The Golden Days

by Cao Xueqin

  Jia Rong, who was standing somewhat away from the light, availed himself of the shadow’s concealment to give Xi-feng’s dress a surreptitious tug. She understood perfectly well what his meaning was, but pretended not to, dismissing him with a curt wave of the hand and addressing herself instead to Jia Lian:

  ‘Don’t be so officious, Lian! Cousin Zhen is no less capable of choosing the right person for the job than we are. What do you mean by asking the boy if he’s qualified ? He’s as much qualified as any of the rest of us. He’s old enough to have seen a pig run, even if he’s not old enough to have eaten pork! In any case, I’m sure Cousin Zhen only chose him as a figurehead. You don’t seriously suppose that he’ll be the one to discuss prices and deal with the business side of the expedition ? -I think myself it’s a very good choice!’

  ‘Of course it is,’ said Jia Lian. ‘I don’t dispute it. I merely thought we ought to do a few of his sums for him before he goes. Where is the money for this coming from?’ he asked Jia Qiang.

  ‘We were discussing that just now,’ said Jia Qiang. ‘Gaffer Lai says that there’s no point in taking money with us from here. He says the Zhens of Kiangnan hold fifty thousand taels of ours on deposit and he can give us a letter of credit to take to them when we go. We’ll draw out thirty thousand first and leave the rest to buy lanterns, lamps, and curtains with later on.’

  Jia Lian nodded appreciatively.

  ‘Good idea.’

  ‘Well, if that’s all settled,’ Xi-feng put in quickly, ‘I’ve got two very reliable young men for you to take with you, Qiang. I’m sure you’ll find them extremely useful.’

  ‘What a coincidence!’ said Jia Qiang. ‘I was just about to ask if you could recommend a couple of helpers!’

  He asked for their names, and Xi-feng turned to Nannie Zhao to supply them. But the old nurse was so bemused by all this talk of policy and high finance that she appeared to be in a sort of coma, which it took a sharp nudge from Patience to rouse her from. When she answered it was in a gabble, to make up for the awkward pause.

  ‘One of them is called Zhao Tian-liang, the other is called Zhao Tian-dong.’

  ‘Mind you don’t forget!’ said Xi-feng. ‘Now I’m off to see to my own affairs.’ And she left the room.

  Jia Rong slipped out after her.

  ‘If you will make a list of all the things you want,’ he said, smilingly and softly, ‘I’ll see that he gets them for you, gracious lady.’

  ‘Gracious arsehole!’ said Xi-feng. ‘Do you think you can buy my favour with a few knick-knacks ? I don’t like all this whispering in corners.’

  She walked away without giving him a chance to reply.

  Meanwhile Jia Qiang was making a somewhat similar proposal to Jia Lian.

  ‘If there’s anything I can get for you while I’m away, Uncle, I shall be glad to wangle it.’

  ‘My, my!’ said Jia Lian. ‘Let’s not get carried away, then! I must say, for one who’s only just started, you certainly haven’t lost much time in picking up the tricks of the trade! Yes, I dare say I shall write and let you know if I find I’m short of anything.’

  With these words he sent the two young men back to the other house. Their departure was followed by a succession of three or four visits by servants reporting on household matters, after which he felt so exhausted that he instructed the servants on the inner gate to refuse admittance to any others and to inform them that he would deal with their business next day. It was midnight by the time Xi-feng got back to bed.

  But the affairs of that night are no part of our story.

  Rising early next morning, Jia Lian first called on his father and uncles and then went to the Ning-guo mansion, where, with Cousin Zhen, he joined a group consisting of the older stewards and domestics and a few friends and clients of the family in making a complete survey of the Ning-guo and Rong-guo properties with a view to deciding where the various buildings of the Separate Residence should be sited. He also helped them interview the craftsmen who would undertake the work.

  After the assembling of builders and artisans the assembling of materials began: a continuous flow of supplies converging on the site from every direction, from precious consignments of gold, silver, copper and tin, to huge, bulky loads of builder’s clay, timber, bricks and tiles.

