by Cao Xueqin
At sight of him she pulled up.
“Why are you here?” she asked. “Hurry up and stop Qingwen from spanking me!”
As she was speaking they heard a clattering as if some things had fallen to the ground, and the next minute Qingwen appeared.
“Where are you going, you bitch?” she swore. “You’ve lost, yet you want to escape a spanking. With Baoyu out who’s going to come to your rescue?”
Baoyu hastily intercepted her.
“She’s still young,” he said with a smile. “If she’s offended you in some way, do let her off for my sake.”
Qingwen had never expected him back so soon. Amused by his sudden appearance, she exclaimed, “Fangguan must be a fox-fairy! Why, not even a magic charm to conjure spirits could work so fast.” She added, “But I’m not afraid, even if you’ve called in a god.”
She made a grab at Fangguan, who had taken refuge behind Baoyu. Holding each girl by the hand he led them inside. On the western kang there he found Sheyue, Qiuwen, Bihen and Zixiao playing knuckle-bones for melon-seeds. Apparently Fangguan had lost to Qingwen, then refused to accept a spanking and run away; and Qingwen, jumping up to chase her, had scattered the knuckle-bones on her lap all over the floor.
Baoyu told them with a chuckle. “Now the days are so long, I was afraid you might all be bored while I was out and go to bed after your meal, which might make you fall ill, I’m glad you found a way to amuse yourselves.” As there was no sign of Xiren, he asked, “Where’s your sister Xiren?”
“Her?” said Qingwen. “She’s becoming more and more of a Confucian, sitting meditating alone with her face to the wall in the inner room. We haven’t been in for some time and don’t know what she’s up to. She hasn’t made a sound. Go on in, quick, and see if she’s attained sainthood yet.”
Laughing, Baoyu went inside and saw Xiren seated on the couch by the window, in her hand a skein of grey silk which she was netting. At sight of him she stood up. “What fibs has that creature Qingwen been telling about me?” she asked. “I was in a hurry to finish this net and had no time to fool around with them, so I told them, ‘You amuse yourselves. While the Second Master’s out I want to sit quietly here for a while to rest.’ Then she made up all that nonsense about me meditating and attaining sainthood. By and by I must go and pinch her lips!”
Baoyu smiled as he sat down beside her to watch her at work.
“The days are so long, you should rest or amuse yourself with the others,” he advised. “Or else go to see Cousin Daiyu. Why work at this in such hot weather? What’s it for?”
“I noticed that you’re still using the fan case made that year when Madam Rong of the East Mansion died. As it’s blue it should only be used while mourning in summer for one of our clan or for relatives and friends outside. It shouldn’t normally be needed more than once or twice a year. Now there’s mourning in the other house, of course you should wear it every day when you go over; so I’m hurrying to finish another for you to replace that old one. You don’t care about such things, but if the old lady were to come back and see it, she’d scold us for being too lazy to fit you out properly.”
“It’s good of you to think of such things, but you mustn’t overwork,” he answered. “We don’t want you knocked out by the heat.”
Now Fangguan brought in a cup of freshly brewed tea which had been cooled in cold water; for even in summer they dared not use ice, as Baoyu was so delicate. Instead they immersed the tea-pot in water fresh from the well, changing the water from time to time until the tea was cool. Fangguan held the cup to Baoyu’s lips and he drank half of it.
Then he told Xiren, “When I came, I left word with Beiming that if any important visitors come to Cousin Jia Zhen’s place he must let me know directly. If nothing urgent crops up I won’t go back.” As he turned to go out he instructed Bihen and the others, “If anything happens you can find me in Miss Lin’s place. “With that he set off for Bamboo Lodge to find Daiyu.
As he was crossing Seeping Fragrance Bridge he saw Xueyan approaching, behind her two old women who were carrying caltrops, lotus-root, melons and other fruit.
“Your mistress hardly ever eats cold things like these. What are you going to do with all this?” he asked. “Are you inviting some of the other young ladies?”
