A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  “Excuse me for neglecting you,” she said.

  “Always so polite, cousin!” he chuckled.

  He noticed now that Daiyu was wearing a pale-blue embroidered fur-lined jacket under a short white squirrel tunic, and a pink embroidered silk padded skirt of the kind worn by Lady Yang. With no flowers in her cloudy tresses, which were loosely knotted and clasped with a flat gold pin, she was truly like:

  A jade tree standing gracefully in the breeze.

  Or sweet dewy lotus in bloom.

  “Have you been playing the lute these days, cousin?” he asked. “Not for the last two days, because I found copying made my fingers too cold.”

  “It’s just as well not to play. Though the lute is a refined instrument, I don’t think much of it. No one ever won wealth, nobility or long life from playing it, only grief and longing. Besides, to play, you have to memorize the score which is rather an effort. As you’re so delicate, cousin, it seems to me you shouldn’t waste energy on it.”

  Daiyu simply smiled and said nothing.

  Then, pointing at a lute on the wall, he asked, “Is this yours? Why is it so short?”

  “Because when I first learned to play, being small I couldn’t reach the strings of regular lutes, so this was specially made for me. Though it’s not anything exceptional, its parts are well fitted and it’s well proportioned. See the grain of the wood. Isn’t it as fine as yak hair? So it has quite a clear timbre.”

  “Have you written any poems these days?”

  “Hardly any since the last poetry club.”

  Baoyu smiled and said, “Don’t try to hide it from me! I heard you chanting something like ‘Why repine? Would that my heart were pure as the moon in the sky.’ You accompanied it on the lute, and the sound seemed exceptionally clear. Can you deny that?”

  “How did you happen to hear?”

  “I heard it the other day on my way back from Smartweed Breeze Cot, and not wanting to disturb you I just listened quietly then went away. I’ve been meaning to ask you: Why did you start with level rhymes, then at the end change suddenly to an oblique one? What was the reason for that?”

  “Music comes naturally from the heart,” she answered. “There are no set rules—you just play as you feel.”

  “So that’s the reason. It’s too bad I don’t understand music and so it was wasted on me.”

  “How many understanding people have there been since of old?” she replied.

  At that, Baoyu realized that he had been tactless, and feared he had hurt her feelings. He sat there with so much he longed to say, yet not knowing how to word it. Daiyu also felt that her last remark had been thoughtless, and must have sounded cold; so she too was silent. This convinced Baoyu that she took this personally, and he rose sheepishly to say:

  “I’ll leave you to rest now, cousin. I’m off to see Tanchun.”

  “When you see her, give her my regards.” He agreed to this and went out.

  After seeing him off, Daiyu came back and sat down dejectedly. “Nowadays Baoyu talks in such an ambiguous way, blowing hot and cold by turns, I can’t tell what he means,” she thought.

  Just then Zijuan came in to ask, “Have you finished copying, miss? Shall I put away the brush and inkstone?”

  “Yes, you can. I shan’t be doing any more.”

  She went into the inner room then to lie down, turning the problem over in her mind.

  Zijuan came in again to ask if she would like some tea.

  “No, I just want to rest a bit. You needn’t stay here.”

  Zijuan going out found Xueyan all alone in a brown study.

  “What’s worrying you?” she asked, going up to her.

  Xueyan gave a start, then said, “Don’t make such a noise! Today I heard something very strange. I don’t mind telling you, but you mustn’t pass it on!” She signed towards the inner room, then started out, beckoning Zijuan to follow. At the foot of the steps she said softly, “Did you know, sister, that Baoyu is engaged?”

  Zijuan was flabbergasted.

  “Who says so?” she demanded. “Surely not!”

  “It’s true, I assure you. Most likely, apart from us, all the others know.”

  “Where did you hear this?”

  “From Daishu. She says the girl’s father is a prefect. It’s a wealthy family, and she’s good-looking too.”

  Just then Zijuan heard Daiyu coughing as if she had got up. Afraid she had come to the outer room and overheard them, she caught hold of Xueyan and signed to her to keep quiet. But when she looked into the room there was no one there.

  She whispered to Xueyan, “What exactly did she say?”

