“The other two are Sister Chunmei’s,” the boy said. “She gave them to me so that they might be cleaned with yours.”
“The cunning little wretch!” Jinlian said. “She never uses her own mirrors but always mine. That’s why mine are so dull.”
The boy gave the mirrors to the old man who sat down on a bench, brought out his quicksilver and, in a very short time, polished them all till they shone again. Jinlian took one up and looked at herself. The mirror was like pure clear water.
The lotus and the water chestnut
Cast their reflection on the water.
The breeze brings ripples to the surface
And the green shadows move darkly.
In a pool of autumn waters the lotus appears
Like Chang E in the moon.
She gave the mirrors to Laian to take back. Yulou told Ping’an to go to the shop and ask Fu for some coins for the old man. He took the money but did not move away. “Ask the old man why he doesn’t go away,” Yulou said to Ping’an. “Perhaps he thinks we have not paid him enough.” The old man wept.
“My mistress wants to know why you are so distressed,” Ping’an said to him.
“Brother,” said the old man, “I am sixty-one years old, and I have a son who is twenty-one. He is unmarried but he will do nothing for a living. He gads about everywhere, and I have to come out to the street day after day to earn a little money to support him. He is such an undutiful son that he even takes my money and goes gambling with it. The other day he was mixed up in some trouble and they took him to the courts. There they dealt with him as a pickpocket and beat him twenty strokes. When he came home, he took his mother’s clothes and pawned them all. That upset his mother so much she had to take to her bed and she has stayed there this last fortnight. I upbraided him and he went away. He did not come back and I have looked everywhere for him in vain. Sometimes I think I will not bother to look for him any more, but I am old and he is my only son. There is only he to take care of me in my old age. Yet when he is at home he makes me angry. Life isn’t worth living. I suffer so much and have no place to complain. I would cry my heart out if I could.”
“Go and ask him how old his wife is,” Yulou said to Ping’an.
“She is fifty-five,” the old man said. “She has no children of her own, and she has been ill ever since this trouble. She is getting better now, but I have nothing to give her to feed her. She keeps asking for dried meat. I have been begging everywhere these last few days, but nobody will give me any.”
“Never mind,” Yulou said, “I have some in my room.” She told Laian to go and ask her maid for two pieces.
Jinlian said: “Would your wife like some millet gruel?”
“Would she not?” cried the old man. “Where is there any? If she could only have some, she would be delighted.”
Jinlian told Laian to ask Chunmei for two measures of new millet from that which old woman Pan had brought her, and two dried melons. When he returned, he brought the preserved meat, two measures of millet and two pickled cucumbers. “Old man,” he said, “you are in luck’s way. If she doesn’t feel well enough to eat this, she must be just getting over childbirth, and this millet will help settle her stomach.”
The old man reached out both his hands and took what was brought for him. He put it with his tools, bowed to the ladies, slung everything over his shoulder and went off sounding his rattle.
“Mothers,” said Ping’an, “you shouldn’t have given him so much. He has defrauded you. His wife is a go-between. I saw her on the street only a day or two ago. She hasn’t been at home at all.”
“Why didn’t you tell me so before, you rascal?” Jinlian said.
“I told him he was lucky to have met you two ladies,” Ping’an said.
CHAPTER 59
The Death of Guan’ge
The maple leaves are turning red
The other leaves are already yellow.
Her hair is white as the morning frost
For he of whom she thinks
Is at the gate of the underworld
And she will see him no more.
Though she cries out her heart
There is none to carry her message to the other world.
It is far distant, and the way is covered
With the mist of sorrow.
The pearl is buried
And all earthly things are forgotten.
If her tears were drops of rain
They would fill the Eastern Ocean
With sorrow eternal.
The old mirror cleaner had just gone when suddenly a man came from the East galloping towards them on muleback. He was wearing eye-shades and a broad-brimmed hat. He pulled up at the gate and the two ladies hastily withdrew. When he took off the eyeshades, they knew it was Han Daoguo. Ping’an asked him if the merchandise had come.
“All the wagons are inside the city,” Han said; “I want to know where we are to unload them.”
