by Cao Xueqin
The monk placed it in his hand and he grasped it tightly, then slowly held it up to examine it closely. “Ah!” he exclaimed. “At last!”
All there invoked Buddha in elation, even Baochai for getting the monk’s presence.
Jia Lian coming over too now saw that Baoyu had indeed regained consciousness. Although delighted he made off hastily. The monk, however, overtook and grabbed him without a word, and Jia Lian had to go with him to the front of the house where he lost no time in reporting this to Jia Zheng.
Overjoyed, Jia Zheng bowed his thanks to the monk, who bowed in return then sat down, making Jia Lian suspect that he would not leave until he received his reward. Jia Zheng, looking closely at him, saw that this was not the same monk as last time.
He asked, “Where is your monastery, and what is your name in religion? Where did you find this jade? How is it that the sight of it restored my son to life?”
“That I don’t know,” answered the monk with a smile. “All I want is ten thousand taels of silver.”
He looked so boorish that Jia Zheng dared not offend him and simply replied, “You shall have it.”
“If you have it, hurry up and bring it. I must be going.”
“Please wait a little while I go inside to have a look.”
“Go on then. Don’t be long about it.”
Jia Zheng went inside without having himself announced and walked to Baoyu’s bedside. At sight of him his son wanted to sit up but was too weak to do so, and Lady Wang made him lie down, telling him not to move.
With a smile Baoyu showed his father the jade and said, “The precious jade has come back.”
Jia Zheng glanced at it but did not examine it closely, knowing there must be some mystery about it. “Now that Baoyu has recovered,” he said to his wife, “how are we to raise the reward?”
“We must just give the monk all we possess,” she answered.
“I can’t believe this monk came for the money, did he?” asked Baoyu.
Jia Zheng nodded. “I find it strange too, yet he keeps demanding silver.
Lady Wang suggested, “Go and entertain him first, sir.”
After his father had left, Baoyu said he was hungry. He finished a bowl of congee then asked for rice, and the serving women brought him a bowl. His mother did not want him to eat too much, but he assured her, “It’s all right, I’m better now.” He propped himself up to finish the bowl, and very soon felt well enough to sit up.
Sheyue helped him gently up, and in her jubilation remarked tactlessly, “This really is a treasure! Just the sight of it cured him. How lucky it wasn’t smashed that time before!”
Reminded of his quarrel with Daiyu, Baoyu changed colour, let fall the jade and toppled over backwards. To know whether he lived or died, read the next chapter.
Chapter 116
Baoyu, His Divine Jade Recovered, Attains Understanding in the Illusory Realm
Jia Zheng Escorts His Mother’s Coffin Home to Fulfil His Filial Duty
At Sheyue’s reference to his jade, Baoyu fell backwards and fainted away again. Lady Wang and the others cried out in consternation, and though they did not reproach her Sheyue knew that her ill-considered comment was to blame. Weeping, she resolved that if Baoyu died she would follow him to the grave. When the others failed to revive him, his mother sent to ask the monk to save him; but when Jia Zheng looked for him, the monk had disappeared. Taken aback and hearing a fresh commotion from the inner apartments, he hurried in and found Baoyu once lore in a coma. His teeth were clenched and his pulse had stopped, though when they felt his heart it was still warm. In desperation Jia Zheng summoned a doctor to administer medicine and restore him to life.
By then Baoyu’s spirit had taken flight. Do you think he was really dead? As if in a dream he sped to the front hall where he paid his respects to the monk who was seated there. The monk at once rose to his feet and led him away. Baoyu felt as light as a leaf floating through the air, and somehow without passing through the main gate they left the mansion.
After a while they came to a desolate region with a distant archway which struck Baoyu as familiar; but before he could ask the monk their whereabouts, the nebulous figure of a woman approached them. “How could there be such a beauty in a wilderness like this?” he wondered. “She must be a goddess come down to earth.” Going closer and gazing at her more intently, he thought he knew her yet could not identify her. The woman greeted the monk, then disappeared, and as she did so he realized that it was Third Sister You. Marvelling at her presence there, he was again about to question the monk when the latter pulled him through the archway. On it was inscribed in large characters “Happy Land of Youth” flanked by the couplet:
When false gives way to true, true surpasses false.
