by Cao Xueqin
Grandmother Jia led the chorus in Xi-feng’s support.
‘You’re absolutely right, my dear.’
‘Give them back to me then,’ said Jia Lian grumpily. ‘Sir Zheng only sent me to show them to Grandmother as a possible palace-offering. No one said anything about buying them for ourselves. Trust you to pour cold water on the whole idea before Grandmother has even had a chance to speak!’
Jia Lian returned to the study with the curios, and reported that Grandmother Jia did not wish to buy them.
‘No one denies their quality,’ he said to Feng Zi-ying. ‘But we just can’t afford them. I’ll keep my eyes open though, and if I come across a likely buyer I’ll definitely let you know.’
Feng packed them away again, evidently disappointed. He sat and chatted for a while without much enthusiasm, and soon made motions of leaving.
‘Won’t you stay to dinner?’ asked Jia Zheng.
‘I have already taken up too much of your time…’
‘Not at all. We should be delighted.’
As they were speaking Jia She was announced. He was already in the room, and after greeting Feng engaged him in conversation for a few minutes. Presently wine was served and various delicacies were set on the table. After the fourth or fifth round of wine, the subject of the curios came up again.
‘Actually it’s rather hard to sell stuff like this,’ confessed Feng. ‘The market is restricted to the few illustrious families such as yours.’
‘Oh come, I am sure you will find someone,’ Jia Zheng consoled him.
‘Besides,’ observed Jia She in a rather maudlin tone, ‘we are not exactly the great and glorious house we once were, you know. Nothing but a hollow facade…’
‘How is Mr Zhen over at Ning-guo House by the way?’ asked Feng. ‘I saw him the other day and in the course of conversation he mentioned this new wife of his son’s. Not a patch on his first, so he was saying. Who is she anyway? I never did ask her name.’
‘She’s a Hu–they’re an old local family. Her father was once Taotai of the Metropolitan Circuit,’ Jia Zheng informed him.
‘Oh, I know Intendant Hu…’ said Feng. ‘Heard that he lets some pretty rum things go on in his house too. Still, the main thing is that the gal should have turned out all right.’
‘I heard from someone at the Grand Secretariat that Yu-cun is to be promoted again,’ put in Jia Lian.
‘Really? I’m glad to hear that,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘Has it been made official yet?’
‘Most probably,’ said Jia Lian.
‘Yes, I heard the same myself when I was at the Board of Civil Office earlier today,’ said Feng. ‘Am I right in thinking that he is a relation of yours, sir?’
‘He is,’ answered Jia Zheng.
‘A close one?’
‘It is a long story,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘He comes originally from Hu-zhou in Chekiang. He left home and was lodging in Soochow, eking out a rather unsatisfactory existence, when he was befriended by a gentleman named Zhen Shi-yin, who provided the means for him to better himself. Yu-cun later went on to become a palace graduate, and passed out with flying colours and an immediate posting as a magistrate in one of the provinces. He took one of this benefactor’s maidservants as his concubine; she is now, I believe, his principal wife. Old Zhen himself was reduced to destitution by a strange series of calamities, and finally disappeared without trace.’
‘We only came to know Yu-cun,’ continued Jia Zheng, ‘when my brother-in-law, Lin Ru-hai, who at that time was the Yangchow Salt Commissioner, engaged him as private tutor for his daughter – this was after his dismissal. Then Yu-cun learned of the general reinstatement for dismissed officials and planned to come up to the capital to take advantage of it. My niece – Ru-hai’s daughter – was, as it so happened, just about to come and visit us here, so her father persuaded her tutor to travel with her and act as her escort. He also sent me a letter of recommendation, asking me to put in a good word for him where I could. I formed a favourable impression of him, and from then on we saw a good deal of one another. One thing I remember finding most extraodinary about Yu-cun: he seemed to have familiarized himself with every detail of our family history. There was nothing he did not know. Who our ancestors were, how they won their titles, every ramification of the Rong-guo and Ning-guo family trees, exactly how many of us there are, who we all are, where we all live, what we all do – why, he was a mine of information! I liked him for it, I must say.’
