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

by Roy, David Tod

  Sun Erh-niang said, “Mistress, since you have told her what to do, she will go and have Sun Hsüeh-o make it for you. When you hanker after some particular dish, it will be as good as medicine for you.”

  Lan-hua did not dare to be remiss but went straight to the kitchen and said to Sun Hsüeh-o, “The mistress has ordered you to make some soup flavored with chicken wing tips for her. Hurry up and do it. She is waiting to have it.”

  Sun Hsüeh-o thereupon proceeded to:

  Wash her hands and trim her nails,

  after which, she killed two little chickens, plucked them clean, removed their wing tips, and cut them into slivers with a sharp knife. She then mixed in pepper, minced scallions, coriander, marinated bamboo shoots, oil, soy sauce, and the like, in order to make a clear broth, with which she filled two bowls, and placed them, while still steaming hot, on a red lacquer tray, for Lan-hua to take back to the master suite.

  After looking them over by the light of a lamp, Ch’un-mei swallowed a mouthful but immediately cried out in an angry voice, “Go ask that whore of a slave what kind of soup she thinks she has made? It is as clear and flavorless as water and has no taste at all. You all may have been trying to get me to eat something, but all you are doing is making me angry, for no good reason.”

  This had the effect of causing Lan-hua to fear a beating, and she promptly returned to the kitchen, where she told Sun Hsüeh-o, “The mistress objects to the tastelessness of the soup and is ranting abusively about it.”

  Sun Hsüeh-o did not say a word, but proceeded to:

  Swallow her anger and keep her own counsel,

  as she put the pot back on the stove, made another bowl of soup, to which she added additional pepper, making it redolently fragrant, and gave it to Lan-hua to take back to the master suite. Ch’un-mei once again objected that it was too salty, and picking up the bowl she threw the soup onto the floor. Luckily, Lan-hua was quick enough to dodge out of the way, or it would have splashed all over her.

  Ch’un-mei said irately, “You go and tell that slave that I know she is annoyed at having to cook for me, but if she doesn’t do any better this time, she will have to answer for it.”

  When Sun Hsüeh-o heard this:

  Though she never, ever, should have done it,

  she mumbled out loud, “Sister, since when did you become so high and mighty as to impose on other people this way?”

  She did not anticipate that Lan-hua, upon returning to the master suite, would repeat this remark of hers to Ch’un-mei.

  If Ch’un-mei had not heard this, nothing might have happened; but having heard it, she immediately:

  Pricked up her willow brows,

  Opened wide her starry eyes, and

  Ground her silver teeth to smithereens,

  As her powdered face turned bright red.

  “Go drag that whore of a slave in here for me,” she shouted.

  In no time at all, three or four wet nurses and maidservants succeeded in dragging Sun Hsüeh-o into the room.

  Ch’un-mei, in a rage, grabbed hold of her by the hair, tore off her headdress, and cursed her, saying, “You whore of a slave! How can you ask how I became so high and mighty? It was not the household of Hsi-men Ch’ing that elevated me to this status. I bought you in order to serve me, and you have been unhappy to do so. You were told to make me some soup, but what you produced was either too tasteless, or overly salty. Yet you have the nerve to ask in front of a maidservant when I became so high and mighty as to impose on other people. What further use do I have for the likes of you?”

  She then sent for the commandant and had him force Sun Hsüeh-o to kneel in the courtyard, after which, she summoned Chang Sheng and Li An from the front compound and ordered them to strip off her clothing, and give her thirty strokes with the heavy bamboo. The servants, accordingly, lined up to either side and lit brightly shining lanterns, while Chang Sheng and Li An stood by with their heavy bamboos in hand.

  When Sun Hsüeh-o objected to taking off her clothes, the commandant, who was afraid of angering Ch’un-mei, did not venture to intervene, but Sun Erh-niang, who was standing to one side, pled with Ch’un-mei, saying, “Mistress, order her to be beaten as many strokes as you like, but spare her the humiliation of having her underclothes removed. If she is stripped completely naked in front of the servants, it will not redound to His Honor’s credit. I pray you, Mistress, to:

  Lift high your gracious hand,

  though it is true that she is at fault.”

