The Plum in the Golden Vase or, Chin P'ing Mei
Page 27
When Ch’en Ching-chi heard this, he was secretly pleased and thought to himself, “So it’s the same Temple of Eternal Felicity after all.
This coincidence was fated to occur.
It is fantastic that Sister Six is also buried there.”
He then took leave of his two friends, whipped up his donkey, and made his way outside the city straight to the Temple of Eternal Felicity.
On meeting Abbot Tao-chien, he did not mention the scripture recitation for his father but asked the abbot, “Where is the grave of the woman from Commandant Chou Hsiu’s household that was buried here recently?”
“It is underneath the white poplar tree behind the temple,” the abbot replied. “They said that it was the body of the elder sister of the young mistress from the commandant’s household.”
Ch’en Ching-chi did not even bother to go look at his father’s coffin but went first to P’an Chin-lien’s grave with his paper money and sacrificial offerings.
After presenting the offerings and burning the paper money, he wept, saying, “Sister Six, your younger brother Ch’en Ching-chi has respectfully burned a packet of paper money on your behalf. May you:
Find an appropriate place in which to live;
And use the cash to cope with any problems.”14
Only after he had finished sacrificing to her did he proceed to the abbot’s quarters in order to burn paper money before his father’s coffin and offer a sacrifice to him. He then presented the abbot with the money to pay for a scripture recitation and asked him to arrange for eight Buddhist monks to hold a scripture reading on the twentieth to mark the final weekly commemoration of his father’s death. The abbot accepted the money offered for the scripture recitation and provided him with a vegetarian repast, after which Ch’en Ching-chi returned home to report to his mother.
On the twentieth, they all went to the temple to burn incense and select an auspicious day for the funeral procession. Later on, after his father’s coffin had been transported to their ancestral graveyard and properly buried, they returned home, where mother and son continued to live together. But no more of this.
To resume our story, one day during the first ten days of the second month, when the weather was mild, Wu Yüeh-niang, together with Meng Yü-lou, Sun Hsüeh-o, Hsi-men Ta-chieh, and Hsiao-yü, made their way out to the front gate in order to observe the coming and going of the carts and horses, and enjoy:
The liveliness of the teeming crowds.15
While there, they happened to observe a throng of men and women following in the wake of a Buddhist monk, who had an imposingly corpulent figure, wore bronze effigies of three Buddhas on his head, and bore a number of lantern trees on his body.
The sleeves of his apricot-yellow gown
ruffled in the wind;
While the ankles of his naked feet were
immersed in the mire.
He claimed to be an itinerant monk who had been ordained at Mount Wu-t’ai16 and had arrived here in the course of his wanderings in the endeavor to raise money and supplies for the erection of a Buddhist sanctuary there. An author of olden times has bequeathed us a few lines describing the virtues of such itinerant monks.
Assuming the lotus position to practice meditation,
Explaining the scriptures and expounding the Dharma,17
Raising their brows and blinking their eyes,
They struggle to attain the truth of the patriarchs.18
Relying on their religion to seek sustenance,
They propound the regulations of the Buddhist faith.
By day, they only sport their placards
and rattle their bells;
At night, they manipulate their spears
and flaunt their clubs.
Sometimes, they kowtow with their bald
heads outside the gate;
When hungry, they give themselves loud
slaps along the street.
Reality is vacuity, vacuity is reality;
But who has ever seen living beings
escape the mundane world?
They may go and come, and come and go;19
But who have they managed to escort
to the Western Paradise?
When the monk saw Wu Yüeh-niang and the other women gathered at the gate, he came forward and saluted them in the Buddhist fashion, saying, “You venerable lay bodhisattva-like benefactors, though you may inhabit:
Vast courtyards and secluded mansions,
are all predestined to be present at the Dragon Flower Assembly.20 I have come down from Mount Wu-t’ai in the hope of cementing our virtuous affinity by soliciting the funds to erect a temple to the Ten Kings of the Underworld and a sanctuary dedicated to the Three Jewels, The Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. The success of this effort is dependent upon the willingness of you bodhisattvas, and others of:
The patrons in the ten directions,
to:
Widely sow your fields of fortune,21
so that by disbursing your wealth you can:
Together achieve a major endeavor,
and thus ensure:
A just reward in the life to come.
