A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  “For another thing, after I moved into the Garden that small side gate in the southeast corner was kept open for me to go through; but other people wanting to take a short cut could use it too, and there was nobody to make a check there. If trouble had come of it, it would have been awkward for both families.

  “Besides, my moving into the Garden to sleep was of no great consequence. A few years ago we were all young and I had no business at home, so I was better off here than outside, able to do needlework with the other girls and amuse myself with them—that was better than sitting idly at home by myself. Now we’ve all grown up and have our different tasks. Moreover, these years you’ve had various troubles, aunt. And the Garden is too big for you to keep an eye on everything. The fewer the people there, the less you need worry. So now I’ve not only made up my mind to move out, but I’ll venture to advise you, aunt, to cut down as far as possible, for that won’t make us lose face. It seems to me that much of this expenditure in the Garden could be avoided. After all, times have changed. You know our family well, aunt —we weren’t as badly off as this in the old days!”

  Xifeng after hearing this said to Lady Wang, “She’s right. We needn’t insist.”

  Lady Wang nodded.

  “I’ve no answer to that. Just do as you think fit.” At this point Baoyu came back with the other boys. “My father is still feasting,” he said. “As it will soon be growing dark, he told us to come home first.”

  Lady Wang hastily asked, “Did you make any gaffes today?”

  “No,” he answered with a smile. “Not only that but I’ve brought back a lot of loot.”

  Then some old serving-women fetched in from the pages at the inner gate the presents the young masters had received. Lady Wang saw these were three fans, three fan-pendants, six boxes of writing brushes and ink-tablets, three strings of scented beads and three jade rings, which Baoyu explained had been given them by Academician Mei, Vice-Minister Yang and Secretary Li—one set apiece. He then pulled a talisman, a small sandalwood Buddha, from his pocket.

  “This was a gift just for me from the Duke of Jingguo.” Lady Wang asked what guests had been there and what poems they had written, then took the three boys to pay their duty visit to the old lady, ordering the servant carrying Baoyu’s presents to accompany them.

  The Lady Dowager, delighted, inevitably cross-examined them too. Baoyu was so worried about Qingwen, however, that after answering her questions he told her that his bones ached after riding.

  “Go back quickly then,” urged the old lady. “Once you’ve changed your clothes and rested, you’ll feel better. But mind you don’t lie down.” Thereupon Baoyu hurried back to the Garden. Sheyue and Qiuwen had been waiting in the old lady’s place with two younger maids. When Baoyu left they followed him, Qiuwen carrying his presents.

  “How hot it is!” he kept complaining.

  While walking he took off his hat, belt and outer garment, which Sheyue carried for him. Baoyu was now wearing only a green satin jacket above a pair of blood-red trousers, and Qiuwen noticing that these were trousers which Qingwen had made for him heaved a sigh.

  “‘Better keep those trousers as a memento,” she said. “Really, though she’s gone her handiwork is still here.”

  “Yes, that’s Qingwen’s work,” said Sheyue, then quoted the saying: ‘“The handiwork remains though the maker’s gone.’“

  Qiuwen nudged her, saying more cheerfully:

  “Those trousers, with that green jacket and the blue boots make a vivid foil for black hair and a snow-white complexion.”

  Baoyu in front pretended not to have heard them and walked on a few paces, then stopped.

  “Is it all right if I take a stroll?” he asked.

  “What are you afraid of in broad daylight?” Sheyue answered. “You can’t get lost.” She told the two young maids to accompany him. “We’ll join you after we’ve put these things away.”

  “Won’t you wait for me here, good sister?”

  “We’ll be back soon,” Sheyue promised. “With both our hands full we’re like a regular retinue, one carrying the ‘four treasures of the study,’ one a hat, belt and garments—it looks so ridiculous!”

  As this was what Baoyu had hoped for, he let them go. He then led the two young maids behind a rockery. Without further ado he asked:

  “After I left, did Sister Xiren send anyone to see Sister Qingwen?”

