A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  As soon as Madam You had promised to see to this, they all went out to the lobby to mount their sedan-chairs. The ladies slipped behind a screen while page boys brought in sedan-bearers to carry them out, Madam You and Lady Xing accompanying the others to the Rong Mansion. As their chairs were borne out of the main gate, they saw the insignia, equipage and musical instruments of the Duke of Ningguo and the Duke of Rongguo displayed on the east and west sides of the street, which was closed today to passers-by.

  Presently they reached the Rong Mansion and found all its gates, too, open right up to the main hall. But instead of stopping at the lobby this time, they turned west after the main hall and alighted outside the Lady Dowager’s reception room. All trooping in after her, they discovered that the place was freshly furnished with embroidered screens and brocade cushions. Fragrant herbs and aromatic pine and cedar-wood were burning in the brazier.

  As soon as the Lady Dowager had taken her seat, some old serving-women reported that two or three ladies of her generation had come to offer their congratulations. She rose to welcome them, for they had already entered, and after clasping hands and greeting her they were ushered to their seats and sipped some tea. Then the Lady Dowager saw them out no farther than the inner ceremonial gate. When she had returned and seated herself again, Jia Jing and Jia She led in the younger men of the family.

  “I put you to so much trouble the whole year round, don’t stand on ceremony now,” urged the old lady.

  But the men in one group and the women in another paid their respects together, after which they took seats on both sides in order of seniority to receive the salutations of their juniors. When all the men and maid-servants of both mansions had paid their respects according to their degree, there was a distribution of New-Year money, as well as pouches and gold and silver ingots. Then they took their seats for the family-reunion feast, the men on the east side, the women on the west, and New-Year wine, “happy-reunion soup,” “lucky fruit” and “wish-fulfilment cakes” were served, until the Lady Dowager rose and went into the inner room to change her clothes, whereupon the party broke up.

  That evening, incense and sacrifices were offered at the various Buddhist shrines and to the kitchen god; and incense-sticks and paper effigies were burnt to Heaven and Earth in the main court of Lady Wang’s compound. Huge horn lanterns high on both sides of the main gate of Grand View Garden cast a brilliant light, while all the paths were lit with lanterns too. High and low alike were splendidly dressed. And the babel of talk and laughter, punctuated by the explosion of fire-crackers, went on without intermission the whole night long.

  The next morning the Lady Dowager and others, rising at dawn, put on their robes of state and went with full pageantry to pay homage at the Imperial Palace as well as to offer the Imperial Concubine birthday congratulations. Upon her return from the Imperial banquet, the old lady went to the Ning Mansion to sacrifice to the ancestors. Then, going back to her own apartments she received the younger generations’ New-Year salutations. After these ceremonies she changed her clothes and rested, not receiving any of the kinsmen and friends who came to offer their congratulations but simply chatting with Aunt Xue and Aunt Li or playing draughts and card-games with Baoyu, Baoqin, Baochai, Daiyu and the other girls.

  Lady Wang and Xifeng were busy entertaining guests, for an unending stream of friends and relatives attended the New-Year feasts and operas held daily for about a week in their hall and courtyard. And as soon as this was over, both mansions were decked out and hung with lanterns for the approaching Lantern Festival. The Lady Dowager was feasted by Jia She on the eleventh, by Jia Zhen on the twelfth, staying with them on each occasion for half a day, while time forbids us to enumerate all the feasts to which Lady Wang and Xifeng were invited.

  On the evening of the fifteenth, the Lady Dowager had tables spread in the big hall in the small garden, an opera company hired, and gay lanterns of every description displayed at a family feast for her kinsmen in both mansions.

  The only one not invited was Jia Jing, who abstained from both wine and meat. After the ancestral sacrifice on the seventeenth he moved back outside the city to live in seclusion; but even during his stay at home he remained quietly in his room, ignoring all the festivities around him.

  As for Jia She, after sitting a while at his mother’s feast he also asked her permission to withdraw; and this the old lady readily granted knowing that his presence would cause a general constraint. Having his own different pleasures, he went home to enjoy the festival by drinking with his proteges amid a bevy of gaily-dressed girls, to the sound of music and singing.