“Our master is at Major Zhou’s place,” Ping’an said, “but he told me that everything has to be put into the house opposite. Please come in.”
A moment later, Chen Jingji came to take Han Daoguo to see Wu Yueniang. When he came out, he brushed the dust and dirt from his clothes and told Wang Jing to take his baggage home. Yueniang ordered a meal to be served for him. Soon all the wagons arrived. Chen Jingji took the key and unlocked the doors. The porters carried in box after box of merchandise, ten great wagonloads in all, and did not finish till evening. Cui Ben was there to help, and everybody took a hand in the work. The doors were locked again and sealed. Then the porters were paid and dismissed.
Daian went to Major Zhou’s house to tell Ximen Qing that the goods had come, and Ximen, after drinking a few more cups of wine, came home. Han Daoguo was waiting for him in the great hall. They sat down and Han told his master the whole story from beginning to end.
“Did you give my letter to his Lordship Qian?” Ximen asked. “Did he make things easier?”
“Oh, yes!” Han Daoguo said. “Because of that letter, though we had ten wagonloads we paid very much less than the amount due. At the customs I reckoned two boxes as one, and we made out that only two-thirds of them contained silk and that the rest held only tea and incense. So, though we had ten big wagonloads we only paid thirty taels and five qian duty. His Lordship accepted my list without going through the boxes, and passed everything through.”
Ximen Qing was delighted to hear this. “We must send his Lordship a handsome present,” he said. He told Chen Jingji to entertain Han Daoguo and Cui Ben. Afterwards, Han Daoguo went home.
When Wang Liu’er heard that her husband had returned, she bade her maid prepare an especially good meal and waited until the evening. When he came in, he made a reverence before the domestic shrine, took off his clothes, washed, and they began to talk. Han Daoguo told his wife that his mission had been very successful. Wang Liu’er remarked that there seemed to be a good deal of money in his pockets. He told her he had bought two hundred taels’ worth of goods on his own account, wine and rice and so forth. These he had left outside the city and, when he came to sell them, he would certainly do well out of them. Wang Liu’er was very pleased. “Wang Jing,” she said, “tells me that there is now a new manager called Gan, and it has been arranged that we and Brother Cui are to share equally with him in the profits. This will be all to our advantage. The shop is to be opened next month.”
“If there is someone here to look after the shop,” Han Daoguo said, “we shall need a man to go to the South to make the necessary purchases. I suppose our master will send me.”
“You silly fellow,” Wang Liu’er said, “a man who is really capable always gets more work than other people. If our master trusts you, it is because you are such a clever businessman. The proverb says: No man can make money without working for it. If you are sent away for a year or two, I will speak to his Lordship and have you brought back; Gan or Laibao can be sent in your place. Then you will be able to work at ho
me.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Han Daoguo said. “After all, I have a good deal of experience in this outside trade.”
“You must not let it upset you,” his wife said. “You will have more to do than if you were at home.”
Wine was brought. Husband and wife pledged each other. Then they went to bed and enjoyed a pleasant night.
The next day was the first of the eighth month. Ximen’s merchandise had come and he was free. He decided to go and visit Zheng Aiyue. He quietly gave Daian three taels of silver and a light dress and told him to take them to the girl. When the old procuress heard that Ximen Qing was coming, she was delighted. He might have been a gift from Heaven. She took the presents and said to Daian: “Tell his Lordship that both my girls are waiting anxiously for him. He must come early.” Daian returned and told Ximen Qing in his study.
That afternoon, Ximen told Daian to have his sedan chair brought around. He dressed in a large hat, a black summer gown, and a pair of black shoes with white soles. Before leaving he went to the house opposite and saw how the workers were getting on. Then he got into the chair and pulled down the bamboo blind. Qintong and Daian went with him. Wang Jing was left at home and Chunhong was sent in advance with Ximen Qing’s things.
Zheng Aixiang, dressed in her best clothes, stood smiling at the door to receive Ximen Qing. She led him to the reception room and made reverence to him. Ximen told Qintong to take the chair home and return that evening with a horse. Only Daian and Chunhong remained.
