[H] Who Says the Eunuch Can't Attack - Chapter 1

Inside the fragrant bedroom, the half-aged Consort Wan, with her ample and perky breasts bare under a sheer veil and clad only in a loose pair of pomegranate-red underpants, reclines on the bed. She watches with eagerness the intertwining men on the bed, her excitement gradually moistening. She beckons to her obedient maid, who delicately holds a small jade dildo, crawls on her knees to the front of the consort, lifts her legs, and slowly inserts it into the moistened slit made accessible by her parted underpants. Consort Wan hums in satisfaction, dismisses the servant, and leisurely moves to the side of the bed with the jade still inside her. She embraces the decadent, prematurely aged man, feeds him her breast, and pleads, “Your Majesty, give Zhen’er a child. With a child, Zhen’er can nurse you once more.”

The Emperor, gripping the breast before him, tightens his rear on the servant diligently serving him from behind, holds his own hanging member and aligns it at the entrance of Wan Zhen’er’s orifice. In a dazed state, he feels as though he’s back to the days when he was helpless and protected in Wan Zhen’er’s embrace. Compassionately, Wan Zhen’er pulls out the jade, guides the Emperor’s flesh into her, presses his head between her breasts, and soothes him, “Zhen’er is here, I will always be with you.” The head eunuch, Wang Zhi, accustomed to such sights, grips the Emperor’s waist and supports his testicles, quickening the pace, stimulating the sensitive gland within the Emperor’s rear. The Emperor, luxuriously serviced from both ends, carelessly spills his precious seed within Wan Zhen’er.

Wang Zhi, still connected, carries the Emperor away from the bed, while Wan Zhen’er, enviously watching the duo resembling conjoined twins, tightens herself, grabs a jade pillow to prop under her, and refuses to let the seed spill, anxiously watching the door. A lady-in-waiting leads a beardless young man inside. Without waiting for his salutations, Wan Zhen’er summons him forth. The maid skillfully disrobes the young man, and alternately with her hands arouses his only remaining fair and robust flesh to fullness. The young man climbs onto the bed, supports his firm member, and thrusts into the orifice filled with the Emperor’s essence, apologizing to Wan Zhen’er as he firmly nudges the opaque fluid deeper, robustly pushing the seed into the womb before stopping, sealing the exit himself, increasing the likelihood of pregnancy for the power-driven Consort Wan.

Meanwhile, the Emperor enjoys a new round of pleasure, turning his head to kiss his beloved Wang Zhi, pulls the maid’s hair to force her service upon him, while the rich aroma of mock orange flowers mingles with the persistent stench of corruption, sullying the air in the most honored imperial palace, where one debauched scene after another unfolds.

In the evening, after the final meal, Wang Zhi coaxes the Emperor to eat some food, then carries him to the inner room for rest. Consort Wan personally inserts a silver plug to prevent any escape of the imperial essence, forcibly keeps the young man for a meal, and after teasing him to flushed embarrassment, lets him go and calmly returns to bed for a peaceful sleep.

The personal maid bows slightly to the young man, respectfully saying, “Thank you for your hard work today, Supervisor Yang. I will see you out.”

Yang Qing, expressionless, nods and follows the maid out of the luxurious imperial garden, bidding farewell and heading straight for the palace gate, stepping on a castrated slave’s back to mount his carriage. The loyal steward approaches Yang Qing to undo his cloak, reporting, “Master, Prince Qing went with some nobles to the Flower House brothel tonight; he probably won’t return to the mansion. Will you meet him there, or shall we wait at the mansion?”

Yang Qing, having soul-traveled from the most open era of the 22nd century, still cannot accept the absurdities of this world. Here, he was the only son of a lord, but after the empress dowager’s death and the new emperor’s ascension, he was dragged into the inner court, castrated, and made a eunuch incapable of producing heirs. Before the emperor’s ascension, he and Prince Qing had secretly pledged themselves to each other, thinking to live a carefree life. However, after the empress dowager’s death, he fell victim to the new emperor’s schemes. Despite his unusually large and gifted manhood, which led to his induction into the inner court and a lowly managerial position after being drugged to maintain his size and stamina, he serviced Consort Wan daily.

