The Golden Lotus, Volume 2

by Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng

  The wild goose rests on the barren sand

  A fine rain drenches the dark forest

  A heavy frost chills the air.

  He who is not a wayfarer

  Will never know what Autumn is.

  At last Chen Jingji reached home. Chen Ding was standing at the door. Jingji’s face was as black as lacquer and his clothes were nothing but rags. The servant was shocked. He took his master in and asked him where the boat was.

  For a long time the young man could not speak. Then he told the servant what had happened to him in Yanzhou. “Fortunately,” he said, “the Prefect set me free or my life would have been in danger. Then that heaven-destroying rascal Yang stole my merchandise, and I have no idea where he has gone.” He told Chen Ding to go to Yang’s house to find out if he had returned. Chen Ding was told that Yang the Elder had not yet come home. Then Jingji himself went to Yang’s house, but could get no information. He was very much upset and went to his wife’s room. He found her quarreling with Feng Jinbao. Indeed the two women had spent all their time quarreling while he had been away.

  His wife said that Feng Jinbao had given a great sum of money to the old procuress and that the old woman came every day, stole things away, and brought food and wine that she ate with her daughter. She herself could get nothing to eat. Feng Jinbao used to sleep until noon and would not give her a penny to buy anything with.

  Feng Jinbao said that Ximen Dajie did not do a stroke of work. She would not even stoop down to pick up a piece of straw. She stole rice and changed it for buns. She stole the preserved meats and ate them with her maid.

  Chen Jingji believed what Feng Jinbao said and cursed his wife. “You whore!” he cried. “Are you starving that you must steal rice and change it for buns? And you and your maid have been stealing meat.”

  He beat the maid and kicked his wife. This annoyed her so much that she went and beat her head against her enemy’s. “You whore!” she cried. “It was you who stole the things and gave them to the old whore. Yet you lie to my husband and say I stole them. That is like the thief arresting the policeman. You told my husband to kick me. Well, I will live no longer and you shall die with me.”

  “How dare you, you little strumpet,” Jingji cried. “You are not worth one of her little toes.”

  With one hand he seized his wife’s hair and beat her with the other. He kicked her, too. She bled from nose and mouth and was unconscious for a long time. Jingji went to the other room with the singing girl.

  Alone in her room, Ximen Dajie sobbed bitterly. Her maid went to sleep in another room. At midnight, Ximen Qing’s daughter tied a rope around the beam and hanged herself. She was only twenty-four years old.

  The next morning, when her maid got up and tried to open the door, she could not. Jingji and Feng Jinbao were still in bed. Feng Jinbao told her maid to go to Ximen Dajie and ask for a bowl so that she could wash her feet. But the maid could not open the door.

  “What!” Jingji cried. “Is she still in bed? It is not early now. I will go and open the strumpet’s door and pull her hair for her.”

  The maid looked through the window. “She is up there,” she said; “I can see her swinging. She looks as if she were trying to be one of the dolls in a puppet play.”

  Then Ximen Dajie’s maid looked through the window. “Father,” she cried, “Mother has hanged herself.”

  Chen Jingji was much disturbed at this. He and Feng Jinbao got up. They forced open the door and cut Ximen Dajie down. But she had been dead a long time, and nobody knew the hour at which she had died.

  When Chen Ding heard of his mistress’s death, he was afraid he might be involved in the matter and went to tell Wu Yueniang. So she heard that her daughter had hanged herself and her son-in-law had taken up with a singing girl. The hatred between herself and Jingji was like ice three feet thick, not the result of one night’s frost. She went with servants, maids, and women, seven or eight of them, and came to Jingji’s door. There she roundly declared that her daughter had hanged herself, and made a great to-do. She seized Jingji and beat him and even stuck awls into him. The singing girl, Feng Jinbao, hid under a bed, but was dragged out and beaten until she was half dead. They smashed the doors and windows and took away the bed and curtains and furniture that had belonged to Ximen Dajie.

  Then Yueniang went home and sent for Uncle Wu the Elder and

  Uncle Wu the Second.

  “Sister,” Uncle Wu the Elder said, “we must take this opportunity and bring him before the courts, or he will make things very unpleasant in the future. He is sure to come and demand his property, and, if we don’t look a long way ahead, we shall have trouble. We had better go to law at once and have the thing settled once and for all.”

  “Brother, you are right,” Yueniang said.

  They drew up an accusation and, the next day, Yueniang herself went to the magistrate. When she went to the Town Hall, her accusation was sent in.

  The new magistrate was called Huo Dali. He was a graduate and a native of Huanggang, an upright and conscientious man. When he was told about the suicide, he went to the hall and took the accusation. It said:

  The accuser is the Lady Wu, thirty-four years of age, widow of the late Ximen Qing, Captain. She accuses her evil son-in-law as a deceiver and oppressor. He believed the words of a strumpet and forced his wife to hang herself. The Lady Wu implores you to investigate this matter and save her life.

