Li Guijie, Wu Yin’er, and Zheng Aiyue sent offerings.
Li Ping’er, thinking always of her child, was very sad. She would take nothing to eat and cried so much that she lost her voice. Indeed Ximen Qing was afraid she might try to kill herself, and told the nurse, the maids, and Wu Yin’er to stay with her all day. He himself spent three nights with her and did all he could to console her. Nun Xue read the Lengyan Sutra to her and an exorcism for freeing the troubled spirit, and tried to persuade her to stop crying. “This was not really your child,” she said. “He was one to whom you were beholden in a former existence. We read in the Dharani Sutra of a woman who bore three children, all of whom died before they were two years old. She cried as she took the last dead baby to the river’s bank, and could not bear to cast it in. Then the Blessed One took the form of a monk and said to her: ‘You should not so bewail. This is not your child, but one who was your enemy in your last life. Three times he has come to you to try to bring about your death. If you do not believe me, here is proof.’ The Blessed One pointed at the baby and it appeared in devil’s form. Standing on the water, the devil cried to the woman: ‘Because you have read the Dharani Sutra with devotion, angels have watched over you day and night and I have had no chance to kill you. Now the Blessed One has changed my heart, and I will be your enemy no longer.’ So saying, he sank beneath the waters and disappeared. I assure you, this baby must have been your enemy. He came to you to be an expense and a hurt to your body. The other day you gave fifteen hundred copies of the Dharani Sutra to be distributed, so establishing yourself in virtue, and, thereafter he could no longer endure to be with you and so died. Now you will have a child who will be your true child.”
Li Ping’er listened but she did not forget Guan’ge. Whenever the baby’s name was mentioned she wept.
Five days passed. On the morning of the twenty-seventh, eight small boys wearing black gowns and white hats carried banners, white parasols, white flowers and willows, and walked before the coffin of scarlet and gold. A great red scroll was borne beneath a canopy and on it was inscribed: “The Coffin of a son of the house of Ximen.” Abbot Wu had sent twelve Daoist novices in black robes. They chanted exorcisms about the coffin. Musicians played mournful tunes. Then came all the relatives and Ximen Qing dressed in plain clothes. They went on foot to the end of the street, near the city gate, and there got into carriages and mounted horses.
Ximen Qing feared that Li Ping’er would cry if she went to the grave with them, so he would not let her go, but all the other ladies went in sedan chairs. Sun Xue’e and Wu Yin’er stayed at home to keep company with Li Ping’er. She, forbidden to go to the grave, went after the coffin to the gate. There she cried: “Oh my baby, you have broken my heart,” and fell swooning. As she fell, her head struck the gate; her cheeks were bruised, and the golden pins fell out of her hair. Xue’e and Wu Yin’er went forward and lifted her up. They took her to her own room. There she saw the lonely bed with the little drum shaped like the God of Longevity lying upon it. This reminded her again of her lost child. She beat her hands upon the table and sobbed bitterly.
Wu Yin’er grasped her hands. “Mother,” she said, “please don’t cry any more. The baby has gone and cannot come back to you however much you cry. You must console yourself. Don’t be so sad.”
Xue’e said: “You are still young and you will certainly have another child. I must not say all I think, because, in this place, there are holes in the wall and eyes to look through them, but it was she who schemed for this and she will pay for it. It was she who killed the baby and the baby will demand his life from her. You and I have had much to suffer. She wants her husband all to herself and, whenever he goes to anyone else, she is very angry. You know that our husband has not been to me for a long time. Well, the other day he did come, and you saw what a fuss she made about it and what she said about me to his daughter. I say nothing, but I keep my eyes open and watch. We shall see to what sort of an end that strumpet comes.”
“Yes,” said Li Ping’er, “she has made me suffer. But I do not know when I shall die. It may be today or it may be tomorrow, and I cannot make trouble with her. I can only leave her to go her own way.”
The nurse Ruyi’er came in. She knelt down and said: “There is something I must say to you. I have not dared to do so before. The baby is dead and that is bad luck for me. I am afraid his Lordship and the Great Lady will send me away. My husband is dead and I have nowhere to go.”
