A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  So saying, she went off. With a warm sense of gratitude to her, Xiren returned to Baoyu. Finding him in a dreamy, drowsy state, she went to the other room to tidy herself.

  Although Baoyu lay as still as he could, his buttocks were smarting as if scorched by fire, pricked by needles, or cut by knives. The slightest movement wrung a groan from him. Dusk was falling, Xiren had gone, and he dismissed the other maids saying that he would call if he wanted anything.

  Dozing off, he dreamed that Qiguan had come to tell of his capture by prince Zhongshun’s steward; after which Jinchuan appeared, in tears, to explain why she had thrown herself into the well. Half sleeping and half waking, he paid only scant attention. But then he felt himself shaken and caught the faint sound of sobbing. He opened his eyes with a start to see Daiyu. Suspecting at first that this was another dream, he propped himself up to look at her more closely. Her eyes were swollen, her face was bathed in tears: it was Daiyu beyond a doubt. He would have gazed at her longer, but the pain in his legs was so unbearable that he fell back with a groan.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” he said. “Though the sun’s set, the ground is still hot. Walking here and back may make you unwell again. I’m not in any pain after my beating, just putting on an act to fool them so that word of it will get out to my father. I’m shamming actually. Don’t you worry about me.”

  Daiyu was not crying aloud. She swallowed her tears in silence till she felt as if she would choke. She had a thousand replies to make to Baoyu, but not one word could she utter. At long last she sobbed:

  “Never do such things again.”

  “Don’t you worry,” replied Baoyu with a long sigh. “Please don’t talk this way. I would die happily for people like them, and I’m still alive.”

  At this point some maids in the courtyard announced Xifeng’s arrival. Daiyu at once stood up.

  “I’ll go out the back way and drop in again later,” she said.

  Baoyu caught her hand protesting, “That’s a strange thing to do. Why should you be afraid of her?”

  Daiyu stamped one foot in desperation.

  “Look at my eyes,” she whispered. “She’d make fun of me if she saw.”

  At once he released her and she slipped past his bed and out through the back court just as Xifeng came in from the front.

  “Are you better?” she asked Baoyu. “If you fancy anything to eat, send someone to my place for it.”

  Aunt Xue called next. And then the Lady Dowager sent maids to inquire after the invalid. When it was time to light the lamps, Baoyu swallowed two mouthfuls of soup and soon dozed off. Then came some of the older maid-servants, the wives of Zhou Rui, Wu Xindeng and Zheng Haoshi, who were in the habit of calling and had dropped in after hearing of today’s trouble. Xiren hurried out to greet them with a smile.

  “You’re a second too late, aunties,” she whispered, “Master Bao has just gone to sleep.”

  She offered them tea in the outer room and after sitting quietly for a while they left, having asked her to let Baoyu know that they had called. As Xiren was coming back from seeing them off, one of Lady Wang’s women accosted her with the message that her mistress wanted to see one of Master Bao’s maids. Xiren came to a quick decision. Turning softly she told Qingwen, Sheyue, Tanyun and Qiuwen:

  “The mistress has sent for one of us. You see to things here. I’ll be back presently.”

  She went with the other woman out of the Garden to Lady Wang’s apartments, where she found her fanning herself with a palm-leaf fan on the couch.

  “Why didn’t you send one of the others?” asked Baoyu’s mother. “Who’ll look after him in your absence?”

  “Master Bao’s sound asleep now, and the other girls know how to look after him,” Xiren answered confidently. “Please don’t worry, madam. I thought perhaps you had some instructions which one of the others might not understand, and that might hold things up.”

  “I’ve no special instructions. I just wanted to know how he is now.”

  “Miss Baochai brought us a salve, and after I applied it he seemed better. At first the pain kept him awake, but now he’s sleeping soundly. It shows he’s on the mend.”

  “Did he eat anything?”