  This son-in-law is Chen Jingji. He came to her when he was in trouble and lived in her house for many years. He was fond of wine and caused trouble. He was undutiful and created disturbances within and without the household. Being a law-abiding woman, she got rid of him. Ever since that time he has hated her and treated his wife badly. He beat her and ill-used her, but she bore it for a long time.

  Then he brought home a strumpet from Linqing, a certain Feng Jinbao. This woman occupied the room that should have been the Lady Wu’s daughter’s. He believed whatever she said to him, and ill-used his wife in every way. He pulled her hair and kicked her till her body was covered with bruises, and she could bear it no longer.

  Then, at the third night watch on the twenty-third day of the eighth month of this year, she hanged herself.

  This Chen Jingji obstinately seeks to oppress the Lady Wu, and threatens that he will kill her also. This is intolerable, and she implores your Lordship to arrest and try him for being the cause of her daughter’s death.

  So may evil doers know the law, and the good live in peace. So will the dead be avenged.

  With this accusation, the Lady Wu accuses this man. To the Magistrate of the District, whose justice is that of the Blue Heavens.

  The magistrate looked at Yueniang. She was wearing white. She was, he remembered, the widow of an officer of the fifth class. She was dignified in manner and refined in appearance. He rose and said: “Lady, stand up. I believe you are the widow of an officer. I understand. Go home and leave a servant to take your place here. I will have the man arrested at once.”

  Yueniang thanked him and went home in a sedan chair, leaving Laizhao behind. The magistrate ordered two runners to take the white badge to their office and arrest Chen Jingji and Feng Jinbao, and order the attendance of the watchman in that neighborhood.

  Jingji was very busy making preparations for the funeral when he heard that runners had been sent to arrest him at the request of his mother-in-law. He was almost distracted. Feng Jinbao, who was in bed after the beating she had received at Yueniang’s hands, was so terrified when she heard that she was under arrest, that she hardly knew whether she was alive or dead. Without stopping to think, Jingji tried to bribe the runners, but the runners bound them with one cord and hauled them to the Town Hall. The neighbors and the local watchman went to the Town Hall with them.

  When the magistrate heard that they had come, he went again to the hall. Laizhao knelt down on the left, Chen Jingji, Feng Jinbao and the others on the steps.

  “You wicked man,” the magistrate said to Jin
gji, “why did you listen to this singing girl and cause your wife’s death? Have you anything to say?”

  “My lord,” Jingji said, “I did not beat her. It is all because of a partner I had who went away with me to do business. He stole my money, and when I came home I was in a very bad temper. I asked her for some food and she would not listen to me. I did kick her that time. Then, in the night, she hanged herself and so died.”

  “You had that strumpet,” the Magistrate said angrily. “Why should you ask your wife to get you food? It was unreasonable. According to the accusation that has been brought against you, you beat your wife and she killed herself. Is that true or not?”

  “The Lady Wu hates me,” Jingji said, “and she has made up the whole of this story. I implore you, my lord, to go most carefully into the matter.”

  “Her daughter is dead,” the Magistrate said. “Do you imagine you are going to get out of it?” He told his attendants to give Jingji twenty strokes with the rod.

  Then Feng Jinbao was called forward, and thumbscrews were put on her. The magistrate gave orders that they should be thrown into jail and told one of his underlings to go with the neighbors and police to examine the body. They found bruises all over the body and the mark of the rope around Ximen Dajie’s neck. They wrote down this report: “After Chen Jingji had severely handled her, she hanged herself, unable to bear his ill usage any longer.”

  When this report was brought to the magistrate, he was very angry. He ordered ten more strokes to be given to Chen Jingji and ten to Feng Jinbao also. He declared that Jingji was guilty of his wife’s death, and sentenced him to strangulation. Feng Jinbao was sentenced to a hundred strokes with a rod, and afterwards to serve as the public whore.

  Jingji was in a terrible state. He sent a note to Chen Ding and told him to take every penny there was in the shop and his wife’s ornaments, a hundred taels in all, and secretly take them to the magistrate. So, during the night, the magistrate altered the sentence and made it appear that he had been found guilty of having been the cause of his wife’s death in the less criminal sense, imprisoning him for five years with permission to purchase his freedom.

  Yueniang continually pressed the magistrate for justice.

  At last he sent for her. “Lady,” he said, “we have discovered the marks of the rope on your daughter’s neck, so it is clear that she was not murdered. I do not wish to be unjust to anyone and, if you are afraid that he will make trouble with you in the future, I will arrange matters in such a way that he will never come near you again.” He sent for Jingji and said to him: “I have been very lenient with you. You must amend your evil ways and begin to lead a new life. I forbid you ever to go and cause a disturbance at this lady’s house. If you come before me again, I shall not forgive you. Go home and buy a coffin and bury your wife and then come back and report to me. I shall send an account of this matter to those in authority over me.”

