by Cao Xueqin
Xiren had never had so much as a harsh word from Baoyu. Now that he had lost his temper and kicked her—in public too—she felt overwhelmed with shame, resentment and pain. But sure that he hadn’t done this deliberately, she did her best to control herself.
“It’s all right,” she answered. “Go in and change your clothes.”
Once inside he said contritely, “This is the first time in my life I’ve lashed out in a temper—and it had to be at you.”
Still wincing she helped him out of his wet clothes.
“I’m your number one maid,” she answered jokingly, “So I should have first share of everything big or small, good or bad. I just hope you won’t make a habit of kicking people.”
“I didn’t mean to do it.”
“I’m not saying you did. Usually it’s the younger ones who go to the gate. They’re all so spoilt that nobody can stand them, and they’re not afraid of anyone either. It would have served them right if you’d kicked one of them to frighten them. Today I’m to blame for not letting them open the gate.”
By now the rain had stopped. Both Baoguan and Yuguan had left. What with the pain in her side and her vexation, Xiren ate nothing that evening. And when she undressed to have her bath she was frightened by the bruise, the size of a bowl, below her ribs, but could hardly remark on it. The pain continued after she was in bed and made her groan in her sleep.
Though Baoyu had not kicked her deliberately, Xiren’s obvious discomfort disturbed him. And hearing her cry out during the night he realized how badly he must have hurt her. He slipped out of bed, took the lamp, and went over to have a look. Just as he reached her bedside she coughed, then brought up some phlegm and opened her eyes with a gasp.
“What are you doing?” she asked in surprise when she saw him.
“You were groaning in your sleep. I must have hurt you badly. Let me have a look.”
“I feel dizzy and there’s a bitter-sweet taste in my throat. Throw the light on the floor, will you?”
Baoyu did as she asked and saw that she had coughed blood.
“How dreadful!” he exclaimed.
Xiren’s heart failed her at the sight of the blood.
But to know what followed, you must read the next chapter.
Chapter 31
A Torn Fan Wins a Smile from a Maid
A Pair of Unicorns Suggest a Match
When Xiren saw the blood on the floor her heart failed her, for she had often heard tell: Spitting blood while young means an early death or infirmity for life. So her dreams of future honour and splendour had gone up in smoke! She could not help shedding tears. Baoyu’s heart ached too.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. She forced a smile. “All right.”
He would have called someone at once to heat Shaoxing wine and fetch pills compounded with goat’s blood, but Xiren restrained him.
“If you make such a fuss that people come flocking in, they’ll blame me for getting above myself,” she explained. “At present not a soul knows, but to noise it abroad would be damaging for us both. Just send a boy tomorrow to ask Doctor Wang for some medicine, and that will set me right. Far better keep the whole business quiet.”
Since this made sense Baoyu had to agree. He fetched tea for Xiren to rinse her mouth and, knowing how worried he was, she lay there quietly letting him wait on her, for otherwise he would have roused the others.
Next day, at the crack of dawn, Baoyu scrambled into his clothes. Not stopping to wash or comb his hair, he went off to find Wang Jiren whom he plied with questions. When the doctor heard what had happened, he assured him it was simply a contusion and prescribed some pills, giving directions as to their use which Baoyu carried out on his return to the Garden. But no more of this.
This was the day of the Double Fifth Festival. The doors were hung with mugwort and rushes, everyone wore tiger-charms, and Lady Wang gave a family feast at midday to which Aunt Xue and her daughter were invited.
Baoyu noticed that Baochai was cold-shouldering him because of what had happened the previous day. His own low spirits were ascribed by his mother to embarrassment over yesterday’s episode with Jinchuan, and therefore she deliberately ignored him. Daiyu, for her part, assumed that his dejection was the result of having offended Baochai, and that displeased her too. As for Xifeng, she had heard the evening before from Lady Wang about Baoyu and Jinchuan, and in deference to her aunt’s displeasure was not her usual cheerful, laughing self, making the atmosphere even more constrained. As Yingchun and the other Jia girls were affected by the general lack of spirits, the company soon dispersed.
