The Golden Lotus, Volume 1

by Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng

  “Oh, the silly woman!” Ximen cried, “the Fates have treated her hardly.” He sent a servant to report the matter to Li, one of the local magistrates. “The family were entertaining visitors,” he was told to say, “and this woman, who was responsible for the silver, lost a silver cup. She was afraid her master would punish her, and killed herself.” At the same time he was to make the magistrate a present of thirty taels of silver. The magistrate acted as was expected of him and only sent one of his officers with a few coroner’s men to view the corpse.

  Ximen Qing bought a coffin and applied for a certificate. Then Ben the Fourth and Laixing took the body to the cemetery outside the city. They gave the firemen five qian of silver to burn the body. A heap of wood had already been piled around the coffin and they were just about to set fire to it, when Huilian’s father, Song Ren the coffin dealer, suddenly came up and stopped them. There was something mysterious about his daughter’s death, he said, and he accused Ximen Qing of abusing his authority and trying to seduce her. “My daughter,” he said, “was an honest woman and repulsed him. She had met her death at his hands. I am going to take the matter to the Governor of the Province, so let no one presume to burn her body.”

  The firemen were afraid to complete their task and went away. Ben the Fourth and Laixing were obliged to leave the coffin in the temple. They went back to tell their master what had happened.

  CHAPTER 27

  The Garden of Delights

  Laibao returned from the Eastern Capital and made his report to Ximen Qing. “When I reached the Capital,” he said, “I went to see the Comptroller of the Household and gave him your letter. Then I was taken to the minister. When his Eminence had looked at the list of presents, he accepted them. Then I explained the case. His Eminence said: ‘I will send at once to the Governor of Shandong and ask him to liberate the salt merchant Wang Sifeng of Yangzhou and the others.’ Master Zhai sent his greetings to you. He says he would like to have a talk with you and that you ought to go to the Capital for his Eminence’s birthday on the fifteenth day of the sixth month.”

  Ximen Qing was satisfied. He sent Laibao to tell Master Qiao. While he was speaking, Ben the Fourth and Laixing came in, but seeing their master occupied, they stood aside until Laibao had gone. Then Ximen Qing said to Ben the Fourth: “I suppose you have come back from the funeral?” Ben the Fourth hardly dared to speak, but Laixing came forward and whispered: “Song Ren came to the funeral pyre, and refused to allow the body to be burned. He said it was extremely irregular. He said other things that I should not like to repeat.”

  Ximen Qing was very angry. “What a detestable, hateful creature!” he cried. He sent a boy at once for Chen Jingji, told the young man to write a letter to Magistrate Li, and sent Laian with it to the Town Hall. The magistrate dispatched two runners who bound Song Ren and took him to the court. He was charged with blackmail and attempting to use the dead woman as a means of extorting money. He was brought in fetters to the Hall of Audience and there given twenty strokes so severe that the blood flowed down his legs in streams. The magistrate then bound him over never again to be a nuisance to Ximen Qing. At the same time he ordered police and firemen to go with Ximen’s servants to the place of burning and burn the body. Song Ren, his legs all beaten and bleeding, crawled home. He was so exasperated that he took a fever and died, bitterly lamenting his fate.

  Now that he had finally disposed of Huilian, Ximen Qing got ready gold and silver to the value of three hundred taels and sent for Silversmith Gu and several others to make a set of silver figures for the birthday of the Imperial Tutor. They worked beneath the awning at Ximen Qing’s house. Each of the figures was over a foot high. They also made a pair of golden flagons with the character Shou engraved upon them. Ximen had bought two pairs of peach-shaped cups of jade, two sets of crimson robes from Hangzhou, and dragon cloaks embroidered in five colors. He still wanted two rolls of a particular kind of black cloth and some crimson dragon silk, but he could not find it at any price. Then Li Ping’er said to him, “I have some sets of dragon robes that have never been made up. They are upstairs in my place. Come and look at them.”

  Ximen Qing went with her and they picked out four sets, two of crimson silk and two of the special black cloth. They all were edged with gold braid, and embroidered with five-colored dragons. They were certainly much finer than anything they could have bought. Ximen Qing was delighted. He had them all packed up and Laibao and Clerk Fu left again for the Eastern Capital on the twenty-eighth day of the fifth month.

