The Golden Lotus, Volume 2

by Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng

  The following morning, after he had been to the office, Ximen sent Qintong for the doctor. It was a little after noon when Dr. Ren arrived. Ximen Qing received him in the great hall and they had tea. Then he sent a boy to tell the ladies. They had the room cleaned and incense burned, and Dr. Ren was asked to go and see Li Ping’er. When he had examined her, he came back to the great hall.

  “The lady is much worse than she was before,” he told Ximen Qing. “The trouble has gone to her liver and the lungs are much inflamed. The wood element gets stronger and stronger and the earth element weaker. Her blood is overheated and circulates too violently. It comes down like a mountain torrent and nothing can hold it back. If the blood that comes from her were dark in color, she might still be saved, but it seems lighter; it is, in fact, fresh blood. I will send her some medicine and, if it does her any good, there may be some hope. If it does not, I fear there is nothing I can do for her.”

  “Master,” Ximen said, “I beg you to make some medicine for her with all the skill at your disposal. You shall be handsomely rewarded.”

  “Do not speak of reward,” Dr. Ren said. “You and I are good friends. I will certainly do my best for her.” They took more tea, and the doctor left. Ximen Qing told Qintong to take a roll of Hangzhou silk and two taels of white gold to the doctor and bring the medicine back with him. The medicine he brought was called a tonic for the spleen. Li Ping’er took it very hot, but the blood poured from her more than ever. Then Ximen Qing, very much distressed, sent for Dr. Hu, who lived in the same street. Dr. Hu said that anger had disorganized the pulse, and that the blood had become feverish. He too sent some medicine. Li Ping’er took it, but it was like a pebble thrown into the depths of the ocean.

  Now that doctors were visiting the house all the time, Yueniang decided not to keep Miss Shen for more than one night. She gave her five qian of silver, some clothes and some ornaments. Miss Shen went away in a sedan chair, and a box of food was sent with her.

  When Hua Ziyu was at the party given to celebrate the opening of the shop, he heard that Li Ping’er was ill. He told his wife, and his wife brought a box of presents and came to see the invalid. When she saw how thin and pale Li Ping’er had become, both women cried. Yueniang ordered tea and took Mistress Hua to the inner court.

  Han Daoguo suggested to Ximen Qing that Dr. Zhao, a graduate of the Imperial College of Medicine and a specialist in the diseases of women, might be called in. “He is an expert on the pulse,” he said. “My wife once had trouble of much the same sort and Doctor Zhao cured her. I commend him to you for your lady.”

  As soon as he heard this, Ximen Qing told Qintong and Wang Jing to go at once on horseback outside the Western Gate and ask Dr. Zhao to come. Then he sent for Ying Bojue and discussed the matter with him. “My sixth wife,” he said, “is very ill. What can I do about it?”

  “I heard she was better,” Bojue said in surprise. “Is she worse again?”

  “She has been very sad ever since the baby died,” Ximen said, “and now her old trouble has returned. Yesterday, on the festival day, I got Miss Shen here especially for her. But she didn’t take any interest. She went back to her own room and there fainted, fell on the floor, and bruised her face. I sent for Doctor Ren. He said she was worse than she had ever been. She took his medicine, but the blood only poured from her the more.”

  “I hear you sent for Doctor Hu, too,” Bojue said. “What did he say?”

  “He said that anger had disorganized her pulse. She took his medicine, but it did her no good. Today, my clerk Han recommended Doctor Zhao. His name is Chao Longgang and he is a specialist in women’s diseases. I have sent two boys to fetch him. I am very very anxious about her. It is all on account of the baby. She thinks about him day and night. Women never know where to stop. I have tried to console her but she won’t listen to me and I don’t know what to do.”

  Ping’an came and announced Master Qiao. Ximen Qing took him to the hall and there they sat for a while with Ying Bojue.

  “I hear that your Sixth Lady is not well,” Master Qiao said. “I have come to inquire about her.”

  “It is the child’s death,” Ximen said. “It has made her so melancholy that an old trouble has returned. It was very kind of you to come.”

  “Have you sent for any particular doctor?” Master Qiao asked.