  “The other day wasn’t I sent to Miss Tanchun’s place to thank her?” said Xueyan. “She wasn’t in. Daishu was the only one there. As we sat chatting we happened to speak of Master Bao’s mischievous ways. ‘He’s really a problem!’ she said. ‘Just playing about, not at all like a grown man. Already engaged, yet still so muddle-headed!’

  “Ts it settled?’ I asked.”

  “She said, ‘Yes. Some Mr. Wang was the go-between—he’s related to the East Mansion; so without making further inquiries they accepted out of hand.’“

  Zijuan cocked her head, thinking this extremely strange.

  “Why has nobody in the house mentioned it?” she pressed.

  “Daishu explained that too. It was the old lady’s idea. She was afraid that if Baoyu knew about it he’d start running wild. That’s why it’s never mentioned. And after telling me this Daishu told me on no account to pass it on—she said that I like to blab.” She pointed at the house. “That’s why I didn’t tell her a word about this. Since you asked me today, I couldn’t hide it from you.”

  At this point they heard the cockatoo, which had learned this from them, call out, “The young lady’s back! Bring tea! Quick.”

  Startled, they turned to look, and seeing no one there they scolded the bird. Going back inside, they discovered Daiyu just about to sit down on a chair, panting for breath. Zijuan asked in confusion if she wanted a drink.

  “Where have you two been?” gasped Daiyu. “I called but nobody came.”

  She went back to the kang and sank down with her face to the wall, telling them to let down the curtain. Having done this, the two maids went out, each wondering whether she had overheard them, but neither liking to express her misgiving.

  Now Daiyu had been brooding anxiously, then eavesdropped on her two maids’ conversation. Though she did not hear everything, she caught the main gist and felt as if plunged into a raging sea. Thinking it over, it bore out the ominous dream she had so recently had. Frustration and grief filled her heart. Die and be done with it, she thought, rather than have a blow like this sprung upon her. She also reflected bitterly that she had no parents to turn to. Well then, she would let her health run down, and in half a year or so leave this sea of troubles. Having reached this resolve, She Closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, without covering herself with the quilt or putting on more clothes.

  Zijuan and Xueyan came in several times to see if she needed anything, but as she lay motionless they did not like to call her. She went without supper that evening. After the lamps were lit, Zijuan raised the curtain and found her asleep, her quilt kicked to the bottom of the bed. She covered her gently to stop her from catching cold, and Daiyu did not move; but as soon as the maid had left she kicked off the bedding again. Zijuan felt constrained to ask Xueyan, “Was it really true what you told me earlier on?”

  “Of course it was.”

  “How did Daishu get to know?”

  “She heard it from Hongyu.”

  Then Zijuan confided, “I’m afraid our young lady overheard us. Look at the state she was in just now; that must be the reason for it. We mustn’t ever mention it again.”

  They got ready to go to bed then. But first Zijuan went in to have another look at their young mistress, and found that she had kicked off her bedding again. Once more she gently tucked the quilt around her. Bu
t no more about that night.

  The next day Daiyu rose early, and instead of calling her maids sat there alone lost in thought. When Zijuan woke and saw her already up, she exclaimed in surprise:

  “You’re up very early, miss!”

  “I know,” said Daiyu. “I went to bed early, that’s why I woke early.”

  Zijuan hastily got up and roused Xueyan to help Daiyu with her toilet. She just stared blankly, however, at the mirror and soon was weeping so copiously that her silk handkerchief was drenched. Truly:

  Gazing into the mirror at her emaciated face,

  Both she and her reflection pitied each other!

  Zijuan refrained from trying to comfort her, for fear of making matters worse. Some time passed before Daiyu set about her toilet, but listlessly, her tears still flowing. She then sat there a little longer.

  “Light a stick of that Tibetan incense,” she told Zijuan presently.

  “You had hardly any sleep, miss. What do you want incense for? To copy more surras?”

  Daiyu nodded.

  “You woke up too early, miss,” protested Zijuan. “If you copy sutras now, I’m afraid you’ll wear yourself out.”

