Shi Xuedong showed an intense interest in Hu Xiaotian's romantic exploits. He had once given Hu Xiaotian a picture depicting the buying of sex, an erotic painting, and a large bottle of Three-Whip Pills. He wondered how many establishments Hu Xiaotian had visited on his journey to Western Sichuan. Although his motives in giving Hu Xiaotian those things had been deeply sinister-he had wished nothing more than for the fellow to stray down the wrong path, ****, or contract a whole host of venereal diseases-the two had long since smiled away their grudges. They had become grasshoppers tied to the same string, brothers sharing hardship together. More than once, Shi Xuedong had asked, "Brother, tell me, how many virgins have you had?" Hu Xiaotian simply ignored him.
Deep in his bones, Shi Xuedong possessed the peculiar persistence of a spoiled young aristocrat. Sometimes he changed the subject of that question to singing girls, dancing girls, brothel girls, respectable married women, mature women, or widows. In short, he listed every sort he could think of, and the conversation never strayed from women. Hu Xiaotian responded with indifference, and Shi Xuedong grew accustomed to talking to himself. Gradually, however, as the male hormone levels in his body declined, even he began to find it dull. Although he still talked about women, he had clearly lost his former animation. Little by little, his interest in women faded, and his voice grew shriller by the day.
Before they knew it, they had been in the palace for a month. Autumn had arrived, adding another task to the eunuchs' work at the Cattle and Sheep Office: they had to get up before dawn every day to sweep the fallen leaves from the courtyard. As usual, Hu Xiaotian did not need to rise early. None of