Now Daiyu naturally preferred solitude to society. She reasoned, “Coming together can only be followed by parting. The more pleasure people find in parties, the more lonely and unhappy they must feel when the parties break up. So better not forgather in the first place. The same is true of flowers: they delight people when in bloom, but it’s so heartrending to see them fade that it would be better if they never blossomed.” For this reason she grieved over what others enjoyed.
Baoyu, on the other hand, wished that parties need never break up, flowers never fade; and although he could neither stop a feast from ending nor flowers from withering, he grieved every time this happened.
So whereas Daiyu did not care when the feasters parted in low spirits today, Baoyu went back to his room feeling so gloomy that he did nothing but sigh. When Qingwen, who was helping him change, dropped his fan and broke it he sighed:
“How stupid you are! What’s to become of you when in future you have a home of your own? Surely you can’t go on being so careless then.”
“How bad-tempered you’ve grown lately,” she retorted with a snigger. “Always throwing your weight about. The other day you even beat Xiren, and now you’re picking on me. You can kick or beat us as much as you like, of course, but what’s so dreadful about dropping a fan? Plenty of glass vases and agate bowls have been smashed before without your flaring up. It seems pointless to make such a fuss over a fan. If you’re fed up with us, you can send us packing and get some better attendants. But why not part company in a peaceful, friendly way?”
“Don’t worry,” he cried, fairly trembling with rage. “We shall part sooner or later.”
Xiren, who had overheard them, now hurried in.
“Why take on again for no reason?” she asked Baoyu. “Didn’t I tell you, the moment my back’s turned there’s trouble.”
“If you’re so clever,” sneered Qingwen, “you should have come earlier to prevent this tantrum. You’re the one who’s looked after him since ancient times—I never did. It’s because you’re so good at it that you got kicked right under your heart yesterday. Heaven knows what punishment is waiting tomorrow for me, unfit as I am to wait on him.”
Annoyance and mortification tempted Xiren to make a sharp retort. She only controlled herself because Baoyu was already livid with rage.
“Run along and amuse yourself outside, good sister,” she said, pushing Qingwen away. “We’re the ones to blame.” This “we,” obviously meaning Baoyu and herself, made Qingwen even more jealous.
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘we,’“ she cried with a scornful laugh. “Don’t make me blush for you. What you’re up to on the sly is no secret to me. The fact of the matter is, you’ve not even earned the grade of a concubine yet, so you’re no better than I am. How can you talk of ‘we’?”
Xiren flushed crimson over her indiscretion.
“If the rest of you are so jealous,” raged Baoyu, “I’ll raise her status just to spite you.”
Xiren caught him by the hand to restrain him.
“Why argue with a silly girl? You’re usually broad-minded enough to overlook plenty of worse things than this. What’s got into you today?”
“I’m too silly to be up to talking to you,” snorted Qingwen.
“Are you quarrelling with me, miss, or with Master Bao? If I annoy you just tell me, instead of squabbling with him. If Master Bao annoys you
, don’t make such a row that everybody hears. I came in to try to smooth things over and save everybody’s face, but then you set on me. Which of us are you mad at, him or me? What’s the idea, lashing out in all directions? Well, I’ll say no more. It’s up to you now.”
With that she walked away.
“There was no need to fly into such a temper,” said Baoyu to Qingwen. “I know what’s on your mind. I’ll tell the mistress you’ve reached the age to be sent home. How about that?”
“Why should I go home?” Tears of distress welled up in Qingwen’s eyes. “How can you trump up an excuse to get rid of me just because you’ve taken a dislike to me?”
“I’ve never been through such a scene before. You’re obviously set on going. So I’d better ask my mother to send you away.”
He was starting out when Xiren barred the way.
“Where are you off to?” she asked.
“To tell my mother.”
“What nonsense!” She smiled at him coaxingly. “How can you have the heart to shame her so? Even if she really wanted to leave, you should wait until she’s cooled down and then mention it to the mistress casually. If you rush over now as if this were something urgent, Her Ladyship’s bound to start imagining things.”