Though nothingness exists, being differs from nothingness.
Once through the archway they came to a palace gate, on its lintel the inscription “Fortune for the Good, Calamity for the Licentious.” Another couplet on the two sides read:
Even sages cannot change the past and future;
Causes and effects tear the closest kin apart.
Having read this, Baoyu thought, “So here is my chance to find out about karma, past and future.” At this point he saw Yuanyang standing there beckoning to him. “Apparently after coming all this way I’m still in the Garden,” he mused. “But why is it so changed?” He wanted to accost her, but to his astonishment in a flash she was gone. Going over towards where she had stood, he saw a row of side courts with tablets over their gates. In no mood to read their inscriptions, he hurried to the place where Yuanyang had vanished. The gate of this court was ajar, but not liking to intrude he decided to ask permission from the monk. When he turned round, however, the monk was nowhere to be seen. He gazed abstractedly at the magnificent hall which he had certainly never seen in the Garden, and halted to look up at the inscription “Enlightenment for the Infatuated.” The couplet on both sides read:
Joy and sorrow alike are false;
Desire and longing are folly.
Baoyu nodded to himself, sighing, and wanted to go in to ask Yuanyang what this place was. Then realizing that it looked familiar he summoned up courage to open the gate and step in. Yuanyang was nowhere in sight and the whole building was so eerily dark that he was about to slip away when his eye fell on a dozen or so large cabinets, their doors half open. It suddenly occurred to him. “When I was young, I dreamed that I came to a place like this. What a stroke of luck my coming here again today!”
In a daze he forgot his search for Yuanyang and boldly opened the first cabinet, in which he found several albums. Elatedly he told himself, “Most people think dreams are false, but this one was based on fact! I never expected to have the same dream again, yet today I’ve recaptured it. I wonder whether these albums are the same as those I saw last time?”
He took the topmost album entitled First Register of Twelve Beauties of Jinling. Holding it he thought, “I have a faint recollection of this; it’s too bad that I can’t remember clearly.” He opened it at the first page and saw a picture, too blurred to make out distinctly. On the back were a few lines of indistinct writing, but by straining his eyes he deciphered a few words about a jade belt, and over these what seemed to be the word “Lin.” Could this refer to Cousin Lin?” he wondered, then read about a golden hairpin in the snow and marvelled at the resemblance to Baochai’s name. But when he reread the four lines consecutively, he could make no sense of them except that they seemed to suggest Daiyu and Baochai, which in itself was nothing extraordinary. Only the words “pity” and “sighing” were ominous. How to interpret this? Then he rebuked himself, “I’m doing this on the sly. If I rack my brains too long and somebody comes, I shan’t be able to read the rest.” So he leafed through the register without paying much attention to the pictures, and finally found the lines:
When Hare and Tiger meet,
From this Great Dream of life she must depart.
At that, the truth dawned on him. “Righ
t! This prediction came true! It must mean Sister Yuanchun. If all the others were equally clear and I could copy them down to study them, I’d be able to find out the lifespans and fortunes of all these girls. When I went back I’d keep it secret, but knowing in advance would save me worrying so much for nothing.”
He looked round but could see no writing-brush or ink, and for fear of being disturbed he read rapidly on. One of the pictures showed a shadowy figure flying a kite, but he did not trouble to examine it carefully. Instead he read hastily through all the twelve verses. Some he understood at a glance, some after reflection; others baffled him and he tried to memorize them. Then, sighing, he picked up the third register of the beauties of Jinling. At first he did not understand the lines:
This prize is borne off by an actor,
And luck passes the young master by.
But when he saw the picture of flowers and a mat, he wept in consternation.
Before he could read on he heard someone calling, “You’re playing the fool again. Your Cousin Lin wants you.”