  “Only two mouthfuls of the soup the old lady sent. He complained he was parched and asked for some sour plum juice. But I thought to myself: Sour things are astringent, and when he was beaten and couldn’t cry out some choleric humours must have rushed to his viscera; plum juice might affect them, bringing on a serious illness, and that would never do. Finally I talked him out of it and gave him some candied rose petals instead. He only ate half a bowl, though, then found it cloying and insipid.”

  “Why didn’t you send and let me know before?” cried Lady Wang. “The other day I was sent a couple of bottles of scented flower juice and meant to give them to him, but thought he might waste them. If he finds rose petals cloying, take him these. One tea-spoon in a bowl of water is delicious.” She told Caiyun, “Fetch those bottles of juice which were brought the other day.”

  “Two bottles will be plenty,” Xiren assured her, “More would be wasted. We can always come and ask for more when it’s finished.”

  Caiyun went off on this errand, returning presently with two bottles which she handed to Xiren. They were tiny glass bottles barely three inches high, with silver caps which screwed on, and yellow labels. On one was written “Pure Osmanthus Juice,” on the other “Pure Rose Juice.”

  “What luxury objects!” Xiren laughed. “Such small bottles can’t hold much.”

  “They’re for the Imperial use,” explained Lady Wang. “Don’t you see the yellow label? Mind you keep them carefully for him. Don’t waste any of the juice.”

  Xiren assented and was about to leave when Lady Wang told her to wait.

  “There’s something else I want to ask you,” she said.

  Having made sure that no one else was about she continued, “There’s talk that the master beat Baoyu because of some tale Huan told. Did you hear that? If you did, just tell me what it was. I won’t make a rumpus about it. No one will know that it was you who told me.”

  “No, I didn’t hear that,” replied Xiren. “I heard it was because Master Bao kept an actor from some prince’s mansion, and they came to ask His Lordship to send him back.”

  Lady Wang shook her head.

  “That was one reason, but there was another too.”

  “If there’s anything else I really don’t know it,” rejoined Xiren. She added, “May I make so bold, now that I’m here, to suggest something, madam?....”

  She broke off at this point.

  “Go on.”

  With a sly smile she went on, “I hope Your Ladyship won’t think it presumptuous.”

  “Of course not. What is it?”

  “Actually, Master Bao does need to be taught a lesson. If His Lordship doesn’t discipline him, there’s no knowing what may happen in future.”

  On hearing this, Lady Wang clapped her hands together, exclaiming “Gracious Buddha!” Then although so eager to hear more, she confided, “Dear child, I’m glad you are so understanding—that’s exactly how I feel. Of course I know the importance of discipline. I haven’t forgotten how strict I was with Master Zhu. But there’s a reason for my indulgence now. I’m getting on for fifty, and I’ve only the one son left; besides, he’s rather delicate and the old lady dotes on him. If I were too strict so that something happened to him, or if the old lady were upset, the whole household would be turned upside down and that would be even worse. That’s why he’s been spoiled. I’m always scolding him, pleading with him, getting angry with him or crying over him, but after a short improvement back he slips. He’ll never mend his ways unless he’s made to smart. Yet if he’s badly injured, I’ll have no one to depend on in the future.”

  With this she burst into tears. And Xiren, seeing her distress, wept in sympathy.

  “He’s your son, madam, of course you take this to heart. Even those of us who w
ait on him would be happy if everyone could keep out of trouble. If things go on like this we’ll have no peace either. Not a day goes by but I reason with Master Bao, yet it has no effect. It’s not his fault if people of that sort make up to him, and he loses patience when we reason with him. Since you’ve brought this up, madam, I’d like to ask your advice about something that’s been worrying me for a long time. I’ve never raised it before for fear you might misunderstand. In that case, not only would I be wasting my breath but taking an outrageous liberty.”

  Lady Wang realized there was something behind this.

  “Just say what’s on your mind, my child,” she urged. “I’ve heard nothing but good of you recently from everyone. I assumed it was just because you looked after Baoyu well and were pleasant to everybody. Such thoughtfulness in little things is good. That’s why I treated you like one of the old nurses. Now I see you have principles too and your views coincide with mine. Just say whatever’s on your mind, but don’t let it go any further.”