“If I tell you, you mustn’t let her know,” said Xueyan. Baoyu nodded.
Then she told the two women, “Take this fruit to Sister Zijuan. If she asks for me, tell her I’ve something to do and will soon be back.”
The women assented and went on their way. “Our young lady’s been feeling better the last few days,” said Xueyan when they had gone. “After lunch today Miss Tanchun came to ask her to go with her to see Madam Lian, but she didn’t go. And then—I don’t know what she was thinking of—she had a fit of depression, after which she took up her brush and wrote something—whether poetry of something else I don’t know. When she sent me to fetch this fruit I also heard her tell Zijuan to clear away the things on the small lyre table and move it outside, then to put the tripod with dragon designs on the table ready for the melons and fruit. If she were going to entertain visitors, she wouldn’t bother to set out an incense-burner first; if she were going to burn incense, she’s not in the habit of scenting her clothes with it or having anything in the room except fresh flowers and fruit. Even when she does burn incense for the fragrance, it’s usually in her sitting room or bedchamber. Could it be that She has to scent the place with incense because the old serving-women have made it smelly? I really don’t know why else she’s doing this.” Having said this she hurried away.
Baoyu involuntarily lowered his head to think this over. “Judging by what Xueyan said, there must be a reason,” he thought. “If Daiyu were expecting one of the girls to call, she’d hardly make such elaborate preparations. Can this be the anniversary of her father’s or mother’s death? But in the past, on those days, I remember the old lady always had dishes specially prepared for her to offer as a private sacrifice; and both those dates have passed. More likely, as the seventh month is the season for melons and fruit and every family is making an autumn sacrifice at its graves, she’s felt moved to sacrifice privately in her own quarters, according to the precept in the Book of Rites that in autumn and spring one should offer the food in season. That may be it.
“But if I go there now and find her upset, I shall have to do my best to comfort her; then she may try to hide her unhappiness, so that it rankles. On the other hand, if I don’t go, there’ll be no one to stop her grieving too much. Either way, she may fall ill. The best thing would be to call on Xifeng first, just for a short while, then come back. If I find Daiyu still upset I can try to console her. That way, she won’t give way to grief too long, but by having a good cry she’ll have vented her feelings without injuring her health.”
Having reached this decision he left the Garden and went to Xifeng’s place. A number of serving-women were coming out after having reported on the business in their charge, and Xifeng, leaning against the door, was chatting with Pinger. At sight of Baoyu she smiled.
“So you’re back,” she said. “I’ve just told Lin Zhixiao’s wife to send word to your pages that if there was nothing much to do you should take the chance to come back and rest a bit. Besides, with all that crowd there, the place is too stifling for you. Well, I’m glad you’ve come back of your own accord.”
“Thank you for your concern,” he answered. “It was because there was nothing to do today and I was wondering whether you were better, as you hadn’t been over for a couple of days, that I came back to have a look.”
“That’s just the way it is with me,” Xifeng told him. “I have my good days and my bad days. With Their Ladyships away from home, these women — ail—not a single one of them behaves herself. Every day they either fight or squabble, and there’ve even been several cases of gambling and theft. Although Tanchun’s helping me see to things, she’s an unmarried girl. There are some things I can tell her, others
I can’t. So I just have to bear up as best I can, and never have a moment’s peace. Don’t talk about getting better—if I don’t get worse that’s good enough do you mean by coming to provoke her again?”
Baoyu wiped his tears and smiled.
“I wouldn’t dream of provoking her,” he protested, getting up to wander around.
He noticed a sheet of paper under the inkstone and reached out for it. At once Daiyu started up to stop him, but he had already tucked it inside his clothes.
“Do let me see it, dear cousin,” he begged with a smile.
“Regardless of when you come you ransack this place.”
As Daiyu was saying this Baochai dropped in.
“What is it that Cousin Bao wants to read?” she asked.