  Various walls, including the surrounding walls of the All-scents Garden, and some of the garden’s pavilions were demolished so that the north-west part of the Ning-guo property and the large open court on the north-east side of Rong-guo House were thrown into a single site. A range of servants’ quarters on the east side of the Rong-guo grounds had already been demolished. The Ning-guo and Rong-guo properties had previous to this been divided by an alley-way running from north to south between them, but as it was not a public thoroughfare, no problem was involved in closing it and incorporating part of it in the rest of the new site.

  The All-scents Garden had been watered by a stream led in by a culvert which ran under a corner of the north wall. Now that the garden was being integrated in the larger site, it was no longer necessary to lead the water in at this point.

  The artificial hills, rocks, trees and shrubs of All-scents Garden were, of course, insufficient for the whole of the new site; but the area occupied by Jia She was the original garden of Rong-guo House and plentifully supplied with bamboos, trees, rocks, pavilions, kiosks and pergolas capable of being moved elsewhere. By pooling the resources of these two gardens – the All-scents Garden of Ning-guo House and the original Rong-guo garden where Jia She lived – and redistributing them over a single area, it would be possible to make great economies in both labour and materials, and when the estimates came to be made it was found that the requirements, in terms of completely new materials, would be comparatively modest.

  The conception as a whole and the designs for its execution were alike the work of a well-known landscape gardener familiar to all and sundry by the sobriquet of ‘Horticultural Hu.

  Jia Zheng was unused to matters of a practical nature and left the management of men and the control of operations to a consortium consisting of Jia She, Cousin Zhen and Jia Lian, the stewards Lai Da, Lai Sheng and Lin Zhi-xiao, the Clerk of Stores Wu Xin-deng, and two of his literary gentlemen, Zhan Guang and Cheng Ri-xing. The digging of pools, the raising of hills, the siting and erection of lodges and pavilions, the planting of bamboos and flowers – in a word, all matters pertaining to the landscaping and layout of the gardens, were planned and supervised by Horticultural Hu. Jia Zheng would merely drop in occasionally when he got back from Court and look around. On any important matters he sought the advice of Jia She and the rest.

  Jia She led a life of cultured ease and never did anything. On routine matters of no great importance Cousin Zhen would either report to him in person or send him a brief note when the thing was done. If consultation was unavoidable, he would send along Lai Da or one of the others for a reply.

  Jia Rong’s sole task was to supervise the making of objects in gold and silver.

  Jia Qiang had already left for Soochow.

  Cousin Zhen, Lai Da and the rest were the ones who did most of the real work. It was they who hired workmen, kept accounts, and supervised and inspected each job as it was undertaken.

  The amount of noise and activity generated by these operations could not be described in a few words, and for the time being we shall not attempt the task.

  The family’s recent preoccupation with these important developments had released Bao-yu from his father’s periodical quizzing about the progress of his studies. Unfortunately the relief of mind which this would otherwise have afforded him was displaced by a grave concern for Qin Zhong, whose sickness seemed to be daily worsening. Under such circumstances it was impossible for him to feel happy about anything else.

  One morning, just as he had finished washing and dressing and was thinking of going round to Grandmother Jia to ask if he might pay Qin Zhong another visit, he caught sight of Tealeaf dodging about behind the sc
reen wall of the inner gate and evidently trying to catch his attention. Bao-yu hurried over to him.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Master Qin. He’s dying!’

  Bao-yu was stunned.

  ‘Dying? When I saw him yesterday he seemed quite lucid. How can he be dying so soon ?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Tealeaf. ‘But that’s what the old gaffer said just now who came round to tell me.’

  Bao-yu hurried back and told Grandmother Jia. She instructed some of the more reliable servants to go with him and briefly admonished him before he went:

  ‘When you get there you may stay with him to the end, since you have been such good friends; but you must come back as soon as it is over. Don’t hang about!’