  “First she took Doctor Ren’s medicine,” Ximen said. “Then, yesterday, I sent for Doctor Hu. There was no improvement, and now I have sent for Doctor Zhao.”

  Then Qiao said: “Near the office there lives an old gentleman named He who has a great knowledge of medicine. His son, He Qixuan, has become a very famous doctor. Why don’t you ask him to come?”

  “I will send for him when Doctor Zhao has gone.”

  “I would suggest having them together,” Qiao said. “Then they can hold a consultation about the cause of the illness. They can prescribe afterwards, and their prescription ought to be effective.”

  “You are right,” said Ximen. He told Daian to take his card and go with Qiao Tong to ask old master He to come. When Master He came, he bowed to Ximen Qing and Qiao, and they made him take the seat of honor. “It is several years since I last saw you,” Ximen said politely, “and now your hair is quite white.”

  “How is your son doing?” Qiao asked the old man.

  “He goes to the office every day,” He said, “and that does not leave him much time for anything else. I myself have to go and see those patients who are not of official rank.”

  “You are very old,” Ying Bojue said, “yet you seem very strong.”

  “Yes,” said the old man, “I am eighty-one years old.” They had tea and a boy was sent to give warning to the ladies. Then the old gentleman went to see Li Ping’er. He came back to the hall.

  “I will tell you what is the matter with the lady,” he said to Ximen Qing and Master Qiao. “The seed got into her blood. Then she had a fit of anger. This intermixture of anger and blood has caused the trouble. Whether I am correct or not, I do not know.”

  “Yes, you are right,” Ximen Qing said, “but what I want to know is, can you cure her?”

  Just then, Qintong and Wang Jing came back with Dr. Zhao. Old Master He asked who he was. “This is a doctor who was recommended to me by one of my clerks,” Ximen Qing said. “Don’t mention the fact that you have examined her. When he has seen her, you can consult with him.”

  Dr. Zhao came in and made a reverence to them all. The two old men, He and Qiao, sat in the places of honor, and made room on their left for Dr. Zhao. Ying Bojue sat on the right, and Ximen Qing in the host’s place. Dr. Zhao asked the names.

  “This is He, and I am Qiao,” said Qiao.

  “My name is Ying,” said Ying Bojue. “I presume you are Doctor Zhao.”

  “I am,” said Zhao, “and my second name is Longgang. My grand father was an official in the Imperial College of Medicine; my father was a doctor of high standing, so that I have the experience of three generations behind me. Every day I work very hard upon the theories of Wang Shuhe, Dong Yuan, and Wu Tingzi. I read the poem upon the Nature of Medicine, the Su Wen of Huangdi, the Nan Jing, and, of living masters, the Secret Art of Dan Xi, the cure of heart troubles also by Dan Xi, Jie Gu’s Secret of Pulse Examination, the Thirteen Prescriptions, and so forth. I have read nearly everything that is written about medicine, so that, when I have to prescribe, I have a very harmonious system at my disposal. My fingers are able to discern the most profound workings of the pulse. I can diagnose the conflict between Yin and Yang according to the seasons. I determine the sinking or the floating of the pulse according to internal and external relations. And, in cases of fever or chill, I leave no detail unconsidered. There is nothing about the pulse I do not know, but, really, I cannot attempt to explain how much I do know.”

  Old Master He listened attentively. “May I ask what is the first thing to be done in the consideration of a patient’s case?” he said.

  “According to the ancient mast
ers,” Dr. Zhao said, “when one deals with any patient, one should look at him, listen to him, question him, and examine him. Then a miraculous cure is certain. I always begin by asking my patient questions, then I feel his pulse and consider his general appearance. Unless we see a patient as Zi Ping, the reader of fortunes, sees him, it is impossible to be quite definite about the ailment.”

  “Please, doctor, come and see my wife,” Ximen Qing said. He told Qintong to warn the ladies in the inner court, and took Dr. Zhao to see Li Ping’er. She had just gone to sleep and had to be waked up again. Then she sat up in bed propped up with pillows and bedclothes. Dr. Zhao examined first her left hand, then her right.

  “Lady,” he said, “please raise your head.” Li Ping’er did what she was told. Then the doctor said to Ximen Qing: “Kindly ask the lady who I am.”

  “Who is this gentleman?” Ximen said to his wife.