  “It’s nothing else, only that I was hoping Your Ladyship might arrange for Master Bao to move out of the Garden.”

  Lady Wang was shocked. She caught hold of Xiren’s hand. “Has Baoyu been up to anything improper?”

  “No, no, madam. Don’t misunderstand me. Nothing of that sort. But in my humble opinion, now that he and the young ladies are no longer children and, what’s more, Miss Lin and Miss Bao aren’t members of the family, cousins of different sexes should live apart. When they spend all their time together every day, it’s not convenient for them and we can’t help worrying. Besides, it doesn’t look good to people outside. As the proverb has it: Best be prepared for the worst. A lot of foolishness is quite innocent, but suspicious people always think the worst. Better make sure in advance that there’s no trouble.

  “You know, madam, what Master Bao is like and how he enjoys amusing himself with us girls. If no precautions are taken and he does something the least bit foolish—no matter whether it’s true or not —there’s bound to be talk. Lowclass people will gossip. When they’re well disposed, they laud you to the skies; when they’re not, they talk as if you were worse than a beast. If people speak well of him, that’s as it should be. If a single slighting remark is passed, not only shall we deserve a thousand deaths—that’s not important— but his reputation will be ruined for life and how will you answer for it to His Lordship? Another proverb says: A gentleman should show providence. Better guard against this now. You’re naturally too busy, madam, to think of these things, and they might not occur to us either. But if they do and we fail to mention it, that would be very remiss. Lately this has been preying on my mind day and night, but I couldn’t mention it to anyone else. Only my lamp at night knew how I worried!”

  Lady Wang felt thunderstruck on hearing this, borne out as it was by the case of Jinchuan. The more she thought, the more grateful she felt to Xiren.

  “What a wise child you are to see so far!” she exclaimed. “Of course I’ve given some thought to this myself, but lately I’ve had too much else on my mind. Now you’ve reminded me. I’m glad you’re so concerned for our reputation. I really had no idea what a good girl you are! All right, you may go now. Leave everything to me. But I tell you this: after what you’ve said today, I mean to entrust Baoyu to you. You must look after him and keep him safe. That way, you’ll be safeguarding me as well, and I shan’t forget our obligation to you.”

  Xiren hastily assented and withdrew. Back in Happy Red Court, she found Baoyu had just woken up. When she told him about the juice he was delighted. He asked to taste some and pronounced it delicious.

  Because Baoyu had Daiyu on his mind he was eager to send someone over to her, but for fear of Xiren he had to resort to a trick. He dispatched Xiren to Baochai to borrow some books, and as soon as she had left called for Qingwen.

  “Go and see what Miss Lin is doing,” he said. “If she asks after me, tell her I’m better.”

  “I can’t just go there without any excuse. Is there no message that you want to send?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “Give me something to take then, or ask to borrow something. Otherwise what am I going to say when I see her?”

  After a little thought Baoyu picked up two handkerchiefs and tossed them to her.

  “All right, tell her I sent you to give her these.”

  “This is even odder!” cried Qingwen. “What would she want two old handkerchiefs for? She’ll flare up again and say you’re teasing her.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll understand.”

  So Qingwen took his gift to Bamboo Lodge, where she found Chunxian hanging some handkerchiefs to dry on the balustrade. Chunxian held up a warning finger. “She’s gone to bed.”

  Qingwen slipped into the dark room where the lamps were not yet lit. Daiyu, lying on the bed, asked who it was. “It’s me, Qingwen.”

  “What do you want?”’

  “Master Bao has sent you some handkerchiefs, miss.”

  Why should he send me handkerchiefs? Daiyu wondered.

  “Who gave these to him?” she asked. “I suppose they’re specially fine ones. Tell him to keep them for someone else, I don’t need them for the time being.”

  “They’re not new,” replied Qingwen giggling. “He’s often used them.”

  Daiyu was even more mystified at this, but some careful thought cleared up the riddle for her.

  “Leave them then,” she said quickly, “You may go.”