  Two days later it was the beginning of the sixth month. The weather was very hot, and at noon the fiery sun was like a blazing umbrella in a cloudless sky. Not a particle of cloud was to be seen and it seemed hot enough to scorch the stones or to melt metal.

  It was so hot that Ximen Qing did not go out. He stayed at home with his hair undone and his clothes unbuttoned, trying to keep cool. He sat in the bower by the Kingfisher Hall watching the boys watering the flowers. In front of the Kingfisher Hall there was a bowl of sweet-smelling daphne. He told Laian to take a little watering can, and watched him sprinkle the flowers.

  Jinlian and Li Ping’er were both dressed in the lightest of silver silk, with skirts of dark red and a fringe of gold thread. Li Ping’er was wearing a short crimson cape and Jinlian had one of silver and red. Jinlian wore nothing on her head but a blue Hangzhou headdress, through which four braids of hair peeped out. On her brow were three flowers made of kingfisher feathers, which enhanced the beauty of her white face and glossy hair, her red lips and pearly teeth. The two women came smiling, holding each other’s hands.

  “You here, watering the flowers!” Jinlian cried, when she saw Ximen Qing. “Why don’t you go and dress your hair?”

  “Tell one of the maids to bring me some water,” Ximen said, “and I will do my hair here.”

  “Put down your watering can,” Jinlian said to Laian, “and send a maid with some water and a comb. Be quick about it.” Laian bowed and went to do what he was told. Then Jinlian, seeing the sweet-smelling daphne, was going to pick some to put in her hair, but Ximen Qing stopped her. “Don’t touch them, little oily mouth. I will give one to each of you.” He had already picked a few blossoms and put them into a crackleware vase.

  “Ah, my son,” Jinlian said, “so you’ve been plucking the flowers, have you? What do you mean by hiding them there instead of offering them to your mother?” She snatched one up and set it in her hair. Ximen Qing gave one to Li Ping’er. Then Chunmei came with a mirror and comb, and Qiuju brought water. Ximen gave three flowers to Chunmei, for Yueniang, Li Jiao’er and Yulou, and said: “Ask the Third Lady to come and play her zither for me.”

  “Chunmei can go to the Great Lady and Li Jiao’er, and if you want Yulou, I’ll go and fetch her,” Jinlian said. “When I come back, I shall expect another flower, and, if I bring someone to sing for you, still another one.”

  “Go first,” Ximen said, “and we’ll see about that when you come back.”

  “My son,” Jinlian said, “wherever can you have been brought up? What a naughty boy to think of trying to cheat me like that! If I go and fetch Yulou, I shall never get one. No, let me have it first, and then I’ll go.”

  “You wicked little rascal,” Ximen Qing said, laughing, “even in trifles like this you will have your own way.” He gave her the flower. Jinlian set it in her hair, and went towards the inner court, leaving Li Ping’er alone with Ximen Qing.

  Through the light silk skirt, Ximen could see her crimson trousers; the sun’s rays made them so transparent that he could clearly distinguish the cool flesh beneath them. The sight aroused his passion, and finding that they were alone, he stopped dressing his hair, and carried Li Ping’er to a long summer couch. He pulled aside her skirt, took down the crimson trousers, and played with her the game that is called Carrying Fire over the Mountains. They played for a long time without his bringing matters to a conclusion, and their pleasure was like that of a lovebird and his mate.
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  Jinlian did not go to the inner court. She went as far as the corner gate and then decided to give Yulou’s flower to Chunmei. She went back on tiptoe to the Kingfisher Hall. There, she stood listening outside the window, and, for quite a long time, could hear the lovers amusing themselves.

  “My darling,” she heard Ximen Qing say to Li Ping’er, “above all else I love your little white bottom. I shall do my very utmost to give you pleasure today.”

  After a pause, she heard Li Ping’er say softly, “My dearest, you must be gentle with me, for I am really not too well. The other day you were rough with me, and my belly hurt so much that only during the last day or two has it begun to feel better.”

  “You are not well?” Ximen cried. “What do you mean?”

