A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  “Then there’s a clock more than three feet high in the form of a boy holding a time-piece, which announces each hour in turn, while inside some clock-work figures play musical chimes. As both these are heavy objects, I didn’t bring them. But the two things I have with me are quite intriguing too.”

  With that he produced a brocade box swathed in white silk floss and, having removed some padding, showed them a glass case in which was a gold stand mounted on red crepe. On the stand lay a dazzling bright pearl, as large as a dried longan.

  “This is called a mother pearl,” Feng told them, then asked for a plate.

  Zhan Guang at once passed him a black lacquer tea-tray. “Will this do?”

  “Yes, that’s fine.”

  Feng took a silk pouch from his pocket and emptied all the pearls in it on to the tray, then placed the mother pearl in the middle and set the tray on the table. At once, all the small pearls rolled over and over until they were close to the big one, propping it up, all without exception nestling against the big pearl.

  “Fantastic!” exclaimed Zhan.

  “I’ve heard of this,” said Jia Zheng. “This is how it came by its name

  as the mother of pearls.”

  Now Feng turned to the page who had accompanied him. “Where is that box?” he called.

  The page at once brought over a rosewood box. When opened it disclosed, on a lining of striped silk, some folded blue gauze. “What is this?” asked Zhan. “A curtain of mermaid-gauze.”

  When Feng took it out of the box, the curtain—each fold less than five inches long—was less than half an inch thick. He unfolded it layer by layer. And by the time he had unfolded some ten layers, it was already too big for the table.

  “See, there are two more folds,” he said. “It can only be hung in a room with a high ceiling. This is woven of mermaidsilk. In the heat of summer, hung in the hall, it will keep out all flies and mosquitoes. It is light and transparent too.”

  “Don’t spread it all out,” interposed Jia Zheng, “or you’ll have trouble folding it up again.”

  Then Zhan helped Feng refold the curtain.

  “The price for these four things isn’t exorbitant,” Feng said. “He’s willing to sell them for twenty thousand taels: ten thousand for the mother pearl, five thousand for the curtain, and five thousand for the screen and the clock combined.”

  “We can’t afford that!” exclaimed Jia Zheng.

  “You are related to the Imperial House,” said Feng. “Couldn’t they use things of this sort in the Palace?”

  “There are plenty of things they could use, but where is so much money to come from?” Jia Zheng retorted. “Wait, though, till I’ve sent these inside to show the old lady.”

  “Certainly,” Feng agreed.

  Jia Zheng ordered a servant to ask Jia Lian to take the pearl and curtain to the old lady; and Lady Xing, Lady Wang and Xifeng were invited over to see them. They examined each in turn.

  “He has two other novelties: a screen and a musical clock,” Jia Lian informed them. “He’s asking twenty thousand taels for all four.”

  “Of course they’re good,” said Xifeng. “But we haven’t so much spare money. And we’re not like those provincial governors who have to send tribute to court. In fact, for years I’ve been thinking that a family like ours should invest in some real estate—sacrificial land, manor houses or burial sites. Then in future, if things go badly for our descendants, they’ll have something to fall back on and won’t be bankrupted. This is my idea, but I don’t know whether the old lady and the masters and mistresses agree or not. If the gentlemen want to buy these—that’s up to them.”

  The old lady and the rest agreed with her.

  “Then I’ll take them back,” said Jia Lian. “It was Lord Zheng who told me to bring these to show the old lady, thinking they could be presented to the Palace no one spoke of buying them to keep ourselves. But before the old lady says a word you come out with all that ill-omened talk!”

  He took the things away, simply telling Jia Zheng that the old lady did not want them.

  Then Jia Zheng told Feng, “These are excellent things, but we haven’t got the money. I’ll keep my eyes open, though, and if I find someone who wants them I’ll let you know.”

  Feng had to put pearl and curtain away and sit down again to make polite conversation, but feeling disheartened he soon rose to take his leave.

  “Do stay and have dinner with us,” urged Jia Zheng.

  “I don’t want to put you to too much trouble, uncle.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.”

  Just at this point, a servant announced Lord She even as he walked in, and there was the usual exchange of civilities.

  Presently wine and dishes were brought in and the gentlemen started drinking. After four or five cups, mention was made again of the novelties from the south.

  “Such things are hard to dispose of,” remarked Feng. “Apart from distinguished families like yours, who else can afford to buy them?”

  “That’s not necessarily so,” Jia Zheng demurred.

  Jia She added, “Our family isn’t what it was—we’re simply keeping up appearances.”

  “How is Master Zhen of the East Mansion?” Feng inquired. “Last time I met him, in the course of conversation he mentioned that his son’s second wife can’t compare with his first from the Qin family. I forgot to ask which family the new young mistress comes from.”

  “She’s from a noble family too,” said Jia Zheng. “She’s the daughter of old Mr. Hu, who was Governor of the Metropolitan Circuit.”

  “I know Mr. Hu,” replied Feng. “His household isn’t too well regulated. Still, that doesn’t matter if the girl herself is good.”

  Jia Lian changed the subject by saying, “I’ve heard from someone in the cabinet that Yucun is to be promoted again.”