  So Qingwen put down the handkerchiefs and left, puzzling her head all the way back over this gift.

  Meanwhile Daiyu, touched by the meaning of this gift, was lost in reverie. Pleased as she was by Baoyu’s insight and sympathy, it was sad to think that all her concern for him might come to nothing. This unexpected present of two used handkerchiefs was rather laughable if it were not for the fact that she understood the thought behind it; yet it was scandalous that he should send and she accept a secret gift. And it made her ashamed of her habit of crying so much. As she mused in this way, her heart was very full, her mind in a turmoil. Having ordered the lamps to be lit, without any thought of the possible consequences she ground some ink on the inkstone, dipped her brush in it and quickly wrote these lines on the handkerchiefs:

  Vain are all these idle tears,

  Tears shed secretly—for whom?

  Your kind gift of a foot of gauze

  Only deepens my gloom.

  By stealth I shed pearly tears,

  Idle tears the livelong day;

  Hard to wipe them from sleeve and pillow,

  Then suffer the stains to stay.

  No silk thread can string these pearls;

  Dim now the tear-stains of those bygone years;

  A thousand bamboos grow before my window—

  Is each dappled and stained with tears?

  She would have written more but her whole body was afire, her face burning. Going to the mirror-stand she removed its silk cover and saw that her flushed cheeks were redder than peach blossom, but failed to realize that this was the first symptom of consumption. She went to bed with the handkerchiefs clasped in her hands and lost herself in dreams.

  To return to Xiren and her errand to Baochai, when she found that Baochai was not in the Garden but had gone to her mother’s house, she went back empty-handed. And Baochai did not return till the second watch.

  The fact is that Baochai’s knowledge of her brother had led her to suspect that he was behind the visit of the prince’s chief steward, and Xiren’s report confirmed her suspicion. Xiren of course had this on hearsay from Beiming, who had simply been guessing, not having any proof. But she now was sure of his guilt. The joke was that for all Xue Pan’s bad reputation he was not to blame this time, and yet everyone condemned him out of hand.

  Coming home today after carousing outside, Xue Pan went in to greet his mother and found Baochai with her. After they had exchanged a few words he remarked:

  “I hear Cousin Bao got a whac
king. What for?”

  Aunt Xue was already upset on this score.

  “You trouble-maker,” she snapped back, gnashing her teeth, “this is all your doing. And you have the impudence to ask!” Xue Pan was genuinely taken aback. “What trouble have I made?” he asked.

  “Still playing the innocent? Everyone knows you were the one who told. Do you still deny it?”

  “If everyone said I’d killed a man, would you believe it?”

  “Even your sister knows it was you. Would she make up something against you?”

  “Do keep your voices down!” put in Baochai quickly. “It will all be cleared up by and by.” She turned to her brother. “Whether you told or not, it’s over and done with. Don’t let’s quibble or make a mountain out of a molehill. Take my advice, though, and stop fooling around outside. Just mind your own business. You waste all your time with those rowdies and you’re too careless. If nothing happens, well and good. But if trouble starts everyone is bound to suspect you, whether you caused it or not. Why, even I would suspect you, let alone others.”

  Blunt, outspoken Xue Pan could not stand such insinuations. Baochai’s warning against fooling about outside and his mother’s charge that his careless talk had caused Baoyu’s flogging made him stamp with rage and swear he must clear himself.

  “Who’s been shifting the blame on to me?” he fumed. “I’ll smash the scoundrel’s teeth. It’s obvious that to make up to Baoyu they’re using me as a whipping-boy. Is Baoyu the king of heaven? Whenever his father whacks him the whole household’s bound to be upside down for days. After my uncle caned him for misbehaving last time, it somehow came to the old lady’s ears that Cousin Zhen was behind it and she summoned him to give him a big dressing-down. This time they’re picking on me. Well, I’m not afraid. I’ll go and kill Baoyu then pay with my life— make a clean sweep!”

  He seized the door bar and started rushing out. In desperation his mother dragged him back.