This humble monk is merely an intermediary.”
Upon listening to his appeal, Yüeh-niang turned to Hsiao-yü and directed her to fetch a monk’s hat, a pair of monk’s sandals, a string of copper cash, and a peck of white rice from her room. It so happens that Yüeh-niang had always been given to:
Almsgiving, or providing vegetarian
meals for monks,
so that during her leisure hours she devoted herself to making monk’s hats and monk’s sandals in order to give to them.
When Hsiao-yü brought these things out, Yüeh-niang said to her, “You go ask His Reverence to come forward, and bestow these things upon him.”
Hsiao-yü, thereupon:
Deliberately adopting an arrogant air,22
called out in a loud voice, saying, “You shaven-pated donkey of a monk, why haven’t you come over here? My mistress is bestowing all these things on you, and you haven’t even kowtowed in response.”
Yüeh-niang rebuked her, saying, “You crazy, depraved little stinker! He is a monk, and a devoted Buddhist.
As though you didn’t know any better,
how can you bring yourself to abuse him that way? It’s really outrageous. Little whore that you are, there’s no telling how much evil karma you will have accumulated before you’re through.”
Hsiao-yü laughed at this and responded, “Mistress, as for this lousy monk, why is it that when I called him over, he devoted himself to:
Looking me over from top to bottom,
with those furtive eyes of his?”
The monk, for his part, accepted the sandals, hat, cash, and rice with both hands, saluted Yüeh-niang in the Buddhist fashion, and said, “Many thanks for your largess, you venerable bodhisattva of a benefactor.”
“This shaven-pated rascal is really discourteous?” remarked Hsiao-yü. “All of us are standing here, but he has only offered us two salutations. Why has he not offered one to me?”
“You little piece,” said Yüeh-niang. “How can you:
Scramble black and white,
so blatantly? He is a son of the Buddha, and you are not worthy of receiving his salutation.”
“Mistress,” responded Hsiao-yü, “If he is a son of the Buddha, who are the Buddha’s daughters?”
“I imagine,” said Yüeh-niang, “that it is ordained nuns who are the daughters of the Buddha.”
“If you say that people like Nun Hsüeh, Nun Wang, and the abbess of the Kuan-yin Nunnery are all daughters of the Buddha,” continued Hsiao-yü, “who are the sons-in-law of the Buddha?”
Yüeh-niang could not help laughing at this and reproved her, saying, “You lousy little whore! You’ve developed such an:
Oily mouth and a slippery tongue,
that you constantly resort to vulgarity.”
“Mistress,” responded Hsiao-yü, “you’re on
ly directing your criticism at me, but this shaven-pated monk, with his:
Thievish looks and prying eyes,
has been constantly ogling me.”
“The fact that he looks at you that way,” said Meng Yü-lou, “must be because he recognizes you as a candidate for salvation.”
“If he really wants to save me,” responded Hsiao-yü, “I’m willing to go along with him.”
The gathering of womenfolk couldn’t help laughing over this, but Yüeh-niang reproved her in a loud voice, saying, “You little whore! It seems that all you can do is persist in:
Blaspheming monks and profaning Buddhas.”23
Meanwhile, the monk in question accepted the donations and proceeded nonchalantly on his way with the bronze effigies of three Buddhas on his head.
“Mistress,” complained Hsiao-yü, “though you rebuked me for cursing him, as you saw yourself, that lousy shaven-pated rascal gave me another indecent look as he departed.”
There is a poem that describes Yüeh-niang’s proclivity to:
Cultivate her virtue by charity to monks.
Maintaining my widowhood and reading the sutras
the years and months flow by;
Private dissipation and meaningless indulgence
have long been anathema to me.