  Bao-yu hurried off to change, only to find, on re-emerging, that the carriage was still not ready. Anxious lest he should arrive too late, he ran up and down the courtyard in a frenzy of impatience, imploring the servants to make haste; and when it at last arrived, he flung himself in it and drove off at great

  speed, hotly pursued by Li Gui, Tealeaf and the others attending him.

  The house, when they reached it, appeared silent and deserted. Entering together in a tight little knot, master and servants surged through like swarming bees to the inner apartment at the back where Qin Zhong lay, causing great consternation among the two aunts and half-dozen girl cousins who were tending him and who were unable to conceal themselves before the advent of this masculine invasion.

  At this stage Qin Zhong had already lost consciousness several times and, in accordance with the Northern custom which forbids a sick man to breathe his last on the kang, had some time since been lifted on to a trestle bed to die. Bao-yu gave an involuntary cry when he saw where he was lying and broke into noisy weeping. He was quickly restrained by Li Gui:

  ‘You know how delicate Master Qin is. I expect the kang was too hard for him and they have put him here so that he can lie a bit more easy. You mustn’t cry like that or you will make him worse!’

  Bao-yu held back his sobs and drew close to his dying friend. Qin Zhong’s face was waxen. His eyes were closed tight and he seemed to breathe with difficulty, twisting his head from side to side on the pillow.

  ‘Jing-qing, old fellow! It’s me! It’s Bao-yu!’ – He called him several times, but Qin Zhong seemed unaware of his presence. Again he called:

  ‘It’s Bao-yu!’

  In point of fact Qin Zhong’s soul had already left his body and the few faint gasps of breath in his failing lungs were the only life that now remained in it. The ministers of the underworld, armed with a warrant and chains to bind him with, were at that very moment confronting him; but his soul was refusing to go quietly. Remembering that he left no one behind him to look after his family’s affairs, and bethinking him of poor Sapientia whose whereabouts were still unknown, he entreated them most piteously to spare him. But the infernal visitants had no ear for his entreaties and silenced him with angry rebuke:

  ‘You’re an educated young fellow: haven’t you heard the saying

  If Yama calls at midnight hour

  No man can put off death till four – ?

  We ministers of the nether world, from the highest down to the lowest, all have unbending iron natures and – unlike the officials of the mortal world, who are always doing kindnesses and showing favours and inventing little tricks and dodges for frustrating the course of justice – we are incapable of showing partiality.’

  Suddenly, above their angry shouting, Qin Zhong heard a tiny cry:

  ‘It’s Bao-yu!’

  At once he renewed his entreaties:

  ‘Good gentlemen, be merciful! Give me just a moment for a few words with a very dear friend of mine, and I’ll be back directly!’

  ‘What is it now?’ asked the demons. ‘What friend?’

  ‘I won’t deceive you, gentlemen. It’s a descendant of the Duke of Rong-guo. His name is Bao-yu.’

  ‘What?’ screamed the officer in charge of the party in great alarm. He turned angrily on his demon minions;

  ‘I told you we ought to let him go back for a bit, but you wouldn’t listen. Now look what’s happened! He’s gone and called up a person full of life and health to come here right in our midst! This is terrible!’

  The demons showed signs of disarray on observing their leader to be so affected, and there was some angry muttering:

  ‘Yer Honour was putting on a brave enough show a short while ago. Why should the name “Bao-yu” throw you into such a state of commotion ? If you ask us, seeing that he’s upper world and we’re lower world, there’s nothing to be afraid of. We might just as well carry this one off now and have done with it.’

  The trepidation of their leader, who was perhaps thinking more of Bao-yu’s demon-repelling talisman than of its wearer, was fat from comforted by this reflection.

  ‘No! No! No!’ he shouted, and compelled them to let the soul return to its body.

  With the return of his soul Qin Zhong regained consciousness and opened his eyes. He could see Bao-yu standing beside him; but his throat was so choked with phlegm that he was unable to utter a word. He could only fasten his eyes on him and slowly shake his head. Then there was a rasping sound in his throat and he slid once more into the dark.

  What followed will be told in the following chapter.