Jia Zheng smiled, and went on:
‘He’s done extremely well for himself in the last few years too. Promoted from Prefect to Censor, then in a few years to Vice-president of the Board of Civil Office, then President of the Board of War. He was demoted three grades for some incident, but now it seems he is to be promoted again.’
‘How hard it is to predict the vicissitudes of human life,’ commented Feng Zi-ying.
‘And yet there is a pattern in all things,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘Take your pearl for instance. The big one is like a man blessed with fortune; the little ones are his dependants, sheltering in the shade of his influence. If the big one goes, then the little ones are helpless. If the head of a family is in trouble, his wife and children are taken from him, his relations are left destitute, even his friends he may see no more. Prosperity may crumble in the twinkling of an eye, like the passing of a spring cloud or the falling of an autumn leaf. What joy is there in public life? My kinsman Yu-cun has had a comparatively easy time of it. But take a case nearer home, the Zhen family, like our own in so many respects. They too were ennobled for their services to the Throne. Their style of life has always been very like ours. We used to see a great deal of them. I remember not many years ago when they were here in the capital, they sent one of their men round to convey their respects, and all seemed well. Yet not long afterwards their family estate was confiscated, and goodness alone knows what has become of them now. We have had no news of them for so long. My heart goes out to them.’
‘What’s this about a pearl?’ asked Jia She. Jia Zheng and Feng Zi-ying gave him a description of the ‘Mother Pearl’.
‘We need have no fears,’ said Jia She, resuming the previous topic of conversation. ‘Nothing can happen to us.’
‘Of course not, sir,’ said Feng, ‘with Her Grace to protect your interests at Court, with such enviable connections and such a host of relations, and with a family that from Lady Jia down to the younger generation has such an impeccable record…’
‘Granted,’ said Jia Zheng somewhat grimly. ‘But our respectability is more than balanced by our lack of ability and positive achievement. We are living on borrowed time, and one day it will run out.’
‘Do let’s put an end to this depressing conversation,’ said Jia She, ‘and have another drink.’
They did so, and after a few more rounds dinner was served. After dinner, tea was brought in and Feng’s page came in and murmured something in his master’s ear. Feng took his leave.
‘What was that you said?’ asked Jia She of the page.
‘It’s snowing, sir, and they’ve sounded the first evening watch.’
Jia Zheng sent a servant out who came back to report that the snow was indeed already more than an inch thick on the ground.
‘I hope your two curios are well wrapped?’ said Jia Zheng.
‘They are,’ replied Feng. ‘Don’t forget, if you change your minds, I’m sure we can come to some agreement about the price.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ said Jia Zheng.
‘I shall wait to hear from you then. It’s cold – please don’t bother to see me out. Goodbye.’
Jia She and Jia Zheng instructed Jia Lian to accompany Feng Zi-ying to the gate.
For the sequel, please read the following chapter.
Chapter 93
A Zhen retainer seeks shelter in the Jia household
And shady activities are revealed behind the Iron Threshold
When Feng Zi-ying had gone, Jia Zheng sent for one of the m
en on the gate.
‘I see there’s an invitation here from the Earl of Lin-an,’ he said. ‘Do you know what sort of an occasion it is?’
‘I did inquire, sir,’ replied the servant. ‘It’s only the arrival of a new company of actors at the Prince of Nan-an’s. They are said to be first-class, and his lordship wants to celebrate by putting on a dramatic entertainment for a couple of days. Just an informal party for friends, nothing requiring a presentation I should say, sir.’
As the servant was speaking Jia She came over.
‘Will you be going tomorrow?’ he asked his brother.
‘I really ought to,’ replied Jia Zheng. ‘The Earl has always been most affable.’
Another servant came in from the gate and reported to Jia Zheng:
‘There’s a clerk from the Ministry, sir; will you please go in to the office tomorrow. The President has some important business for you, so could you be there a little earlier than usual.’
