“Sir,” the Captain said, “I will not exchange formal greetings with you today. How do you feel?”
“My head is better,” Ximen said, “but I have still a great deal of pain down below.”
“It looks like a case of poisoned urine,” Captain He said. “Now it so happens that, yesterday, a friend of mine called to see me on his way to Dongchangfu to visit his people. He comes from Fenzhou in Shaanxi and his name is Liu Juzhai. He is very well versed in troubles of this kind. May I send him to see you?”
“It is very good of you,” Ximen Qing said. “I will send someone to ask him to come.”
Captain He drank his tea. “Sir,” he said, “you must take great care of yourself. Don’t bother about things at the office. I can manage quite well.”
Ximen Qing raised his hand. “You are very kind,” he said.
When Captain He had gone, Ximen told Daian to take a card and go with one of Ho’s servants for Liu Juzhai. Liu felt his pulse, put some medicine upon the affected part, and gave him a dose of something to be taken with water. Ximen Qing gave him a roll of Hangzhou silk and a tael of silver. He took the first dose, but there was no improvement.
That day, Zheng Aiyue brought him a pair of young pigeons and a box of fruit pastries. She came in a sedan chair. When she had kowtowed to him, she said: “I did not know you were ill. That excellent pair, Li Guijie and Wu Yin’er, came before me, yet they never said a word to me about it. That is why I did not come before.”
“Why have you troubled to bring these things for me?” Ximen said.
“They are not intended as proper presents,” Zheng Aiyue said, smiling. “They are only something for you to taste.”
“We are very anxious for him to take something, but he doesn’t seem able to do so,” Yueniang said. “This morning he has only had a mouthful of rice gruel. The doctor has just gone.”
“Mother, will you ask one of your maids to cook these young pigeons? They are very tender, and perhaps he will try one of them with his gruel. You must eat something,” she said to Ximen Qing. “You are a big man, like a mountain of gold, and you have a whole household dependent on you.”
“He has no appetite,” Yueniang said.
“Father,” Zheng Aiyue said, “listen to me. You must eat something even if you don’t feel like it. We are human beings. We have no roots such as plants have, and we must eat and drink to live. If you don’t eat anything, you will waste away.”
Before long, one of the young pigeons was cooked. Xiaoyu brought it with the rice gruel and some preserved fruits. Zheng Aiyue jumped on to the bed and sat down on her heels before Ximen Qing. She took the bowl in her hand and tried to make him eat. He did his best, but could only swallow a few spoonfuls of gruel and a little pigeon. Then he shook his head and would try no more.
“You need two things to make you better,” Zheng Aiyue said, “medicine and food. I am glad to see you take even a little.”
“He would not have eaten anything at all if you had not come,” Yuxiao said.
Zheng Aiyue had some tea, then Yueniang entertained her and sent her away with five qian of silver. Before she left, the girl went and kowtowed to Ximen Qing. “Be patient,” she said, “I will come again soon.”
That evening, Ximen Qing took a second dose of Dr.. Liu’s medicine. But his body began to ache all over and he groaned the whole night through. In the fifth night watch, his testicles swelled up and burst and blood poured upon the bedclothes. Sores came out on the end of his penis, and a yellow liquid came from them. The whole household rushed in a turmoil to his bedside. They realized that the medicine had done him no good and sent for old woman Liu to light a spirit lamp that they might know whether he would live or die. Then they sent a boy to Major Zhou’s house to find out where the Immortal Wu was. They remembered how he had told them long ago that Ximen Qing would suffer as he was doing, and now his prophecy was fulfilled. Ben the Fourth told them that there was no need to send the boy to Major Zhou’s place. The holy man was staying at the temple of the local god outside the walls. “He is spending his time there,” Ben the Fourth said, “telling fortunes, curing the sick, and practicing divination. He never cares what people pay him, but goes wherever he is wanted.”
Yueniang sent Qintong to ask him to come.
When the Immortal came, he looked at Ximen Qing and found him entirely changed. His face was worn and thin, and his spirits low. He was lying on the bed with a kerchief tied about his head. The Immortal felt his pulse.