  Li Ping’er looked at Zhao. “A doctor, I suppose,” she said.

  “There!” said Dr. Zhao, “you have no need to worry, Sir. She can still distinguish between one person and another.”

  “Be very careful,” Ximen said, “and your fee shall be correspondingly large.”

  Dr. Zhao studied Li Ping’er for a long time. “Judging by her general appearance and her pulse, I think she must be suffering from a fever or some wasting disease. She must have been ill either before she had a baby, or afterwards.”

  “You are quite wrong,” Ximen Qing said. “Kindly examine her again.”

  Dr. Zhao gazed at Li Ping’er and murmured: “Why is her face so pale? Her stomach must be out of order— or is it her blood?”

  “Let me tell you, Doctor,” Ximen Qing said. “My wife suffers from an issue of blood. It is that which makes her so thin and weak. If you have any medicine that will do her any good, I will pay you well for it.”

  “I said it was the blood,” Dr. Zhao said. “Have no fear. I have some excellent medicine.”

  Ximen Qing took him back to the hall. Old Master He and Master Qiao asked what the doctor thought.

  “In my opinion she is discharging too much blood,” Dr. Zhao said.

  “And what medicine are you going to give her?” said the old gentleman.

  “I have a perfectly wonderful medicine that will certainly cure the lady. It is made of these drugs—liquorice, spurge, gangsha, hellebore, croton, coriander flowers, a mixture of ginger juice with raw pinella, aconite and almond tianma. Make all these into a pill with honey and take it with spirit in the morning.”

  “But, it seems to me, those drugs are much too strong,” the old gentleman said. “I can’t believe that would do at all.”

  “Why not?” said Dr. Zhao. “Doctors have always agreed that strong medicine, bitter to the taste, is excellent for invalids.”

  Ximen Qing realized that the doctor was talking nothing but rubbish. He gave him two qian of silver and dismissed him. He did not go with him to the gate, but he made no complaint because Han Daoguo had recommended him.

  “The man is a fool,” he said to Master Qiao.

  “I did not venture to say so before,” old Doctor He said, “but the fellow is very well known outside the gate. People call him Zhao the Trickster. He is always defrauding people and strolling about the streets. What should he know of medicine? As for your lady’s illness, I will make up some medicine for her when I get home. If, when she has taken it, the flow of blood stops and she feels more comfortable, I will continue the treatment, but, if this medicine does not help, there is nothing else I can do.” Ximen Qing gave the old gentleman a tael of silver and he went away.

  Daian was sent for the medicine. Li Ping’er took it that evening, but there was no improvement in her condition.

  “Do not give her any more medicine,” Yueniang said. “She has had nothing to eat or drink, and medicine on an empty stomach is useless. Don’t you remember that Wu the Immortal said she would have a blood disorder when she was twenty-seven years old? She is twenty-seven now. You would do well to send for Wu again. He can tell us whether she will live or not. If some evil star is overshadowing her life, we will ask the Immortal to offer sacrifice for her.”

  Ximen Qing at once sent a boy with his card to make inquiry at Major Zhou’s house. Major Zhou’s people said that Wu was a man who never stayed long in the same place. “When he is here,” they said, “he always lives at the Temple of the Guardian Spirits of the Soil, south of the city, but, in the fourth month of this year, he went to the Wudang Mountains. If it is a fortune you wish to have told, there is a certain Master Huang who lives at the Daoist temple. He is well skilled in the art. He will not accept more than three qian of silver, but he will not leave his temple.”

  This was reported to Ximen Qing. He immediately told Chen Jingji to take three qian of silver and go to the Daoist Temple to consult Master Huang.

  Outside the temple hung a sign on which was written: “Here, by the divinely blessed method of the Book of Changes, the decrees of Fate are interpreted. The fee is three qian.” Jingji went in and bowed to Master Huang. He gave him the three qian.

  “The fortune I would ask you to tell,” he said, “is that of a woman twenty-seven years old, born at noon on the fifteenth day of the first month.”