As Baoyu had not vet seen what was on the paper and did not know quiet, feminine accomplishments being secondary. As for versifying and the like, we simply do that for fun in the inner apartments; and whether we’re good or not at it doesn’t matter. Girls from families like ours don’t want to have a reputation for brilliance.” Then she said to Daiyu with a smile, “Still it doesn’t matter if you show them to me, provided Cousin Bao doesn’t take them outside.”
“In that case you needn’t see them either,” said Daiyu. Pointing at Baoyu she added, “He’s already snatched them.”
At that Baoyu took the poems out of his pocket and stepped to Baochai’s side to read them with her. The poems were as follows:
XI SHI
Gone with the foam the beauty who felled cities,
Her longing for home in Wu’s palace an empty dream,
Laugh not at the East Village girl who aped her ways,
White-haired, she still washed clothes beside the stream.
LADY YU
Heart-broken as black steed neighing at night in the wind,
In silent grief she stayed beside her lord;
The renegades Qing Bu and Peng Yue were doomed to be slaughtered;
Better, then, in Chu’s tent to fall on her own sword.
WANGZHAOJUN
A breath-taking beauty banished from the Han palace—
From of old lovely girls have shared a sorry fate;
Even if the sovereign set little store by his beauties,
Why give a painter the power to arbitrate?
GREEN PEARL
Rubble and pearls alike were cast away,
Shi Chong used this fair maid so slightingly;
Predestined he was to good fortune—
Together they died, but still lonely in death was she.
RED WHISK
From his low bows, proud talk and air of distinction
The discerning beauty his true worth foretold;
The grand duke Yang Su was a living corpse,
How could he keep a girl so staunch and bold?
Baoyu having read these poems was loud in his praise. “You’ve written just five poems, cousin,” he said. “So why not call the whole An Ode to Five Beauties?” Without giving her time to object, he picked up a brush and added this title.
Baochai observed, “In writing poetry, no matter what the subject, the important thing is to express some original ideas. If we tread in other people’s footsteps, even if the lines are polished they’re still second-rate and can’t be considered good poetry.
“Take, for example, the poems on Wang Zhaojun, all expressing different opinions. Some lamented her fate, some blamed Mao Yanshou the painter, and others reproached the Han emperor for making him paint portraits of palace beauties instead of good ministers. Then Wang Anshi wrote:
A painting can never succeed in catching the spirit;
Unjust it was to execute Mao Yanshou.
And Ouyang Xiu wrote:
If the Emperor treated those in his presence like this.
How could he control tribesmen ten thousand li away?
Both those poems were original, not mere plagiarizing. And these five Cousin Lin has written today can also be considered as fresh and original, a quite new approach to the subject.”
She would have said more, but someone came in to announce Jia Lian’s return. It had just been reported outside that he had gone to the East Mansion, and as he had now been there for some time he could be expected back soon. When Baoyu heard this he hastily got up and went to the main gate to wait for his cousin’s arrival, just as Jia Lian, having dismounted outside, came in. Baoyu knelt down and first asked after Their Ladyships’ health, then inquired after Jia Lian’s health. The two of them went hand in hand into the hall, where they found assembled Li Wan, Xifeng, Baochai, Daiyu, Yingchun, Tanchun and Xichun, and greetings were exchanged.
“The old lady will be back tomorrow morning,” said Jia Lian. “She’s kept very well all through the journey. Today she sent me back ahead to have a look, and I’m to go out of the city at the fifth watch tomorrow to meet her.”
Next they questioned him about the journey and then, as he was just back from such a long trip, took their leave and left him to go home to rest. No need to go into details about that evening.
