A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  That same day Baochai, in the Lady Dowager’s room, heard Lady Wang tell of Tanchun’s marriage proposal.

  “It’s good that his family comes from our district,” the old lady commented. “But you say that boy visited our house—why didn’t your husband mention this before?”

  “We didn’t know it ourselves at the time,” said Lady Wang.

  “It’s a good match but too far away. Though the master is in the south now, if he gets transferred in future won’t the child be lonely there all by herself?”

  “We’re both official families, with no knowing where the next post will be. Their family may be transferred to the capital. Anyway, ‘Leaves that fall return to their root in the end.’ As the master’s been posted there, and this was proposed by his superior, how can he refuse? I think he must approve, but not presuming to make the decision himself he sent the servant to ask your consent, madam.”

  “It’s all right if you’re both willing. But once Tanchun’s gone who knows how long it’ll be before she can come home. Any later than two or three years and I may never see her again!” She shed tears.

  “When our girls grow up we have to marry them off,” replied Lady Wang. “Even if the other family’s from our own district, we can’t be sure of always being together—unless they’re not officials. All we can hope for is that the girls will be happy. Take Yingchun: she’s married into a family near by, yet we keep hearing how her husband ill-treats her-sometimes they even give her nothing to eat. And anything we send never reaches her. Recently, they say, it’s gone from bad to worse and her in-laws won’t let her come home. When she and her husband have words, he jeers that we’re in debt to his family. Poor child, never able to hold up her head!

  “The other day I was so worried about her, I sent some maids to see her. Yingchun hid herself in a side-room and wouldn’t come out. When they insisted on going in they saw that, cold as it was, she was still wearing thin, shabby clothes. With tears in her eyes she pleaded, ‘When you go back, don’t tell them what a wretched time I’m having; this is my fate. And don’t send me clothes or things. I wouldn’t get them. Instead, they’d accuse me of complaining and give me another beating.’ Just think, madam, because she’s close enough for us to know what’s going on, when she has a bad time we feel even worse. Not that her mother pays any attention, and her father does nothing either, so poor Yingchun’s worse off now than one of our third-grade maids.

  “Though Tanchun’s not my child, since the master’s agreed to this match after seeing the boy, I feel sure it must be all right. So please give your consent, madam, then we’ll choose a good day to send her off, well escorted, to join her father. He’ll see that everything is done in style.”

  “Very well, as her father approves, get everything ready and choose a day for setting off on this long journey,” said the old lady. “That will be another business settled.”

  “Very good, madam.”

  Baochai who had heard all this did not say a word, although inwardly she was lamenting. “Of all the girls in our family she’s the best, yet now she’s going so far away to get married—there are fewer and fewer of us here every day.”

  When Lady Wang rose to leave, she went out with her. Back in her room, she did not tell Baoyu this news; but finding Xiren sewing alone she confided it to her, distressing her too.

  But when word reached Concubine Zhao she started gloating. “This daughter of mine has never shown me any respect in this household. She treats me not like her mother but worse than her maids! She sucks up to those who have influence and sides with others against me. With her taking first place, Huan doesn’t stand a chance. Now that the master’s fetching her away, I’ll have a freer hand. I can’t expect her to look after me, but only hope she ends up like Yingchun—yes, that would please me.”

  With these thoughts in mind, she went over as fast as she could to congratulate Tanchun.

  “You’re going up in the world, miss,” she said. “You’ll be better off in your husband’s home than here; so I’ve no doubt you’re agreeable to this marriage. Though I brought you up, you’ve not done me any favours. But even if I’m seven-tenths bad, I’m still three-tenths good; so don’t forget all about me once you get there.”

  Tanchun went on sewing with lowered head throughout this rigmarole, not saying a word. Finding herself ignored, Concubine Zhao left in dudgeon.

  Mixed anger, amusement and grief made Tanchun shed tears when she was alone again. After a while she went off in low spirits to call on Baoyu.

  “Third Sister,” he said, “I heard that you were there when Cousin Lin died and that, far off in the distance, there was the sound of music. For all we know, she may have been an immortal.”