“Sir,” he said, “you are ill because you have taken too much wine and had too much to do with women. Now your vital fluid is exhausted and a furious fever has taken hold upon the instrument of your passion. I fear I can do nothing for you. Your case is hopeless.”
“If you can give him no medicine to make him well,” Yueniang said, “perhaps you will tell us what the Fates say of him.”
The Immortal made calculations upon his fingers and reckoned Ximen’s eight characters. “His animal is the Tiger,” he said, “he was born on the renwu day of the wushen month, of the bingyin year, and at the bingchen hour. The present year is wuxu, and he is thirty-three years old. But for calculating his fate we must take the year as guihai, and this is unfavorable, viewed in regard to the position of fire and earth. In this year, the wu earth is in conflict with the ren water. And this month happens to be wuyin, so that there are three wus, all against him. He cannot withstand them.”
Now he comes into conflict with the star of evil omen
His body is light and yet heavy. He is in desperate straits.
Beware the day and the hour of the planet Jupiter
For then the gods will knit their brows.
“Since the Fates are of such evil omen, is there nothing you can do for him?” Yueniang asked.
“The White Tiger is standing before him at this moment, and the Angel of Death is presiding over his destiny. Heaven itself can do nothing now, and even the Year Star Jupiter could not avert calamity. It is the will of Heaven, and neither god nor spirit can alter it.”
Yueniang gave the Immortal a roll of cloth, and he went away. She sought diviners and soothsayers, but everywhere she was told that the omens were against her husband’s life. That night, she burned incense in the courtyard and took an oath before Heaven. “If my husband recovers,” she swore, “I will go every year for three years to the peak in Tai’an District to offer incense and a robe to the Goddess there.” And Yulou took an oath to offer sacrifice to the stars every seventh day. Only Jinlian and Li Jiao’er did not take any oaths.
At one time, when Ximen was in a half-fainting state, he thought he saw Hua Zixu and Wu Da standing before him, come to demand payment of the debt he owed them. He would not speak of this but asked that he should not be left alone.
Once, when Yueniang was out of the room, he took Jinlian’s hand, and cried. “My love,” he said, “when I am dead, you sisters must keep my tablet and stay together.”
Jinlian was very sorrowful. “I am afraid I shall not be wanted here any longer,” she said.
“When the Great Lady comes, I will speak to her,” Ximen said.
When Yueniang came back, she found them both with eyes red with crying. “Tell me what you want,” she said. “We have been together as husband and wife so long now.”
Ximen sobbed quietly. “I know I am going to die,” he said, “and I want to say this. When your baby is born, I should like you all to stay here and bring him up together. You must not let the household go to pieces so that the neighbors come to look down upon it.” He pointed to Jinlian. “Forgive her for all the things she has done wrong.”
Yueniang could restrain herself no longer. Tears rolled down her cheeks like pearls. She sobbed aloud. Ximen asked her to summon Chen Jingji. When the young man came, Ximen said: “My son, if I had a son of my own, I could count on him. But, as yet, I have no son, and I must put all my trust in you. I look upon you as my own son and, if anything should happen to me, it will be for you to bury
me. Afterwards, stay here and help your mother and keep up the good renown of this house. The silk shop is worth fifty thousand taels, but part of that belongs to our kinsman Qiao. Tell Fu to dispose of as much stock as is necessary, pay off our kinsman, then close the shop. The thread shop of which Ben the Fourth is in charge is worth six thousand five hundred taels, and the silk shop that Uncle Wu the Second looks after, five thousand taels. Both those shops should be closed as soon as the stuff can be sold. If Li the Third gets the contract we have spoken about, it will be better not to go further in the matter. Ask Uncle Ying to get somebody else to take it up. Li the Third and Huang the Fourth still owe me five hundred taels with interest amounting to another hundred and fifty. Ask them for payment. You and Clerk Fu can look after the household and the two shops that are here. The pawnshop is worth about twenty thousand taels and the medicine shop five thousand. Clerk Han and Laibao are still in Songjiang. When the river is free from ice, fetch them home again. They have about four thousand taels’ worth of merchandise. Sell it and give the money to your mother. Liu, the Director of Studies, owes me three hundred taels. Hua owes me fifty. Xu the Fourth, outside the city, owes me, including interest due, about three hundred and forty. We have all the necessary documents, and you can ask them for payment at once. It will be best to sell the two houses, the one in Lion Street and the one opposite, because they will be too much for your mother to control.”
