The Plum in the Golden Vase or, Chin P'ing Mei

by Roy, David Tod

  “How did you feel after drinking them?” Abbot Jen asked.

  “Since drinking them down,” said Ch’en Ching-chi, “for what seems like half a day, I have felt;

  Neither dead nor alive,

  just as though I were drunk.”

  On hearing this explanation, Abbot Jen and his two disciples laughed to themselves, saying, “He turns out to be straightforward after all.”

  Consequently, Abbot Jen put up the money to buy an ordination certificate for him, so that from then on, as an ordained Taoist monk, he was free to do as he pleased. Truly:

  You may peddle a load of truths for three days

  without making a sale;

  While in a single day three loads of falsehoods

  may actually sell out.

  As a result, Ch’en Ching-chi frequently took money in hand and went out to enjoy himself on the dock.

  While there, he ran into a “cribber” from the licensed quarter named Ch’en the Third, who told him, “The madam of Feng Chin-pao’s establishment has died, and she has been sold to the Cheng Family Brothel, where she is known as Cheng Chin-pao. At present she is doing business in a large tavern on the dock. Why don’t you go take a look at her?”

  As for the young scamp:

  His old feelings for her had not changed.

  Taking some silver in hand, he allowed Ch’en the Third to conduct him straight to the tavern. Nothing might have happened if he had not gone there, but since he did go, it was a case of:

  Five hundred years ago, these lovers

  were fated to meet;

  After their affair of the past, they

  are to be reunited.

  There is a poem that testifies to this:

  In this life one must not begrudge

  raiment of golden threads;

  In this life one should not betray

  the years of one’s youth.34

  If you see flowers you would like to

  pluck, just pluck them;

  Don’t wait till the flowers fall to

  pluck the bare branches.35

  It so happens that this tavern was the most prominent tavern in Lin-ch’ing and was called the Hsieh Family Tavern. It had more than a hundred rooms and was surrounded with green balustrades. It backed on a hill, overlooked the Grand Canal, and was known for:

  The liveliness of the teeming crowds, and

  The coming and going of boat traffic.

  What did this magnificent tavern look like?

  Sculpted eaves reflect the sunlight;

  Painted rafters fly into the clouds.

  Green balustrades connect beneath

  the balcony windows;

  Kingfisher blinds are rolled high

  above the casements.

  Those blowing pipes and playing flutes,

  Are all noble scions or royal princelings;

  Those holding cups and raising beakers,36

  Are bands of courtesans and dancing girls.37

  Barely visible to drunken eyes,

  Soaring into azure Heaven, are ten thousand

  mountainous clouds;38

  Stimulating to poetic thoughts,

  Like tumbling drifts of snow, are the waves

  of mist-bound water.

  By the white duckweed crossing,39

  One hears trawlers sounding their clappers;

  By the red smartweed beachhead,40

  One hears fishermen beating their bulwarks.

  By the tavern side, on the verdant willows,

  the wild birds are crowing;

  Before the gate, amidst the green poplars,

  piebald steeds are tethered.41

  Ch’en the Third led Ch’en Ching-chi to an upper floor of the tavern, and into a room, furnished with an ebony table and red lacquered benches, where they sat down together. He then summoned a waiter to wipe off the table, supply cups and chopsticks, and lay out a serving of first-class wine and delicacies, after which he sent him downstairs to summon the powdered face for him. Before long, they heard footsteps on the stairs, and Feng Chin-pao came in, holding a little gong in her hand. Upon seeing Ch’en Ching-chi, she paid him a respectful obeisance.

  As the saying goes:

  When one lover meets another,

  Before they know it, all of a sudden, they will

  shed two streams of tears.42

  Truly:

  The sounds of a few amorous words are like

  warbling orioles;

  Tears drop like a strand of pearls falling

  off their string.43

  Ch’en Ching-chi no sooner caught sight of her than he pulled her aside to sit down with him and asked, “Sister, where have you been all this time since I saw you last?”