It sounded like Yuanyang’s voice, yet when he turned he could see no one. While he was vacillating she suddenly beckoned to him from outside the gate and he hurried joyfully over. Yuanyang’s shadowy figure walked ahead so fast that he could not overtake her.
“Good sister, wait for me!” he cried.
She paid no attention, continuing on her way, so that Baoyu was forced to put on a spurt. Then he saw another fairyland with high pavilions, stately mansions with hanging eaves, and among them the indistinct figures of palace maids. As he feasted his eyes on this scene he forgot Yuanyang and his legs carried him through a palace gate. Inside were all manner of exotic flowers and herbs unknown to him, while in a flower-bed surrounded by a white stone balustrade grew a green plant, the tips of its leaves a light red. He wondered what rare plant this could be that it was so specially treasured, observing that the faintest breeze set it swaying incessantly, and that though it was so small and had no blossoms its delicate grace was utterly enchanting.
He was looking on raptly when someone beside him demanded, “Where did this oaf come from to spy on our fairy plant?”
He swung round in dismay to see a fairy maid and explained to her with a bow, “While looking for Sister Yuanyang I blundered into this fairy realm. Please pardon my presumption! May I ask what place this is? Why did Sister Yuanyang come here to tell me that Cousin Lin wants me? I beg you to enlighten me.”
“Who knows your cousins?” the fairy maid retorted. “I am keeping watch over this fairy plant, and no mortals are allowed to loiter here.”
Reluctant to leave he pleaded, “Sister Fairy, if you are in charge of these fairy plants you must be the Goddess of Flowers. Do tell me what makes this plant unique!”
“That’s a long story,” she answered. “This plant, Vermilion Pearl, used to dwell on the shore of the Sacred River and was withering away until it was revived by being watered every day with sweet dew by the attendant Shen Ying. Because of this, it went down to the world of men to repay Shen Ying’s kindness. Now that it has returned to the realm of truth, the Goddess of Disenchantment has ordered me to watch over it and not let butterflies or bees molest it.”
Baoyu could not fathom this. Convinced that he had met the Goddess of Flowers and determined not to let slip this chance, he persisted, “If you are in charge of this plant, Sister Fairy, there must be others in charge of those countless rare flowers. I won’t trouble you to tell me who all of them are, but which fairy is in charge of the hibiscus?”
“That I can’t tell you, but my mistress may know.”
“Who is your mistress, sister?”
“The Queen of Tear-stained Bamboos.”
“That’s it!” Baoyu exclaimed. “The Queen of Bamboos, I’d have you know, is my cousin Lin Daiyu.”
“Nonsense! This is the celestial abode of goddesses. Even if you call your cousin the Queen of Bamboos she’s no Ehuang or Nuying—how could my mistress be related to mortals? If you go on talking so wildly, I’ll call guards to drive you out!”
In abashed dismay Baoyu was just withdrawing when a messenger arrived to announce, “The attendant Shen Ying is invited to enter.”
The fairy maid said, “I’ve been waiting all this time, but he hasn’t put in an appearance. So how can I send him in?’
“Isn’t that him leaving now?”
Then the fairy maid hurried out calling, “Please come back, Shen Ying!”
Baoyu, thinking it was somebody else she wanted and afraid of being driven away, made off as fast as he could.
Suddenly his way was barred by a sword and he was ordered to halt. In panic he looked up and saw Third Sister You. Slightly reassured he pleaded, “Sister, why should you threaten me too?”
“All the men of your house are a bad lot, spoiling people’s reputations and breaking up marriages! Now that you’re here I’m not going to let you off!”
Reduced to despair by this threat, Baoyu heard a voice behind him call, “Sister, stop him! Don’t let him get away!”
“On my mistress’ orders,” Third Sister You told Baoyu, “I’ve been waiting for a long time. Now that we’ve met, with one stroke of my sword I’m to cut through your involvements in the mundane world!”
This made Baoyu even more frantic, not that he fully understood her meaning. Turning to run, he found Qingwen behind him and torn between sorrow and joy appealed to her, “I’ve lost my way all on my own, and run into enemies. I want to go back but have none of you with me. Thank goodness you’re here, Sister Qingwen! Do take me home at once.”
