That evening, the lanterns were lighted and the boys sang. Even before the first night watch, Ximen Qing was snoring as he sat with the others. Bojue, trying to rouse him, asked him to play games and guess fingers.
“What makes you so sleepy, Brother?” he said. “Are you not happy today?”
“I did not sleep very well last night,” Ximen said. “Today, I don’t seem to have any energy.”
The four singing girls came to them. Bojue bade two of them sing and the other two serve the wine. They were drinking happily when Daian came and said: “Lady Lin and Mistress He are going.” Ximen Qing hastily left the table and stood in the shadow beside the second door to watch them go. Yueniang and the others came with them and, when they reached the courtyard, they waited for a while to look at the fireworks. Mistress He had changed her clothes. She was wearing a scarlet cloak with sables. Lady Lin wore a white silk coat with sable cape, gold pins, and jade ornaments. Servants, with lanterns, took the ladies to their chairs.
Ximen Qing looked at them with starving eyes; his mouth watered so that he could hardly swallow. But they were beyond his reach. At that moment—it might have happened in a fairy tale—Laijue’s wife, seeing that the ladies had gone, came from the inner court. So she met Ximen Qing and could not get away. She was a pretty young woman and Ximen had long desired to possess her. She was not so sprightly as Laiwang’s wife had been, but she was not far behind her. Ximen was stirred by the wine he had drunk. He took the woman in his arms, carried her into her room, and kissed her.
This woman had once been a maid in a princely household, but she had carried on with her master and had been sent away through the jealousy of the other servants. Today the same fate overtook her, and she had to yield. She slipped her tongue into his mouth. They both undressed. Ximen put her on the edge of the bed and raised her legs. Then he took his pleasure of her.
CHAPTER 79
The End of Ximen Qing
Men born in the south and the north
Travel different roads.
There is no certainty in the life of man
Creation disposes of us as it chooses
Lifts us up and sets us down,
Makes us lie outstretched or stand upright.
It is the same wherever we go.
We sigh in vain, thinking of what is past,
For fame and wealth and dignity
Are not things to be sought.
Whatever the course of our life may be, whether misery or joy
We must follow it.
Whether we live in splendid palaces
Or ride on steeds caparisoned with gold
Or inhabit humble dwellings
Or live in small thatched cottages
All will still shed tears.
When Ximen Qing had finished with the woman, he went back to drink with Uncle Wu and the others. The ladies stayed for a while, ate some dumplings in celebration of the Lunar Festival, and then went away. Chen Jingji saw that the actors were given a meal, and dismissed them with two taels of silver. The four singing girls and the three men stayed on, singing and serving wine for the men.
“Tomorrow is Brother Hua’s birthday,” Bojue said to Ximen Qing. “Have you sent him a present?”
“Yes, I sent him something this morning.”
“Uncle Hua has sent you a card of invitation,” Daian said.
“Are you going, Brother?” Bojue said. “If so, I will come for you and we will go together.”
“I can’t tell you now,” Ximen said. “I advise you to go alone.”
After a while the four singing girls went to the inner court, leaving only the three boys to entertain the men. Ximen Qing was very sleepy and nodded all the time.
“Brother-in-law,” Uncle Wu said, “you are tired. We had better go.” Ximen Qing would not let them go before the second night watch. Then he sent away the singing girls and gave the boys two large cups of wine each and six qian of silver. As they were going away, he said to Li Ming: “I shall want you here on the fifteenth. I am going to invite their Lordships Zhou, Jing, He, and some others on that day. Don’t forget. And I want you to engage four singing girls for me.”
Li Ming knelt down and asked whom he would like to have. “There is that girl from the Fans’ house,” Ximen said, “and Qin Yuzhi, and, at Captain He’s the other day, I saw a girl called Feng Jinbao. Then there is Lü Sai’er. They will do.”
When Li Ming had gone, Ximen Qing went to Wu Yueniang’s room.