  Feng Chin-pao dried her tears and said, “After I was released from the district yamen, it was not long before my mother, having suffered from shock, fell ill and died. I was subsequently sold into Auntie Cheng the Fifth’s establishment as a powdered face. In recent days, however, patrons have been few, and I have been forced to go out onto the Lin-ch’ing dock to seek for customers among the drinkers in the tavern. The other day, I learned from Ch’en the Third that you had come here and opened a money-changing shop. I have been wanting to see you but did not anticipate that you would turn up for a drink in the tavern today, so that I would be able to run into you. I have been longing to death for you.”

  So saying, she started to weep all over again.

  Ch’en Ching-chi pulled a handkerchief out of his sleeve and proceeded to wipe away her tears with it, saying, “My sister, you can stop worrying. I am all right again. After emerging from that lawsuit, and losing all my property, I have sought refuge in the Yen-kung Temple, where I have taken orders as a Taoist monk. My master Abbot Jen has entrusted me with major responsibilities, and I will be able to come see you frequently in the future.”

  He then went on to ask, “Where are you residing now?”

  “I am living just west of the bridge here,” responded Feng Chin-pao, “in the place called My Own Tavern operated by Liu the Second. It has over a hundred rooms, and unlicensed prostitutes and singing girls from all over, including the licensed quarter, reside there. During the day, they come out to frequent the various taverns in search of business.”

  As they talked, the two of them moved closer to each other as they continued drinking. Ch’en the Third went to heat more wine and then came back upstairs with a balloon guitar in hand. Feng Chin-pao then proceeded to play her musical instrument and sing a song to the tune “The Whole Realm Rejoices” in order to entertain Ch’en Ching-chi as he drank his wine.

  Tears fall in two streams;

  Two streams of tears fall.

  Three cups of parting wine;44

  Parting wine in three cups.

  The male and female phoenixes are disunited;

  Disunited are the male and female phoenixes.

  Behind the mountain ridge the setting sun

  is gradually sinking;

  Gradually sinking behind the mountain ridge

  is the setting sun.

  The sky is growing dim and the earth dark.45

  Dillydallying, they are reluctant to part;

  Reluctant to part, they are dillydallying.46

  When the two of them began to feel the effects of the wine, they could not help taking a small room and:

  Doffing their clothes for the game of clouds and rain.

  Ch’en Ching-chi had not had access to a woman recently and had thirsted for such an opportunity for some time. On reencountering Feng Chin-pao, he:

  Exhausted himself to please her;

  Addicted to the clouds and rain,

  He was reluctant to call a halt.

  Behold:

  One of them stirs his jade arms into motion;

  The other gently wriggles her willowy waist.

  His pair of pupils spouts fire;47

  Her starry eyes look dissolute.

  One of them, his chest soaked with sweat,

&nbs
p; Strives mightily to win two or three bouts.

  One of them, emitting cosmetic fragrance,

  Moans with satisfaction thousands of times.

  The engagement is protracted,

  As the “divine turtle” penetrates deeply

  it is harder than ever;

  As the conflict is prolonged,

  The gush of his “silvery stream” spurts

  well into her interior.

  Although he had often challenged singing

  girls in furious battles,

  None of them had ever risen to the level

  of this one’s intensity.

  It was not long before their engagement was over, and they put their clothes back on. Ch’en Ching-chi saw that it was getting late and took his leave of Feng Chin-pao, after rewarding her with a tael of silver, and giving Ch’en the Third three hundred copper cash.

  As he was leaving, he said to Feng Chin-pao, “Sister, I plan to come and see you as often as possible, and we might as well meet here in the future. If you should hanker after me, just send Ch’en the Third to summon me.”

  So saying, he went downstairs and paid Hsieh the Third, the manager of the tavern, three candareens of silver for the wine they had consumed, after which he returned to the temple. Feng Chin-pao accompanied him as far as the bridge before coming back. Truly:

  People may wear out their eyes in

  the desire for money;

  Or ravage their faces with tears

  for the sake of lucre.