  “I will not keep it from you any longer,” Li Ping’er told him. “For a month now, I have been cherishing a little one within me. Please treat me with some indulgence.”

  Ximen Qing was delighted beyond all measure. “Why, my precious one,” he said, “why didn’t you tell me before? If that is how things are, I will bring this game to an end at once.” His happiness reached its culmination and his joy was complete. He set both hands upon her legs, and the evidence of his delight was overwhelming. The woman beneath him raised herself to welcome it.

  After a while, Jinlian could hear Ximen breathing heavily, and his lover’s gentle voice, like an oriole’s, answering him. No sound escaped her as she stood beneath the window. Yulou came up suddenly from behind. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Jinlian signed to her to be silent, and they both went into the summerhouse. Ximen Qing was a little taken aback and did not quite know what to do.

  “What have you been doing all this long time I’ve been away?” Jinlian said. “How is it you haven’t washed, or combed your hair?”

  “I am waiting for a maid to bring me some jasmine soap,” Ximen said.

  “I have no patience with you,” Jinlian cried. “Why must you have that particular kind of soap? Is that why your face is cleaner than some people’s bottoms?”

  Ximen Qing paid no attention to this remark, but, when he had finished dressing, sat down beside Yulou. “What have you been doing in the inner court?” he said. “Have you brought your zither?”

  “I have been making a pearl flower for the Great Lady to wear at a party. Chunmei is bringing the zither.”

  Soon Chunmei came. She said she had given the flowers to the Great Lady and the Second Lady. Ximen told her to set out wine, and a bowl of ice with plums and melons in it was brought. In the cool summerhouse Ximen Qing enjoyed the society of his ladies.

  “Why didn’t you tell Chunmei to ask the Great Lady to come?” Yulou said. “She does not care for wine,” Ximen Qing said, “I thought there was no purpose in troubling her.”

  Then Ximen took the seat of honor and the three women sat down facing him. The exquisite wine was poured out for them and many delicacies were placed before them. Jinlian would not sit on a chair but took a porcelain stool for herself.

  “Come and sit on a chair,” Yulou cried, “you will find that stool too cold.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jinlian said, “I am getting old. I’ve no reason to fear an internal chill or anything of that sort. Why should I?”

  The wine was passed around three times and Ximen Qing told Chunmei to give Yulou her zither, and a lute to Jinlian. “Play the tune ‘The God of Fire Rules the World and His Glory Fills the Void.’” Jinlian refused. “How well you must have been brought up,” she cried, “to ask us to sing while you two sit there and enjoy yourselves. I will not play for you. Tell the Sixth Lady to play something.”

  “She doesn’t know how to play,” Ximen said.

  “Well, even if she doesn’t know how to play, she certainly knows how to count the beats,” Jinlian said.

  Ximen Qing laughed. “You little whore,” he cried, “you always try to pick on something,” but he told Chunmei to give Li Ping’er a pair of red ivory castanets. Then the two women began to play, spreading their exquisite fingers and slowly plucking the silken strings. They sang the song of “The Geese Flying Over the Sand,” while Xiuchun stood at the side and fanned them. When the song was over, Ximen offered each of them a cup of wine. Jinlian went to the table, drank deeply of iced water, and ate some fruit.

  “Why are you eating only cold things today?” Yulou said.

  “Nothing of any particular interest is happening in my distinguished belly,” Jinlian replied. “Why should I be afraid of cold things?”

  Li Ping’er was so embarrassed that she became white and red in turns. Ximen Qing glanced sharply at Jinlian. “You little villain,” he said, “you do nothing but talk nonsense.”

  “Brother,” Jinlian said, “old women like me get nothing but dry meat to eat. We have to eat it sinew by sinew.”

  As they were drinking, the clouds began to gather. Far away the thunder rolled and suddenly a storm broke, drenching the flowers in front of the summerhouse.

  In a few moments the rain stopped again. A rainbow appeared in the sky. The sun came out again, and in a twinkling the jasper steps glistened and a cool evening breeze freshened the courtyard. Xiaoyu came from the back court to call Yulou.

  “The Great Lady wants me,” Yulou said. “I have still some pearl flowers to finish. I must go now or she will be angry.”