  “Good,” said Jia Zheng. “But is this news reliable, I wonder?”

  “There must be something in it,” insisted Jia Lian.

  “I was at the Ministry of Civil Affairs earlier on, and I heard the same talk,” confirmed Feng. “Is respected Master Yucun a member of your honourable clan?”

  “Yes, he is,” said Jia Zheng.

  “A close relation or a distant connection?”

  “It’s a long story. He’s a native of Huzhou Prefecture in Zhejiang, who moved to Suzhou and didn’t make out too well there; but a certain Zhen Shiyin befriended him and helped him out. Then he passed the palace examination and was appointed a magistrate, after which he married one of the Zhen family’s maids—his present wife is his second. Then Zhen Shiyin lost all his money and seems to have disappeared. At the time when Yucun was dismissed from his post, he didn’t know our family. My brother-in-law Lin Ruhai, who was Salt Commissioner of Yangzhou then, engaged him as a tutor for his daughter. When word came that he might be reinstated, he decided to return to the capital; and as my niece happened to be coming to visit us, her father asked Yucun to escort her here and wrote a letter recommending him to me. Since he made a fairly good impression on me; we saw quite a bit of each other. The strange thing was that Yucun knew our whole family history from the start—all about our Rong and Ning Mansions, the inmates of each, and different happenings here. So we were soon on a familiar footing.” He added with a smile, “He very soon learned how to climb the official ladder, getting himself promoted from the post of a prefect to that of a censor and then, in another few years, becoming Vice-Minister of Civil Affairs and Minister Of War. Alter that, for some reason, he was demoted three ranks. Now it seems he is going up again.”

  “Prosperity and ruin,” observed Feng, “are as unpredictable as success or failure in one’s official career.”

  “Yucun counts as one who has got off lightly,” rejoined Jia Zheng. “There are other families much like ours, the Zhen family for instance, who had the same achievements to their credit, the same hereditary honours, the same way of life, with whom we were very close. A few years ago when they cam
e to the capital, they would send people to call on us and they cut quite a dash. Before long, though, their property was confiscated and no more has been heard of them ever since. We don’t know what’s become of the family and can’t help worrying about them. Don’t you think this must strike fear into officials?”

  “Well, our family should be safe,” Jia She observed.

  “Of course, your honourable family has nothing to fear,” Feng assured him. “You have Her Highness in the Palace to watch over you, and a host of good friends and kinsmen. Besides, not one of your family from the old lady down to your young masters is grasping or niggardly.”

  “That may be so,” said Jia Zheng. “But they have no virtue or ability either. How long can they go on just living on their capital?”

  “Don’t talk that,” protested Jia She. “Let’s have some more drinks.”

  They drank a few more cups, then rice was served. After they had finished the meal and drunk some tea, Feng’s page came over to whisper something to him, and he asked permission to leave.

  Jia She asked the page what he had said.

  “It’s snowing outside, sir, and the first watch has sounded.”

  Jia Zheng sent a servant to look, who reported that more than one inch of snow had fallen.

  “Have you put those valuables away?” Jia Zheng asked.

  “Yes, uncle,” said Feng. “If your honourable family has any use for them, we can of course negotiate the price.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “I’ll wait to hear from you. It’s cold; please don’t see me out.” Jia Zheng and Jia She told Jia Lian to see him out. If you wish to know the sequel, read the next chapter.

  Chapter 93

  A Servant of the Zhen Family Offers His Services to the Jias

  A Scandal in Water Moon Convent Is Exposed

  After Feng Ziying had gone, Jia Zheng summoned the gateman.

  “Today the Duke of Linan sent invitations to a banquet,” he said. “Do you know what the occasion is?”

  “I asked, sir,” replied the gateman. “It’s no special celebration, but a company of young actors—a company with a fine reputation— has come to the Prince of Nanan’s Mansion; and the duke is so pleased with them that he’s putting on two days’ performances for his friends’ enjoyment. It should be very lively. There’s probably no need to send presents.”

  Jia She came over at this point to ask Jia Zheng if he would be going the next day.

  “I suppose we’ll have to,” was the reply, “to show our appreciation.”

  Just then the gateman came back to report, “The secretary from your yamen has come to ask you to go there tomorrow, sir, as the minister has some business and will need you earlier than usual.”

  “Very well.”

  Then two of the family’s bailiffs came in and paid their respects. After kowtowing they stood there at attention.

  “Are you two from Hao Village?” Jia Zheng asked. “Yes, sir.”

  Instead of inquiring their business, he chatted with Jia She till the latter rose to go and was escorted home by servants with lanterns.

  Jia Lian then asked the bailiffs, “Well, what have you come for?”

  “We collected the rent in kind for the tenth month,” they reported. “It should have arrived here tomorrow, but outside the city our carts were commandeered and, when we protested, all the things on them were dumped on the ground. We told them these weren’t merchants’ carts but were delivering rent to your mansions. Still they paid no attention. When we told the carters to drive on, some runners beat them up and made off with our two carts. So we’ve come to report this, sir, and ask you to send to the yamen to get them back. Those lawless runners should be punished too. You’ve no idea, sir, how hard it is on merchants. All their goods are unloaded, regardless, and their carts are driven away. If the carters so much as murmur, they get their heads smashed in.”