  “She sent Mrs. Song,” one girl told him.

  “What did she say after she came back?”

  “She said Sister Qingwen was crying out all night. First thing this morning, she closed her eyes and stopped calling because she’d fainted away and couldn’t get a sound out, just gasping for breath.”

  “Whom was she calling all night?” he hastily asked.

  “Her mother.”

  Baoyu wiped his tears.

  “Who else?”

  “Nobody else.”

  “You silly thing, you can’t have heard her clearly.”

  The other girl by him was smarter. When she heard this she stepped forward.

  “She really is silly,” she told Baoyu. “I not only heard her clearly, I went over on the sly to see Qingwen.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Because I remembered how good Sister Qingwen always was to us—not like other people. Though she’d been unfairly treated and left, if we couldn’t find any other way to help her, we should at least go to see her to repay her former kindness. Even if we were found out and reported to the mistress, and if we got beaten for it, we’d gladly put up with that. That’s why, at the risk of a beating, I slipped over to see her. She always had intelligence, and was clear in her head right up to the time of her death. She only closed her eyes because she didn’t want to talk to those vulgar people. When she saw me, she opened her eyes and took my hand.

  “‘Where is Baoyu?’ she asked me.

  “I told her where you’d gone.

  “She sighed, ‘I shan’t be able to see him again then.’

  “‘Why not wait till he’s back?’ I asked. “Then he can see you once more, which is what you both want.’

  “She smiled and told me, ‘You don’t understand. I’m not going to die. There’s a vacancy now in heaven for a flower goddess, and the Jade Emperor has appointed me. I have orders to go to my new post at half past two; but Baoyu won’t be back till a quarter to three—too late by a quarter of an hour to see me. When people are fated to die and the King of Hell summons them, he sends small devils to fetch their spirits away. If someone wants to delay a bit he can burn paper money and serve some porridge; then while the devils are scrambling for the money, the one who’s dying can have a short reprieve. But now I mustn’t delay, as I’ve been invited by the gods in heaven.’

  “At the time. I didn’t quite believe her. But when I got back and looked carefully at the clock, it was true that she died at half past two, and at a quarter to three your return was announced. So she’d got both the times right.”

  “You don’t understand because you can’t read,” Baoyu answered. “This is absolutely true. Every single flower has its goddess, and there’s also a goddess in charge of all the flowers. I wonder whether she’s gone to take charge of them all, or of one particular flower.”

  The maid had no ready answer. As it happened to be the eighth month and hibiscus was blooming beside the pond in the Garden, she took her cue from that.

  “I asked her to let us know what flower she’d be in charge of,” she said, “so that in future we can sacrifice to her. She told me, ‘Heaven’s secrets can’t be disclosed; but as you are so pious I’ll tell you. You can let Baoyu know, but no one else—if you do, you’ll be struck dead by a thunderbolt!’ Then she told me she was in charge of the hibiscus.”

  Baoyu, far from being surprised, felt his grief turn into pleasure. He pointed at the hibiscus.

  “This flower needs a girl like her to care for it,” he observed, “I always thought that someone with her talent
s was bound to be given a responsible task.”

  But although Qingwen had departed this sea of woe, the thought that they could never meet again inevitably filled him with grief and longing.

  “Though I didn’t see her at the end,” he reflected, “I must go and sacrifice now at her shrine, for the sake of our friendship these last half dozen years.”

  Accordingly, he went straight back to change his clothes and, on the pretext of going to see Daiyu, went out of the Garden alone to the house where he had last visited Qingwen, assuming that her coffin would be there.

  However, as soon as Qingwen died, her cousin and his wife had reported this in the hope of getting some money at once for the funeral. Lady Wang on hearing this news gave them ten taels of silver and ordered them to have the body taken out of town immediately to be cremated, for as Qingwen had died of consumption it must not be kept in the vicinity. The cousin and his wife took the money, then lost no time in having her body coffined and taken to the crematorium outside the city. Her clothes and trinkets, which were worth some three or four hundred taels, they kept for future use. Then they locked up the place and went to attend her funeral.

