While the funeral party was being held, Guiqing and Guijie secretly said to Li Jiao’er: “Mother says you have nothing much of great value, and there is no reason why you should remain any longer in Ximen’s house. Think what it means. You have no child, and there is no sense in staying on as a widow. Mother thinks the easiest plan is to start a quarrel and just break with them. Yesterday, Ying Bojue came and said that Zhang who lives in the High Street was minded to spend five hundred taels on getting you for his second wife. He will give you control of his household. Mother thinks you would do well there. There is no point in staying at Ximen’s house all your life. We who come from the bawdy house have always to work on the principle. Welcome the new and give up the old. We must make up to those who are rich and powerful: we can’t afford to waste our time.”
After Ximen Qing’s fifth week’s mind, Li Jiao’er remembered this. She did not bother about the household but let things go as they would.
“The other day,” Pan Jinlian said to Sun Xue’e, “I saw Li Jiao’er talking to Uncle Wu the Second in the small room at our family grave.”
Chunmei saw her handing Li Ming a parcel behind the screen in the great hall. He tucked it away underneath his clothes and went off with it.
Yueniang was told of these things. She scolded Uncle Wu the Second, and would not let him have any more to do with the shop. She told Ping’an that Li Ming was not to be allowed to enter the house again. Li Jiao’er was first ashamed and then angry. She had been waiting for an opportunity to make trouble, and now she had it.
One day, when Yueniang was having tea with Aunt Wu, she asked Yulou to join them, but did not ask Li Jiao’er. This made the woman very angry. She shouted at Yueniang and thumped the table upon which Ximen’s tablet rested. At the third night watch, she said she was going to hang herself. Her maid went to tell Yueniang, who was very much upset. She consulted her brother, and they sent for old woman Li and told her to take Li Jiao’er away. The old woman feared that Yueniang would not allow her to take her clothes and ornaments.
“My girl has been here and suffered from ill usage and backbiting, and you are not going to get rid of her so easily. She must have some money to wash away her shame.”
Uncle Wu, in view of his official standing, would not say anything either way, and, after much haggling, Yueniang let Li Jiao’er go with clothes, ornaments, boxes, bed, and furniture. She would not let the two maids go, though Li Jiao’er tried to insist.
“No,” she said, “certainly not. If you do take them, I shall bring an accusation against you for procuring young maids to be whores.”
This frightened the old procuress. She said no more, but smiled and thanked Yueniang. Li Jiao’er got into a sedan chair and was carried to her old home.
Readers, singing girls make their living by selling their charms. With them it is purely a business. In the morning, they receive Chang the dissolute, and in the evening Li the ne’er-do-well. At the front door they welcome the father, and by the back door they let in the son. They forget their old clients and love the new. It is their nature to keep their eyes open when there is any money about. Even if a man loves them with his whole heart and does everything in his power to make them true, their hearts can never be secured. They steal the very food from a man’s mouth, and as soon as he is dead, they quarrel and go away, back to their old business.
I laugh at the flowers of the mist
Which no one can keep for long.
Every night they find a new bridegroom.
Their jade-like arms are the pillow for a thousand men
Their ruby lips are enjoyed by ten thousand guests.
Their seductions are many
And their hearts are false.
You may devise a host of schemes to hold them
But you can never keep them
From longing for their old haunts.
When Li Jiao’er had gone, Yueniang sobbed aloud and the other ladies tried to console her. “Sister,” Jinlian said, “don’t let it upset you so much. The proverb says that when a man marries a whore, it is like trying to keep a seagull away from the water. When it cannot get to the water, it still thinks about the eastern ocean. All this was his fault.”
While they were busied over this, Ping’an came and announced that his Excellency Cai, the Salt Commissioner, had come. “He is in the great hall,” the boy said. “I told him that master had died. He asked when, and I said on the twenty-first day of the first month, and that we were now in the fifth week after his death. He asked me if the tablet had been set up, and I told him it was in the inner court. He wishes to pay reverence to it.”
“Go and tell your brother-in-law to see him,” Yueniang said.