My person is just like the moon near the edge
of the horizon;
That will not let itself be intruded upon by
floating clouds.
As Yüeh-niang and the others continued their conversation by the gate, they suddenly observed that Auntie Hsüeh was passing by on the street with her box of trinkets in hand.
When she saw Yüeh-niang and the others she bowed to them, and Yüeh-niang asked, “Where are you headed? And why have we not seen so much as your shadow around here recently?”
“I hardly know what it is that keeps me so busy all day,” said Auntie Hsüeh. During the last few days, the family of His Honor Judicial Commissioner Chang Mao-te who lives on Main Street has contracted a marriage between his son and the niece of Eunuch Director Hsü from the northern quarter, a match that was proposed by myself and Auntie Wen. Yesterday, as part of the ‘third-day celebration,’ they put on a lavish party, which kept me so busy that even though the young lady from your place who is now the mistress of Commandant Chou Hsiu’s household sent for me, I was unable to go. Who knows how irritated with me she may be?”
“So where are you headed right now?” Yüeh-niang asked.
“There is something that I have respectfully come to tell you about,” said Auntie Hsüeh.
“If there is something you want to communicate,” said Yüeh-niang, “come inside and tell me about it.”
So saying, she ushered Auntie Hsüeh back to the master suite in the rear compound and offered her a seat.
When they had consumed a serving of tea, Auntie Hsüeh said, “Venerable lady, you may not know about it, but last year in the Eastern Capital your son-in-law’s father Ch’en Hung fell ill and died, and his wife called upon your son-in-law to come and help bring their dependents and his coffin home. They arrived here during the first month, and the scripture recitation, funeral procession, and burial ceremony have already taken place. I had assumed that you knew about all this, but if so, why did you not go burn some paper money on his behalf, or visit with your relatives?”
“If you had not come to tell us about it, how could we have known?” said Yüeh-niang. No one bothered to inform us. All we heard was that P’an Chin-lien had been murdered by her brother-in-law and was buried, along with Dame Wang, in a temporary grave. And we don’t even know what her situation may be at present.”
Auntie Hsüeh opined, “It has always been true that for P’an Chin-lien, as for all of us:
Her place of birth and place of death
were predetermined.
If the Fifth Lady’s conduct had not caused her to be expelled from the household, everything would have been all right. But, for no good reason, since she:
Was not the sort to abide by her lot,
she chose to engage in an ugly affair, and got herself expelled. If she had remained in the household, how would her brother-in-law have been able to murder her? After all:
For every injustice there is a perpetrator;
For every debt there is a creditor.
It is thanks to the young lady from your household, Ch’un-mei, who couldn’t get over her intimate feelings for her former mistress, that someone was sent to purchase a coffin, take possession of her corpse, and give it a proper burial. Otherwise, it would still be exposed to the public gaze in the street. Her brother-in-law has not been apprehended, and there was nobody else concerned about her fate.”
Sun Hsüeh-o interrupted from the sidelines, saying, “It hasn’t been long since Ch’un-mei was sold into the household of Commandant Chou Hsiu. How could her status have risen so quickly to the point that she was able to dispense the silver needed to buy a coffin for her? How could the commandant help being annoyed with her? Who does she think she is, anyway?”
“Ai-ya!” responded Auntie Hsüeh. “You may not know it, but the commandant has really become attached to her. He spends every night in her quarters.
She has but to say one thing,
And he will comply with ten.
No sooner did he take her into his household than he noticed how attractive and intelligent she was, provided her with a suite of three rooms on the western side of the courtyard, assigned a maid to wait upon her, and spent three successive nights in her room. He had outfits of clothing for the four seasons tailored for her and allowed her to put her hair up like a regular lady. At the party on the ‘third-day celebration’ he rewarded me with a tael of silver and a bolt of satin. His first wife is forty-nine years old, is blind in both eyes, restricts herself to vegetarian fare, and does not concern herself with household affairs. His concubine Sun Erh-niang resides on the eastern side of the courtyard and has borne him a daughter. Although she is theoretically in charge of the household, she has her hands full looking after her daughter. As a result, the keys to all the storerooms in the house, both large and small, have been entrusted to Ch’un-mei. The commandant responds favorably to every request she has to make. So how can you say that she would be unable to disburse such a sum of silver?”
