Bathhouse

Passing through another palace gate and enduring yet another search upon entering the imperial grounds, the group was led by the Golden Guards into a small courtyard. Within, there was a side hall, temporarily borrowed by the Ministry of Personnel, where a bathing facility had been set up. This so-called bathing facility was not a bathhouse, but rather a provisional place where officials could tidy up their attire before audience.

These decorated generals returning from the northwestern front had been summoned to the palace banquet immediately upon dismounting, all covered in dust and grime. It would have been unsettling not to clean up. Moreover, many newly appointed officials did not yet possess official robes, arriving in worn military uniforms, which was hardly proper for such a ceremony.

The Ministry had been meticulous, borrowing the storage hall from the Palace Servants’ Bureau days in advance and working tirelessly to prepare. By the time of the feast honoring their service, the facility was ready. Had they not planned ahead, this influx of officers would have caused utter chaos upon entering the palace.

To the left in the courtyard, six tables had been arranged in a row, each attended by three clerks. Eighteen men, led by a supervising officer, were responsible for distributing official robes and insignia to the newly appointed officials.

Once robed and equipped with their insignia, these new nobles of the Tang lined up, entering the side hall to bathe and change.

Inside, sixteen large vats stood in a row, filled with steaming water. Beside them were three low tables: the first piled high with thick linen towels, the second holding a bamboo basket filled with soap sticks for scrubbing, and the third bearing a pottery jar of liquid soap.

Bathers first received a cloth bag from the clerks at the entrance, removed their old garments, placed them in the bag, and wrote their names or, if illiterate, marked a recognizable symbol on a slip of paper. After sealing the bag and affixing the slip, the clerks handed it to a custodian.

Time was tight; each person's washing was limited to half a cup of tea's duration. When finished, a right-side clerk led them to a corner of the hall, where eunuchs assisted with dressing and grooming.

Refreshed and groomed, the officials exited to a temporary reed-mat pavilion by the west wall, gathering around a few tables to drink tea. For every twenty, two eunuchs escorted them to the banquet hall.

Though a hundred men came and went, order was impeccable.

Li Xi nodded approvingly. This truly bore the hallmarks of the Tang imperial palace; the earlier chaos was but an illusion. The discipline and organization among Tang officials was indeed commendable.

Having received his official robe, Li Xi hummed as he entered the side hall, quickly bathing, shampooing, brushing his teeth with green salt, and finishing in five minutes. Carrying his fresh robe, he strode through the steam toward two grooming eunuchs.

Eunuchs—so these were the legendary eunuchs! Li Xi felt an inexplicable excitement.

The Sunflower Manual, the Art of Absorbing Power, the Soft Bone Palm, Liu Xi, Hai Da Fu, Cao Shaoqin...

Names of famed figures in this profession flashed through his mind.

"This way, Your Excellency," said a round-faced young eunuch in a low voice, bowing deeply like a river shrimp.

He looked barely thirteen or fourteen, still more child than man. His companion, slightly older, had delicate features and a gentle smile, giving an impression of docility.

"Oh, thank you, gentlemen," Li Xi replied, quickly collecting himself.

The two eunuchs exchanged glances, bowing even lower.

The long-faced eunuch softly replied, "You flatter us, sir."

His voice was as faint as a mosquito’s hum, and his demeanor even more reverent.

Li Xi felt a pang of emotion. In the late Tang, eunuchs rose in power, meddling in politics; later generations cursed them, blaming them for everything, branding these rootless men as villains.

Over time, late Tang eunuchs became synonymous with cunning, greed, and cruelty. Li Xi himself had held such views, often lambasting them with fervor.

Yet now, facing two living eunuchs, those prejudices dissipated. Eunuchs were still human, not monsters devoid of humanity. Moreover, these two in front of him seemed perfectly pleasant—discreet, sensible, courteous.

What impeccable service! They were shorter than him, and even while grooming his hair, bent low so as not to pull. No matter how tiring, wouldn’t pulling his hair hurt?

“Ouch!” Li Xi cried unintentionally, reaching up to find a lock of hair between his fingers.

The grooming eunuch was so frightened he dropped to the floor, butt raised, not daring to lift his head. The other, pale-faced, hurriedly set down Li Xi’s robe and knelt beside his companion.

A flurry of gazes turned their way.

"Please, rise," Li Xi said, helping them up naturally, without any hidden motive. Imagine a barber accidentally pulling a few hairs and falling to the floor to apologize—would you kick him, feign anger, and leave without paying?

He helped them up, but both began to weep, their faces streaked with tears.

"It was just a lock of hair..." Li Xi looked at the two young eunuchs, feeling a pang of pity. Children of this age, in another era, would still be in middle school, pampered by grandparents and doted on by their families.

Looking at these two, Li Xi sighed, his mind flashing to the ruthless Grand Supervisor Cao Shaoqin of the Eastern Depot, and Hai Da Fu, who killed with the Soft Bone Palm. His heart tightened.

"Ahem." Li Xi flicked the lock of hair, letting it float in the air. Smiling, he pressed their shoulders and whispered, "It’s just a hair, not a head. If you keep crying, you really might lose your heads."

"Sigh." The long-faced eunuch recovered first, giving Li Xi a grateful look and wiping his tears with his sleeve. He called to his companion, Qiu’er, urging him to stop lingering. "Your Excellency’s kindness is immense; we’ll repay it someday. For now, let’s finish our work."

"Sigh." The round-faced eunuch understood, quickly standing up. The two resumed their tasks around Li Xi.

"Ahem," Li Xi was about to ask the round-faced eunuch, Qiu’er, if his full name was Qiu Shiliang, when suddenly a commotion sounded from outside the hall. A child’s clear voice rang out:

"Chop! Chop! Chop! No one is allowed to kneel! Anyone who kneels, I’ll chop off their head! Do you hear me? Qiu Shiliang, are you dead? Stop them—don’t let anyone kneel!"

"Qiu Shiliang!" Li Xi’s heart jolted—at last, the legendary figure of the late Tang eunuch world had arrived.

Qiu Shiliang had indeed appeared, though not at all in grand fashion. On the contrary, he was quite disheveled, a grass rope tied around his neck, its other end held by a child of six or seven.

The boy was dressed in yellow, crowned with gold, and his imperious manner made clear he was a prince.

As for the future powerhouse Qiu Shiliang, he was in a sorry state: his hat askew, his robe covered in small footprints—clearly the work of the prince. His eyes had been circled with black ink, and his nose painted completely white, giving him the appearance of a cartoon panda.

"Pfft..." Li Xi couldn’t help but laugh—not just from amusement, but because a suppressed sneeze had become unbearable.

"You..." The little prince suddenly pointed at Li Xi. "You were the one laughing, weren’t you?"

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