Jingji put on mourning clothes and went to receive Cai. After a while, the inner court was made ready and Cai was invited to go there. He kowtowed before the tablet. Yueniang in return made reverence to him. He did not speak to her, except to invite her to retire. Then he said to Jingji: “Your father was very kind to me, and today, on my way to the Eastern Capital, I stayed especially to thank him. I never dreamed that I should find him dead. What was the cause of his death?”
“Inflammation of the lungs,” Jingji told him.
“How very sad!” said Commissioner Cai.
He called his servants, and they brought him two rolls of Hangzhou silk, a pair of woolen socks, four fish, and four jars of preserved food. “These trifles,” he said, “I offer to him who is dead.” Then he gave Jingji fifty taels of silver. “Your father,” he said, “was good enough to lend me this, and now that I have been paid myself, I return the money to set the seal upon our friendship.” He asked Ping’an to take the money.
“Your Excellency is over-conscientious,” Jingji said.
Yueniang told him to take Cai to the outer court, but the Commissioner said that he could not stay and would only drink a cup of tea. The servant brought the tea, and Cai went away.
Yueniang was half pleased, half sad when she received these fifty taels of silver. She reflected that if Ximen Qing had been alive he would never have allowed such a nobleman to go away without staying for something to eat. He would have remained, she thought, and enjoyed the pleasures of the table for many an hour. Now, he had stood up and gone. Though she still was rich, there was no man to entertain such guests.
When Ying Bojue heard that Li Jiao’er had gone back to the bawdy house, he went to tell Zhang the Second. Zhang took five taels of silver and went to spend the night with her. He was one year younger than Ximen Qing. His animal was the Hare, and he was thirty-two. Li Jiao’er was thirty-four, but the old procuress told him she was twenty-eight and warned Ying Bojue not to let him know the truth. So Zhang the Second paid three hundred taels and took Li Jiao’er for his second wife.
Zhu Shinian and Sun Guazui took Wang the Third to Li Guijie’s house, and he attached himself to her again.
Then Ying Bojue, Li the Third, and Huang the Fourth borrowed five thousand taels from Eunuch Xu, and another five thousand from Zhang the Second, and began the business of purchasing antiquities for the authorities. Every day they went riding about on magnificent horses and calling at one bawdy house after another.
Zhang the Second, now that Ximen Qing was dead, spent five thousand taels in bribing Zheng, one of the royal family in the Eastern Capital, so as to secure the appointment that Ximen Qing had held. He did much work upon his garden and rebuilt his house, and Bojue was there nearly every day. Bojue told him everything he knew about Ximen’s household.
“His Fifth Lady,” he said, “is as beautiful as a painting. She knows poems, songs, literature, philosophy, games, backgammon and chess. She can write very beautifully and play the lute exquisitely. She is not more than thirty years old and much more charming than any singing girl.”
Zhang the Second was greatly impressed and wondered what he could do to get her for himself.
“Is that the woman who was once the wife of Wu Da the cake seller?” he asked.
“Yes,�
� Bojue said. “She has been in Ximen’s household for five or six years. I don’t know whether she would be inclined to consider another marriage.”
“Please find out for me,” Zhang the Second said. “If she has any such idea, let me know at once, and I will marry her.”
“I have a man still in that household,” Ying Bojue said. “His name is Laijue. I will tell him. And if he can do anything in the matter, I will certainly let you know. It would be much better for you to marry her than some singing girl. When Ximen Qing married her, he had considerable trouble, but things are never the same twice, and what will happen on this occasion, I cannot say. But anyone who gets hold of a beauty like this will be a lucky fellow. You are a man of position, and you certainly ought to have someone like her to enhance its splendor. Otherwise, all your wealth is wasted. I will tell Laijue to find out what he can for us. If there is the slightest whisper of the word marriage, I will see what my sweet words and honeyed phrases can do to inflame that amorous heart. It may cost you a few hundred taels, but it will be worth it.”