  But Ch’un-mei refused this request and adamantly insisted that she be stripped naked to be beaten, saying, “If anyone should try to stop me, I will first dash my child to death, and then hang myself with a length of rope, leaving her behind in my place.”

  Thereupon, without ordering the beating to proceed, she threw herself to the ground, where she lay in a faint, stretched out at full length:

  Oblivious to human affairs.

  The commandant, in a state of panic, hastily lifted her up, saying, “Go ahead and beat her however you want. Don’t get so upset over it.”

  Thereupon, the pitiable Sun Hsüeh-o was:

  Forcibly turned over on the ground,12

  stripped of her clothing, and subjected to thirty strokes with the heavy bamboo. She was beaten until:

  The skin was broken and the flesh was split.

  Ch’un-mei then dispatched a young jailer to summon Auntie Hsüeh in the middle of the night and instructed her to take Sun Hsüeh-o off empty-handed and offer her for sale.

  Taking Auntie Hsüeh aside, she said to her, “I want no more than eight taels of silver for her. Take this whore of a slave away, and do your best to sell her into a house of prostitution. I don’t care how much money you make on the transaction, but if you dispose of her anywhere else, and I hear about it, I won’t have anything more to do with you.”

  “Who else do I depend on for my livelihood?” said Auntie Hsüeh. “I can hardly refuse to do as you say.”

  That very night she took Sun Hsüeh-o home with her, where she continued to weep pitifully:

  In sorrow and distress,

  until the day dawned.

  “There’s no point in crying any more,” Auntie Hsüeh urged her. It’s just your bad fortune to have ended up in the hands of your enemy. His Honor is not ill-disposed toward you, but unluckily your old enemy, harboring her old resentment, is out to hurt you, and His Honor feels that:

  The situation is out of his control.

  Since she has borne him a son, he feels obliged to accommodate her every wish. Even his secondary consort Sun Erh-niang feels that she must give way to her. As the saying goes:

  Even a worker who pilfers the rice will sometimes

  rise to become head of the granary.

  There is nothing more to be said about it. You should swallow your resentment and stop crying.”

  Sun Hsüeh-o dried her tears and thanked Auntie Hsüeh, saying, “I only hope that sooner or later you can find a good customer for me, who will be able to support me.”

  “She ordered me repeatedly,” responded Auntie Hsüeh, “to sell you into a house of prostitution. But I feel that:

  Those who raise sons and raise daughters,

  Should be governed by Heavenly principle.

  I will endeavor either to find a monogamous match for you, so there will be but:

  One husband and a single wife;

  or marry you to a merchant with limited capital, who will be able to support you.”

  Sun Hsüeh-o thanked Auntie Hsüeh for this with:

  A thousand thanks and ten thousand

  expressions of good will.

  Two days later, Old Mother Chang, the proprietress of an inn next door to Auntie Hsüeh’s residence, came over to see her and asked, “What woman are you harboring in your place that cries so piteously?”

  Auntie Hsüeh invited her inside and said, “This is the lady in question. She comes from a prominent household but was unable to get along with her mistress and
has been driven out and turned over to me to find her a husband. She is hoping for a monogamous match, involving but:

  One husband and a single wife,

  in order to avoid such rancorous conflicts in the future.”

  “There is a cotton merchant from Shantung lodging at my inn,” said Old Mother Chang. “His name is P’an the Fifth, he is thirty-six years old, has several cartloads of cotton wool to sell, and often stays at my place. The other day he told me that he has a mother who is more than seventy years old and is unwell, and that his wife died half a year ago, so that he has no one to look after her. He has repeatedly asked me to arrange a match for him, but I have been unable to find anyone suitable. It seems to me that this lady is about the same age and would make a good wife for him.”

  “I will not deceive you,” said Auntie Hsüeh, “but this lady comes from a prominent household and is adept at both rough and refined domestic work. As for needlework and suchlike feminine accomplishments, not to mention:

  Skill with cooking pots and stoves,13

  That naturally goes without saying.