“Lady Lin and Mistress Jing seemed to enjoy themselves,” Yueniang said to him. “They did not go until very late, and Mistress Jing thanked me repeatedly. She said you had been extraordinarily helpful to her husband, and they would never forget your kindness. General Jing is going next month to the Huai country to see about the transport of the grain. Mistress He drank plenty of wine. She seems to have taken a fancy to the Fifth Lady. I took her to the garden and showed her the artificial mound. She gave some very generous gifts to the servants.”
Ximen Qing spent the night with Yueniang. During the night she dreamed, and when daybreak came, she told her dream to her husband. “It may have been because Lady Lin was wearing a red cloak,” she said, “but I dreamed that Li Ping’er took a red cloak from her box and dressed me in it. Pan Jinlian snatched it away from me and put it on herself. That made me angry, and I said to her: ‘You have her fur coat already. Why should you want this too?’ Then Jinlian grew angry and tore the cloak. I began to shout. Then I woke and found it was a dream.”
“Don’t let the dream worry you,” Ximen said. “I will give you a coat. When people dream about a thing, it is always because they would like to possess it.”
He got up, but his head was heavy, and he did not feel like going to the office. When he had dressed, he went to the study and sat down. Yuxiao brought him some of Ruyi’er’s milk in a little jar, and Ximen took it with his medicine. Then he lay on the bed, and Wang Jing softly tapped his master’s legs. When Yuxiao came, the boy withdrew. Ximen Qing gave her a pair of gold pins and four silver rings, and asked her to take them to Laijue’s wife. Yuxiao realized that he was again repeating the experience he had had with Laiwang’s wife. When she came back, she said: “She has accepted your gifts and is coming to kowtow to you.” Then she took the empty jar and went away.
Yueniang had ordered Xiaoyu to cook some gruel for Ximen Qing, but he would not come and take it. Wang Jing had brought a packet from his sister, Wang Liu’er, and told his master she was anxious to see him. Ximen Qing opened the packet. In it was a tress of glossy dark hair, tied with five-colored silk, with a lovers’ knot of silken ribbon. There was also an embroidered purple bag with two openings, filled with melon seeds. Ximen Qing examined everything very carefully. He was pleased. He put the bag on the shelf and the hair in his sleeve.
Suddenly Yueniang came into the room. Ximen was still lying on the bed, with Wang Jing working on his legs. “Why don’t you come to breakfast instead of staying here?” she said. “What is it that makes you so languid?”
“I don’t know. But I feel wretched and my legs hurt.”
“Perhaps it is the weather,” Yueniang said. “But now you are taking the medicine, you will soon be well again.” She took him to her room and they had breakfast there.
“It is the New Year,” Yueniang said, “and you ought to be merry. Why don’t you go and see Uncle Hua? It is his birthday today. Or send for Brother Ying to come and have a chat.”
“Ying is not at home today,” Ximen said. “He has gone to Hua’s place. Make something for me to eat, and I will go to the shop and see Uncle Wu the Second.”
“Very well,” Yueniang said, “order your horse. I will tell the maids to prepare something.”
Ximen Qing told Daian to saddle his horse, then he dressed and went to Lion Street. The Feast of Lanterns was in full swing, and the street was very busy. The sound of horses and carriages was like thunder, and the lanterns were as beautiful as embroidered silk. People swarmed like ants.
Ximen looked at the lanterns, then went to the shop. Uncle Wu and Ben the Fourth were doing a very brisk trade. Laizhao’s wife made a fire in the parlor and brought tea. After a while, Yueniang sent Qintong and Laian with two boxes of food. There was some Southern bean wine in the shop, and they opened a jar of this and went upstairs. Ximen Qing drank with Uncle Wu and Ben the Fourth and looked out at the lanterns. People were pressing up and down the street below.
Ximen Qing sent Wang Jing with a message to Wang Liu’er. When she heard, he was coming she hastily made preparations. Ximen told Laizhao to let Uncle Wu and Ben the Fourth have the rest of the food, and bade Qintong take a jar of wine to Han Daoguo’s house. Then he mounted his horse and rode there. Wang Liu’er, all dressed up, welcomed him and kowtowed four times.