“Not her. I’ll just tell her that she insists on leaving.”
“When did I insist on leaving?” sobbed Qingwen. “You fly into a rage, then put words into my mouth. All right, go and report it. But I’ll dash out my brains sooner than leave this house.”
“That’s strange!” he fumed. “If you won’t go, what’s all this fuss about? I can’t stand these rows. Far simpler if you left.”
He was so set on telling his mother that Xiren saw no way to stop him. She fell on her knees to plead. This was the signal for Bihen, Qiuwen and Sheyue, who had been listening with bated breath outside, to rush in and kneel down beside her.
Baoyu pulled Xiren to her feet, sank with a sigh on to his bed, and sent the other girls out.
“What am I to do?” he demanded. “I’ve worn my heart out, yet nobody cares.”
He wept and Xiren shed tears in sympathy. Qingwen beside them was trying to speak through her sobs when Daiyu’s arrival made her slip away.
“What’s all this crying during the festival?” asked Daiyu mockingly. “Are you fighting for sticky rice dumplings?”
The two of them laughed.
“Since you won’t tell me I’ll find out from her.” Daiyu patted Xiren’s shoulder. “What’s happened, dear sister-in-law? I suppose you two have been squabbling again. Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll act as peacemaker.”
“You’re joking, miss.” Xiren pushed her away. “Don’t talk such nonsense to us servant-girls.”
“You may call yourself a servant-girl, but I regard you as my sister-in-law.”
“Why give her another name for people to jeer at?” protested Baoyu. “There’s enough gossip already without your joining in.”
“You don’t know how I feel, miss,” said Xiren. “I’ll never have any peace until I can die and be done with it!”
“I can’t say what others would do if you died.” Daiyu smiled. “I’d die first of crying.”
“I’d become a monk if you died,” Baoyu declared.
“Do be quiet,” cried Xiren. “That’s no way to talk.”
Daiyu held out two fingers with a smile.
“That’s twice, so far, you’ve become a monk. I must keep track of how many times you do it.”
Baoyu knew she was referring to their conversation the other day, and with a smile he let the matter drop.
Soon after that Daiyu left and Baoyu received an invitation from Xue Pan, which he could hardly decline, to a drinking party. He was unable to leave before the end. Dusk had fallen by the time he came back, slightly tipsy, and as he lurched into his courtyard he noticed someone lying on a couch there. Assuming that it was Xiren, he sat down beside her and nudged her.
“Has the pain stopped?” he asked.
The figure on the couch sat up.
“Why are you back to plague me again?” she demanded.
It was not Xiren but Qingwen. He made her sit beside him.
“You’re growing more and more spoilt,” he teased. “When you dropped that fan and I just said a couple of words, you launched into such a tirade. I don’t mind your scolding me, but was it right to drag Xiren into it too when she meant so well?”
“It’s so hot, keep your hands to yourself,” countered Qingwen. “What would people think if they saw? I’m not fit to be sitting here with you anyway.”
“Then why were you sleeping here?” he asked with a grin. She giggled.
“It was all right before you came, but not now that you’re here. Get up and let me have my bath. I’ll call Xiren and Sheyue—they’ve already had theirs.”
“After all the wine I’ve drunk I need a bath too. If you’ve not had yours, fill the tub and we’ll bath together.”
Qingwen waved this proposal aside with a laugh.
“Not I. I wouldn’t dare. I remember what happened that time Bihen helped you bath. Two or three hours it took and we couldn’t go in—heaven knows what you were up to. When you’d finished and we had a look, the floor right up to the legs of the bed was all over water— even the bed mat was sopping. Goodness knows what sort of bath you had! It kept us laughing for days. I haven’t the time to mop up after you, and see no need for you to bath with me. Besides, it’s so cool now I don’t think you ought to have a bath; I’ll just get you a basin of water to wash your face and comb your hair. Yuanyang brought in a lot of fruit not long ago which is being chilled in that crystal bowl. I’ll tell them to bring it for you.”