  In addition to which, she makes excellent soups. At present, she is just thirty-four years old, and her owner is asking only thirty taels of silver for her, so she ought to be a good match for him.”

  “Does she have trunkloads of personal belongings?” asked Old Mother Chang.

  “She has only the clothing she is wearing and the hairpins and bracelets she has on,” replied Auntie Hsüeh. “She is without any other luggage.”

  “In that case,” said Old Mother Chang, “I will go back and tell him about her, and propose that he come over to see her for himself.”

  After concluding this discussion, and drinking her tea, she sat a little longer and then went home. That evening, she told her lodger about it.

  The next day, after breakfast, she actually did bring her lodger over to see for himself. When he saw that Sun Hsüeh-o was both attractive and young, he promptly offered to pay twenty-five taels of silver for her, and to give Auntie Hsüeh an additional tael of silver as her go-between’s fee. Auntie Hsüeh did not bother to bargain with him but proceeded to weigh the silver and write out a contract, allowing him to take her away that very night, so they could leave the next morning.

  Sun Hsüeh-o Becomes a Trollop in My Own Tavern

  After the transaction was concluded, Auntie Hsüeh had someone alter the wording of the contract, weighed out a mere eight taels of silver, and then had this amount delivered to Ch’un-mei in the commandant’s household, and report that she had sold her into a house of prostitution.

  P’an the Fifth took Sun Hsüeh-o back to Old Mother Chang’s place to spend the night, and during the fifth watch the next morning he thanked Old Mother Chang and took his leave of her, after which, the two of them got into a cart and headed straight for Lin-ch’ing. It was the sixth month at the time, so the days were long, and the sun had just begun to set when they arrived at the dock and made their way to My Own Tavern.

  This establishment had more than a hundred rooms, in which unlicensed prostitutes and singing girls from all over, including the licensed quarter, were housed. Sun Hsüeh-o was led into a half-sized chamber containing an earthen k’ang, on which there sat a fifty- or sixty-year-old woman. There was also a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl from the establishment waiting upon her, whose hair was done up in two curled knots on either side of her head, who was made up with white face powder and red lips, was garbed in soft damask clothing, and was standing by the k’ang strumming a balloon guitar.

  When Sun Hsüeh-o saw this, she gasped in distress, for she realized that this man P’an the Fifth must be a white slaver, who had bought her in order to make her into a powder-faced singing girl. She was renamed Yü-erh and, like the other young girl, whose name was Chin-erh, was expected to make her living by taking a little gong with her every day, and frequenting the taverns on the dock in order to attract customers, and sing to them.

  No sooner did she enter the door than P’an the Fifth:

  Without discussing the pros and cons of the matter,14

  proceeded to give her a beating, and restrict her to her bed for two days, while giving her only two bowls of rice to eat. She was then given instruction in how to play musical instruments and sing, and when she was not up to the mark, she was beaten again, until her body was covered with red and blue bruises. Only after she began to get the hang of it was she given fine clothing, properly made up, and made to stand by the gate:

  Leaning upon the door with a smile,15 and

  Provoking attention with her brows.

  Truly:

  If one’s real work had ever found favor in the eyes

  of one’s contemporaries;

  One would not have had to spend money on rouge

  in order to paint portraits.16

  There is a poem that testifies to this:

  In straitened circumstances one has no place

  to run and no place to flee;

  No matter whether one goes south or comes north17

  it will all be to no avail.18

  On this night where have the varicolored clouds

  ended up being scattered to?

  One’s dreams follow the path of the bright moon

  as it sinks above the brothel.19

  While Sun Hsüeh-o was working in My Own Tavern, it just so happened, one day, that:

  As providence would have it,

  Commandant Chou Hsiu sent Chang Sheng to the canal port of Lin Ch’ing to purchase ten piculs of distiller’s yeast, with which to brew homemade wine. When the proprietor of My Own Tavern, the Turf-protecting Tiger Liu the Second, saw that his brother-in-law Chang Sheng had come to pay him a visit, he immediately had one of his best rooms swept clean and furnished with wine and delicacies, table utensils, seasonal fruits of various kinds, vintage wine, and fresh fish for the occasion, and invited Chang Sheng to come in for a drink.