  “You’re imagining things!” laughed Tanchun. “But there was something strange about that evening, and it didn’t sound like any mortal music. Perhaps you’re right.”

  This confirmed Baoyu’s belief. He recalled how, when he was out of his mind, an apparition had told him that Daiyu in life was no ordinary mortal, and after death no ordinary spirit. She must have been a goddess come down to earth. This reminded him of the Moon Goddess in an opera he had seen, so lovely, ethereal and charming!

  After Tanchun had left, he insisted on having Zijuan to work for them and at once despatched a maid to ask the old lady to send her.

  Zijuan was unwilling to come, but she could only comply with Their Ladyships’ orders. In Baoyu’s presence, however, she did nothing but exclaim in dismay and sigh. When he quietly took her hand and softly questioned her about Daiyu, she gave him offhand answers. But Baochai did not blame her for this, secretly approving her loyalty to her young mistress.

  As for Daiyu’s other maids, though Xueyan had helped out at Baoyu’s wedding that night, thinking her rather stupid he had asked Their Ladyships to send her away, and she had been married off to one of the servants. Nanny Wang had been kept on to escort Daiyu’s coffin back south later on, while Yingge and the other young maids had gone back to work for the Lady Dowager.

  Baoyu’s grief for Daiyu deepened as it led him to reflect on the dispersal of all her attendants. He brooded helplessly till the sudden recollection that she had died fully conscious convinced him that she had returned to the realm of immortals. His spirits rose again.

  Just at that moment, however, he heard Xiren and Baochai discussing Tanchun’s marriage. With a cry of dismay he threw himself on the kang, sobbing. In alarm they helped him up and asked what was wrong, but he could not speak for tears.

  Presently, when he was calmer, he blurted out, “I can’t live on like this! All my girl cousins and sisters are leaving one by one. Cousin Lin has become an immortal. First Sister’s dead—but I don’t miss her so much, as we weren’t always together. Second Sister had married a scoundrel. Now Third Sister is going to marry far from home, so we’ll never meet again! Where Xiangyun will be going I don’t know. And Baoqin is engaged to be married too. Why shouldn’t one of them at least stay here? Why leave me all alone?”

  Xiren started to reason with him, but Baochai waved her aside. “It’s no use trying to persuade him,” she said. “Let me ask him a few questions.” Turning to Baoyu she demanded, “Do you expect all these girls to keep you company here to the end of your life, and never to get married? You may have something else in mind for some of them, but how about your own sisters? Never mind whether they leave to marry far away or not; once your father’s made the decision, what can you do? Are you the only one in the world who is fond of his cousins and sisters? If everyone were like you, I wouldn’t be able to keep you company either. People study to increase their understanding; how is it then that, with you, the more you study the more muddled you get? You talk as if Xiren and I should both go away, so that you can invite all your sisters and cousins here to stay with you.”

  “I understand,” he cried, clutching hold of them both. “But why part so soon? Why not wait till I’ve turned to ashes?”

  Xiren put her hand over his mo
uth and scolded, “You’re talking nonsense again. The last two days you’ve just taken a turn for the better, and your young lady’s eating a bit more too. If you make another rumpus, I’ll wash my hands of you.”

  “I know, I know!” cried Baoyu in desperation, aware that they were right. “But my mind’s in a ferment.”

  Baochai ignored him, secretly telling Xiren to give him a sedative and talk him round little by little. Xiren for her part suggested telling Tanchun not to come to take leave of him.

  “Why not?” retorted Baochai. “In a few days when his mind’s clearer they should have a good talk. After all, his third sister’s very sensible, not one of those who just make a pretence of shrewdness. She’s bound to give him good advice, so that he doesn’t behave like this again.”

  At this point Yuanyang arrived, sent by the old lady to say that she had heard of Baoyu’s relapse and Xiren must comfort him and talk him round—he must stop having foolish fancies. Xiren agreed to this, and not long after that Yuanyang went back.

  Soon Tanchun would be setting off on her long journey and, though they did not have to give her a complete dowry, the old lady felt they should provide her with all necessities. She sent for Xifeng, told her the master’s decision, and asked her to see to things. Xifeng accepted this task. But to know how she carried it out, read the next chapter.

