of them were slapping each other like they were in a competition, their heads spinning and faces swollen into grotesque, pig-like masks, Qiu Yao commanded, "Someone, drag these men from the Shangfang Bureau away and give them fifty strokes of the rod each. If there is a next time, I’ll have their heads."
"Thank you, Sister Qiu Yao!"
"Thank you, Sister Qiu Yao!"
...Being beaten and having to offer thanks—it was as if they were begging for the punishment, Ding Wei marveled. Having a powerful backer really made all the difference.
"Thank you..." Ding Wei also wanted to address her as "Sister," just like the others, but the words wouldn't come out.
"You did nothing wrong; there is no need to thank me." She paused. "Oh, right. The Empress is feeling unwell. I’ll come for you later to provide a massage."
"But... but I'm supposed to be on Consort-carrying duty!" Ding Wei said, looking a bit slow.
Qiu Yao rolled her eyes at him with irritation. "Is the Empress’s health more important, or is carrying a consort?"
"Well, this... of course, the Empress’s health is more important."
"Glad you know. Don't worry about the Consort duty; it will be arranged."
...
In the Weiyang Palace, the Empress’s sleeping quarters, the Empress asked Qiu Yao, who had just returned to report. "Well?"
"Your Majesty, I arrived a step too late..." Qiu Yao lowered her head, blinking her eyes.
"Ah! Was he beheaded?" The Empress’s heart tightened, her composure slipping. She muttered to herself, "What a pity. All that effort to investigate, and he’s gone. How wretched... to have come all the way to the Xia Dynasty for this." She then gnashed her teeth, "Those who kill the innocent—I will have them all executed."
The two sighs from the Empress caused Qiu Yao, who was stifling a laugh, to burst into a giggle.
"You! You dare tease your sister? See if I don't deal with you!" The Empress realized she had been tricked. A smile bloomed on her face as she raised her hand, pretending to strike Qiu Yao.
"Oh! Why are you in such a rush? I hadn't finished speaking yet."
"Are you saying I'm not as good as a eunuch?" Qiu Yao teased playfully. She and the Empress were like sisters, so she knew her temperament well.
"You are stronger than a eunuch, of course, but there is so much manual labor in the palace—I just hate to see you doing it."
"But I’ve done plenty of manual labor, haven't I?"
"Yes, yes, you have. But whenever I’m exhausted and ask you for a massage, have you ever once done it patiently?" The Empress threw a sidelong glance at her, complaining.
Qiu Yao pouted, mimicking the Empress’s tone. "Yes, yes. In your eyes, I can’t do anything right."
"Heh heh heh, you’ve been protecting me by my side all this time; haven't you done that perfectly well?"
"Quick, tell me, how did it go? If he wasn't beheaded, was he beaten into a pulp?" the Empress asked, looking visibly anxious.
Qiu Yao glanced at her. "Yes, the men from the Shangfang Bureau took their rods to him."
"Was he hurt badly? Any broken bones?" The Empress was anxious, having finally found a suitable candidate; her usual regal air had vanished, replaced by the instinct to protect something she had claimed as her own.