Li Ping’er was distressed again. “The baby is dead,” she said, “but I am still alive. And even if I should die tomorrow, you have served me well. I am sure they will not send you away. One of these day, the Great Lady may have a boy or a girl. They will let you be his nurse, and it will be all the same for you. There is no cause for you to worry.”
This satisfied Ruyi’er.
Li Ping’er began to cry again. Wu Yin’er and Xue’e did their best to console her and tried to get her to eat something. They asked Yingchun to go to the inner court and bring some food. But when it was set upon the table Li Ping’er could not bring herself to eat any. She tried a few mouthfuls and then gave up the attempt.
When the funeral procession came to the grave, Ximen Qing asked Master Xu to determine the site. Guan’ge was buried beside the tomb of Ximen’s first wife, the lady Chen.
Master Qiao and the other relatives made offerings at the tomb and were entertained in the new arbor. When they returned, Li Ping’er came to kowtow to Yueniang, Mistress Qiao and Uncle Wu. Again she wept. “Lady,” she said to Mistress Qiao, “who could have such evil fortune as myself whose baby has died so young? Your daughter is widowed before her marriage, and all that we have done for them is thrown away. I trust you will not scorn me now.”
“Lady,” Mistress Qiao said, “you must not talk like that. We can never be sure how long anyone will live. There is an old saying that those who have arranged an alliance between their families can never cease to be friends. You are not old. You will very likely bear another child. We must be patient and not give way to melancholy.” Mistress Qiao went home.
In the hall, Ximen Qing asked Xu, the Master of the Yin Yang, to purify the house. They hung yellow paper charms over all the doors to drive away evil spirits. The charms said: ‘The spirit of our departed one is thirty feet high. It goes towards the northeast. If it meets the god of the day, it will return and not go forth again. Or it will destroy it, and all will be well. The relatives will have nothing: to fear.
Ximen Qing gave a roll of cloth and two taels of silver to Master Xu and took him to the gate. That evening he went to Li Ping’er’s room and tried to comfort her. He was afraid she would be sad if she saw the baby’s toys, so he told Yingchun to put them all away.
CHAPTER 60
The Opening of the New Shop
After Guan’ge’s death, Pan Jinlian was as pleased as could be. She would say, pretending to scold her maids: “Ha, you strumpet! You thought you were like the sun at its zenith, but now you are brought low. Now you are like a turtle dove brought down by the bow, stretching out its tongue in vain. You are like a chair without a back and nothing to lean upon. You are another old woman Wang, who sold her corn and can never have it again to grind, or an old procuress whose singing girls are dead who has no one else to depend upon. Yes, we are now on the same footing again.”
Li Ping’er in her room could hear all this. She said nothing, but her tears flowed faster. With the anger in her heart and her great grief, her spirit drooped more and more and she had no peace even in her dreams. Her appetite decreased day by day. On the second day after Guan’ge’s funeral, Wu Yin’er went away.
Old woman Feng brought a maid, thirteen years old, and sold her to Sun Xue’e for five taels of silver. She was given the name Cui’er.
Li Ping’er never ceased to think of her baby, and there was a furious hatred within her for Jinlian. So her old illness returned; she had a continual issue of blood. Ximen Qing sent for Dr. Ren, but his medicine did h
er no good. It was like watering a rock; the more medicine she took, the worse she became. In less than a fortnight, she grew very ill and thin. All her beauty and charm left her and she looked like a handful of bones. Her sorrow was too great for her to bear.
One day, at the beginning of the ninth month, it was cold and the west wind blew chill. She was in her room alone. The bed was cold: the lonely moon cast its beams upon the window. She was thinking of her baby and sighed deeply several times. Suddenly she seemed to hear someone tapping on the window. She called her maid, but the maids were sleeping soundly and there was no reply. She rose from her bed, put on her shoes and an embroidered gown, went to the door, opened it and looked out. Hua Zixu was there with Guan’ge in his arms. He told her that he had a new house and asked her to go with him. But she would not leave Ximen Qing. She refused him and tried to take the child from him. He pushed her and made her fall upon the ground. Then she woke up and found it was a dream. Her body was bathed in sweat and she sobbed till dawn.