  “Outrageous!” swore Jia Lian.

  He there and then wrote a note and told the servants, “Take this to the local yamen and demand the return of the carts as well as the produce. We won’t stand for it if one single thing is missing! And send Zhou Rui here at once!”

  But Zhou Rui was absent. And when they looked for Lai Wang, they found he had gone out after lunch and not yet returned.

  “Not one of the bastards is here!” swore Jia Lian. “They do not work —just gorge themselves all the year round.” He ordered his pages, “Go and find them, quick!” Then he went home to sleep.

  The next day the Duke of Linan sent over again to invite them.

  Jia Zheng told Jia She, “I have business in my yamen. And Lian can’t go either, he has to stay in to deal with this commandeering of our carts. For politeness’ sake, you’d better take Baoyu over for the day.”

  Jia She nodded. “That’s all right.”

  Then Jia Zheng sent for Baoyu. “You’re to go with Lord She to the opera in the Duke of Linan’s place,” he told him.

  Baoyu, only too delighted, changed his clothes and went off with Beiming, Saohong and Chuyao to present himself to Jia She and pay his respects. They drove to the duke’s mansion, where the gateman announced their arrival then ushered them in. Jia She led Baoyu into the courtyard in which a lively party had assembled. After they had paid their respects to the duke and greeted the other guests, everyone sat down to talk. Then the manager of the company stepped forward with an ivory tablet and a compendium of their repertoire. Falling on one knee he said: “Please make your choice, gentlemen.”

  In order of seniority they selected operas. And when it came to Jia She’s turn, the manager caught sight of Baoyu. He hurried straight over to him and saluted.

  “Please choose a couple of scenes, Master Bao,” he said.

  This man with his clear complexion and red lips was fresh as lotus taken from the water, graceful as a jade tree in the breeze. Baoyu recognized him at one glance as Jiang Yuhan. He had heard not long before that Jiang had brought a company of young actors to the capital, but his old friend had failed to come to see him. He could hardly stand up in this company to greet him.

  “When did you come back?” he asked him with a smile.

  Jiang pointing at himself murmured, “Surely you know. Second Master.”

  As they could not very well converse in public, Baoyu just picked one item at random. After Jiang Yuhan had moved on, there was some speculation about him.

  “Who is he?” someone asked.

  “He used to play young ladies,” another man answered. “Now that he’s too old for that, he acts as manager instead and sometimes takes young men’s roles. He’s put aside a tidy sum of money and owns a couple of shops, but he won’t give up his profession and goes on managing an opera company.”

  “I suppose he must have married,” one guest remarked.

  “No, he’s not engaged yet. He’s got this idea fixed that marriage is for keeps, affecting one’s whole life, not something to enter into casually; so his wife, regardless of her social status, must measure up to his talent. That’s why he’s still unmarried.”

  Baoyu wondered who the lucky girl would be to marry a man of his ability.

  Then the performance started. And very lively it was too, with Kunqu, Yiqiang, Gaoqiang and Bangzi operas. At noon tables were set out for the feast, and when they had watched a little longer Jia She rose to leave.

  “It’s still early,” said the duke, coming over to press him to stay. “And I’ve heard that Jiang Yuhan is going to play in their best item—a scene from The Oil-Vendor and the Courtesan.”

  Baoyu hearing this was most eager to stay, and so Jia She resumed his seat. Then, sure enough, Jiang Yuhan came on in the role of the oil-vendor Qin, and gave an excellent performance of how the young man cared for the courtesan when she was drunk, after which the two of them drank and sang together in affectionate intimacy.

  Baoyu was not interested in the heroine, having eyes only for the young hero. And he was quite enraptured by his singing, for
Jiang Yuhan had a resonant voice, clear enunciation and good sense of rhythm. By the time this scene ended he was firmly convinced that Jiang was a romantic, completely unique. He thought, “The Book of Music rightly says, ‘Stirred feelings find expression in sound, and when the sound follows a pattern we call it music.’ So sounds, notes and music take some understanding, and a study has to be made of their origin. Poetry can convey emotions, but it can’t thrill us to the marrow. In future I really must make a study of music.”

  His reverie was interrupted by Jia She rising to leave. As their host could not prevail on him to stay, Baoyu had no choice but to go back with him.

  On their return Jia She went home. And Baoyu, paying his duty call on his father, found him just back from the ministry questioning Jia Lian about the seizure of their carts.

  Jia Lian said, “I sent servants there today with my card, but the magistrate was out. His factotum said, ‘His Excellency knew nothing about this, and gave no orders for the requisition of carts. It’s all the fault of those trouble-making scoundrels who take unfair advantage of people outside. As these are His Lordship’s carts, I’ll send at once to investigate and guarantee to return them as well as the things tomorrow. If there is any delay, I shall report it to His Excellency and have them severely punished. But since he is away now, I hope His Lordship will be understanding, as it would be better not to trouble my master.’“