  Baoyu, finding no one there, stood outside the door for a while; then, as there was nothing he could do, he had to return to the Garden. Back in his own rooms, he felt so depressed that he decided to call on Daiyu. However, he found she was out. When he asked where she had gone, her maids told him:

  “To Miss Baochai’s place.”

  Baoyu went then to Alpinia Park, only to find it quiet and deserted —even the furnishings had been removed. He was very much taken aback. He inquired of an old serving-woman who chanced to come along just then what had happened.

  “Miss Baochai has gone,” she informed him. “We’ve been told to look after the place until everything’s been moved away. After we’ve cleared these things away, the compound will be locked up. You’d better go now, young master, so that we can sweep up the dust. You won’t have to make any more trips here, sir, in future.”

  For a while Baoyu stood there stupefied. He saw that the fragrant herbs and creepers in the courtyard were as green and luxuriant as ever, but they suddenly seemed to have grown disconsolate too, and the sight added to his grief. He left in silence. It had struck him that for some time no one had passed the tree-lined dyke outside the gate, whereas in the old days a whole succession of maids from different quarters had kept coming here all of their own accord. Looking down, and seeing that the stream at the foot of the dyke was still flowing smoothly past, he marvelled that nature could be so lacking in feeling. After grieving awhile he reflected: “Five girls have gone, among them Siqi, Ruhua and Fangguan; and now Qingwen is dead, and Baochai’s household has left. Though Yingchun hasn’t gone yet, she’s been away these days and match-makers keep coming to arrange her marriage. It probably won’t be long before all the girls in the Garden disperse. Still, it’s no use moping over this. I may as well call on Daiyu and keep her company for a while before coming back to pass the time with Xiren. Most likely only the two or three of us will remain together till our dying day.”

  Thinking in this way, he went to Bamboo Lodge; but Daiyu was still out. He thought next of attending Qingwen’s funeral, then decided against this, guessing that it would only make him feel sadder. So he returned dejectedly to his rooms.

  He was just wondering what to do when a maid from Lady Wang came to find him.

  “The master’s back and wants you,” she announced. “He has another good subject for poetry. Go quickly. Hurry!”

  Baoyu had to accompany her to Lady Wang’s place, only to find that his father had left already. His mother ordered the servants to take him to his father’s study.

  Jia Zheng was discoursing with his secretaries on the beauty of the autumn scenery.

  “Before the last party broke up,” he remarked, “we spoke of an incident which was surely the most enchanting tale of all times. ‘Gallantry and sublimity, loyalty and magnanimity’—not one quality was missing. So it should make a fine subject for an elegiac poem. Suppose we write one?”

  His proteges promptly asked what wonderful story this was.

  “There was a certain Prince Heng who governed Qingzhou,” Jia Zheng told them. “What he loved most was feminine beauty, and when at leisure he liked to practise the military arts. So he selected a number of beautiful girls and made them train for battle every day. When at a loose end, he would feast his beauties for days and ask them to display their swordsmanship or to seize or defend a bastion. One of these girls named Lin, the fourth child of her family, was a surpassing beauty and expert too in military arts. She was known as Fourth Mistress Lin. The prince, delighted with her, put her in command of all the other girls and called her his ‘Lovely General’.”

  The secretaries all exclaimed in wonder.

  “‘Lovely’ followed by ‘General’—what a very gallant and romantic title! This is really miraculous. Prince Heng himself must have been the most romantic figure of all time!”

  Jia Zheng smiled.

  “Quite so. But what followed is even more amazing and heart-rending.”

  His proteges all asked eagerly, “What was that?”

  “The next year the Yellow Turbans, Red Brows: and other rebels joined forces to raid the region east of the Taihang Mountains. The prince, thinking them rabble who did not need to be taken seriously, led a light force to wipe them out. However, those rebels were crafty. His forces lost two battles, and the prince was killed by the rebels. Then all the civil and military officers in the provincial capital said to each other: ‘“If even the prince could not beat them, what can we do?’

