by Cao Xueqin
As the three others laughed, Miaoyu picked up the pot and poured the equivalent of one small cup into the goblet. Baoyu tasted it carefully and could not praise its bland purity enough.
“You’ve your cousins to thank for this treat,” observed Miaoyu primly. “If you’d come alone, I wouldn’t have offered you tea.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Baoyu chuckled. “So I’ll thank them instead of you.”
“So you should,” said the nun.
“Is this made with last year’s rain-water too?” asked Daiyu. Miaoyu smiled disdainfully.
“Can you really be so vulgar as not even to tell the difference? This is snow I gathered from plum-blossom five years ago while staying in Curly Fragrance Nunnery on Mount Xuanmu. I managed to fill that whole dark blue porcelain pot, but it seemed too precious to use so I’ve kept it buried in the earth all these years, not opening it till this summer. Today is only the second time I’ve used it. Surely you can taste the difference? How could last year’s rain-water be as light and pure as this?”
Daiyu, knowing her eccentricity, did not like to say too much or stay too long. After finishing her tea she signaled to Baochai and the two girls left, followed by Baoyu.
As he was leaving he said with a smile to Miaoyu, “That bowl may have been contaminated, but surely it’s a pity to throw it away? I think you’d do better to give it to that poor woman, who’d make enough by selling it to keep her for some time. Don’t you agree?” After a little reflection Miaoyu nodded.
“All right,” she said. “It’s a good thing I’d never drunk out of it, or I’d have smashed it. But I can’t give it to her myself. If you want to give it to her, I’ve no objection. Go ahead and take it.”
“Of course,” he chuckled. “How could you speak to the likes of her? You’d be contaminating yourself. Just let me have it.”
Miaoyu sent for the bowl and had it handed to him.
As he took it he said, “After we’ve gone, shall I send a few pages with some buckets of water from the stream to wash your floors?”
“That’s a good idea.” She smiled. “Only make them leave the buckets by the wall outside the gate. They mustn’t come in.”
“Of course not.”
He withdrew, the bowl in his sleeve, and entrusted it to one of his grandmother’s small maids with the instruction, “Give this to Granny Liu to take home tomorrow.”
By this time the Lady Dowager was ready to leave, and Miaoyu did not press her hard to stay but saw them out and closed the gate behind them.
The Lady Dowager, feeling rather tired, told Lady Wang and the girls to go and drink with Aunt Xue while she herself had a rest in Paddy-Sweet Cottage. Xifeng ordered a small bamboo sedan-chair to be brought. The old lady seated herself in this and was carried off by two serving-women, accompanied by Xifeng, Li Wan and all her own maids and older serving-women.
Meanwhile Aunt Xue had taken her leave too. Lady Wang, having dismissed the actresses and given what was left in the hampers to the maids, was free to lie down on the couch vacated by her mother-in-law. She told a small maid to lower the portiere and massage her legs.
“When the old lady wakes, come and let me know,” she ordered the servants. With that she settled down for a nap, and the rest of the party dispersed.
Baoyu, Xiangyun and the other girls watched the maids put the boxes of tidbits on the rocks. Then, some sitting on the rocks or grass, some leaning against trees or strolling by the lake, they made very merry.
Yuanyang arrived presently to take Granny Liu for a stroll, and the rest of them tagged along to watch the run. When they reached the arch erected for the Imperial Consort’s visit home, Granny Liu exclaimed:
“My word, what a big temple!”
She plumped down to kowtow, making everyone double up with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” she asked. “I know the words on this arch. We have plenty of temples like this where I live, all with arches like this one here. The characters on it are the name of the temple.”
“What temple is this?” they demanded.
Granny Liu looked up and pointed at the inscription.
“Splendid Hall of the Jade Emperor, isn’t it?”
They laughed and clapped and would have gone on teasing her, but Granny Liu’s stomach suddenly started to rumble. Hastily asking one of the younger maids for some paper, she set about loosening her clothes.