The old procuress came to welcome Ximen. “My daughter troubled you the other day,” she said, “and now you have been kind enough to visit us. But why did you send those presents? I must thank you very much indeed for the dress you sent my daughter.”
“Why didn’t she come when I sent for her?” Ximen said. “Why did you say she had to go to Wang’s?”
“I haven’t forgiven Dong Jiao’er and Li Guijie yet,” the old woman said. “They never told us it was your birthday. So, that day, they both brought you presents and my poor girl had nothing to offer. Besides, if we had known, we should have got out of that engagement at Wang’s place. You would certainly have had the first claim. Then you sent your servant for her. I got into a flurry, and, without letting Wang’s people know anything about it, I sent her off to you by the back door.”
“I spoke to her about it when I was taking wine with Magistrate Xia,” Ximen said. “If it had not been for that, I should not have minded. What made me so angry was that she never sent me word, but simply stayed away. I want to know why that was.”
“Since that little baggage has become a woman,” the old woman said, “she has not been at all eager to go out to sing. She knew that there would be a number of guests at your house, and she was shy. She has been brought up very tenderly. She has only just got up now, as you see, and I had to urge her several times. I said to her: ‘You must get up at once because his Lordship Ximen is coming,’ but she has only just done so.”
The maid brought tea, and Zheng Aixiang offered a cup to Ximen Qing. Then the old procuress invited him to go to the inner court. Zheng Aixiang took him to her sister’s room. He saw a scroll hanging on the wall with the words “Aiyue Hall.” He sat down; the lattice was raised, and Zheng Aiyue came in. She wore no net upon her hair. It was simply dressed in the fashion of Hangzhou. It shone with a glossy blackness, coil upon coil like a black mist. Her double-breasted gown was of white silk, and her skirt was purple with green embroidery. Beneath it he could see two small red shoes. When she moved, the tinkling of the pearls and jewels made her seem still more beautiful.
Zheng Aiyue came towards him and greeted him rather carelessly. Then she sat down, hiding her pale face behind a gilded fan. Ximen Qing looked at her and thought her more desirable than ever. His eyes sparkled, his mind was troubled, and he found it hard to contain himself. The maid brought tea. Zheng Aiyue drew her sleeve back a little and, with her dainty fingers, offered him a cup. She and her sister Zheng Aixiang each took a cup and drank together with Ximen Qing. Then the cups were removed. She asked him to take off his long gown and go to her room. Ximen summoned Daian to take his cloak and the boy put it over a chair.
In Zheng Aiyue’s room the hangings, curtains and bedclothes were all of silk. It was a most attractive room and exquisitely perfumed. “Indeed,” Ximen said, “this is a dwelling place for the Immortals to which no mortal man should come.”
They talked and laughed together for a while. Then the maid came to set the table. The food was well chosen and well prepared. First, they offered him lotus-blossom cakes. Then Zheng Aiyue picked out a mincemeat roll and offered it to him on a golden plate. When the food was done with and everything cleared away, she laid a scarlet cloth on the table and brought out thirty-two ivory pieces and they played dominoes. After the game, wine was brought and many fine fruits. The wine was poured into a golden cup, and the two sisters offered it to him. Then they took their instruments, Zheng Aixiang a zither, and Zheng Aiyue a lute, and together sang the song “Love Is in Our Hearts.” So from exquisite lips came exquisite melody. Their voices would have melted a piece of marble. When the song was over, they cast dice. Then Zheng Aixiang made a show of going to change her clothes and left Zheng Aiyue alone with Ximen Qing.
Ximen took from his sleeve a white silk kerchief in which was wrapped a tiny gold box. Zheng Aiyue thought there were fragrant tea leaves in it and was going to open it, but Ximen said: “That is not for tea leaves. It holds my medicine.” He took a packet from his sleeve and unfolded it, taking from it a lozenge of fragrant tea that he handed to her. She wished for more and put her hand into his sleeve. She found a purple kerchief with a pair of gold toothpicks in it. She admired it exceedingly.
“Guijie and Wu Yin’er have kerchiefs like it,” she said. “You must have given them to them.”
