A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  In the hope that her immortal spirit may descend here, I offer my poor composition for her compassionate ears. And here is the song to summon her spirit:

  Grey, grey is the sky!

  Are you riding a jade dragon in the void?

  Vast, vast is the earth!

  Are you descending in jade and ivory carriage?

  So bright and sparkling your canopy—

  Is it the radiance from the zodiac’s tail?

  Are there coloured plumes leading the way

  And on either side constellations?

  Are you escorted by the God of Clouds,

  Approaching with the Courier God of the Moon?

  I hear the creaking of your carriage wheels—

  Are you coming in a phoenix equipage?

  I smell a subtle fragrance—

  Are you wearing scented herbs?

  Sparkling the light from your skirt—

  Have you carved the bright moon for your pendant?

  On an altar of luxuriant orchid leaves

  I bum scented oil in lotus lamps.

  And pour you osmanthus wine

  In goblets of gourds.

  Gazing intently through the cloudy air

  I seem to glimpse some vision;

  Bending over the depth to listen,

  Methinks I catch a sound.

  Can you, roaming through boundless space,

  Bear abandoning me in the dust?

  If I beg the God of Wind to drive my carriage,

  May I hope to ride with you?

  Wrathful is my heart,

  But what use is it lamenting?

  You are resting now in peace;

  Is it destiny that has thus changed my life?

  Tranquil you sleep in your secluded vault;

  Can you leave it to change once more?

  I remain enfettered here.

  Ah, spirit, will you come at my call?

  Are you approaching or tarrying?

  Come, I implore you!

  Since you live in the silent unknown, even if you approach me my eyes-cannot see you. With ivy as your screen, rush-swords as your retinue, you rouse the willows to open their drowsy eyes and dispel the bitterness in lotus seeds. Met by the Goddess of Music at Cassia Cliff, you are welcomed by the Goddess of the River Luo at Orchid Isle; Nong Yu plays the flute and Han Huang sounds the clapper to summon the Queen of Mount Song and the Dowager of Mount Li. The Divine Tortoise manifests itself in the River Luo, wild beasts dance to the melody Xianchi, dragons sing below the Red Stream, and phoenixes alight at the Pearl Forest.

  I am sacrificing with sincerity, caring little what sacrificial vessels I am using.

  Setting out in your chariot from the City of Bright Morning Clouds, you return with your banners to the Hanging Garden. One moment your form seems faintly visible, the next it is suddenly blotted out by mist. The clouds and mist converge, then part again; fog and rain obscure the sky; then the mist withdraws, high above gleam stars, and the moon in mid sky brightens the hills and streams.

  My heart is beating fast, like one just waking from a dream. I weep with longing and shed tears, not knowing where to go. All human voices are hushed; the only sounds are the rustling of bamboo, birds taking wing in fright, fish blowing bubbles....

  In my grief I invoke you and, these rites at an end, look for some sign.

  Ah, may your spirit come to the sacrifice!”

  After chanting this he burned the silk and poured a libation of tea, still reluctant to leave the place. The young maid had to urge him several times before he turned away. Then, abruptly, they heard laughter behind some rocks.

  “Please wait a bit!” cried a voice.

  The two of them gave a start. And the maid looking back, saw a figure emerging from behind the hibiscus blooms.

  “Help! A ghost!” she cried. “Qingwen’s spirit has really come!”

  Baoyu in fright turned to look too.

  To know whether or not it was a ghost, read the next chapter.

  Chapter 79

  Xue Pan Marries a Fierce Lioness and Repents Too Late

  Yingchun Is Wrongly Wedded to an Ungrateful Wolf

  Baoyu, after sacrificing to Qingwen, was startled to hear a voice from the shade of the flowers. Stepping forward to investigate, he found it was no other than Daiyu.

  “What an original funeral ode!” she teased, smiling all over her face. “It deserves to be passed down with that epitaph commemorating Cao E, the filial daughter.”

  Baoyu blushed.

  “The usual run of funeral odes seem to me so stereotyped,” he explained, “I tried to use a new form. It was just for fun; I never thought you’d hear it. If it won’t do, why don’t you suggest some improvements?”

  “Where is your draft? I must read it carefully. I didn’t hear the whole long piece, only the two lines:

  The young lordling behind red gauze curtains is filled with longing

  For the ill-fated maid in her mound of yellow earth.

  That’s a felicitous couplet, except that ‘red gauze curtains’ is rather trite. There are real-life images ready at hand—why not use one of those?”

  He hastily asked what she meant.

  “We all have rosy-cloud gauze pasted on latticed windows nowadays,” she replied. “Why not say ‘Under madder-gauze window, a young lording filled with longing’?”

  Baoyu stamped his foot in approval.

  “Excellent! Just the thing!” he exclaimed. “Trust you to think up such a phrase. It shows there are plenty of good ready-made scenes and images from olden days down to the present, but stupid fools can’t trot them out or recall them. Still, though this is a marvellous change you’ve made, it describes the place where you live—it’s too good for me.” He disclaimed over and over, “I am unworthy!”

  Daiyu laughed.