About noon the next day, sure enough, the old lady, Lady Wang and others arrived. After the whole family had paid their respects they sat down just long enough for a cup of tea, then escorted Lady Wang and the others to the Ning Mansion. They heard loud wailing inside; for as soon as Jia Bin and Jia Guang had brought the Lady Dowager home they had come over, and Jia She and other members of the clan had come out to meet the old lady, shedding tears. Jia Bin and Jia Guang, each holding her by one arm, helped her to the shrine while Jia Zhen and Jia Rong approached on their knees and threw themselves into her arms, wailing bitterly. At this sight the old lady clasped them to her and gave way to a storm of grief, until finally Jia She, Jia Lian and the others prevailed on her to stop weeping. She then went to the right side of the shrine to see Madam You and her daughter-in-law, and inevitably as they embraced they started wailing again. When these lamentations were over, the others went forward to pay their respects in turn. As the Lady Dowager had just come home and had as yet had no time to rest, Jia Zhen, afraid that sitting there watching this scene would distress her too much, urged her repeatedly to go back. Lady Wang and others added their .persuasions, and the old lady had to comply.
Indeed, on account of her age, she succumbed to her grief and the fatigue of the journey. That night she had a headache, a pain in her chest and sore throat, and found difficulty in breathing. A doctor was hastily summoned to feel her pulse and prescribe medicine, so that everyone was kept busy half the night. Luckily the cold was staved off, and the viscera proved to have been unaffected. And when at midnight she perspired a little her temperature went down and her pulse returned to normal, to everybody’s relief. The following day she took more medicine and rested.
A few days later it was time for Jia Jing’s coffin to be taken to the temple. As the old lady was still not completely recovered, she kept Baoyu at home to keep her company. And Xifeng, not being too well, did not go either. Jia She, Jia Lian, Lady Xing, Lady Wang and the rest, accompanied by their stewards and serving-women, escorted the coffin to Iron Threshold Temple, not getting home till the evening. As for Jia Zhen, Madam You and Jia Rong, they stayed in the temple to keep vigil. After a hundred days the coffin would be taken to their ancestral district; in the meantime the Ning Mansion was left in the charge of old Mrs. You and her two daughters.
Now Jia Lian had long heard of Madam You’s lovely step-sisters and longed to meet them. Recently, with Jia Jing’s coffin in the house, he had been seeing Second Sister and Third Sister every day so that he was on familiar terms with them and had designs on them too. Knowing how free and easy both girls were with Jia Zhen and Jia Rong, he tried in a hundred ways to convey his own feelings, casting arch glances at them. Third Sister only treated him coolly, however, while Second Sister appeared very interested; but since there were so many people about he could not make any advances. Fear of arousing Jia Zhen’s jealousy also kept him from acting too rashly. So the two
of them had to be content with a secret understanding.
After the funeral, however, there were few people left in Jia Zhen’s house. The main quarters were occupied only by old Mrs. You and her two daughters attended by a few of the maids and serving-women who did the rough work, all the senior maids and concubines having gone to the temple. As for the female servants who lived outside, they simply kept watch at night and minded the gate in the daytime, and would not go inside unless they had business. So Jia Lian was eager to make good use of this chance. He spent the nights in the temple too, on the pretext of keeping Jia Zhen company; but he often slipped back to the Ning Mansion to inveigle Second Sister, telling Jia Zhen that he was going to see to the family affairs for him.
One day the young steward Yu Lu came to report to Jia Zhen, “The funeral sheds, mourning clothes and blue uniforms for attendants and carriers cost a thousand taels in all, of which we’ve paid five hundred; so we’re still five hundred short, and the tradesmen have sent to ask for payment. That’s why I’ve come for your instructions, sir.”
“Just get the money from the treasury. Why come and ask me for it?” said Jia Zhen.
“I did go to the treasury yesterday,” Yu Lu replied. “But since His Lordship’s demise there have been all sorts of expenses, and the money on hand is being kept for the hundred days’ masses and for use in the temple; so for the moment they can’t issue me any. That’s why I’ve come specially to report to you. Perhaps this sum could be taken from the inner treasury for the time being, or raised some other way. Just give me your orders and I’ll carry them out.”