  In the old lady’s hall about ten tables were set for the feast. Beside each, on a teapoy, stood an incense-burner burning Palace incense conferred by the Emperor; an incense box and a vase; a miniature garden about eight inches long, four inches wide and two or three inches high, with fresh flowers among small mossy rocks; teacups made in a previous reign; and gay little teapots filled with the finest tea on a small tray of Western lacquerware.

  Set out too was a crimson gauze screen in a carved purple-sandal-wood frame embroidered with flowers and calligraphy. The embroiderer, a Suzhou girl called Huiniang, had come from a family of officials and literati and been a skilled calligrapher and painter; but occasionally she did some embroidery too—purely for her own amusement, not to sell. All the flowers she embroidered were copied from paintings by famous artists of the Tang, Song, Yuan and Ming dynasties; thus the compositions and colours were based on excellent models, unlike the stereotyped compositions and garish colours produced by artisans. Beside each spray of flowers there were lines of verse about these flowers from short poems or songs by poets of old, all embroidered in cursive script with black silk thread. And the strokes of these characters, whether light or heavy, continuous or broken, were exactly the same as if written with a brush—a far cry from the grotesquely distorted scripts in the embroidery sold in the market-place.

  As Huiniang was not out to make money from this skill of hers, although her embroidery was widely known few could procure a specimen of it. Many rich and noble official families were unable to acquire one. It was known as “Hui” embroidery, and some vulgar hucksters had recently started imitating it to fool people and make a profit.

  Huiniang had been fated to die at the early age of eighteen, so that no more of her work could be obtained. Any family which possessed one or two samples only kept them as rare treasures. And then certain admirers of “Hui” embroidery among the literati declared that to call such superb work “embroidery” showed a lack of respect and failed to do justice to its beauty. After discussion they agreed not to call it “embroidery” but “art.” Hence it had now come to be known as the “Hui art” and a genuine piece was priceless. Even a wealthy family like the Jias had only acquired three pieces, two of which had been presented to the Emperor the previous year. All they had left now was this screen with sixteen panels. The Lady Dowager prized it so much that she would not display it to guests with her other ornaments. Instead, she kept it in her own apartments to enjoy when in a good mood or entertaining.

  There was also a variety of porcelain vases from old kilns filled with flowers symbolizing “The Three Companions of Winter” and “Wealth and Splendour in a Marble Hall.”

  Aunt Li and Aunt Xue took the seats of honour. To their east stood a carved openwork dragon-screen with below it a low couch spread with cushions, pillows and furs. Beside the pillows, an elegant low table of foreign lacquer with gilt designs was set out with a teapot, cups, rinse-bowls and towels as well as a spectacle-case. Here the Lady Dowager reclined to chat with the others, putting on her spectacles whenever she wanted to watch the performance.

  “My old bones are aching,” she told Aunt Xue and Aunt Li. “Excuse me if I just keep you company lying here.” She made Hupo sit beside her to massage her legs with a small pestle.

  In place of a banquet table before the couch, there stood only one tall teapoy on which were a screen,
flower-vase and incense-burner, and a small, elegant long-legged table laid with winecups, spoons and chopsticks. Baoqin, Xiangyun, Daiyu and Baoyu were told to sit at this table to share her feast; for before each dish was served to them it was shown to the old lady and, if she fancied it, left on her small table first for her to taste, then removed to the four young people’s table. So they could be regarded as sitting with the Lady Dowager. Lower down sat Lady Xing and Lady Wang; then Madam You, Li Wan, Xifeng and Jia Rong’s wife; while Baochai, Li Wen, Li Qi, Xiuyan, Yingchun and the other girls had tables on the west side.

  From the great beams on either side hung crystal, hibiscus-shaped chandeliers with coloured tassels. In front of each table was a candelabrum of Western enamel with a lacquer shade in the shape of an inverted lotus leaf; and this could be turned outwards to shade the coloured candles’ light from the feasters and illumine the stage more brightly. The lattices of the windows and doors had been removed and in their place hung gaily-tasselled Palace lanterns. From the eaves of the house, as well as the covered walks on either side, hung lanterns made of horn, glass, gauze, cut-glass or silk and paper with embroidered or painted, raised or incised designs. Jia Zhen, Jia Lian, Jia Huan, Jia Cong, Jia Rong, Jia Qin, Jia Yun, Jia Ling and Jia Chang were seated at tables in the corridors.