“No, no! Not here!” they cried, nearly in hysterics.
An old nurse was told to take her to the northeastern corner. Having shown her the way, the old servant took the chance to amble off to have a rest.
Now the yellow wine which Granny Liu had been drinking did not agree with her; and to quench her thirst after eating all that rich food she had drunk so much tea that her stomach was upset. She remained squatting for some time in the privy. When she emerged the wine had gone to her head, and squatting so long had left the old creature too dizzy to remember the way she had come.
She looked round. Trees, rocks, towers and pavilions stretched on every side, but having no idea how to reach these different places she could only hobble slowly down a cobbled path until she came to a building. After searching for a long time for the gate, she saw a bamboo fence. So they have bean trellises here too, she thought. Skirting the hedge, she reached a moon-gate and stepped through it. Before her was a pool five or six feet across, its banks paved with flag-stones, a clear green brook flowing through it, and lying across it a long slab of white stone. She crossed over this stone to a cobbled path which, after a couple of bends, brought her to a door. The first thing she saw as she entered it was a girl, smiling in welcome.
“The young ladies ditched me,” said Granny Liu hastily. “I had to knock about till I found this place.”
When the girl did not answer, the old woman stepped forward to take her hand and—bang!—bumped her head painfully on a wooden partition. Looking carefully at it, she found it was a painting. Strange! How could they make the figure stick out like a real person? Touching it, however, she found it was flat all over. With a nod and couple of sighs of admiration she moved on to a small door over which hung a soft green flowered portiere. She lifted this, stepped through and looked around.
The four walls here were panelled with cunningly carved shelves on which were displayed lyres, swords, vases and incense-burners. They were hung moreover with embroidered curtains and gauze glittering with gold and pearls. Even the green glazed floor-tiles had floral designs. More dazzled than ever she turned to leave—but where was the door? To her left was a bookcase, to her right a screen. She had just discovered a door behind the screen and stepped forward to open it when, to her amazement, her son-in-law’s mother came in.
“Fancy seeing you here!” exclaimed Granny Liu. “I suppose you found I hadn’t been home these last few days and tracked me down here. Which of the girls brought you in?”
The other old woman simply smiled and did not answer.
“How little you’ve seen of the world,” chuckled Granny Liu. “The flowers in this garden are so fine, you just had to go picking some to stick all over your own head—for shame!”
Again the other made no reply.
Suddenly Granny Liu recalled having heard that rich folk had in their houses some kind of full-length mirror. It dawned on her that this was her own reflection. She felt it with her hand and looked more carefully. Sure enough, it was a mirror set in four carved red sandalwood partitions.
“This has barred my way. How am I to get out?” she muttered.
Then the pressure of her fingers produced a click. For this mirror had western-style hinges enabling it to open or shut, and she had accidentally pressed the spring which made it swing back, revealing a doorway.
In pleased surprise Granny Liu stepped into the next room, where her eye was caught by some exquisite bed-curtains. Being still more than half drunk and tired from her walk, she plumped down on the bed to have a little rest. But her limbs no longer obeyed her. She
swayed to and fro, unable to keep her eyes open, then curled up and fell fast asleep.
Meanwhile the others outside waited in vain for her till Baner started crying for his grandmother.
“Let’s hope she hasn’t fallen into the cesspool of the latrine,” they said jokingly. “Someone should go and see.”
Two old women were sent but came back to report that there was no sign of her. So they searched in all directions but still could not find her.
She must have lost her way because she’s drunk, thought Xiren, and may have followed that path to our back yard. If she passed the hedge and went in by the back door, even if she knocked about blindly the girls there must have seen her. If she didn’t go that way but headed southwest, let’s hope she’s found her way out. If not, she may still be wandering around there. I’ll go and have a look.
Thinking in this way, she went back to Happy Red Court and called for the younger maids who had been left to keep an eye on the place. But they had seized this chance to run off and play. Going in past the latticed screen she heard thunderous snores and, hurrying into the bedroom, found the whole place reeking of wine and farts. On the bed, sprawled out on her back, lay Granny Liu. Xiren was shocked. She ran over and shook her hard until Granny Liu woke with a start. At sight of Xiren she hastily scrambled up.