  “Don’t worry. The sooner I finish the better. Besides, it’s not the sutra I’m thinking about, but writing will help distract me. And later, when you see my calligraphy, it’ll be like seeing me again,” She shed tears anew.

  Knowing that it was useless to reason with her, Zijuan could not hold back her own tears.

  Now that Daiyu had made up her mind to ruin her health, she wanted no nourishment and ate less every day. Baoyu often made time to visit her after school; but although she had so much she longed to tell him, now that they were no longer children she could hardly tease him playfully as before or express her pent-up feelings. He, too, wanted to bare his heart to her to console her, yet he feared this might offend her and make her illness worse. So when they met they could only express their concern in the most superficial way. Truly, theirs was a case of “devotion leading to alienation.”

  The Lady Dowager and Lady Wang, fond as they were of Daiyu, simply called in doctors to attend her as she was so often ill, with no inkling that she was wasting away for love. And though Zijuan knew the truth, she dared not reveal it. So for a fortnight Daiyu ate daily less, till her appetite had so diminished that she could not even swallow a mouthful of congee. Any talk she heard she suspected concerned Baoyu’s marriage. Anyone from Happy Red Court, whether master or maid, made her think of his impending marriage too. When Aunt Xue called on her without Baochai, this made her still more suspicious. She even wished everyone would keep away, and refused to take any medicine in the hope of hastening her death. In her dreams, she kept hearing people refer to “Madam Bao.” Suspicion poisoned her mind. And at last the day came when, refusing both rice and congee, she was at her last gasp, at death’s door.

  To know what became of her, read the chapter which follows.

  Chapter 90

  The Loss of a Padded Jacket Involves a Poor Girl with a Scold

  A Gift of Sweetmeats Perturbs a Young Gentleman

  After Daiyu had resolved on self-destruction she went into a decline, until there came a day when she could eat nothing. For the first fortnight or so, when the old lady and others took it in turn to call, she had still been able to say a few words, but these last two days she remained virtually silent. Sometimes she lay in a coma, sometimes she had lucid spells. Wondering what had brought on this illness, her grandmother questioned her maids a couple of times. But how dared they tell her the truth?

  Zijuan wanted to ask Daishu to confirm the report but feared that would only hasten her young lady’s death, and so when she saw Daishu she held her tongue. And Xueyan, as she knew that her tattling was the root of this trouble and only wished she could grow a hundred tongues to deny it, was of course even more afraid to speak out.

  The day that Daiyu abstained completely from food, Zijuan felt that the end had come and, for a while, remained weeping at her side.

  Then she came out and whispered to Xueyan, “Go in and look after her carefully while I go to tell the mistresses. She’s never been as bad as this before.”

  Xueyan agreeing to this, Zijuan went off.

  Xueyan stayed watching over Daiyu, now in a coma. Too young to

  have seen anything like this before, she thought her young mistress was

  dying and, torn between grief and alarm, longed for Zijuan’s return. Then the frightened girl heard footsteps outside the window. It must be Zijuan, she thought with relief. As she sprang up to raise the portiere for her, the outside portiere swished and in came Daishu, sent by Tanchun to inquire after the invalid.

  Seeing Xueyan waiting there Daishu asked, “How is she?”

  Xueyan nodded and beckoned her in. Daishu noticed Zijuan’s absence, and was terrified by the sight of Daiyu apparently at her last gasp. “Where’s Sister Zijuan?” she asked. “Gone to tell the mistresses.”

  Under the impression that Daiyu was unconscious, and as Zijuan was away, Xueyan took Daishu’s hand and asked her in a low voice, “Was it true what you told me the other day about some Mr. Wang proposing a match for our Master Bao?”

  “Of course it was.”

  “When was the engagement fixed?”

  “How could it be fixed? What I told you that day was what I heard from Hongyu. Later I went to Madam Lian’s place when she was talking it over with Sister Pinger. She said, ‘This is just a pretext for those proteges to suck up to His Lordship, so that he’ll help them in future. Not to say Lady Xing didn’t approve of the girl, even if she did what does her judgement count for? Besides, unknown to her, the old lady long ago decided on one of the girls in our Garden. She just made a show of consulting her because His Lordship mentioned this proposal.’