  If you want to know the outcome of these events,

  Pray consult the story related in the following chapter.

  Chapter 94

  LIU THE SECOND DRUNKENLY BEATS CH’EN CHING-CHI;

  SUN HSÜEH-O BECOMES A TROLLOP IN MY OWN TAVERN

  When flowers bloom they do not disdain

  the plots of the poor;

  The moon shines on mountains and rivers

  so that all are bright.

  In this world the heart of man alone

  remains vile;

  In all things demanding that Heaven

  show him favor.

  The foolish, the deaf, and the dumb

  everywhere prosper;

  While the clever and the intelligent

  suffer in poverty.

  The year, month, day, and hour of birth

  determine it all;

  However calculated, events are controlled

  by fate rather than man.1

  THE STORY GOES that, from the time that Ch’en the Third led Ch’en Ching-chi to the Hsieh Family Tavern where he met with Feng Chin-pao, the two of them resumed their former affair. From then on, no three days passed by without their getting together. If Ch’en Ching-chi happened to be tied up at the temple and failed to show up, Feng Chin-pao would send Ch’en the Third to deliver a gift, or a love letter, and request that he come, and he would reward her with five mace or a tael of silver. Later on, he also undertook to supply her with fuel and rice, and to pay her rent. When he returned to the temple, his face was often red. When Abbot Jen asked him where he had been drinking, Ch’en Ching-chi would tell him that he had been enjoying three cups of wine with the manager of the rice shop, in order to reward him for his labors. His fellow disciple Chin Tsung-ming would also cover up for him and continued, needless to say, to have his fun with him in the evenings. As the mornings and evenings succeeded one another, he managed to pilfer nearly half of the assets in Abbot Jen’s strongbox without his being aware of it.

  One day, it was one of those occasions when:

  Something was destined to happen.

  Liu the Second, the proprietor of My Own Tavern, who was known as the Turf-protecting Tiger, was the brother-in-law of Chang Sheng, a trusted servant in the household of Commandant Chou Hsiu of the Regional Military Command. He specialized in operating brothels on the Lin-ch’ing dock:

  Relying on his power to oppress the weak,2

  and acting as a loan shark. He would lend money to the singing girls in the brothels at thirty percent interest, and if they failed to pay up when due, he would renegotiate the contract, adding the unpaid interest to the original amount of the loan, and charging interest on the interest. He was:

  Given to drinking to excess and becoming violent,

  so people did not dare to cross him. He was:

  A foreman among the beaters of trollops;

  A leader among the abusers of drunkards.3

  Upon seeing that Ch’en Ching-chi, though still a white-faced youngster, was a disciple of Abbot Jen of the Yen-kung Temple and was maintaining the powdered face Cheng Chin-pao as his mistress in Hsieh the Third’s tavern, he drank himself into a stupor, proceeded to clench his bowl-shaped fists, and headed for the Hsieh Family Tavern, demanding to know the whereabouts of Cheng Chin-pao.

  This threw Hsieh the Third into such consternation that he bowed hastily in response and said, “Uncle Liu the Second, she is residing in room number two on the second floor.”

  Liu the Second then proceeded, with giant strides, to ascend the steps. Ch’en Ching-chi and Cheng Chin-pao were in the room at the time, drinking together, and enjoying each others’ company. They had closed the door to the room and left the blind hanging outside.

  Liu the Second tore down the blind with his hands and called out in a loud voice, demanding that Cheng Chin-pao should come out. This flustered Ch’en Ching-chi to such an extent that he was barely able to breathe through his nostrils.

  Liu the Second then kicked open the door with his foot, and Cheng Chin-pao felt compelled to come outside, saying, “Uncle Liu the Second, what have you got to say to me?”