Then he began to cry. Jingji promised to do all that Ximen had said. Clerk Fu, Clerk Gan, Uncle Wu the Second, Ben the Fourth and Cui Ben came to see him. He gave each of them his instructions, and each one in turn told him not to be alarmed because he was not really very ill. A great many people came to visit him and, when they saw how ill he was, went away sighing.
Yueniang still hoped that Ximen might get better, but Heaven had destined him for no more than thirty-three years of life. In the fifth night watch on the twenty-first day of the first month, the fever consumed him. He panted like an ox and so continued for a long time. He lingered on until mid morning, and then, alas and alack, his breathing ceased and he passed away.
Ximen Qing died before a coffin had been made ready for him. Yueniang hurriedly sent for Wu the Second and Ben the Fourth, opened a chest, and took out four bars of silver. These she gave to the two men and told them to buy a set of coffin boards. They had hardly left her when she felt a severe pain in her belly. She hurried to her room, lay down on the bed, and lost consciousness. Yulou, Jinlian and Xue’e were in the other room, dressing Ximen Qing in his robes. When Xiaoyu told them that the Great Lady was lying on the bed, Yulou and Li Jiao’er hurriedly went to her. They saw her with her hand pressed to her stomach, and knew that her time had come. Yulou left Li Jiao’er to look after Yueniang while she went to send a boy for old woman Cai. Li Jiao’er sent Yuxiao for Ruyi’er and, when Yulou returned, she had disappeared.
Yueniang was unconscious; the chest was lying open, and there was nobody about. Li Jiao’er took five bars of silver and went off with them to her own room. She came back with some paper.
“I could not find any paper here, so I went to my own room to get some,” she said to Yulou.
Yulou suspected nothing. She looked after Yueniang and made everything ready. Yueniang’s pains increased and the baby was born almost as soon as old woman Cai came.
Ximen Qing was laid out, stiff and cold, in the other room, and the whole household began to bemoan him.
Old woman Cai attended to the baby, cut the navel string, and they made a soothing drink for Yueniang and helped her to bed. Yueniang gave the old woman three taels of silver, but this did not satisfy her.
“When the other lady had a baby, you gave me more than this,” she said. “I want now what I had then. Besides, this is your own baby.”
“Things are different now,” Yueniang said. “My husband is dead. Take this, and, when you come on the third day, I will give you another tael, no more.”
“I would rather have a dress,” the old woman said. She thanked the ladies and went away.
When Yueniang was a little better, she noticed that the chest was open. She scolded Yuxiao. “You should not have left the chest open with so many people about when I was unconscious. Hadn’t you sense enough to lock it up?”
“I was sure you had locked it,” Yuxiao said, “and I didn’t give it a thought.” She took the key and locked it.
When Yulou saw that Yueniang was in a suspicious mood, she did not stay very long. She said to Jinlian: “You see the sort of woman the Great Lady is. The moment her husband is dead, she begins to suspect people.” She had no idea that Li Jiao’er had stolen five bars of silver.
Uncle Wu the Second and Ben the Fourth went to see Shang and bought from him a set of coffin boards. They engaged carpenters to make them up, and the boys carried Ximen Qing to the great hall. Then they sent for Xu, the Master of the Yin Yang, to write his certificate. Uncle Wu came too, and he, his brother, and the clerks were all very busy in the outer hall. They took down the lanterns, rolled up the pictures, placed a sheet of paper over Ximen’s body, and set lamps and incense on a table before it. Laian was left to strike the bell.
The Master of the Yin Yang looked at Ximen’s hands and declared that he had died exactly at the hour of the Dragon, and that no harm would come to anyone in the household. After consulting Yueniang, he decided that Ximen should be put in his coffin on the third day. The grave was to be dug on the sixteenth of the second month, and the funeral held on the thirtieth. There would thus be more than four complete weeks between Ximen’s death and his burial.