  “I also heard Madam Lian say, ‘For Baoyu, the old lady’s bound to choose some relative. No other proposals, no matter from whom, would even be considered.’“

  Xueyan, forgetting herself, blurted out, “Why, then, our young lady’s dying for no reason!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You wouldn’t know, but she overheard me telling Sister Zijuan about this the other day. That’s why she’s wasting away.”

  “Keep your voice down, or she may hear us!”

  “She’s already unconscious. Look! She can hardly last more than a

  day or two now.”

  Just then Zijuan lifted the portiere and stepped in.

  “What’s all this?” she exclaimed softly. “If you want to talk, talk outside instead of here. You’ll be the death of her!”

  “This is so extraordinary,” cried Daishu, “I simply can’t believe it!”

  “Good sister, don’t take offence,” retorted Zijuan, “but really you have no sense! You should have known better than to spread such gossip.”

  As they were talking they heard Daiyu cough. Zijuan ran to the kang to attend to her while the two other girls fell silent.

  Bending over Daiyu, Zijuan asked her softly, “Do you want some water, miss?”

  “Yes,” was the faint reply.

  Xueyan at once poured half a cup of boiled water which Zijuan took from her. Daishu stepped forward too, but Zijuan shook her head to make her keep quiet. They stood there until Daiyu coughed again.

  “Do you want some water, miss?” Zijuan asked again.

  Once again Daiyu murmured her assent and tried to raise her head, but this was beyond her. Zijuan clambered on to the kang beside her, the cup in her hand. First she made sure that the water was neither too hot nor too cold, then held it to Daiyu’s lips, supporting her head while she sipped. As she looked eager for more, instead of removing the cup Zijuan held it there while she took another sip. Then Daiyu shook her head, declining more, and lay down again with a sigh. After a while, half opening her eyes, she asked:

  “Was that Daishu talking?”

  “Yes, miss,” said Zijuan.

  Daishu, who had not yet left, ca
me over to greet her. Daiyu opened her eyes to look at her and nodded.

  After a pause she said, “When you go back, give my regards to your mistress.”

  Guessing that she wanted to be left in peace, Daishu quietly slipped away.

  Now Daiyu though so gravely ill had been clear in her mind. She had caught a sentence here and there of the conversation between Daishu and Xueyan, but she lay as if unconscious, owing partly to sheer weakness. From what she overheard she realized that the match proposed had not been agreed to. And then Daishu had quoted Xifeng as saying that the old lady had decided on choosing some relative from the girls in the Garden. Who could this mean if not her? At this thought, her despair gave way to joy and her mind became clearer too. That was why she had drunk some water and why she had wanted to question Daishu.

  Just then the old lady arrived with Lady Wang, Li Wan and Xifeng who had hurried over after hearing Zijuan’s report. Daiyu, her fears set at rest now, naturally no longer wanted to die. Though still weak and lacking in energy, she managed to answer their inquiries briefly. Seeing this, Xifeng called Zijuan over.

  “What do you mean by frightening us like that?” she demanded: “Your young lady’s not in such a bad way after all.”

  “She really looked bad,” replied Zijuan. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have presumed to disturb you. Now, coming back, I’m quite amazed to find her so much better.”

  “Don’t listen to her. What does she know?” said the old lady with a smile. “When something’s wrong, it shows good sense to report it. I like a girl who’s not too lazy to use her tongue and feet.”

  They stayed talking a little longer, then believing Daiyu to be in no danger they left, Truly:

  The cure for a broken heart is heartening news;

  The knot must be untied by the one who tied it.

  So by degrees Daiyu recovered, and her two maids secretly gave thanks to Buddha.

  Xueyan remarked to Zijuan, “Thank goodness she’s better now! Her falling ill was odd, and so was her recovery.”

  “Her falling ill wasn’t odd,” replied Zijuan, “but her recovery is. I suppose she and Baoyu must be destined for each other. As people say, ‘The way to happiness is never smooth’ and ‘Nothing can prevent a match made in Heaven.’ So it seems human wishes are willed by Providence, and they are fated to marry. Another thing: remember that year when I told Baoyu Miss Lin would be going back south? He flew into