  “What does it matter? My window can be your window. Why must you draw such distinctions as if we were strangers? In ancient times, even strangers sometimes shared the same horse and fur coat without worrying if they got spoilt; and look how much closer we are.”

  “Among friends one shouldn’t be stingy even with gold and jade, to say nothing of horses and furs,” he agreed. “Still, disrespect to a lady is quite out of the question. So I’ll tell you what, I may as well change the ‘lordling’ and ‘maid’ and make it your lament for her— that would be better. Besides, you used to be very good to her too. I’d rather scrap the whole thing than give up this new ‘madder-gauze’ image. So suppose we change it to:

  Below the madder-gauze window, a young lady filled with longing;

  Under the yellow mound, her ill-fated maid.

  Though this new version has nothing to do with me, I’m just as satisfied with it.”

  “But she wasn’t my maid, so how can you say that? Besides, ‘young lady’ and ‘maid’ lack elegance. Wait till my Zijuan dies, it won’t be too late for me to use that phrase then.”

  Baoyu laughed.

  “Why bring bad luck on her with such talk?”

  “It was your idea, not mine.”

  “I know what. Here’s a more appropriate change. Let’s say:

  Below the madder-gauze window, I have no good fortune;

  Under the yellow mound, how ill-fated you are!”

  Daiyu abruptly turned pale, filled with misgivings by these ominous words. But instead of disclosing this she smiled and nodded.

  “That really is a change for the better. Don’t make any more alterations, but go quickly now to see to your proper business. Just now your mother sent word that first thing tomorrow you’re to go to your Aunt Xing’s place. Your Second Sister’s been chosen by some family; so probably they want you to go over when those people call to make a formal request for her hand.”

  “What’s the hurry? I’m not feeling too well, I may not be up to going over tomorrow,” he said, clapping his hands.

  “There you go again! Take my advice and stop being so wayward. You’re not a child any more....”

/>   As she spoke, she started coughing.

  “The wind’s cold here,” he put in hastily. “It’s silly to stay standing here. Do hurry back.”

  “I’m going home to rest. See you tomorrow.”

  With that Daiyu started back, and Baoyu was turning back listlessly too when it occurred to him that Daiyu had no one to escort her; so he hastily told the young maid to see her home. When he reached Happy Red Court, sure enough Lady Wang had sent a nanny to tell him to go to Jia She’s place the next morning, as Daiyu had just told him.

  Jia She had promised Yingchun to a family named Sun from Datong Prefecture, one of whose ancestors, a military officer, had been taken as a pupil by the Jias; thus both families could be considered as friends of long standing. The only Sun now in the capital was a police commissioner named Sun Shaozu, not yet thirty. A big man with a powerful physique, he was a good archer and horseman and well versed in the ways of society. His family was rich, and he was now waiting for some better appointment when some vacancy should occur in the Ministry of War. As he was not yet married and the Suns were old friends, and as moreover his appearance and estate were suitable, Jia She approved of him and had chosen him to be his son-in-law.

  When he reported this to the Lady Dowager, she was not too pleased. However, she felt that if she raised objections he might not listen, and that young people’s marriages were decreed by Heaven; besides, as this was Yingchun’s own father’s decision, why should she be officious? So she just said, “I see,” with no further comment.

  Jia Zheng, however, had a deep aversion to the Suns, for although their families had long been connected this was simply because Sun’s grandfather, wanting to make use of the Jias’ influence to settle some private troubles, had formally acknowledged them as his teachers. They were not a family of well known literati. Hence Jia Zheng advised against the match once or twice, but desisted when Jia She paid no attention.

  Baoyu had never set eyes on this Sun Shaozu, so the next day he had to go over for courtesy’s sake to meet him. When he heard that the wedding would soon be taking place, that Yingchun would be going to her new home within the year and that Lady Xing and others had asked the old lady’s permission to take her out of the Garden, he grew more and more dismayed. Often lost in thought, he did not know what to do. And now the news that Yingchun would be taking four maids with her when she married made him stamp his feet.

  “That’ll be five less clean people in the world!” he sighed. He took to going every day to wander around Purple Caltrop Isle. He found the lodge there quiet and deserted, with only a few old women in charge of the place at night. Even the reeds and smartweed on the bank and the caltrops and water-weeds in the pool had a disconsolate look, as if longing for their old friends, not flaunting their autumn splendour as before. Struck by this scene of desolation, he could not contain his feelings but then and there made up a song which he chanted as follows:

  “A pool at night; the chilly autumn wind

  The red-jade shadows of caltrop apart has tossed;

  Smartweed and caltrop are overcome by grief,

  Their slender stems weighed down by dew and frost.

  No more the chess-men clatter all day long,

  The board by swallow droppings is defiled.

  The men of old longed for departed friends,

  Much more so I—your kinsman since a child.”

  Baoyu had just declaimed this when he heard a laughing voice behind him call:

  “Are your wits wandering again?”

  Looking over his shoulder he saw that it was Xiangling. He turned with a smile to ask her:

  “What are you doing here, sister? You haven’t come to the Garden to stroll for days.”

  Xiangling clapped her hands.