About this time, the merchandise that Laibao had bought in Nanjing arrived. Laibao sent Wang Xian before him to get the money to pay the duty. Ximen Qing wrote a letter and sent it to Rong Hai with a hundred taels of silver. He sent presents of wine, silk, and other things to the customs officer asking that, when the merchandise was checked, a lenient reckoning might be made. The shop was ready, and it was arranged that it should be opened on the fourth day of the ninth month. On that day the merchandise was brought, twenty large loads of it. Kinsmen and friends sent presents and scrolls to be hung up in the new shop, and there were twenty guests or more. Magistrate Xia sent a man with gifts and red favors; Master Qiao sent twelve musicians. Ximen Qing himself engaged Li Ming, Wu Hui and Zheng Chun. The two clerks, Gan and Han, were in the shop, one to check and test the silver, the other to determine the price of the goods. Cui Ben received the goods and set them in their proper place. Ximen Qing, in his ceremonial dress, burned paper offerings; then the relatives and friends offered the presents they had brought. Fifteen tables were laid in the hall. There was an abundance of food and, when all had taken their places, the musicians began to play. Everybody seemed to be present and the seats were all occupied. The three singers sang the song of the World’s Beginning; the wine was passed around several times, and several courses of food were served. The musicians played and those in the company urged each other to drink. Ying Bojue and Xie Xida took the largest cups. They did not stop drinking till sunset. Then the guests departed, but Ximen Qing urged Uncle Wu, Uncle Shen, Uncle Han, Master Wen, Ying Bojue and Xie Xida to stay. The tables were relaid and they sat down again. This was the first day the shop had been open, and, when the clerks reckoned up, they found they had done business to the value of more than five hundred taels of silver. Ximen Qing was delighted. When the shop had been closed, he invited Gan, Han and Fu with Cui Ben, Ben the Fourth and Chen Jingji to join their party. When the musicians had finished playing, they were dismissed. Only the three singers remained to sing for them.
Ying Bojue was drunk. He went to the front to wash his hands. Then he said to Li Ming: “Who is that good-looking young singer with his hair in a knot?”
“Uncle,” Li Ming said, “don’t you know him? That is Zheng Feng’s younger brother, Zheng Chun. A few days ago, his Lordship had a party with Zheng Aiyue at Zheng’s house.”
“Ah,” Bojue said, “now I understand why she was at the funeral the other day.” He went back to join Ximen Qing and the others.
“I see I have to congratulate you on a new brother-in-law,” he said to Ximen Qing.
Ximen Qing laughed. “Don’t talk nonsense,” he said. He told Wang Jing to give Bojue a large cup of wine.
“What do you think about it, venerable Uncle?” Bojue said to Uncle Wu. “Don’t you think he is punishing me without due cause?”
“I am punishing you, you dog, because of the lies you tell,” Ximen Qing said.
Ying Bojue bent his head, considered for a while and said: “Very well, I will drink it. I don’t suppose it will kill me. But I never drink without music. Kindly tell Zheng Chun to sing me a song.”
The three boys came in together. Bojue said to Li Ming: “You and Wu Hui can go away. I only want Zheng Chun. I want him to play the zither and sing a song for me.”
Xie Xida said to Zheng Chun: “Come and sing for your Uncle Ying.” “Beggar Ying,” said Ximen, “please understand that you will have to drink a cup of wine for every song he sings.” He told Daian to set two great silver cups before Bojue. Zheng Chun took up his zither and sang.
A girl of sixteen years or so
Watching a pair of butterflies at play,
On the white wall rested her dainty shoulders
And dried her tears with tender fingers.
To her slave she said
Drive them away and make them play elsewhere.
When Zheng Chun had finished his song, he invited Ying Bojue to drink. Bojue did so. Daian quickly refilled his cup. Zheng Chun began again.
He passed beyond the sculptured screen and came to her
Leaning against the arbor of wild roses.
Shyly she pretended to put straight her phœnix pins.
She would not speak of what had passed the night before,
But smiled and gathered flowers to cast at him.