  Chapter 17

  The inspection of the new garden becomes

  a test of talent

  And Rong-guo House makes itself ready for

  an important visitor

  Now that Qin Zhong was indisputably dead, Bao-yu wept long and bitterly, and it was some time before Li Gui and the rest could calm him. Even after their return he continued tearful and distressed. Grandmother Jia contributed thirty or forty taels towards Qin Zhong’s funeral expenses and made additional provision for offerings to the dead. Bao-yu condoled and sacrificed, and on the seventh day followed his friend’s coffin to the giave. He continued in daily grief for Qin Zhong for a very long time afterwards. But grief cannot mend our losses, and a day did at last arrive when he had ceased to mourn.

  One day Cousin Zhen came to Jia Zheng with his team of helpers to report that work on the new garden had been completed.

  ‘Uncle She has already had a look,’ said Cousin Zhen. ‘Now we are only waiting for you to look round it to tell us if there is anything you think will need altering and also to decide what inscriptions ought to be used on the boards everywhere.’

  Jia Zheng reflected a while in silence.

  ‘These inscriptions are going to be difficult,’ he said eventually. ‘By rights, of course, Her Grace should have the privilege of doing them herself; but she can scarcely be expected to make them up out of her head without having seen any of the views which they are to describe. On the other hand, if we wait until she has already visited the garden before asking her, half the pleasure of the visit will be lost. All those prospects and pavilions – even the rocks and trees and flowers will seem somehow incomplete without that touch of poetry which only the written word can lend a scene.’

  ‘My dear patron, you are so right,’ said one of the literary gentlemen who sat with him. ‘But we have had an idea. The inscriptions for the various parts of the garden obviously cannot be dispensed with; nor, equally obviously, can they be decided in advance. Our suggestion is that we should compose provisional names and couplets to suit the places where inscriptions are required, and have them painted on rectangular paper lanterns which can be hung up temporarily – either horizontally or vertically as the case may be – when Her Grace comes to visit. We can ask her to decide on the permanent names after she has inspected the garden. Is not this a solution of the dilemma?’

  ‘It is indeed,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘When we look round the garden presently, we must all try to think of words that can be used. If they seem suitable, we can keep them for the lanterns. If not, we can call for Yu-cun to come and help us out.’

  ‘Your own suggestions are sure to be admirabl
e, Sir Zheng,’ said the literary gentlemen ingratiatingly. “There will be no need to call in Yu-cun.’

  Jia Zheng smiled deprecatingly.

  ‘I am afraid it is not as you imagine. In my youth I had at best only indifferent skill in the art of writing verses about natural objects – birds and flowers and scenery and the like; and now that I am older and have to devote all my energies to official documents and government papers, I am even more out of touch with this sort of thing than I was then; so that even if I were to try my hand at it, I fear that my efforts would be rather dull and pedantic ones. Instead of enhancing the interest and beauty of the garden, they would probably have a deadening effect upon both.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter,’ the literary gentlemen replied. ‘We can all try our hands at composing. If each of us contributes what he is best at, and if we then select the better attempts and reject the ones that are not so good, we should be able to manage all right.’

  ‘That seems to me a very good suggestion,’ said Jia Zheng.

  ‘As the weather today is so warm and pleasant, let us all go and take a turn round the garden now!’

  So saying he rose to his feet and conducted his little retinue of literary luminaries towards the garden. Cousin Zhen hurried on ahead to warn those in charge that they were coming.

  As Bao-yu was still in very low spirits these days because of his grief for Qin Zhong, Grandmother Jia had hit on the idea of sending him into the newly made garden to play. By unlucky chance she had selected this very day on which to try out her antidote. He had in fact only just entered the garden when Cousin Zhen came hurrying towards him.

  ‘Better get out of here!’ said Cousin Zhen with an amused smile. ‘Your father will be here directly!’

  Bao-yu streaked back towards the gate, a string of nurses and pages hurrying at his heels. But he had only just turned the corner on coming out of it when he almost ran into the arms of Jia Zheng and his party coming from the opposite direction. Escape was impossible. He simply had to stand meekly to one side and await instructions.