Is the Director General Groveling for His Highness Again? - Chapter 1

A popular saying echoed through the capital: “When a eunuch learns to sing, the nobles will hold him dear.”

The Prince Liang Manor was a hive of activity, with guests arriving and departing in a constant stream. Chefs and servants were frantic, though it was a pity their master was absent; only an old housekeeper stood watch at the gates.

Having just left the palace, the Third Highness did not return home. Instead, he headed straight for the Tingcui Garden. Although he had been granted the title of Prince, he held no real power. He spent his days listening to melodies, watching operas, drinking, and frequenting brothels, checking off every box in the lifestyle of a quintessential profligate.

Today was the birthday of the Third Highness, Qin Hechuan. After paying his respects in the palace, he had left immediately. His servant, Fuzhen, had already slipped him a message: Lord Director Xie was waiting for him at the Tingcui Garden.

When Xie Yu had sent Fuzhen to deliver the message, the young servant had been beaming. He knew his master well, if he failed to invite the Prince, he’d be in for a world of trouble back at the directorate.

Fortunately, Qin Hechuan found the prospect interesting. As they walked toward the garden, rumors swirled around them. Some whispered of Lord Director Xie’s “fox-like” attempts to curry favor, while others cursed him as a “shameless, pickled wretch.”

Qin Hechuan heard it all but didn’t care. He certainly had no intention of defending Xie Yu’s honor.

Upon entering the garden, a line of high-ranking eunuchs greeted him with plastered smiles, offering gifts. How much of this was sincere was anyone’s guess.

Behind the Scenes

In the backstage area, Xie Yu was busy applying his makeup. His operatic costume felt heavy and cumbersome. Peering through the curtain, he saw a crowd of people swarming around the Third Highness and began to grumble.

“These people aren’t usually this diligent. If the Second Highness hadn’t sent a gift to the Third this year, would these social climbers be so eager? They’re all just sycophants trying to steal the Prince’s favor from me. Are they even worthy?”

“Yes, yes, Master, please don’t be angry,” Fuzhen soothed, hurrying over to help Xie Yu with his headpiece, fearing his master might charge out and cling to the Prince in a fit of rage. “The Prince surely knows of your loyalty.”

“Hurry up with this headpiece! Don’t you see the Prince has arrived? Don’t keep him waiting. And make sure the outsiders serve him well, if His Highness is even slightly uncomfortable, I’ll have your heads.”

“Understood, understood!”

The room was a whirlwind of activity under the Director’s command, every servant working with their head bowed, terrified of becoming the target of his temper.

The Performance

Qin Hechuan sat in the guest of honor’s seat. Two eunuchs in ceremonial robes hovered over him, pouring wine with exaggerated fervor. He ignored them, his attention caught by the chatter nearby regarding Xie Yu.

“I heard the relationship between Lord Director Xie and the Third Highness is… unconventional. Every year on this birthday, the Director performs a song here. It seems the Third Highness truly refuses no one.”

“Indeed. How else could Xie Yu become the Chief Scribe of the Directorate of Ceremonial at such a young age? He’s even acting head of the Eastern Depot now. He’s at the height of his power; even the Third Highness probably wouldn’t dare refuse his invitation.”

Qin Hechuan simply smiled at the gossip. He was waiting for a specific guest who finally arrived, breathless.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” said Lin Wu’yan, Qin Hechuan’s close friend. “I just submitted my military reports and rushed here because your servant wouldn’t stop pestering me. What’s the big hurry?”

Qin Hechuan ignored the complaint and pushed a cup of hot tea toward him. “You’re a busy man, General. It’s rare for your return to the capital to coincide with my birthday. I had to bring you here to see the sights.”

“Watching an opera? You know I don’t understand this stuff,” Lin Wu’yan grumbled. As a general who spent his years guarding the borders, the high-pitched trills of opera held no appeal for him.

Qin Hechuan thought to himself: This isn’t just about the opera.

Within fifteen minutes, Lord Director Xie took the stage. His face was caked in white powder, and his long water-sleeves trailed across the floor.

“Your Highness, your humble servant Xie Yu pays his respects. To celebrate your birthday, I have specially prepared the song ‘Snow Upon the Breast.’ I hope it pleases you.”

Xie Yu stood on stage, hands folded, bowing slightly. He peeked up at his master with a flattering smile that stretched from ear to ear a total transformation from the swearing man backstage.

The audience watched like hungry wolves, their silent curses thick in the air. But the Director only felt they were jealous because they couldn’t “lick the Prince’s boots” like he could. He was quite smug.

The song title alone suggested it wasn’t exactly “high art.” Before Qin Hechuan could speak, Lin Wu’yan blurted out, “Lord Director Xie? Why is the Director himself here? And that outfit. Hey, how can you let the Lord Director sing opera for you?”

Though he lived on the borders, Lin knew that eunuchs held the reins of power in the court. Xie Yu was a formidable figure. Having seen him once before the Emperor, Lin wouldn’t have recognized him in this get-up if his name hadn’t been announced.

Xie Yu spared Lin a brief glance. Seeing the Prince remain silent, he replied coldly, “General Lin worries too much. It is my honor to perform for the Third Highness.”

“Uh. Then, maybe I should leave.” Lin Wu’yan, sensing he was de trop, began to fidget.

Xie Yu was about to say “don’t let the door hit you” when Qin Hechuan spoke.

“Since the Director is so inclined, let us hear it. Only, please sing a bit louder, Director it’s a crowded garden.” Qin Hechuan leaned back with a charming, provocative smile, making no move to let Lin Wu’yan leave.

“If it pleases Your Highness, I will sing anything,” Xie Yu replied, his eyes filled with simulated or perhaps real affection.

The Reward

The performance was a spectacle. Xie Yu poured his heart into every note and every sway of his hips, ignoring the whispers from the crowd about his “shamelessness” and “lithe waist.”

When the song ended, Xie Yu resumed his role as the attentive servant. He hurried to the Prince’s side, intercepting a servant named Lin Bai. He gave the boy a vicious glare behind the Prince’s back, forcing him to retreat, before personally pouring wine for Qin Hechuan.

Qin Hechuan looked at the man, weighed down by heavy jewelry, bowing low. A large swinging bead from the headpiece dangled before the Prince’s eyes. He reached out and plucked the bead.

He grabbed Xie Yu’s wrist, pulling him up, and drank the wine straight from Xie Yu’s hand. He then beckoned him closer. Xie Yu leaned in eagerly.

Qin Hechuan whispered into his ear: “The Director has such a fine voice. It is late; come sing upon my bed tonight.”

The words were soft, like a breeze, but they made Xie Yu shudder. A strange itch spread through his heart, and his ears turned crimson.

“Yes. I obey your command,” Xie Yu stammered. “But… since my song found favor with Your Highness, may I ask for a reward?”

He looked Qin Hechuan directly in the eye, his gaze bold and filled with longing.

“What reward do you want? We’ll talk about it properly  on the bed.”

Lin Wu’yan, sitting nearby, nearly choked on his tea, his eyes bulging in disbelief.

Moments later, after seeing the Prince’s carriage off with a smile, Xie Yu’s expression instantly turned cold. He signaled to Fuzhen, glancing toward those who had been gossiping.

“Clean it up,” Xie Yu said, removing his jewelry one piece by one. His voice was casual, yet he was sentencing people to death. “Don’t let a word of it reach the Prince’s ears.”

“Yes, Master. I understand.”

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