Yang Qing is not a kind-hearted man; knowing the emperor’s immaturity and his devotion to Wang Zhi and Consort Wan, he harbored other intentions. On one hand, he pretended to be indifferent while serving Wan Zhen’er; on the other, he had submitted his credentials to Wang Zhi. Within half a year, he secured a supervisor position, redeemed his ancestral home, and bought a small residence near Prince Qing’s mansion, hoping to rekindle their old love. However, Prince Qing refused to see him, mocking him as an impotent eunuch, still frequenting brothels with nobles.

Yang Qing clenches his fists, his phoenix eyes sharply observing the steward, and commands, “Go to Flower House. There have been recent reports of unrest among the scholars there; I must investigate thoroughly.”

The group rushes to Flower House, flashes the East Factory’s badge, confirms the scholar’s room, and bursts in to apprehend him. Yang Qing instructs his subordinates and steps into Prince Qing’s private room, pulling aside the bed curtains to find Prince Qing amused, only to discover Flower House’s unique situation—unlike most brothels, it housed only female prostitutes, yet Prince Qing couldn’t interact properly with them. At this moment, disheveled, he clumsily toys with a copper dildo while fumbling with a diminutive member against a prostitute’s relaxed orifice, clueless about penetration. Yang Qing, removing his belt violently, strips down, pulls out the copper dildo from Prince Qing, and thrusts into the gaping orifice, holding the prostitute’s abdomen and grabbing Prince Qing’s chin in anger, saying, “If the prince doesn’t know how to enjoy a prostitute, let this servant teach you properly. This is where you enter, and she will sing all night like a warbler.”

As he speaks, he thrusts vigorously into Prince Qing, bringing him to tears with pleasure, completely losing his sanity.

“Ah, you damned eunuch, ah, let go of me, ah, die, ah, die, eunuch, ah!”

Although Yang Qing has accepted his status as a eunuch, he can’t bear hearing his once-beloved mention it; his actions become rougher, grasping Prince Qing’s flesh at the orifice, coldly responding, “Although I am a eunuch, I can still please you better than any prostitute can. Can the prince make her squirt like this?”

Prince Qing feels the sticky sensation below, recalls the scenes of eunuchs and palace maids he has seen, and immediately feels nauseous, unable to endure, he vomits all the food and drink on the prostitute, who stands stunned, covered in filth. Before she can react, Yang Qing has already lifted Prince Qing, wrapped him in a cloak, carefully dressed himself, leaving a bag of gold leaves for the prostitute, apologizing, “Today the prince was rude to the young lady. This bag of gold is offered as an apology; please don’t blame her.”

After saying this, he carries the naked Prince Qing wrapped only in a cloak back to the carriage, leisurely heading to the small residence. As the carriage jostles Prince Qing back to his senses, he begins to struggle again. Yang Qing, thoroughly annoyed, reaches for Prince Qing’s diminutive member, threatening, “If you continue to fuss, I will castrate you too, and make you a eunuch like me.” Prince Qing finally quiets down.

After cleaning up Prince Qing, who reeked of sourness, Yang Qing presses him onto the bed, kisses him, but Prince Qing again harbors perverse thoughts, glancing involuntarily below Yang Qing. Naturally, Yang Qing understands Prince Qing’s intentions, lifts the blanket, spreads his legs, and gestures invitingly, saying, “Take a look.”

Prince Qing, grinning, crawls between Yang Qing’s legs, lifting the robust member, rubbing the pink scar beneath it.

“The emperor only took my testicles, but I can still get erect, though I can’t impregnate a woman. But it also gives me other advantages. Would Prince Qing like to know?”

Although Prince Qing is not a thinker, he vaguely senses it’s not something good. Now that his old lover has risen to power as the supervisor of the East Factory, he fears he can only behave submissively in front of him in the future.