  “They wanted to surrender. But Fourth Mistress Lin hearing this bad news assembled her women soldiers and announced:

  “‘We were shown such favour by the prince in the past that we shall never be able to repay a fraction of it. Now that he has fallen in defence of the royal cause, I want to die for him too. Any of you who wish to follow me may—the rest are free to leave.’

  “When the other women saw how determined she was, they all volunteered to join her. So that same night Fourth Mistress Lin led them out of the city to attack the rebels’ camp. The rebels were caught unawares and several of their chieftains were killed. Then seeing that their opponents were only a few women whom they reckoned couldn’t amount to much, they counter-attacked and after some hard fighting killed them all, including Fourth Mistress Lin. And so she succeeded in proving her loyalty. When this was reported to the capital the Emperor and all his ministers were shocked and moved and naturally sent troops to crush the rebels. As soon as the Imperial troops arrived, the rebellion was suppressed—we need not go into that.

  “But, gentlemen, after hearing this story of Fourth Mistress Lin, don’t you think it admirable!”

  “Truly admirable and amazing!” exclaimed his secretaries. “This is really a wonderful subject. We should all write something to commemorate her.”

  One of them had already picked up a brush and written a short preface based on Jia Zheng’s account simply changing a few words. He now handed this to his patron to read.

  “That’s the idea,” said Jia Zheng. “Actually, a short account has already been written. The other day an Imperial Decree was issued ordering a search to be made for all those who should have been commended but were left out of past records, whether monks, nuns, beggars or women, as long as they had performed some worthy deed. The accounts were to be sent to the Board of Rites for the Emperor’s approval. So this account was sent to the Board of Rites. And after hearing this story, you should all write a poem on the Lovely General’s loyalty and sense of honour.”

  “So we should,” they all agreed, laughing. “And what’s still more admirable is the fact that our dynasty is showing such unprecedented kindness, unmatched in earlier times. The men of Tang said, ‘Our sagacious court overlooks nothing,’ and this has come true today. Our dynasty lives up to this prediction.”

  Jia Zheng no
dded.

  “Exactly.”

  As they were speaking, Huan and Lan arrived, and Jia Zheng told them to look at the subject. Though both of them, like Baoyu, could write poetry, this was not their special line. When it came to writing examination papers, Huan and Lan might surpass Baoyu; but when it came to literature in general, they were much inferior. Besides, they lacked Baoyu’s literary brilliance and poetic flair. Thus the poems they wrote were like eight-section essays, inevitably stereotyped and pedantic.

  Baoyu, though not to be reckoned a good scholar, had innate intelligence and loved to browse on literature of all kinds. He believed that some ancient classics were apocryphal and contained errors too, thus they should not be taken for gospel; moreover, if one had too many scruples and just stuck together phrases from old books, such writing would be most uninteresting. These being his views, when he saw a subject for poetry—whether difficult or easy—he would write on it effortlessly, just as glib talkers having nothing to go on rely on their ready tongues to hold forth at random, spinning lengthy yarns which though they have no basis in fact delight all those who hear them. Even strict sticklers for the truth cannot beat such entertaining fantasies.

  Jia Zheng, growing old now, no longer hankered after fame and profit; besides, by temperament, he was fond of poetry, wine and liberal talk. Although he felt constrained to guide his sons and nephews along the right path, when he saw that Baoyu albeit not fond of study had some understanding of poetry, he decided that this did not really disgrace their ancestors; for they themselves, he recalled, had been the same and though working hard for the examinations had never distinguished themselves—apparently this was the Jia family’s destiny. Moreover, his mother doted on this grandson. So Jia Zheng did not insist too much on Baoyu working for the examinations and had recently treated him more leniently. And he wished that Huan and Lan, apart from writing eight-section essays, would follow Baoyu’s example. This was why, whenever they were composing poetry, he would summon all three boys together to write. But enough of this.