China: The Novel by Edward Rutherfurd

Author:Edward Rutherfurd [Rutherfurd, Edward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2021-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

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The next day, dusk had fallen when I reached the street the eunuch had told me about and asked for Mr. Chen the merchant. This hutong, as such streets are called, was on the western side of the Inner City, quite a respectable area where a lot of rich merchants and tradespeople lived.

Chen’s place looked like a typical merchant’s courtyard house—with a doorway up a few stone steps, by the southeast corner of the wall on the street.

I’d already learned how to tell somebody’s status in Beijing by the doorway of their house. Royalty and nobles had gateways flanked by stone lions—and you could tell their exact rank by the size of gate they were allowed. As a commoner, Mr. Chen’s doorway was far more modest. Instead of lions, he had a thick disc like a millstone on either side of the double doors, which were dark red. The heavy lintel above the doors, however, suggested his wealth was pretty solid.

A servant came to the doorway. I gave my name and said I’d come to see his master on private business. It took him only a few moments to return and usher me in.

I stepped carefully over the doorsill into the open passageway that ran across the house from right to left. In many houses, the blank wall in front of me would have been enough to stop evil spirits getting into the house, for everyone knows that spirits have difficulty turning corners. Some people have fierce gods painted on their doors as well, to scare off the bad spirits. But in Mr. Chen’s entrance, one had to pass between a pair of door-god statues, fully armed and looking as if they’d destroy anything, body or spirit, that dared enter without permission. They were so impressive, they almost belonged in a bigger mansion. I suppose he’d got a good deal on them.

But the message was clear enough. Mr. Chen showed a modest face to the world, but he’d kill you if you tried to hurt his family. I followed the servant, first left along the passageway, then right into the courtyard.

The first thing I noticed in the courtyard was the stone beneath my feet. Not a speck of dust. It must have been swept a dozen times a day. The wooden pillars and panels on the walls glowed in the soft light from the tasseled red lamps that hung around them. At the far end stood a pair of beautiful Ming vases with plants in them. Valuable. Then I was ushered into an office where the merchant awaited me.

Mr. Chen was sitting on a square-framed wooden armchair behind a carved rosewood table. He was dressed in a long grey silk gown, very simple, best quality, and wearing a black skullcap. I bowed low. He indicated I should take a chair on the other side of the table. I sat down. Then I stared in surprise.

Mr. Chen was the eunuch I’d met.

“You are Mr. Chen?” I asked stupidly.

“I am,” he acknowledged.

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