Yang Qing strokes Prince Qing’s head, sighs, flips Prince Qing onto the bed, and penetrates the cleaned orifice, massaging his prostate with a familiar frequency, patiently waiting for Prince Qing to release a thin fluid before kissing the dazed Prince Qing, stroking his flesh, and ejaculating his own clear fluid onto Prince Qing’s thighs.

After a night’s rest, watching the still sleeping Prince Qing, Yang Qing dresses with a light heart and heads straight to the East Factory prison. The arrested scholars, cowering like quails in the cell, don’t require much torture before they begin to accuse each other. Yang Qing snorts coldly, picks out a few defiant scholars, has them half beaten to death, signs the confessions, releases the others, and turns to enter the palace to report to the emperor.

The emperor, awakened early by Wang Zhi, is carried into the grand hall for the morning court. Hearing that the scholars have gathered to curse his inept and corrupt rule, he erupts in anger, harshly sentencing the leaders to immediate execution, then heads back to catch up on sleep.

Jinyiwei officer Xie Yao presents a separate memorial, stating that scholar Shen Zi’an of the Taihu Shen family is known for his humility and caution, possibly framed by others. He also mentions that Shen Zi’an had scolded Yang Qing’s servant last month for being overbearing, subtly implying that Yang Qing, now a court eunuch, is a disgrace. Fearing that Yang Qing is abusing his power for personal vengeance, Xie Yao requests a fair investigation.

Yang Qing, maintaining a composed facade, glares at Xie Yao, leans close to the emperor, and coquettishly shows a plain piece of paper, whining, “Your Majesty, please spare this servant from death on account of the Empress Dowager. It’s your grace that has allowed this servant, who was nothing but a lowly face from childhood, to survive. Now that you have also restored my father’s noble title, how could I be angered by a few reckless words from that boy? Since childhood, I have promised to serve my cousin for life, and now that I have the opportunity, how could I act recklessly? But Shen Zi’an really is dishonest, communicating with friends and even cursing Consort Wan. Cousin, look at this—‘a mule matched with the Wan family’s donkey’—isn’t this insulting Consort Wan?”

The emperor, holding Yang Qing, fondles him on the buttocks, reads Shen Zi’an’s verses, and suddenly grows furious, exclaiming, “What a mule! Whom I favor, whom I love—what does it have to do with him? Does he also want to be like the previous Grand Tutor? To dictate whom I sleep with and what I eat!”

Xie Yao and other attendants quickly kneel, while Yang Qing hugs the emperor’s back, gently patting and soothing him, advising, “Cousin, why bother with this scholar? Since he’s merely a scholar, punishing him is sufficient.”

The emperor calms down, slaps the desk, and declares, “Right! Punish him! Chop off his head!”

Yang Qing, whispering into the emperor’s ear, guides him, “Your Majesty, rashly executing a scholar might not sit well with the old officials of the previous dynasty. Why not strip him of his titles and hand him over to the East Factory for interrogation? Since he loves to compare himself to mules, let’s thoroughly geld him, making him like those mules, unable to reproduce. What do you think, cousin?”

The emperor finally satisfied, doesn’t wait for Xie Yao’s rebuttal, takes the seal, and signs the order to demote Shen Zi’an.

Xie Yao, helpless, retires, still showing disdain for Yang Qing.

The emperor, having dealt with the few official matters, pulls Yang Qing back to the bedroom, indicating for him to help change his clothes. Yang Qing obediently helps the emperor out of his robe, looking up with a shallow smile at the emperor.

The emperor, holding the young face that resembles his own mother by five parts, finally reveals his intentions.

“You really look like her, just like that woman. I didn’t want to execute you, but Zhen’er likes you. Do you hate me?”

Yang Qing, bolder, stands up in front of the emperor, strips off his clothes, grabs the emperor’s hand to touch the scarred area on his groin, and softly says, “Cousin, it hurts, it really hurts.”