  Chapter 101

  A Ghostly Warning Is Given One Moonlit Night in Grand View Garden

  A Fearful Omen Is Issued by the Oracle in Scattering Flowers Temple

  On Xifeng’s return home, because Jia Lian was still out, she assigned servants to prepare Tanchun’s dowry and baggage. After dusk, on the spur of the moment, she decided to call on her accompanied by Fenger and two other young maids, one going in front with a lantern. But when they went out, as the moon had already risen and was casting a shimmering, liquid light, she sent the girl with the lantern back again.

  As they passed the window of the boiler house, they heard the babble of voices inside and what sounded like a half tearful half laughing discussion. In annoyance, Xifeng told Xiaohong to go in casually but keep her ears open to find out what the women in there were gossiping about. The girl left them to do her bidding.

  Then Xifeng went on with Fenger to the Garden. The gate was closed but not yet locked. They opened it and entered. The moonlight here seemed brighter than outside, the ground was covered with the dark shadows of trees and not a voice could be heard in that lonely stillness. As they made for the path to Autumn Freshness Studio, the soughing wind brought leaves rustling down from the trees on every side, while the creaking of their branches startled the chilly crows roosting there so that they winged off in alarm. Xifeng had been drinking, and this wind made her shiver. Fenger behind her hunched her shoulders too.

  “My, it’s cold!” she exclaimed.

  “Run back and fetch me that sleeveless ermine jacket. I can’t stand this,” ordered Xifeng. “I’ll be waiting for you in Miss Tanchun’s place.”

  The maid agreed with alacrity, eager to go back to put on more clothes herself. She set off at a run.

  Xifeng was just walking on when a snuffling and sniffing behind her made her hair stand on end. She turned to look. A creature black as coal was sniffing at her with out-stretched nose, its two eyes shining like lamps. Scared out of her wits, she let out a little scream as she saw that it was a hound. Trailing its bushy tail, the great dog bounded off up a hillock, where it turned and folded its front paws to salute her.

  Trembling with fright she hurried on towards Autumn Freshness Studio, and was passing some rocks near its gate when a shadowy figure flitted in front of her. She wondered which apartment this maid belonged to.

  “Who’s there?” she called out.

  No one answered even when she repeated the question, and she was frightened out of her wits. Then, indistinctly, she heard a voice behind her:

  “Aunty, don’t you recognize me?”

  She swung round to see a pretty, well-dressed young woman who looked extremely familiar, though she could not identify her.

  “Aunty,” the other continued, “you’re so set on enjoying wealth and luxury, you’ve thrown to the winds my advice to you that year to lay a foundation that will last for ever.”

  Xifeng lowered her head to think, but could not for the life of her place this young woman.

  “Aunty, you used to be so fond of me, how is it that now you’ve forgotten me completely?” the other asked her with a cynical laugh.

  Only then did Xifeng realize that this was Jia Rong’s first wife Qin Keqing.

  “Mercy!” she exclaimed. “You’re dead—how did you get here?”

  She spat at the apparition and turned to run, but tripped over a stone and fell down, drenched with sweat as if awakening from a nightmare. Though convulsed with fear, she was clear enough in her mind to see the blurred figures of Fenger and Xiaohong approaching. Not wanting to be laughed at, she scrambled up.

  “What have you been doing that kept you so long?” she asked. “Hurry up and help me into that jacket.”

  Fenger came over to do this, after which Xiaohong took Xifeng’s arm to help her forward.

  “I’ve just been there and they’re all asleep,” Xifeng prevaricated. “Let’s go back.” With that she hurried home with her two maids.

  By this time Jia Lian had returned, and she saw from his worried face that he was not his usual self. Though tempted to ask what was wrong, knowing his temper she refrained and simply went to bed.

  The next day Jia Lian rose at dawn, meaning to call on the chief eunuch Qiu Shian who was in charge of the Audience Hall, to find out what news there was. As it was too early to leave, he picked up from the desk a copy of the Court Gazette delivered the previous day and started to read it.