“Yes,” Ximen said, “they were brought from Yangzhou. I don’t suppose there is anyone else who could have given them such kerchiefs. Have it if you like it. I will send one for your sister in the morning.” He took the wine cup and drank wine with his medicine. He put his arms around Zheng Aiyue and they drank mouth to mouth. He stroked her breasts. They were small and very soft. He pulled aside her shift. Beneath it her skin was as clear as the whitest jade. His passion was aroused, and his penis rose in anticipation. He pulled down his trousers and asked her to stroke it, but it was so big that she was afraid. She put her arms around his neck and said, “My sweet, this is the first time we have met. Be merciful and give me only a half. If you put in all there is, you will kill me. You’ve made it that size with your medicine. Nothing else would make it so red, so hot, so fearful.”
Ximen laughed and said, “Get down, girl, so that you can find out what it knows.”
“Another time I will do that for you,” Zheng Aiyue said, “for we shall meet as often as there are leaves upon the trees, but not today, the first time we have come together.”
Ximen Qing was anxious to begin. Zheng Aiyue asked if he would not have more wine. “It is not wine I want,” he said, “but to lie with you.”
Zheng Aiyue summoned the maid to clear away the wine table and take off Ximen’s boots. Meanwhile, she went to the inner court to take off her clothes and wash herself. When the maid had taken off his boots, Ximen gave her a piece of silver, then he got into bed and she lighted some incense. Zheng Aiyue came back and asked if he would like some tea. “It is not tea I want,” he said. Then she fastened the door and pulled down the curtains, put the pillow on the bed and joined him there. They were like a pair of lovebirds or the phœnix and his mate.
Ximen Qing saw that the girl’s skin was smooth and fine, and her cunt dainty and without a hair upon it. It was like a piece of pastry made of the finest flour, tender and delicate and perfectly adorable. He clasped her waist with both his arms. It was as soft as jade and fragrance issued from it. Not for a thousand gold pieces could such perfection have been bought. He wrapped her white legs around his body, put on the clasp, and
surged to the inmost recess of her flower of pleasure. But his penis was so stiff that it could not enter. He struggled long, with little success. She grimaced, and, gripping the pillow, begged him to stop. This only made his movements fiercer.
They sported together until the third night watch. Then Ximen Qing went home.
The next day Wu Yueniang was sitting in her room with Meng Yulou, Pan Jinlian and Li Jiao’er. Daian came and asked for the silk that was to be sent as a present to Magistrate Xia upon his birthday.
“Yesterday your father called for his sedan chair,” Yueniang said. “Where did he go? It was very late when he came back and I suspect he went to Han Daoguo’s house. You young rascal, you are always trying to throw dust in my eyes when you go off with him on sly expeditions of that sort.”
“No,” Daian said, “it was not to Han Daoguo’s house my father went, for Han has only just come home.”
“Where did he go, then?”
Daian smiled. He made no answer and took away the silk.
“Great Sister,” Jinlian said, “you will never get the truth out of that young scamp. But I believe the young Southerner went with him too. Send for the young Southerner. We may get the truth from him.”
Chunhong was sent for, and Jinlian said to him: “Where did you go with your father yesterday? Tell us the truth or the Great Lady will have you beaten.”
Chunhong knelt down. “Don’t beat me, lady,” he said, “I will tell you. Daian, Qintong and I went with Father through a great gateway. We went up several streets and down others, and at last we came to a house where the doors were partly open, protected by sharp-edged bars. Inside the door there stood a very beautiful young lady.”
Jinlian laughed. “You rascal. Don’t you know what a house like that is? Calling a singing girl a lady too!” Then she asked: “What did the girl look like? Have you ever seen her before?”
“I didn’t recognize her,” Chunhong said. “She wore a net upon her head just as you ladies do. When we went in, a white-haired old lady came and made reverence to Father. Then we went to the inner court. There was another young lady there, but she didn’t wear a net. Her face was the shape of a melon seed and her lips were painted very red. She drank wine with Father.”
The Golden Lotus, Volume 2 Page 9