Bojue drank another cup of wine. Then he turned to Xie Xida. “This is too much for me,” he said. “Two great cups of wine are more than I can manage.”
“What, you foolish beggar!” Xie Xida said. “When you can’t drink, you would make me drink for you? I am not your slave.”
“Foolish beggar yourself,” Bojue said. “When one of these days I get an official position, you certainly will be my slave.”
“Oh, you dog,” Ximen Qing said, “the only appointment you’ll ever get will be that of musician in a brothel.”
“Well, my boy,” Bojue said, “if I am you shall have the hall.”
Ximen Qing laughed. He said to Daian: “Go and fetch the knuckle cracker and crack this rascally beggar’s knuckles.”
Xie Xida went quietly over and tapped Bojue on the head. “Beggar,” he said, “Master Wen is here, yet you talk all this nonsense.”
“Master Wen is a man of learning,” Bojue said. “He won’t mind our being frivolous.”
“You two gentlemen are my patron’s very good friends,” Master Wen said. “It is right and fitting that you should behave like this when drinking wine. Otherwise, enjoyment never could reach the pitch we desire. Happiness is in our hearts but it demands expression, and, when it is expressed, it is natural that we should let go a little.”
Uncle Shen said to Ximen Qing: “Now let us try something else. Allow us to have a game of some sort—dice, or guessing fingers, or dominoes, and then a poem or a song or a tongue twister. He who fails must drink. That is fair, and there will be no disputes.”
“An excellent idea!” Ximen Qing said. He poured a cup of wine, set it before Uncle Wu and asked him to begin.
Uncle Wu took up the dice box and said: “Gentlemen, I will begin, and after me, everyone in turn. I must have the name of a flower to correspond to the markings of the dice. The first word of the second sentence must be the same as the last word of the first. It must be a quotation from a song or a poem. He who fails must drink a large cup of wine. Here goes: I cast the first and get one point red. The red plum blossoms stand beside the white plum blossoms.”
Uncle Wu cast the dice and got a two. He drank a cup of wine and passed the box to Uncle Shen.
“For the second cast: upon one stem I see two lotus blossoms. ‘The lotus blossoms are the delight of the gaily colored mandarin ducks.’ “
He threw a two, drank two cups of wine and passed the dice to Uncle Han.
“For the third cast,” said Uncle Han, “I have three spring plums. ‘The plums fall, but I do not put straight my hat.’ “
He cast the dice but did not say what turned up. Then he drank his wine and gave the box to Maste
r Wen.
“The fourth cast makes the Zhuang Yuan red,” said Master Wen. “ ‘Red and purple are not the wear for common men.’ “
Master Wen drank a cup of wine. It was Ying Bojue’s turn. “I can’t read a word,” Bojue said. “You will get no quotation from me. I shall have to give you a tongue twister.”
Flip-flop, flip-flop, a fast-footed old fellow
Bearing beans by the bushel in his right hand
And a beggar’s broad begging bag firm in his left
Scuffled steadily straight to his front.
A mangy mongrel, all yellow and white
Bit the beggar’s broad begging bag.
Flip-flop, flip-flop, the fast-footed old fellow
Dropped the basket with the bushel of beans
Strove stoutly to stampede the mangy mongrel all yellow and white
But who can say whether he beat the dog, or the dog beat him?
Ximen Qing laughed. “You boil-breaking, mad creature!” he said. “Have you ever seen a man drive off a dog with his fist?”
“Well, he shouldn’t have gone out without a stick. Nowadays, all beggars take sticks with them. That’s the only way they can deal with the dogs.”
“Sir,” said Xie Xida, “Beggar Ying is speaking for himself. He is the beggar here.”
“We shall have to punish him,” Ximen Qing said. “He hasn’t played the game properly. Now, friend Xie, it is your turn.”
“I will give you a better tongue twister than his,” Xie Xida said.
On the wall there is a bit of broken brick.
Beside the wall there is a horse.
If the bit of broken brick falls upon the horse,
Will the bit of broken brick break the horse’s back,
Or will the horse break the bit of broken brick?
The Golden Lotus, Volume 2 Page 11