  The first item was a report from Wang Zhong, Governor of Yunnan, that eighteen felons had been apprehended in an attempt to smuggle muskets and gun-powder over the frontier. The ringleader Bao Yin was a servant in the household of Jia Hua, Duke of Zhenguo and Senior Imperial Tutor.

  He then read the second item. Li Xiao, Prefect of Suzhou, had impeached a man for condoning the crimes of one of his stewards, who had bullied soldiers as well as civilians, and had killed a chaste wife and two others of the family after failing to rape her. The culprit, Shi Fu, admitted that he served the family of Jia Fan who had a third-rank hereditary title. These two items made Jia Lian uneasy.

  He wanted to read on, but feared that might make him too late to see Qiu Shian; so putting on formal clothes and not stopping for breakfast, he took two sips of the tea Pinger had just brought in, then went out, mounted his horse and rode off. Pinger put away the clothes out of which he had changed.

  Xifeng was still in bed, and Pinger suggested, “I heard you tossing and turning during the night. Let me massage you now so that you can have a good nap.”

  Construing Xifeng’s silence as consent, Pinger sat on the kang beside her and pummelled her gently. Xifeng was dozing off when the cries of her small daughter in the next room made her open her eyes again.

  Pinger called out, “Nanny Li, what are you doing? If baby cries, you should pat her. What a glutton for sleep you are!”

  Nanny Li, waking up with a start, was annoyed by this scolding. She gave Qiaojie several hard spanks.

  “Die and be done with it, you little wretch!” she grumbled. “Why don’t you sleep? Is your mother dead that you’re wailing like this in the middle of the night?” Grinding her teeth, she pinched the child so that she burst out howling.

  “This is the limit!” cried Xifeng. “Listen to the way she’s taking it out on the child! Go and wham that black-hearted bitch, and bring Qiaojie in here.”

  “Don’t be angry, madam,” said Pinger. “She wouldn’t dare. I expect she bumped into her by accident. If I were to give her a few whacks, they’d start accusing us behind our backs of beating people at midnight.”

  Xifeng was silent for some time, then she sighed, “Look what happens while
I’m still alive and kicking. If I die tomorrow what will become of this imp?”

  “What a way to talk, madam!” chuckled Pinger. “First thing in the morning too.”

  “You don’t understand.” Xifeng gave a cynical laugh. “I know I shan’t last very long. Though I’ve lived only twenty-five years, I’ve seen and tasted things not given to others to see or taste, and had the best of food and clothing as well as of all the good things in this world. I’ve vented my spite fully too, and done enough others down. So if I’m a bit short on ‘longevity’ what does it matter?”

  At this, Pinger’s eyes brimmed with tears.

  “Don’t put on that soft-hearted act,” scoffed Xifeng. “Once I’m dead, the two of you will be only too pleased. You can live in peace and harmony, without me as a thorn in your side. All I ask of you, come what may, is to take good care of my child.”

  Pinger was weeping now.

  “Don’t be such a fool,” jeered Xifeng. “I’m not dying yet a while. Why start mourning so early? Are you trying to hasten my death with your wailing?”

  Pinger hastily dried her eyes.

  “It’s the way you talk, madam, that upset me,” she said, then went on massaging her until Xifeng dropped off.

  Pinger had no sooner got down from the kang than she heard footsteps outside. For Jia Lian had left too late to see the chief eunuch, who had gone to court. And so he had come back in a bad temper. “Are they still not up?” he asked Pinger. “Not yet,” she said.

  He came in, banging the portiere behind him. “Fine!” he swore. “Not up at this hour, just to make things more difficult for me!”

  He called for tea, and she promptly poured him a cup. But the maids had gone back to bed after Jia Lian went out, not expecting him home so quickly, and had therefore not prepared tea; so what Pinger brought him was not freshly brewed. In a fury he raised the bowl and—crash!— smashed it to smithereens.

  Xifeng, startled from sleep, woke up in a cold sweat. She opened her eyes and gave a cry of dismay at sight of her husband sitting there in a rage while Pinger stooped to pick up the broken pieces.