“Don’t be so alarmed, sir,” she said. “I’m not Qingwen but have come on our Queen’s orders to take you to her. No one is going to harm you.”
Nonplussed he replied, “You say your Queen wants to see me. Who is she?”
“This is no time to ask questions. You’ll know when you meet.”
Baoyu had no choice but to follow her, and watching her carefully he felt certain she was Qingwen. “No doubt about it, that’s her face and her voice,” he told himself. “So why should she deny it? Well, I’m too confused to bother about that now. When I see her mistress I’ll beg her to forgive me for anything I’ve done wrong. After all, women are so kindhearted, she’s bound to excuse my presumption.”
By now they had reached a fine palace blazing with colour, with a clump of bamboos in the courtyard, outside the door several pines. Under the eaves stood maids dressed like palace attendants who at sight of him murmured, “Is this the attendant Shen Ying?”
The maid who had brought him there said, “Yes, it is. Go in quickly to announce him.”
One of the waiting-maids beckoned Baoyu with a smile, and he followed her through several buildings to the main apartment which had a pearl curtain over its lofty door.
“Wait here till you’re sent for,” she told him, and in abject silence he did so while she went in, reappearing soon to say, “You may go in to pay your respects.”
Another maid rolled up the portiere, and Baoyu saw a garlanded young lady in embroidered robes seated inside. Raising his eyes to her face he saw it was Daiyu.
“So here you are, cousin!” he blurted out. “How I’ve been longing for you!”
The waiting-maids outside expostulated, “This attendant has no manners! Out you go, quick!” One of them lowered the portiere again.
Baoyu longed to go in but dared not, yet was reluctant to leave. He wanted to question the waiting-maids, but none of them knew him and they drove him out. Qingwen, when he looked round for her, was nowhere to be seen. Filled with misgivings he left disconsolately, still with no one to guide him, unable to find the way by which he had come. He was in a quandary when he caught sight of Xifeng under the eaves of a house beckoning to him.
“Thank goodness!” he exclaimed. “I’m home again! What flummoxed me so just now?” He ran towards her crying, “So this is where you are, sister. The people here have been plaguing me, and Cousin Lin refused to see me,
I don’t know why.”
As he reached her he saw it was not Xifeng but Qin Keqing, the first wife of Jia Rong. He halted and asked where Xifeng was. Instead of answering, Keqing went inside.
Not venturing to follow her, he stood there woodenly in a daze and sighed, “What have I done wrong to make them all cut me like this?” He burst out crying.
At once guards in yellow turbans with whips in their hands bore down on him demanding, “Where is this fellow from that he dares intrude into this fairy realm of bliss! Off you go!”
Afraid to protest, Baoyu was trying to find a way out when in the distance he saw a group of girls approaching, chatting and laughing. He was pleased to see that one of them looked like Yingchun. “I’ve lost my way,” he called to her. “Come to my rescue!” At once the guards behind gave chase, and as he dashed off headlong the girls changed into demons too and joined in the pursuit.
Baoyu was desperate when along came the monk who had returned his jade. Holding up a mirror he declared, “I have come on orders from the Imperial Consort to save you.”
The demons instantly vanished—all left was the desolate plain.
Seizing the monk by the arm, Baoyu implored him, “I remember you were the one to bring me here, but then you disappeared. I met many people dear to me, but they all ignored me and suddenly turned into demons. Was that a dream or did it really happen? Please explain this to me, father.”
“Did you pry into any secrets here?” asked the monk.
Baoyu thought, “Since he brought me to this fairy realm, he himself must be an immortal; so how can I hide anything from him? Besides, I want him to elucidate this.” He therefore answered, “Yes, I saw some registers.”
“There you are! After reading them can’t you understand? All earthly ties of affection are bewitchments. Just bear what has happened carefully in mind, and I shall explain it to you later on.” He gave him a violent shove. “Now go back!” Baoyu lost his balance and fell with a cry of dismay.