“It was wrong of me, miss,” she cried. “But I haven’t dirtied the bed.” She was brushing it with both hands as she spoke.
Xiren signed to her to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb others for fear Baoyu should come to hear of this. Hurriedly she thrust several handfuls of incense into the large tripod and replaced the cover, then straightened things a little in the room. It was lucky at least that the old woman hadn’t been sick.
“It’s all right,” she whispered quickly. “I’ll see to this. Just say you were so tipsy that you fell asleep on one of the rocks outside. Now come along with me.”
Granny Liu assented readily and followed Xiren out to the young maids’ room where she was told to sit down. Two bowls of tea sobered her up enough to ask:
“Which of the young ladies’ rooms was that? So elegant and beautiful! I thought I was in heaven.”
“That?” Xiren smiled. “That’s Master Bao’s bedroom.”
Granny Liu was too shocked to utter another word. Xiren took her out the front way to find the rest of the party.
“Granny Liu fell asleep on the grass” was all she told them. “Now I’ve brought her back.”
Then the others thought no more of the matter, and there it rested.
To know what the sequel was, read the next chapter.
Chapter 42
The Lady of the Alpinia Warns Against Dubious Tastes in Literature
The Queen of Bamboos’ Quips Add to the General Enjoyment
Presently the Lady Dowager awoke and the evening meal was served in Paddy-Sweet Cottage. But the old lady, too listless to eat, had herself carried back in the small bamboo sedan-chair to her own apartments to rest. She insisted, however, that Xifeng and the others should dine, and so they returned to the Garden. After the meal they went their different ways.
Now Granny Liu took Baner to see Xifeng.
“I must go home first thing tomorrow,” she announced. “I’ve not stayed here long, only two or three days, yet I’ve seen things, eaten things and heard tell of things I never even knew existed. The old lady and you, madam, as well as the young ladies and the girls in the different apartments, have all been kindness itself to a poor old woman. I’ve no way to show my gratitude when I get back except by burning incense every day and praying hard to Buddha to grant that all of you live to be a hundred.”
“Don’t look so pleased,” replied Xifeng with a smile. “All because of you, the old lady’s in bed with a chill and our Dajie has caught cold too and is running a fever.”
“The old lady feels her age, and she isn’t used to exercise,” observed Granny Liu with a sigh.
“She’s never been in such high spirits as yesterday,” Xifeng assured her. “Though she likes a jaunt in the Garden, she usually only sits a while in one or two places before coming back. With you here to show round yesterday, she covered more than half the Garden. As for Dajie, Lady Wang gave her a cake while she was crying for me, and eating it in the wind has made her feverish.”
“I don’t suppose the little dear goes much into the Garden or places she doesn’t know. Not like our children, who as soon as they can walk are scampering all over the graveyards. She may have caught a chill in the wind, or being a clear-eyed innocent she may have met some spirit. If I were you I’d look up some book of enchantments, just so as to be on the safe side.”
Acting on this advice, Xifeng asked Pinger to find The Records of the Jade Casket and told Caiming to look up the relevant passage. After leafing through it Caiming read, “On the twenty-fifth of the eighth month, illness may be caused in the southeast by meeting a flower spirit. The cure is to carry forty coloured paper coins forty paces southeast, offering one at each step.”
“There you are!” exclaimed Xifeng. “There must be flower spirits in the Garden. Probably the old lady has run into one too.”
She sent for two lots of paper money and two servants to exorcise these spirits for the Lady Dowager and her own small daughter. Then sure enough Dajie fell into a sound sleep.
“Yes, after all, it’s the old who are the most experienced,” observed Xifeng. “Can you tell me, granny, why our Dajie is always ailing?”