Readers, all those who live upon others are men who seek for power and money. In their time, Ximen Qing and Ying Bojue had been like blood brothers. They might have been glued together, so close was their affection. Day after day, Bojue took his meals with Ximen, and was given clothes. Now, when his friend had only just died, almost before his body was cold, Bojue was planning to bring disgrace upon him. With friends, it is only too possible to know the face and to know nothing about the heart, just as an artist may paint the outside of a tiger, but must leave the bones unseen.
CHAPTER 81
Han Daoguo Defrauds Wu Yueniang
Han Daoguo and Laibao had taken four thousand taels of Ximen Qing’s money and gone south of the river to buy goods. When they came to Yangzhou, they went at once to see Miao Qing, proposing to stay with him. Miao Qing remembered how Ximen had saved his life, and treated the two men with very great kindness. He bought a girl called Chuyun and took her to his house, intending to make a present of her to Ximen Qing in return for the favors he had received from him.
Han Daoguo and Laibao neglected their business and amused themselves with the young ladies of the town. But when winter came, they grew homesick and got busy buying silk and cloth, which they brought back to Miao Qing’s place, proposing to start home again when they had bought enough.
Han Daoguo grew very attached to a girl called Wang Yuzhi, who lived at an old established bawdy house of Yangzhou, and Laibao to Xiaohong, the younger sister of a girl called Lin Caihong. One day, they asked Miao Qing and a salt merchant named Wang Haifeng, to go for a day’s amusement on the Baoying lake. When they came back, they went to the bawdy house. It happened to be the birthday of Wang Yuzhi’s mother, and Han Daoguo decided to invite a number of other men and have a party to celebrate the occasion. So he sent his boy Hu Xiu to ask two merchants, Wang Dongqiao and Qian Qingchuan, but before the boy himself came back, the two merchants arrived with Wang Haifeng. It was nearly sunset when the boy came.
“What has made you so late?” Han Daoguo, who had had a good deal of wine, said to him. “Where have you been drinking? I can smell the wine in your breath. My guests have been here some time already: they came long before you showed any signs of turning up. I will deal with you tomorrow.”
Hu Xiu looked at Han Daoguo out of the corners of his eyes and went out. “It’s all very well for you to scold me,” he muttered, “when your own wife is in bed with another man. Here you are enjoying yourself, while in your house at home, your master is enjoying your wife. He only sent you here because he wanted her. You are happy here and you never think of the burden she has to bear.”
The old procuress heard this and dragged the boy to the courtyard. “Master Hu,” she said, “you are drunk. Go and sleep.” But Hu Xiu shouted and struggled and would not go. Han Daoguo, who was entertaining his friends, heard the noise, and it made him very angry. He came out and kicked the boy.
“You slave,” he cried, “I can hire anybody to take your place for five fen of silver a day. I don’t need to keep you. Get out of here!”
Hu Xiu would not go. “You would dare to send me away, would you?” he shouted. “Have you found anything wrong in the way I’ve handled the money? Here you are, spending money on women, and you dare to drive me away. You will see whether I tell our master or not.”
Laibao came out and took Han Daoguo away. Then he came back and said to Hu Xiu: “You rascal, this is just drunken brawling.”
“Uncle,” said Hu Xiu, “don’t you meddle in this. I am not drunk, but I’ll show him what I think of him.”
Laibao hustled him into the house and made him lie down and go to sleep. Han Daoguo was very anxious that his friends should not lose their respect for him. He and Laibao entertained them; the three singing girls sang and danced for them, and they played all kinds of games. At the third night watch, the party broke up.
The next day, Han Daoguo would have punished Hu Xiu, but the boy swore he did not remember a word of what he had said, and Miao Qing intervened on his behalf. In due course, they finished their purchases. The goods were packed up and loaded upon the boat. But Chuyun, whom Miao Qing had bought to present to Ximen Qing, suddenly fell ill and could not go with them. “When she is better,” Miao Qing said, “I will send her to your master.”
He wrote a letter and prepared some presents, then saw the two men and Hu Xiu start back to Qinghe. The three singing girls also went to see them off.