This received a brief acknowledgement from Jia Zheng. Two family servants came in next, whose job it was to collect the land rents from the Rong-guo country estates. They paid their respects, made their kotow and stood humbly to one side.
‘Are you from Hao-family village?’ asked Jia Zheng.
‘Yes, sir.’
Jia Zheng did not inquire any further into their business. He and Jia She talked a little longer and then both left for their apartments, Jia She accompanied by servants bearing lanterns.
When they had gone, Jia Lian asked the rent-collectors for their report.
‘We’ve been as fast as we could with the tenth-month rents, sir,’ replied one of them. ‘They were due to arrive tomorrow, but we ran into trouble a few miles from town. Our wagons were seized by a patrol and everything was tipped out onto the ground. They didn’t let us get a word in. I tried to explain that it was rent-produce for Rong-guo House, not ordinary goods in transit, but they couldn’t have cared less. And when I told our wagoner to keep on going, some of the highway-patrol beat him up and impounded two wagons. I’ve come on ahead to report, sir. The only thing now is for you to send someone to the local yamen and demand our goods back. And you’d be doing everyone a good turn, if you had those hooligans in the highway-patrol brought to order. You may not know it, but the regular goods-wagons have an even worse time with them. They tip out the contents and make off with them, and if the poor old wagoner dares to open his mouth in protest, he has his brains beaten out.’
‘What a preposterous state of affairs!’ exclaimed Jia Lian. He wrote a note at once and handed it to one of his men.
‘Take this to the yamen responsible for impounding the wagons. We want our wagons and all our goods back at once. If we discover the smallest thing missing there’ll be trouble.’
He sent for Zhou Rui. Zhou was out, so he sent for Brightie instead, only to be informed that Brightie had gone out at midday and had still not returned.
‘The lazy bastards! They’re never here when they’re wanted! All they do from one year to the next is slack around at our expense!’
Shouting to his pages to find them both at once, Jia Lian retired to his apartment for the night.
*
Next morning brought a reminder from the Earl of Lin-an.
‘I shall be busy at the Ministry,’ said Jia Zheng to his brother. ‘And Lian will have to stay here to sort out this trouble with the rent-wagons. You had better take Bao-yu with you for the day.’
Jia She nodded.
‘Very well.’
Jia Zheng sent word to Bao-yu that he was to accompany his uncle to the Earl of Lin-an’s theatre party. Bao-yu was thrilled. He changed, and choosing three of his pages, Tealeaf, Sweeper and Ploughboy, to go with him, came out to pay his morning respects to Jia She. They climbed into their carriages and were soon at the Earl’s palace. A gateman went in to announce their arrival and returned after a brief interval to escort them in.
Jia She led Bao-yu into the main courtyard, which was packed with a noisy throng. They paid their respects to the Earl and exchanged civilities with the other guests before sitting down and joining in the flow of light-hearted conversation. Before long the manager of the troupe came forward with two playbills, an ordinary one and a fancy one in the form of an ivory tablet, and saluting his patrons by dropping one knee to the ground Manchu-style, announced:
‘Will the gentlemen please select their favourite plays?’
Passing along the distinguished company, he came to Jia She, who made his choice. Then catching sight of Bao-yu, he hurried straight towards him, saluted him most elegantly and said:
‘Will Master Bao be so good as to choose two from our list?’
Bao-yu studied his face. Those powder-white cheeks, those lips as red as rouge, that fresh lustre, like a lotus on the water, that lilting gait, like a jade tree swaying in the wind – why, it was his old friend Jiang Yu-han! Bao-yu remembered having heard of his arrival in town with his own troupe. He also remembered wondering why he had still not seen anything of him. Meeting him now in such formal company, he felt unable to rise spontaneously to his feet, and had to content himself with asking:
‘When did you arrive?’
Jiang glanced quickly from left to right, then with a confidential smile whispered:
‘Surely you knew I was here?’
Bao-yu felt too inhibited to continue the conversation, and made his choice of plays in some confusion.
When Jiang returned backstage, the guests started talking about him.