  The Lady Dowager had sent to invite all the members of the clan. But some were too old to enjoy lively celebrations; some had no one to mind the house for them; some were bed-ridden; some envied the rich and were ashamed of their own poverty; some disliked or feared Xifeng; some were timid and unused to company—for one reason or another they would not or could not come. Thus, large as the clan was, the only female relative to appear was Jia Jun’s mother, nee Lou, who brought her son; and the only men were Jia Qin, Jia Yun, Jia Chang and Jia Ling, all of whom worked under Xifeng. In spite of their depleted numbers, however, it was quite a merry family feast.

  And now Lin Zhixiao’s wife led in six serving-women carrying three low tables, each covered with red felt and piles of bright copper coins, fresh from the mint, strung together with red cord. Mrs. Lin had two of these tables set before Aunt Xue and Aunt Li and the other in front of the Lady Dowager, who told her where to put it. Knowing the family custom, serving-women then untied the coins and stacked them up.

  This was towards the end of the scene “Encounter in the Tower” from The West Tower, when Yu Shuye flings off in a rage. The girl playing Wenbao ad-libbed:

  “So you’re leaving in a huff. Luckily this is the fifteenth of the first month, and the Old Ancestress of the Rong Mansion is holding a family feast. I’m going to ride there as fast as I can on this horse to ask for some goodies now. That’s the thing to do.”

  This set the old lady and the whole party laughing.

  Aunt Xue exclaimed, “Clever little imp!”

  “She’s only nine,” remarked Xifeng.

  “That was smart of her,” said the Lady Dowager. “Reward the child.”

  Three serving-women, who had small baskets ready, stepped forward at this command to fill their baskets with coins from the three tables. Then going to the stage they announced:

  “Our Old Ancestress, Madam Xue and Madam Li are giving this to Wenbao to buy goodies.”

  With that they emptied their baskets and the coins scattered, clinking, all over the stage.

  Jia Zhen and Jia Lian, too, had ordered their pages in secret to bring in several crates of coins.

  To know how these were distributed, read the next chapter.

  Chapter 54

  The Lady Dowager Debunks Trite Stories

  Xifeng Clowns to Amuse Her Elders

  When Jia Zhen and Jia Lian heard the call for largesse they made their pages scatter the coins which they had prepared in advance, and the clink and jingle of money on the stage delighted the old lady. Then, as both men rose from their seats, a page brought Jia Lian a silver pot of freshly-heated wine which he carried himself as he followed Jia Zhen inside. First Jia Zhen bowed to Aunt Li and, taking her cup, turned round so that Jia Lian might fill it. He then bowed to Aunt Xue and filled her cup as well.

  The two ladies rose protesting laughingly, “Please take seats, gentlemen. Why be so formal?”

  All but Lady Xing and Lady Wang had risen from their seats and were standing by them, with their hands at their sides, to show respect. Now Jia Zhen and Jia Lian went up to the Lady Dowager’s couch and, as it was low, knelt down, Jia Zhen holding her cup and Jia Lian, behind him, the wine-pot. Although only the two of them were proposing toasts, Jia Huan and the other young men had trooped in behind them, and when these two knelt the rest fell on their knees too. Baoyu made haste to follow suit.

  “Why should you join in?” whispered Xiangyun, nudging him. “Better offer a toast yourself.”

  “I will later on,” he replied softly. Only when his cousins had risen after pouring out the wine, did he rise to his feet.

  After this toast, Jia Zhen and Jia Lian got up to pour wine for Lady Xing and Lady Wang.

  “How about our cousins?” asked Jia Zhen then.

  “Get along now and leave them in peace,” answered the ladies.

  Then Jia Zhen and the other young men withdrew.