  Master Huang made a calculation upon the abacus and said: “In this fate we have the year Xinwei, the month Gengyin, the day Xinmao, and the hour Jiawu. The life would appear to be one in well-to-do circumstances. The fate seems to run in the years with a four. The fourth year is Jiwei, the fourteenth Wuwu, the twenty-fourth Dingsi, and the thirty-fourth Bingchen. This year is Dingdu, and the evil stars are all in the ascendant. The Jidu star commands her life, and the five evil spirits are always busy making trouble for her. The Jidu star is the star of darkness, its form is that of a bundle of tangled silk that has neither beginning nor end. There is a great deal of unhappiness and some illness. The first month, the second, third, seventh and ninth are all months in which illness appears. This year, too, is unpropitious as regards children. There are other sources of anxiety, quarrels, losses of property, and, because she is a woman, the situation is more disastrous.”

  Master Huang wrote down what he had said, and Chen Jingji went back with it. Ximen Qing was with Ying Bojue and Master Wen. When Jingji gave him the paper, he took it to the inner court and read it to Yueniang. It was obvious that what destiny had in store for Li Ping’er was more to be feared than hoped for, and they were full of sorrow.

  CHAPTER 62

  The Death of the Sixth Lady

  When Ximen Qing realized that no medicine seemed to cure Li Ping’er, and when all the fortune-tellers assured him that her case was hopeless, he did not know what to do. At first, Li Ping’er still tried to get up, dress, comb her hair, and leave her bed when she had to attend to the intimate details of her toilet, but, by degrees, she came to eat less and less and grew thinner and thinner. In a very short time, she who had been such a flower-like creature was faded and withered. She could no longer get out of bed. Papers were put on her mattress, and she told her maids to burn incense all the time so that there might not be an unpleasant odor. Ximen Qing saw that her arms were as thin as threads. He was nearly always in her room, weeping, and only went to his office every other day.

  “Dear man,” Li Ping’er said to him, “you must not neglect your duties. I am afraid you will get behind with your official business. Don’t worry about me. I have this trouble, but if the blood will only stop, and I can manage to eat and drink a little, I shall be better. You are a man. It is not fitting that you should stay at home with me all the time.”

  “Sister,” Ximen said, and he wept as he spoke, “how can I leave you when I see you like this?”

  “Oh, you foolish man, if the Fates have decreed that I must die, who can prevent it? I only wish to say one thing to you. I don’t know why, but, when I am alone, something terrible seems to overshadow me. Shadowy forms are always before my eyes and, at night, I am haunted by evil dreams. Men with swords and staves qu
arrel and struggle with me. They snatch my baby from my breast and make to throw me on the ground. Then my former husband comes and says that he has a new house and wants me to go with him. But I did not mean to tell you this.”

  “When a man dies,” Ximen Qing said, “he is as a light blown out. No one can say whither he has gone. It is because you have been ill so long. You are weak. I don’t believe any evil spirit really comes to trouble you. But I will get Abbot Wu to give me some charms and I will put them up at your door. Then we shall see if there are devils in this house.”

  He went to the outer court and told Daian to go to the Temple of the Jade King to get the charms.

  On his way, Daian met Ying Bojue and Xie Xida. He hastily dismounted. “Where are you going?” Ying Bojue said to him. “Is your master at home?”

  “Yes,” said Daian, “and I am going to the Temple of the Jade King for some charms.”

  The two friends went on to see Ximen Qing.

  “When Brother Xie heard how ill your lady is, he was terribly shocked,” Bojue said. “We have come to ask how she is.”

  “These last few days,” Ximen told them, “she has grown so thin that she looks like another woman. Really, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Why did you send Daian to the temple?” Bojue said.

  Ximen told them about the evil dreams Li Ping’er had. “I fear there may be devils about the house,” he said, “so I have asked for some charms to drive them away.”

  “Oh,” Xie Xida said, “I am sure it is only because she is so weak. There are no devils here.”

  Then Bojue said: “Brother, if you wish to get rid of devils, it is a very simple matter. Priest Pan, of the Temple of the Five Sacred Mountains outside the city gate, has power over the Five Thunders and he can exorcise devils of every sort. He is known as Pan the Expeller of Demons. With his charms and wonder-working philters he often gets people out of difficulties of this sort. Send for him, Brother, and then we shall know whether there are devils at work here or not. And indeed, if you ask him, he may be able to cure your lady.”