“Thank you for your presents,” Ximen Qing said. “But why haven’t you been to my house? I have twice sent you an invitation.”
“Though I didn’t go, no one came to urge me,” Wang Liu’er said. “And I have not been very well these last few days. I have no appetite and I don’t feel able to do anything that requires the slightest exertion.”
“You must be thinking of your husband,” Ximen said.
“Thinking of my husband!” Wang Liu’er cried. “It is because you have not been to see me. I thought I must have done something to annoy you. You have been treating me like the ring on a hairnet, which is always put out of sight. But perhaps you have another woman now.”
Ximen Qing laughed. “Another woman?” he said. “No, all through this festival there have been so many parties that I have been too busy to come.”
“You had a number of ladies yesterday, I hear,” the woman said.
“Yes, my wife has been visiting them, and we had to do something in return.”
“How many ladies were there?”
Ximen told her about the party.
“So, when you have a party for the Feast of Lanterns, you invite everybody of any importance, but you don’t ask me.”
“Oh, you mustn’t let that upset you,” Ximen said. “There will be another party on the sixteenth, and the wives of those who work with me will all be invited. I shall not allow you to refuse.”
“If your lady sends me a card, how dare I refuse?” Wang Liu’er said. “By the way, the other day, one of your maids insulted Miss Shen, and she complained to me most bitterly about it. As a matter of fact, she did not wish to go that day, and I persuaded her. After the trouble she came here and cried till I didn’t know what to do. Then you were kind enough to send a box and a tael of silver, and that put matters right. Your maid seems to have been in a very bad temper. She ought to know that, before she beats a dog, it is well to look and see what the master thinks about the matter.”
“That little oily mouth has a very sharp tongue,” Ximen Qing said. “She even treats me like that sometimes. But Miss Shen herself was in the wrong. She was asked to sing and she should have sung. When she refused, of course people got angry. She said a few things to the maid, too.”
“She told me she never opened her mouth,” Wang Liu’er said. “She said the maid came and insulted her and shook her fist at her. When she came here, tears were rolling down her cheeks and she never stopped blowing her nose. I kept her here for the night and then took her home.”
The maid brought tea and old woman Feng came and kowtowed to Ximen Qing. He gave her a piece of silver worth about three or four qian. “You have not been to my place since your mistress died,” he said.
“Where should I go now that she is dead?” the old woman said. “But I often come here to talk to this lady.”
They took Ximen Qing into the inner room and asked whether he had had anything to eat.
“I had some gruel this morning,” he said, “and, just before I came here, I had some cakes with Uncle Wu the Second. I am not particularly hungry.”
Still, the table was set. The woman asked Wang Jing to open the jar of bean wine, and heated some. They sat down to drink.
“Did you get the things I sent you?” Wang Liu’er said. “I cut off a lock of my own hair and arranged it with my own hands. I thought you would like it.”
“It was very kind of you,” Ximen said.
When they had drunk wine enough, and there was nobody in the room, Ximen Qing took the ribbon from his sleeve, put it around his penis and tied it around his waist. Then he drank some medicine mixed with wine. Wang Liu’er stroked the prick, which quickly became proud and erect. The veins stood out; it looked like a piece of purple liver. The silk ribbon had far more effect than the clasp. Ximen Qing lifted her onto his lap and pressed his prick into her cunt. They drank wine, each from the other’s mouth, and their tongues played together.
In the evening, old woman Feng made some dumplings with pork and radishes for them. Wang Liu’er ate some with him and, when the maid had cleared away, they went to the bed. They pulled aside the silken curtains and took off their clothes. The woman knew that Ximen Qing liked to do things in the light, and she set the lamp on a small table near the bed. Then she made fast the door and went to wash her cunt. When she came back, she took off her trousers and went to bed. They lay down together and put their arms around one another. Ximen Qing was still thinking of Captain He’s wife and his passion blazed like fire. His penis was very hard. He told her to get onto hands and knees like a horse, and he plunged to the flower in her bottom. He did this six hundred times, while her behind showed its noisy approbation. She felt down her body, played with the flower in her belly, and called him endearing names unceasingly.