  “I will go with you,” Li Ping’er said. “I should like to see the flowers.” Ximen Qing said he would go with them too. He took the zither and asked Yulou to play. He beat time with his hands and they all sang together.

  It is evening.

  The storm has passed over the southern hall

  Red petals are floating on the surface of the pool.

  Slowly the gentle thunder rolls away

  The rain is over and the clouds disperse

  The fragrance of water lilies comes to us over the distance.

  The new moon is a crescent

  Fresh from the perfumed bath, decked for the evening

  Over the darkening courtyard it wanes

  Yet will not go to rest.

  In the shade of the willow the young cicada bursts into song

  Fireflies hover over the ancestral halls.

  Listen. Whence comes this song of Ling?

  The painted boat is late returning

  The jade cords sink lower and lower

  The gentlefolk are silent.

  A vision of delight.

  Let us rise and take each other by the hand

  And tire our hair.

  The moon lights up the silken curtains.

  But there are no sleepers there.

  The brave mandarin duck tumbles the lotus leaves

  On the gently rippling water

  Sprinkling them with drops like pearls.

  They give forth fragrance.

  A perfumed breeze moves softly over the flower beds

  Beside the summerhouse

  How can our spirits fail to be refreshed?

  Why crave for the islands of the blessed, the home of fairies?

  Yet, when the west wind blows again, Autumn will come with it.

  Though we perceive it not, the seasons change.

  So singing, they reached the corner gate almost before they knew it. Yulou gave her zither to Chunmei and went to the inner court with Li Ping’er.

  “Wait for me,” Jinlian cried, “I am coming too,” Ximen Qing caught her by the hand and pulled her back.

  “So you would run away from me, little oily mouth,” he cried. “I shall not let you go.” He pulled so hard that she almost fell.

  “You funny creature,” Jinlian cried. “They are both going. Why won’t you let me go?”

  “We will drink a little wine together,” Ximen said, “and play Flying Arrows Beneath the Tai Hu Rock.”

  “We can play quite well in the summerhouse,” Jinlian said. “Why stay here? And it’s no use asking this young scamp Chunmei to bring any wine. She won’t do it.”

  Ximen Qing told Chunmei
to go. She handed the zither to Jinlian and went off with her head in the air. Jinlian strummed the zither for a while. “I have learned a few bars from Yulou,” she said. She saw how freshly the pomegranate flowers were blooming after the rain, and laughingly plucked one and set it in her hair. “I am an old lady, wearing on my brow a ‘starving-for-three-days’ flower.”

  Ximen Qing seized her tiny feet. “You little villain,” he cried, “if I weren’t afraid of somebody seeing us, I’d make you die of delight.”

  “Don’t get so excited, you naughty fellow,” Jinlian said. “Let me put down this zither.” She laid the instrument beside a flower bed. “My son,” she said, “you have only just finished amusing yourself with the Sixth Lady. Why should you come and plague me now?”

  “You are still talking nonsense,” Ximen said, “I never touched her.”

  “My boy,” Jinlian said, “you may try as hard as you like, but you will never succeed in deceiving the God who watches over Hearth and Home. What is the use of trying to hoodwink an experienced old woman like me? When I went to the inner court to take that flower, the pair of you wasted no time.”

  “Oh, do not talk such rubbish,” Ximen cried. He set her down among the flowers, and kissed her lips. She slipped her tongue into his mouth.

  “Call me ‘darling,’ and I’ll let you get up,” he said. Jinlian could not help herself. She called him darling, but, she added, “It isn’t me you really love, so why do you bother me?”

  They amused themselves for a while, and then Jinlian suggested that they should go and play Flying Arrows in the Arbor of the Vines. She took the zither into her lap and played.

  They walked side by side. Soon they had turned by the shaded pool and passed the Hall of the White Rose. Then they went in front of the Kingfisher Hall and came to the Arbor of the Vines. It was a very beautiful place.

  They came to the arbor. There were four summer stools there, and near them a vase for the game of Flying Arrows. Jinlian set down the zither and played the arrow game with Ximen Qing. Then Chunmei came with wine, and Qiuju carrying a basket of delicacies, with a bowl of iced fruits.