  “You lousy whore!” said Liu the Second, “you owe me three month’s rent and have been hiding out here in order to avoid me.”

  “Uncle Liu the Second,” responded Cheng Chin-pao with an ingratiating smile, “you can go home, and I will have my procuress, Auntie Cheng the fifth, deliver the rent to you.”

  But Liu the Second proceeded to strike her a blow in the chest with his fist, knocking her to the floor, and banging her head on the steps until:

  The flow of blood inundated the ground,

  saying, “You lousy whore! I will not wait to have it delivered to me but am demanding to have it right now.”

  In the Lofty Tavern Liu the Second Wreaks Havoc

  Seeing that Ch’en Ching-chi was in the room, he strode inside and overturned the table, smashing the dishes to smithereens.

  “Ai-ya!” exclaimed Ch’en Ching-chi. “Who are you to come in and wreak havoc in this way?”

  “Fuck you, you ‘sweetie’4 of a Taoist priest,” cursed Liu the Second, whereupon, he proceeded to grab him by the hair and hold him down while he:

  Struck him with his fists and kicked him with his feet,

  innumerable times. The other customers on the upper floor of the tavern were stupefied by what they saw.

  The owner of the tavern, Hsieh the Third, on observing that Liu the Second was drunk, did not initially dare to interfere, but when he realized that he was beating someone until he was scarcely recognizable, he came upstairs and endeavored to intervene, saying, “Uncle Liu the Second, venerable sir, pray abate your wrath. He is unfamiliar with your reputation and has offended you by mistake. You would do well to make allowances for him and let him go, for my sake.”

  Liu the Second paid no attention to him but continued to beat Ch’en Ching-chi with all his strength until he had:

  Rendered him senseless to the nth degree.5

  He then summoned the local constable and the head of the relevant mutual security unit and had them arrest Ch’en Ching-chi and the powdered face, truss them up together with a single length of rope, and lock them up for the night, instructing them to escort them to the yamen of the Regional Military Command early the next morning.

  It so happens that Commandant Chou Hsiu had been ordered by imperial edict to protect his territory, apprehend thieves and bandits, and oversee the canals and waterways in his jurisdictio
n.

  Meanwhile, the fact that Ch’en Ching-chi had been arrested was still unknown to Abbot Jen in the Yen-kung Temple, who thought that he was probably staying overnight in the rice shop, having chosen not to return.

  To resume our story, the next day, the local constable, the head of the relevant mutual security unit, and the couriers who patrolled the Grand Canal took charge of Ch’en Ching-chi and Cheng Chin-pao, hired donkeys for them to ride on, and set out early in the morning to escort them to the yamen of the Regional Military Command. Upon arriving there, they showed the relevant documents to the head servants Chang Sheng and Li An and explained that the culprits had been in a brawl with Uncle Liu the Second, and that one of them was a Taoist priest from the Yen-kung Temple named Ch’en Ching-chi, and the other a singing girl named Cheng Chin-pao.

  The soldiers on duty demanded money of them, saying, “We are the corps of twelve personnel who are responsible for administering punishments and are prepared to accept whatever you choose to give us, but you cannot afford to regard the two head servants lightly.”

  “I did have money on my person,” responded Ch’en Ching-chi, “but last night while Liu the Second was beating me, someone made off with it. The clothes I was wearing have all been torn to tatters, so where could I conceal any money? All I’ve got now is the silver hairpin that holds my topknot in place. I’ll pull it out, and you can present it to the two head servants.”

  The jailers took the hairpin and showed it to Chang Sheng and Li An, saying, thus and so, “He could not come up with so much as a candareen but merely presented us with this silver-plated pin.”

  “Call him to come here so I can interrogate him,” said Chang Sheng.

  In no time at all, the soldiers hustled him inside and made him kneel down before him.

  “What disciple of Abbot Jen are you?” asked Chang Sheng.

  “I am his third disciple,” responded Ch’en Ching-chi.