‘He used to play soubrette parts,’ volunteered one of them. ‘Now that he’s older, he’s given that up and turned manager. He manages the Prince’s resident troupe. Before that he’d already started playing young male leads. He made quite a lot of money, and bought two or three shops. But nothing could keep him from the stage, so he has turned actor-manager.’
Someone asked:
‘He must surely be married by now?’
‘Not yet,’ came the reply. ‘He has strong views on the subject. ‘Marriage,’ says he, “is a once-and-for-all thing, a lifetime affair, and not to be trifled with.” His bride may be rich or poor, of high or low birth, but the one thing she must possess is talent to match his. So, he’s remained single to this day.’
‘I wonder who the lucky girl will be,’ thought Bao-yu secretly to himself, ‘to marry such a fine fellow…’
By now the plays had started. They performed in a variety of styles; the lyrical kun-qu, the noisier gao-qiang and yi-qiang, and the ‘clapper’ style from Shensi to the west. It was a splendid show. At midday the tables were set out, and wine and food were served. After an act or two of the afternoon programme, Jia She showed signs of wanting to leave. But the Earl came over and pressed him to stay:
The day is still young,’ he said, ‘and I understand that Bijou intends to perform a scene from The Queen of the Flowers’, their pièce de résistance.’
When Bao-yu heard this, he secretly prayed for his uncle to stay. Jia She sat down again.
It was soon time for The Queen of the Flowers’, with Jiang Yu-han playing Master Qin, the humble oil-vendor. The scene in which he sits up with the drunken flower-girl Jasper Lute had just the right degree of erotic tenderness, while the drinking duet was exactly as it should be, amoroso delicioso. Bao-yu hardly noticed Jasper Lute. He only had eyes for Master Qin. That ringing vocal timbre, that crystal diction, that subtle tempo were too much for his sensitive soul. He was enraptured. By the end of the performance he knew beyond any shadow of doubt that Jiang Yu-han was an artist of True Feeling, and not to be compared with the common run of actors. It reminded him of a passage from the chapter ‘On Music’, in the Liber Ritualis:
‘Feeling stirs within and is embodied in sound. When that sound is fashioned by art, music is born.’
‘No wonder true lovers of music make so much of “Knowing the Sound”, entering into the essence of the music,’ thought Bao-Yu to himself. ‘I must get to the heart of it. Poetry conveys feeling, but mu
sic strikes to the very core. From now on I must study it in earnest.’
He was awoken from this rapture by Jia She, who had had enough and this time left before his host had another chance to detain him. Bao-yu had no choice but to follow in his uncle’s steps.
On their arrival home, Jia She went straight to his own apartment, while Bao-yu went to report to his father, who had just returned from the Board and was discussing with Jia Lian the affair of the impounded rent-wagons.
‘I sent a man with a note today,’ Jia Lian was saying. ‘But the local mandarin was out. The gateman said that his master knew nothing of the affair and had certainly never issued a warrant in connection with it. He said it was a piece of flagrant corruption and extortion on the part of the “scum in the highway-patrol”. As this was Jia family property, he said he would have the culprits found and dealt with, and gave his personal guarantee that we would have the vehicles and goods back by tomorrow. If we discover a single thing missing, we are to report to his master and stern measures will be taken. But at present, as his master was away, he asked us as a special favour to be discreet and not bother him with it.’
‘How can such a thing be done without any kind of warrant?’ said Jia Zheng.
‘You don’t seem to realize, Uncle,’ said Jia Lian, ‘that this sort of thing goes on all the time. I think we shall probably have our goods back tomorrow all right.’
Business concluded, Jia Lian left the room. Bao-yu now came forward and reported on his day at the Earl’s. His father asked him a few questions, then sent him on to Grandmother Jia’s.
Jia Lian had not forgotten yesterday’s unaccounted absence on the part of the two menservants, and on leaving Jia Zheng he gave orders for a general assembly of the staff. This time there was a prompt response. After a few preliminary words of reprimand Jia Lian called forward Lai Da, the chief steward.