The emperor, feeling the smooth, scarred area, pulls Yang Qing into his arms, presses him onto the dragon bed, grips Yang Qing’s neck, and commands, “Qing’er, accompany me this time. What do you want, I will give you everything, but remember, you must never harm Zhen’er. She is my foster mother; you must serve her well! Show her filial piety!”

Yang Qing, staring blankly at the emperor, internally scoffs at the twisted mother-son duo who castrated him for their pleasure, thinking of them as two sick perverts.

Seeing Yang Qing’s obedient behavior, the emperor sits beside him, pulling Yang Qing’s head down to lick his royal root, waiting for it to erect before parting Yang Qing’s legs, firmly thrusting inside, kissing Yang Qing, moving in small motions for a moment before letting go and gasping for air. Yang Qing, feeling unbearable swelling and pain below, is about to plead for mercy when Wang Zhi returns from his duties, roughly strips off his clothes, presses behind the emperor, and starts moving with the emperor. The emperor releases inside Yang Qing in less than a moment, his soft flesh slipping out, but directly orders Yang Qing to block it up. Yang Qing grabs a handkerchief, rolls it up, and stuffs it into his rear, wraps up in outer clothing, and rushes to Consort Wan’s bedroom as instructed by Wang Zhi and the emperor, spitting out the limited amount of royal essence in his intestines onto a silver spoon, carefully pouring it into Wan Zhen’er’s orifice, and also into the womb, serving Wan Zhen’er until she releases, then washes up and returns to the residence of Lord Anzhong.

After handling his immediate tasks, stepping into the bedroom to see the naked Xie Yao, Yang Qing sheds the stern supervisor’s mask, softly calling out to his lover,

Xie Yao, swinging the ties at the bed’s edge, pulls Yang Qing closer, tenderly stroking his robust member, asking, “The Shen Zi’an who insulted you is also to become a eunuch now. Are you pleased, my lord?”

“Not yet punished, but on the day he is, I will personally attend the execution to see what color that boy turns,” Yang Qing murmurs.

Xie Yao rolls his eyes, lowers his head to take the member in his mouth a few times, then looks up again, full of expectation, while Yang Qing, unreservedly, reaches from the bedside to pull out a white jade ball gag, stuffing it into Xie Yao’s mouth, and takes a red silk ribbon to tie up his testicles and member together at the base. He then takes out fragrant oil, meticulously applies it to the orifice below, directly making the pink flesh glisten with slickness, then picks up a thin pheasant feather, flicking his wrist, strikes the sensitive flesh below, causing Xie Yao to moan and twitch his muscles, showing no resistance, instead turning even redder, his member standing erect.

Yang Qing thoroughly spanks Xie Yao’s orifice, then reaches into the fruit bowl for a melon, dips it in the oil bowl, aligns it with the orifice, and thrusts it inside, causing Xie Yao to widen his eyes, whimpering with resistance from the painful stretch, the silver drool soaking the pillow, but Yang Qing, uncaring, pushes almost the entire melon into Xie Yao, allowing him a brief rest before mercilessly stuffing it all in, cruelly pushing a finger into the melon.

Xie Yao, both pleasured and pained, even though tied with a silk ribbon, still manages to ejaculate a thick essence towards the canopy.

Yang Qing removes Xie Yao’s gag, places his member in his mouth, and after a while, releases under his skilled oral work. Xie Yao, satisfied, swallows Yang Qing’s clear, seedless fluid, looking up while pressing his lower body to expel the melon,

“The dog emperor today, ah, hmm, what did he want with you, ah, ah?”

“That old thing, he finally made his move against me, even telling me that it was Wan Zhen’er, that bitch, who originally wanted me castrated.”

“Ah, then, hmm, ah, do you, ah, want to kill, hmm, that bitch?”

Yang Qing holds back the melon already half expelled, pushes it back in, kisses Xie Yao and says, “Be good, let’s do it again, gege isn’t in a hurry to deal with that bitch.”