With these few words she managed to reduce both Yüeh-niang and Sun Hsüeh-o to silence.
After sitting a while longer, Auntie Hsüeh got up to go, and Yüeh-niang said to her, “If you are willing to come back tomorrow, I will prepare an offertory table, a bolt of fabric, and a packet of paper money for the use of the dead, and impose upon you to escort Hsi-men Ta-chieh to her father-in-law’s tomb in order to burn the paper money on his behalf.”
“Are you not going to go yourself?” asked Auntie Hsüeh.
“Just tell them I have been feeling out of sorts,” said Yüeh-niang, “and that I will pay a visit to them on another day.”
Auntie Hsüeh agreed to these arrangements, saying, “Tell the young lady to get everything ready and wait for me. I will come by after lunch.”
“Where are you off to now?” inquired Yüeh-niang. “If it is the commandant’s place, forget it.”
“If I don’t go, they will be annoyed to death with me,” said Auntie Hsüeh. “They have sent a young servant to summon me several times already.”
“What are they summoning you for,” asked Yüeh-niang.
“Mistress,” responded Auntie Hsüeh, “you may not know it, but she is already four or five months pregnant. His Honor is utterly delighted and has probably summoned me in order to reward me.”
So saying, she picked up her box of trinkets, said farewell, and proceeded on her way.
“What that old whore says is completely without any basis,” remarked Sun Hsüeh-o. “How long has it been since she was sold into the commandant’s household? Scarcely long enough to have developed half a wombful of child. That commandant, at the very least, has a number of concubines at
his disposal. So why should he insist on favoring her? How can she overstate things so?”
“He already has a legitimate wife,” said Yüeh-niang, “as well as a concubine who has borne him a daughter.”
“It’s outrageous!” pronounced Sun Hsüeh-o. “Just an example of the loquaciousness of a go-between.
Producing hundred-foot waves out of a
foot’s worth of water.”
What Sun Hsüeh-o said that day was not without consequences. Truly:
Heaven has seen fit to bestow both
the needle and thread;
That bring out discordant patterns
from the fabric’s ground.24
There is a poem that testifies to this:
One recalls the time when she was a servant
at her mistress’s beck and call;
Who could have anticipated that today her
prospects would be so different?
In this world, the infinite possibilities
are all predetermined;25
Scoff not that, in this floating life one’s
efforts may prove vain.26
If you want to know the outcome of these events,
Pray consult the story related in the following chapter.
Chapter 89
ON THE CH’ING-MING FESTIVAL
THE WIDOW VISITS THE NEW GRAVE; WU YÜEH-NIANG BLUNDERS INTO THE TEMPLE OF ETERNAL FELICITY
Tossed by the wind, enshrouded in mist,
the brocade banner flutters;
During this era of great peace1 the days
are beginning to grow longer.
Wine is capable of enhancing the courage
of even a stouthearted hero;2
And is equally effective at alleviating
the depression of a beauty.
Deep within the three-foot-long branches
on the willow-lined bank;
The tavern’s signpost rises at an angle
beside the apricot trees.
The stalwart who has yet to accomplish
his lifelong ambition;3
Is prone to sing haughtily as he enters
the Land of Drunkenness.4
THE STORY GOES that the next day Wu Yüeh-niang saw to the preparation of an offertory table, replete with a pig’s head and the three sacrificial animals, soup and rice, paper money for the dead, and the like, wrapped up a bolt of fabric, and directed Hsi-men Ta-chieh to get herself ready by donning plain white mourning garments, and taking her seat in a sedan chair. Auntie Hsüeh then took charge of the sacrificial offerings and preceded her along the way to the door of the Ch’en residence. What should she see when she arrived there but Ch’en Ching-chi himself, who happened to be standing in the doorway.