Still Ximen was not content. He sat up, put on a white short coat and set a pillow beneath him. Then he bade the woman turn over and tied her feet with two ribbons to the bedposts. He began by playing the game of the golden dragon stretching its claws, and thrust this way and that, sometimes plunging deep, sometimes just a little way. He was afraid she might catch cold and wrapped a red silk coat about her body. He brought the light nearer and bent his head to watch the movements. Whenever he took out his penis, he put it in again right up to the hilt; he did this six hundred times. The woman, her voice trembling, called him every endearing word she could think of. Soon he withdrew completely and put some of the red powder on the tip of his penis; when it was set in motion again it so stimulated her cunt that she could hardly bear it. She climbed on top of him and begged him to go in deeper; but he deliberately played about the opening, touching the treasure inside only lightly and refusing to go in further. Love juices flowed from her like slime from a snail. In the candlelight Ximen beheld her white legs raised about his body on either side. He saw them quivering in response to his movements, which became still more violent.
“Do you love me, you strumpet?” he asked her.
“I have been thinking about you all the time,” she said. “I can only hope that you will be like the pine tree and the cypress, evergreen. Do not weary of me and give me up. If you should do that, it would kill me. I dare not tell this to anyone else, and nobody knows it. And I shall not tell that turtle of mine. He is away and he has money. He has other women and need not bother about me.”
“My child,” Ximen said, “if you will give yourself entirely to me, I will find another wife for him when he comes back and then you can belong to me always.”
“Darling,” Wang Liu’er said, “do get him another wife. Whether you take me into your household or leave me outside does not matter. Do as you please. I give my worthless body to you utterly and entirely and I will do anything you wish.”
“I know you,” Ximen Qing said.
They went on for a very long time. Then Ximen unloosed the ribbons that tied her feet, and they went to sleep together. About the third night watch he got up, put on his clothes, and washed his hands. Wang Liu’er opened the door and bade the maid bring them wine and food. They drank again. After more than ten cups of wine, Ximen began to feel tipsy and asked for tea to rinse his mouth. He took a paper from his sleeve and gave it to Wang Liu’er. “Take t
his to clerk Gan, and ask him for a dress,” he said. “You can choose your own pattern and design.” She thanked him, and he went away. Wang Jing carried a lantern and Daian and Qintong led his horse, one on either side.
It was the third night watch. Dark clouds covered the sky, and the light of the moon could hardly pierce them. The street was deserted; only the barking of dogs could be heard in the distance. Ximen Qing went westwards. Suddenly, as he came near the stone bridge, a whirlwind swept before his horse. It was like a dark form advancing from the bridge to attack him. His horse was startled and reared. Ximen shuddered. He whipped his horse. It shook its mane. Daian and Qintong clung to the bridle with all their strength, but they could not hold it, and the horse galloped wildly till it came to Ximen’s gateway. Then it stopped. Wang Jing, with the lantern, was left far behind. When Ximen Qing dismounted, his legs were almost useless, and servants came out to help him in. He went to Pan Jinlian’s room.
Jinlian had come back from the inner court, but she had not gone to bed. She was lying upon her bed, dressed, waiting for Ximen Qing. When he came, she got up at once. She took his clothes and saw that he was drunk, but she asked no questions. Ximen put his hands on her shoulders and drew her towards him.
“You little strumpet!” he murmured, “your darling is drunk. Get the bed ready: I want to go to sleep.”
She helped him to bed, and, as soon as he was on it, he began to snore like thunder. She could do nothing to wake him, so she took off her clothes and went to bed too. She played delicately with his weapon, but it was as limp as cotton wool and had not the slightest spirit. She tossed about on the bed, consumed with passionate desire, almost beside herself. She pressed his prick, rubbed it up and down, bent her head to suck it; it was in vain. This made her wild beyond description. She shook him for a long time and at last he awoke. She asked him where his medicine was. Ximen, still very drunk, cursed her.
The Golden Lotus, Volume 2 Page 52