“It’s natural enough. The children of wealthy families are too delicate to stand any rough handling. Being too pampered isn’t good for kiddies either. She’ll do better, madam, if you don’t spoil her too much.”
“I think you’re right,” agreed Xifeng. “By the way, she has no name yet. You give her one so that she can share your good fortune and live as long as you. Besides—I hope you won’t mind my saying this—you country folk aren’t so well off, and a name given by someone poor like you should act as a counterbalance.”
“When was she born?” asked Granny Liu after some thought.
“That’s the trouble: the seventh of the seventh month.”
“Why, that’s good! Call her Qiaoge then. This is what is known as ‘fighting poison with poison and fire with fire.’ If you agree to this name, madam, she’s sure to live to a ripe old age. And when she grows up and has her own family, if anything untoward happens, her bad luck will turn into good all because of this ‘happy coincidence’ in her name.”
Xifeng was naturally pleased and said gratefully, “I hope it will turn out for her as you say.”
She called Pinger then and told her, “Tomorrow we’ll most likely be busy. Sort out our presents for granny now that you’re free, so that she can leave as early as suits her tomorrow.”
“You mustn’t spend any more on me,” protested Granny Liu. “I’ve imposed on you for several days already, and if I take presents too I shall feel even worse.”
“It’s nothing much, nothing special,” replied Xifeng. “But good or bad you must take it. That will look better to your neighbours— you’ll have something to show for your trip to town.”
Just then Pinger returned and said, “Come and have a look, granny.” She led the old woman to the other bedroom, where the kang was half covered with things. Pinger picked them up one by one to show them to her.
“This is the green gauze you admired yesterday,” she said. “And here is some pale grey gauze from our mistress for a lining. These two rolls of raw silk would do well for tunics or skirts, and the two lengths of silk in this wrapping will make clothes for New Year. Here’s a hamper of all sorts of cakes from the Imperial kitchen; some you’ve tasted, others you haven’t; they’re better to offer to visitors than any you can buy outside. One of these two sacks you brought vegetables in has two pecks of rice in it from the Imperial fields, which makes an excellent porridge; the other is full of fruit and nuts from our Garden. In this packet are eight taels of silver. All these are presents from ou
r mistress. These two packets of fifty taels each, a hundred in all, are a present from Lady Wang who wants you to start a small business or buy some land with it, so that in future you don’t have to appeal to friends for help.” Then, smiling, she said in a low voice, “These two tunics and this skirt, four headscarfs and packet of embroidery silks are from me, granny. The clothes may not be new, but they haven’t been worn much. Still, if you turn up your nose at them, I shan’t complain.”
Granny Liu had exclaimed “Gracious Buddha!” at each item mentioned, until she must have invoked Buddha hundreds of times. Now, finding Pinger so generous and so modest too, she protested with a smile: “How can you say such a thing, miss? Who am I to turn up my nose at such fine things? Things money wouldn’t buy, even if I had any. I just feel ashamed to take so much, and yet since you’re so generous, miss, I must.”
“Don’t talk as if we were strangers,” chuckled Pinger. “I wouldn’t presume like this if we weren’t good friends. So don’t have any scruples about accepting. I’ve a favour to ask you too. Next New Year I want you to bring us some of your dried vegetables—cabbage, string-beans, lentil, egg-plant and gourds. All of us here, high and low, enjoy such things. That’ll be quite enough, don’t trouble to bring anything else.”
Granny Liu agreed to this with a thousand thanks.
“Off to bed with you now,” Pinger urged her. “I’ll pack everything up for you and put it here. First thing tomorrow I’ll get some boys to order a carriage and load this on for you, so that you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
More grateful than ever, Granny Liu went back to thank Xifeng effusively and take her leave of her. She spent the night in the Lady Dowager’s apartments, meaning to say goodbye to the old lady as soon as she was up the next day.
But since the Lady Dowager was unwell, the whole family came the next morning to ask after her health, and a doctor was sent for. Soon a maid announced his arrival and an old nurse stepped forward to draw the bed-curtains.