  “It’s not that I didn’t want to,” she cried gaily. “But now that your Cousin Pan is back, I’m no longer free to do whatever I please. Just now our mistress sent to find your Cousin Xifeng; but she wasn’t at home and they said she’d come to the Garden. When I heard that, I asked for this errand and came to look for her. One of her maids whom I met told me she’s in Paddy-Sweet Cottage, so I was on my way there when I came across you. Tell me: Is Sister Xiren keeping well these days? What carried off Sister Qingwen so suddenly? Just what illness did she have? And why did Miss Yingchun move out so quickly? See how empty this place has become!”

  Baoyu answered her queries as quickly as he could, then invited her to Happy Red Court for some tea.

  “I’ve no time just now,” said Xiangling. “I’ll come after I’ve found Madam Lian and delivered my message.”

  “What business is this that’s so urgent?”

  “It’s to do with your Cousin Pan’s wedding, that’s why it’s urgent.”

  “Tell me, which family is she from after all? They’ve been debating it for half a year: one day it was to be the Zhangs, next the Lis, then the Wangs. What wrong have the girls in those families done to deserve so much talk about them?”

  “Well, it’s settled now,” Xiangling told him. “No other families need be dragged in.”

  “Which family has been settled on?”

  “Last time your cousin went on a business trip, he called on some relatives on the way. They’ve been related to us since way back and are also registered in the Board of Revenue as purchasing agents for the court—they’re one of the wealthiest families around. When the mistresses were chatting the Other day, it turned out that your two mansions know this family too. The whole capital, from nobles down to tradesmen, all call that family the Osmanthus Xias.”

  “How did they get that name?”

  “Well, their surname is Xia, and they are rolling in wealth. Apart from other landed property, they have several hundred acres growing nothing but osmanthus trees. They own all the shops in the capital selling osmanthus, and they supply the Palace too with all those needed for display. That’s how they came by this name. Now old Mr. Xia is dead; his widow lives with her daughter and there are no sons—it’s too bad that their male branch has died out.”

  “Never mind that,” said Baoyu. “What’s the girl like? How did he come to take a fancy to her?”

  “It’s partly fate, and partly a case of ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’ In the old days the two families were on close terms and as children they played together. Since they rank as cousins, they didn’t have to avoid each other according to the rules of propriety. And though they hadn’t met for so many years, as soon as he visited her family old Mrs. Xia, having no son herself, struck by your cousin’s good looks shed tears of joy, more delighted than if he had been her own son. She presented the two young people to each other. Well, the girl who’d grown up as pretty as a flower was taught to read and write at home; so your cousin made up his mind then and there. The Xia family entertained him for three or four days, and those old pawnshop assistants of his as well, pressing them to stay even longer, and only letting them leave when they absolutely insisted.

  “As soon as your cousin got home, he pestered our mistress to ask for the girl’s hand. As she had seen the girl and the two families were well matched, she agreed. She talked it over with your mother and Madam Lian, then sent someone to propose the marriage, and it was immediately settled. Only there’s so little time left before the wedding that we’re rushed off our feet. The sooner she comes the better, I say. Then we shall have one extra poetess!” Baoyu smiled wanly. “Still, I’m rather worried for you.”

  Xiangling flushed.

  “What a thing to say! We’ve always treated each other with respect, but now you’re suddenly talking like this—the idea! No wonder everyone says it’s no good being too familiar with you.”

  She turned then and went off.

  Baoyu was very much put out. He stood there in a daze for a while, his thoughts wandering, shedding tears, then returned dejectedly to Happy Red Court.

  He passed an uneasy night. In his dreams he called for Qingwen or ad frightening nightmares which gave him no peace. Th
e next day he had no appetite and ran a fever, all because of the recent happenings—the search of the Garden, the dismissal of Siqi, the departure of Yingchun and the death of Qingwen—which had filled him with mortification, dread and grief. And on top of that he had caught cold, so now he fell ill and was confined to his bed.

  When the Lady Dowager heard this, she came daily in person to see him. Lady Wang regretted having scolded him too sharply on Qingwen’s account, but she gave no outward sign of her remorse, simply ordering the nurses to look after him well and sending doctors twice a day to examine him and prescribe medicine.

  Not until a month had passed did Baoyu begin to recover. He was told to convalesce for a hundred days, touch no greasy food and not stir out of his rooms. During this whole period he was not even allowed to go to the gate of his court, but only to amuse himself indoors. After forty of fifty days spent in this way he felt ready to burst from boredom— how could he put up with this? But plead as he might, the old lady and Lady Wang were adamant, and he simply had to accept the situation. So he fooled about with the maids in every conceivable way.

  One day he heard that Xue Pan was giving a feast and opera show to celebrate his wedding, and the party was uncommonly lively. Told that this young lady from the Xia family was a beauty with literary accomplishments too, he longed to go over then and there to see her.

  Some days later he heard that Yingchun’s marriage had taken place and grieved deeply that he had been unable to see her off, reflecting that he and his girl cousins had always been together, but were they to meet again after this separation they could not be as intimate as before. He found it thoroughly exasperating being unable to go and see them now. However, he had to be patient and amuse himself with his maids.