  The wine steward who was in charge of the drinks knelt down in front of Liu the Second and inquired, “Uncle, which of the singing girls from downstairs should I invite up to serve the drinks?”

  Liu the Second responded by saying, “Have Old Sister Wang, Chao Chiao-erh, and P’an the Fifth’s two girls, Chin-erh and Yü-erh, the four of them, come up to wait on Brother-in-law Chang.”

  The wine steward assented and made his way downstairs. It was not long before they heard the sound of laughter coming from the stairwell as the four singing girls, made up as flowerlike beauties, and dressed in outfits of light silk and soft damask, came up the stairs and proceeded:

  Like sprigs of blossoms swaying in the breeze;

  Sending the pendants of their embroidered sashes flying,

  to kowtow four times before the guest, and then stand to one side.

  When Chang Sheng opened his eyes wide and took a good look at them, he thought to himself, “One of these powdered faces:

  Strange as it may seem,

  looks just like that Sun Hsüeh-o who used to work in His Honor’s kitchen until the young mistress drove her away. How did she ever end up here, engaged in this line of work?”

  Sun Hsüeh-o, also, upon surveying the scene, recognized Chang Sheng but chose not to say anything.

  Chang Sheng then inquired of Liu the Second, “Where do these powdered faces come from?”

  “Brother-in-law,” said Liu the Second, “there is no reason for me to deceive you. These two, who work for P’an the Fifth, are named Yü-erh and Chin-erh. This one is called Old Sister Wang, and the other is called Chao Chiao-erh.”

  “I recognize Old Sister Wang,” said Chang Sheng, “and this Yü-erh from the P’an establishment also looks familiar to me.”

  He then called Yü-erh over to him and whispered to her, “Are you not Sun Hsüeh-o from His Honor’s residence? How did you happen to end up here?”

  No sooner did Sun Hsüeh-o hear his question than she began to:

  Shed two streams of tears,

  and said:


  “It’s a long story.”

  She then proceeded, thus and so, to explain what had happened, saying, “I was tricked by Auntie Hsüeh, who sold me for twenty-five taels of silver, only to end up here:

  Entertaining at parties and endeavoring to sing:

  Engaging customers and catering to their wishes.”

  Chang Sheng had noticed how attractive she was in the past and felt himself drawn to her, while Sun Hsüeh-o did her best to cater to him as she served the drinks, and the conversation between them started to warm up. Sun Hsüeh-o and Chin-erh then took up their balloon guitars and proceeded to sing a song for Chang Sheng as he drank his wine, to the tune “Four Pieces of Gold”:

  In my last incarnation, I imagine,

  I must have owed him a love debt due

  in this life;

  For he has abandoned me along the way,

  So that our lover’s knot cannot be tied.

  To speak of it floods my cheeks with tears;

  When depressed, my sorrow is as deep as the sea.

  As for our myriad oaths of fidelity,

  What has become of them now?

  You wretched scoundrel!

  How can you ignore the love I have lavished

  upon you all this time?20

  After the song was finished, the two of them, what with:

  The raising of glasses and passing of cups,

  Hugging the turquoise and cuddling the red,

  continued to drink until they began to feel the effects of the wine. As the saying goes:

  Worldly wealth, painted faces, and wine

  in the sing-song houses;

  Who is there who is not deluded

  by these three things?21

  Chang Sheng became enamored of Sun Hsüeh-o, and the two of them spent the night together in a room at the tavern. Sun Hsüeh-o, employing her mastery of the arts of the bedchamber, and whispering oaths of fidelity into his ears, gave herself over to Chang Sheng.

  They exhausted themselves to please each other,

  Like fish sporting in the water,

  in ways that:

  Were too multifarious to describe in detail.