When Xu had gone away, they began to send out the sad news to all their friends and acquaintances. They sent the seal of his office to Captain He. Everyone in the household dressed in mourning, and a temporary building was set up.
On the third day Buddhist monks came to hold the first service and to burn paper money. Chen Jingji was dressed as Ximen’s son, and stood before the body to receive those who came. Yueniang was not able to appear but was in a small room near by. Li Jiao’er and Yulou entertained the ladies. Jinlian, who was now in charge of the household funds, took in all the offerings that people sent. Xue’e stayed in the kitchen and superintended the preparation of tea and food for the visitors. Clerk Fu and Uncle Wu the Second kept the accounts. Ben the Fourth saw that mourning was distributed to the proper people. Laixing was responsible for the supply of provisions. Uncle Wu and Clerk Gan entertained the men who came.
When old woman Cai came to wash the baby, Yueniang gave her a silken dress and dismissed her. She called the baby Xiaoge.* The neighbors sent noodles as a token of congratulation. The news that Ximen Qing’s first wife had borne a child immediately after his death had quickly spread. People said it was a very strange thing that a child should be born almost at the very moment of his father’s death.
When Ying Bojue heard of Ximen’s death, he came to bemoan his friend. The two uncles Wu were watching an artist paint a portrait of Ximen Qing.
“What a sad business!” Bojue said to them. “Even in my dreams I cannot bring myself to believe that our brother has gone.” He asked to be allowed to pay his respects to Yueniang.
“My sister cannot appear,” Uncle Wu said. “She gave birth to a son the very day of her husband’s death.”
This was a surprise to Bojue. “Really?” he said. “That means that our brother has an heir to all his property.”
Chen Jingji, in the deepest mourning, came and kowtowed to Ying Bojue.
“You have all my sympathy,” Bojue said to him. “Your father is dead and your ladies are like stagnant water. You must be very careful. Do not do things as you yourself think they ought to be done. Consult your two uncles here. If you will forgive me for saying so, you are still very young and have hardly sufficient experience in business and affairs.”
“No, Brother,” Uncle Wu said, “I have too much other business to attend to. His mother is here.”
“The Great Lady is here, it is true,” Bojue said,
“but she cannot attend to affairs outside the house. You will have to do what you can for her and you will remember the maxim that the uncle on the mother’s side must always take a great part in the control of the family. You are not a stranger: you are the child’s own uncle and the most important person in the household. Nobody here stands higher than you do.” He asked when the funeral was to be.
“The grave will be dug on the sixteenth and the funeral will be on the thirtieth,” he was told.
When the Master of the Yin Yang came again, Ximen Qing was put into his coffin and it was nailed up with longevity nails. The coffin was set in position, with a tablet bearing the words “General Ximen.”
Captain He came and made reverence to the body. Uncle Wu and Ying Bojue gave him tea. Captain He asked about the funeral and gave orders that the soldiers who had been on duty at Ximen’s house should remain there. Nobody was to go away before the day of the funeral. He appointed two sergeants to command the soldiers and declared that he would punish anyone who should dare to misbehave.
“If there is anyone who owes money, let me know,” he said to Uncle Wu. “I will see what I can do to secure payment.”
He went back to the office and sent a report of Ximen’s death to the Eastern Capital.
When Laijue, Chunhong and Li the Third came to Yanzhou, they gave their letter and the present to the Censor. Song read it. It was a request that Ximen Qing might have the commission for the purchase of antiquities. “It is too late,” he said to himself, “I have already given instructions about the matter to the Prefect.” Then he saw that there were ten taels of gold leaf, and decided that it would be a pity to refuse. He told Chunhong, Laijue and Li the Third to wait and sent one of his officers in all haste to bring back the document from Dongpingfu. When it arrived, he gave it with a letter to Chunhong, together with a tael of silver for traveling money. The journey between the two places took about ten days, and when they reached Qinghe again they learned that Ximen Qing was dead. He had been dead three days, and, at that moment, service was being held for him.
The Golden Lotus, Volume 2 Page 54