It was the tenth day of the first month when they left Yangzhou. One day, they came to Linjiang lock. Han Daoguo was standing in the bows of the boat, when he saw his neighbor Yan the Fourth on a boat coming towards them. This Yan was coming to meet some official, and when he saw Han Daoguo, he bowed and shouted: “Han, your master died in the first month.” The two boats passed so quickly that there was no chance for any further conversation. Han did not say a word to Laibao.
This was a very dry year in Henan and Shandong. There were no crops on the land; the cotton was a failure, and the fields were bare. The price of material went up and every roll of cloth fetched three-tenths more than its regular price. Merchants took their money with them and set out to buy goods even many miles away.
“We have four thousand taels’ worth of goods,” Han Daoguo said to Laibao. “Here we can get three-tenths more than the regular price and I think we should do well to sell half of what we have. We shall have less duty to pay and I don’t believe we are at all likely to do any better at home. It would be a pity to let this opportunity slip.”
“You are quite right,” Laibao said, “but our master may be annoyed when we get home.”
“If he is,” Han Daoguo said, “I will take the blame.”
Laibao said no more, and they sold a thousand taels’ worth of cloth in that place.
“You and Hu Xiu stay here until the duty is paid,” Han Daoguo said then, “and I will take the boy Wang Han, together with the thousand taels we have just got, overland to our master.”
“When you get there,” Laibao said, “ask him for a letter to Officer Qian so that we have not to pay so much duty and can get our boats through before the others.”
Han Daoguo promised, and he and the boy packed some of their things, loaded them upon a mule, and started overland for Qinghe. At last, they reached the southern gate of the city about sunset and met Ximen’s grave keeper, Zhang An, pushing a wheelbarrow in which were rice, wine, and boxes of food. He was taking them outside the city.
“What! Are you back, Uncle Han?” the grave keeper cried, when he saw Han Daoguo.
Han noted that the man was wearing mourning and asked the reason.
“Our master is dead,” Zhang An said, “and tomorrow, the ninth day of the third month, will be his last week’s mind. The Great Lady has sent me with these things to the grave because they are coming tomorrow to burn paper offerings for him.”
“What a terrible business! What a terrible business!” Han Daoguo said.
He found, as he went home down the street, that everybody was talking about Ximen Qing’s death. When he came to the crossroads, he thought for a while. “If I go to Ximen’s place,” he said to himself, “he is dead. Besides, it is very late and I had better go home and see what my wife has to say. It won’t be too late if I go to my master’s place tomorrow.” So he and Wang Han drove the mules to Lion Street to his own house. When they reached there, they dismounted, knocked until the door was opened, then dismissed the porters, and Wang Han carried in the luggage. Han’s wife welcomed him. He made reverence to the family god, then Wang Liu’er helped him to take off his outer clothes, and the maid brought tea. He told his wife all about his journey.
“I met Brother Yan and Zhang An,” he said, “and so learned of our master’s death. What did he die of? He was quite well when I went away.”
“Heaven sends unexpected weather,” Wang Liu’er said, “and human beings have many changes of fortune. Nobody dare prophesy about his own end.”
Han Daoguo opened his luggage and brought out clothes and silk. He took out the thousand taels, one packet after another, and put them on the bed. His wife opened them and saw the shining silver.
“What is this?” she said.
“As soon as I heard of our master’s death, I sold part of the merchandise for a thousand taels,” Han Daoguo told her. He put down another hundred taels of his own.
“When I was away,” he continued, “did he come to see how you were getting on?”
“Everything was all right so long as he was alive,” the woman said. “Do you intend to give them all that silver?”
“I was going to see what you thought about it. I think if I gave them half, that would be quite enough.”
“You silly fellow,” Wang Liu’er said, “don’t be such a fool. The master is dead now and we have really no more obligation to them. If you give them half, you may get into trouble because they may want to know where the rest is. Let us make up our minds, take the thousand taels, hire a mule or two, and go to the Eastern Capital. We will go to our daughter’s place, and I don’t imagine our own kinsfolk will turn us away.”
The Golden Lotus, Volume 2 Page 56