“In that case, you mustn’t bath either. Just wash your hands and bring the fruit.”
Qingwen laughed.
“If I’m so careless that I even break fans, how can I fetch fruit? If I broke a plate too, I’d never hear the end of it.”
“You can if you want. Such things are meant to be used. You may like one thing, I another. People’s tastes differ. For instance, fans are meant for fanning; but if I choose to break one for fun, what’s wrong with that? But we shouldn’t break things to work off a fit of temper. It’s the same with cups or plates which are for serving things in. If you smash them because you like the sound, all right. Just don’t work off your temper on them. That’s what’s called caring for things.”
“If that’s so, get me a fan to tear up. I love ripping things apart.”
With a smile he handed her his own. Sure enough, she ripped it in two, then tore it to pieces. Baoyu chuckled.
“Well done! Try and make a bigger noise.”
Just then along came Sheyue.
“What a wicked waste!” she cried. “Stop it.”
Baoyu’s answer was to snatch her fan from her and give it to Qingwen, who promptly tore it up and joined in his loud laughter.
“What’s the idea?” demanded Sheyue. “Spoiling my fan—is that your idea of fun?”
. “Just pick another from the fan case,” Baoyu told her. “What’s so wonderful about a fan?”
“You’d better bring the case out here then and let her tear the whole lot up.”
“You bring it.” Baoyu chuckled.
“I won’t do anything of the sort. She’s not broken her wrist, let her fetch it.”
“I’m tired.” Qingwen lay back laughing. “I’ll tear up some more tomorrow.”
“You know the ancient saying,” put in Baoyu. “‘A thousand pieces of gold can hardly purchase a smile.’ And what are a few fans worth?”
He called for Xiren, who came out having just changed into clean clothes and got little Jia Hui to clear away the broken fans. Then they sat outside for a while enjoying the cool.
At noon the next day Lady Wang and the girls were gathered in the Lady Dowager’s room when the arrival of Shi Xiangyun was announced. She entered the courtyard presently with a troop of maids and nurses, to be greeted by her cousins
at the foot of the steps. As the girls had not seen each other for a month they naturally had a most affectionate reunion, after which Xiangyun went in to pay her respects to the others.
“It’s hot,” said the Lady Dowager. “Do take off your outer garments.”
As Xiangyun did so Lady Wang remarked, “What a lot you’re wearing, child.”
“My second aunt made me,” she replied. “I didn’t want to put on so much.”
“If you only knew, aunt, she loves dressing up in other people’s clothes,” said Baochai with a smile. “During her visit here in the third or fourth month last year, she put on Cousin Bao’s gown and boots, as well as his chaplet, and stood behind that chair. At a casual glance she looked so like him—except for two extra earrings—that the old lady was quite taken in.
“‘Baoyu, come here,’ she cried. ‘Don’t let the dust from the lantern tassels over your head get in your eyes.’
“The little wretch just smiled and didn’t stir. Then we all burst out laughing and the old lady had to laugh too.
“‘Well, you look even better dressed up as a boy,’ she said.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” put in Daiyu. “The year before last she was fetched in the first month, and she’d only been here a couple of days when it started to snow. I believe my grandmother and aunt had just come back from bowing to the ancestral portraits, and the old lady’s new red woollen cape was lying there. Cousin Shi put it on without anyone noticing, tying it at the waist with a handkerchief because it was too big and long for her. Then she went with the maids to the back yard to make a snow-man and fell flat on her face by the drain, covering herself with mud.”
At the recollection of this everybody laughed. “Nanny Zhou,” asked Baochai, “does your young lady still get up to pranks like that?”
Xiangyun’s nanny only smiled.
“I don’t mind her pranks,” said Yingchun, “But she chatters too much for me. Even in her sleep she rattles away, laughing and chattering. All the nonsense she talks—I don’t know where she gets it from’.”
“I expect she’s better now,” remarked Lady Wang. “The other day a match was proposed for her, and she’ll soon be going to live with her mother-in-law. Then she’ll have to change her ways.”