  It was not yet the second watch. Eight scenes from Eight Gallants at the Lantern Festival were being performed, and the climax had just been reached when Baoyu rose to go out.

  “Where are you off to?” asked his grandmother. “Watch out for the fireworks outside, or you may get burnt by some of the sparks raining down.”

  “I’m not going far,” he replied. “I’ll be back soon.”

  She ordered some attendants to escort him, and he went out followed only by Sheyue, Qiuwen and a few young maids.

  “Where’s Xiren?” asked the Lady Dowager. “She must be getting above herself if she only sends the younger girls out.”

  Lady Wang rose to explain, “She couldn’t very well come, madam, because she’s newly in mourning for her mother.”

  The old lady nodded but commented, “A girl in service can’t really afford the niceties of filial piety. If she were still waiting on me, she’d hardly absent herself at this time, would she? This all comes of our leniency. Having enough servants we don’t insist on these things, so this seems to be the rule now.”

  “Even if she weren’t in mourning, we need someone in the Garden this evening to keep an eye on the fireworks and prevent accidents,” put in Xifeng quickly. “Whenever we have operas here all the other maids from the Garden sneak out to watch, but Xiren can be relied on to see to things. Besides, this means that when Baoyu goes back presently to sleep he’ll find everything ready for him. If she’d come too, the others are so thoughtless that he’d find his bedding cold on his return, no tea made and everything at sixes and sevens. That’s why I told her to stay there to look after the house and see that everything’s ready for his return. Then we here needn’t worry, while she can observe the proprieties. Isn’t that better all round? But if our Old Ancestress wants her, I’ll send for her.”

  “You’re quite right,” said the Lady Dowager. “Trust you to have thought it all out. Don’t send for her. But when did her mother die? How is it I didn’t know?”

  “Have you forgotten, madam?” Xifeng smiled. “The other day she came herself to report to you.”

  The old lady thought back and chuckled. “So she did. What a memory I have!”

  “How can Your Ladyship remember every little thing?” remarked the others laughingly.

  “She was only a child when she came to wait on me,” recalled the old lady with a sigh. “Then she waited on Xiangyun for a time, until finally I gave her to our young demon king, and what a dance she’s led her all these years! It’s not as if her parents had been our slaves or received any special kindness from us. After her mother died I meant to give her some silver for the funeral, but somehow it slipped my mind.”

  “The other day the mistress gave her forty taels, and that should have been enough,” interposed Xifeng.


  The Lady Dowager nodded.

  “That’s all right then. As it happens, Yuanyang’s mother has just died too; but because her home’s in the south I didn’t send her back for the funeral. Now they can keep each other company.” She ordered a serving-woman to take them some refreshments.

  “Yuanyang’s gone without waiting to be told,” put in Hupo with a smile.

  They went on with their feast then, still watching the opera.

  Meanwhile Baoyu had gone straight back to the Garden. And seeing that he was going to his own quarters, the nurses did not follow him but sat down by the stove in the Garden gatehouse to drink and gamble with the women in charge of making tea there.

  Baoyu found his compound brightly lit but strangely silent.

  “Can they all be in bed?” wondered Sheyue. “Let’s go in quietly and give them a fright.”

  Tiptoeing past the full-length looking-glass, they saw Xiren lying opposite someone on the kang, with two or three old serving-women dozing on the other side.

  Baoyu thought they were asleep. He was on the point of going in when he heard Yuanyang say with a sigh:

  “There’s no telling what will happen in this life. You were on your own here while your parents lived outside and were for ever travelling east and west, so no one would have expected that you’d be able to attend their death-beds. Yet this year your mother died at home and you were able to go to her funeral.”

  “Yes,” said Xiren. “I never thought I’d be able to be there when she breathed her last. And the mistress gave me forty taels too, which was a very handsome reward to her for having brought me up, and more than I dared hope for.”

  Baoyu turned to whisper to Sheyue, “I didn’t know Yuanyang was here too. If I go in, she’ll leave again in a huff. We’d better go back and leave them to chat in peace. I’m glad she came, Xiren was lonely all on her own.”

  So they slipped out quietly. Then Baoyu, stepping behind some rocks, lifted his gown.