  Jingji paid the fine that gave him back his freedom, and went home. He put his wife’s body into a coffin, but kept it at home only seven days. Then the religious service was held and the body taken outside the city and buried. He returned to the Town Hall, and there spent much money. Feng Jinbao had gone; he had lost all his property; his things were sold and his house disposed of. Only his life was left to him. He dared not mention his mother-in-law’s name.

  CHAPTER 93

  Chen Jingji Becomes a Monk

  He stands on the steps and his tears fall silently

  In the crowd his heart is full of discontent.

  He breathes the air about him in a daze

  And knows not his own feelings.

  A warm breeze comes to the merry feast.

  The sun shines brightly on the pollen of the flowers.

  Yet even here his sorrow deepens.

  He lives a life apart and only longs

  To see the Springtide pass.

  Chen Jingji had saved only his life. He sold his house and he had spent all his capital. His wife’s ornaments were all gone, and there was no furniture left. He suspected that Chen Ding had made money at his expense, and dismissed him. Now he led a miserable existence without a penny to spend. He went several times to Yang’s place to find out if Yang had come back with the goods.

  One day, he went and shouted: “Is Yang the Elder at home?”

  Now Yang had stolen Jingji’s things and sold them. He hid himself in one place and another until he heard that Jingji’s wife was dead and that the young man had been sent to prison for sometime on his mother-in-law’s accusation. Then he came home. When he heard Chen Jingji’s voice outside asking for the return of his property, he told his younger brother to go out and see him.

  “You took my brother away on some of your business,” Yang the Second said. “We have not heard a word from him for months, and, for all we know, you may have thrown him into the river and murdered him. Now, here you are, daring to come and ask about your merchandise. Do you think your merchandise is more important than my brother’s life?”

  This Yang the Second was a very bad man, a terrible fellow to meet in the gambling den. The purple muscles stood out on his arms and there was a mop of yellow hair on his chest. He was a villain pure and simple. He caught hold of Chen Jingji and demanded his brother. Jingji was frightened, struggled, and tried to get away. Yang the Second picked up a broken tile with three edges and deliberately gashed his own head so that the blood ran down. Then he ran after Jingji.

  “I’ll shove my spade in your mother’s eye,” he said. “What do we know about your money that you come farting around our house? Come here, and taste my fist.”

  Jingji ran for his life. When he got home, he fastened the door as tight as the lid of an iron pail. Outside it, Yang the Second cursed Chen Jingji, his father and his mother. Then he took some stones to smash open the door and Jingji held his breath. He had just come out of jail and had to put up with it. He was like a man who has once been bitten by a snake, afraid even of a piece of rope that he sees in a dream.

  Some days later, he sold his house and got seventy taels of silver for it. He rented a small house in a very quiet road and went to live there. He sold the maid he had bought for Feng Jinbao and kept Ximen Dajie’s maid to sleep with him. In less than a month, he sold the small house and went to live in a lodging house. Chen Ding no longer served him, and the maid died. He was alone in the world. He sold what furniture he had and was as poor as an old suit of clothes. Then he could not pay his rent and had to go and live at the Beggars’ Rest.

  The beggars knew he had been a rich man, and he was a good-looking fellow, so they gave him the stove bed to lie on and cakes to eat, and recommended him to the watchman as a bell ringer.

  In the twelfth month, towards the end of winter, it was snowing heavily and the wind was very cold. Jingji came back from beating the alarm for the watchman. Then he went around the streets again with his bell. There were wind and snow together, and he had to tramp over the icy ground. It was so cold that he hunched his shoulders and bent his back and shivered all the time. About the fifth night watch, he saw a beggar ill and collapsed against a wall. The policeman thought the beggar was going to die and told Jingji to get some straw to warm him. Jingji went to sleep there, after doing all he could for the beggar. He had a dream. He dreamed he was back again in Ximen Qing’s house, enjoying luxury and wealth, playing and joking with Pan Jinlian. Then he cried and woke up. Some of the other beggars came and asked him why he was crying. “Ah, Brothers,” he said, “you do not know what I have had to bear.” Every night, Jingji went to the Beggars’ Rest, and every day went out to beg for food.

  Long years he has suffered hardship

  Bewailing his wife’s death

  Without clothes to cover his body

  And food to put in his mouth.

  His horse is dead

  His servant run away

  His house is sold.

  Now, all alone, he wanders through the land

  Standing, in the morning, outsid
e the shops

  To beg a scrap of bread

  And, in the evening, lodges beside a ruined wall

  Away from human habitation.

  One hope alone is left to him

  To go the watchman’s round in the cold night.

  In the city of Qinghe there lived an old man called Wang Xuan, whose other name was Ting Yong. He was more than sixty years old and very wealthy. He was a kind-hearted man who spent his money trying to help others. He always gave alms to the poor and assisted those in distress, and was very kind and very devout. His two sons were both married. One, Wang Qian, had inherited his grandfather’s position at the royal mews and held the rank of Captain; the other, Wang Zhen, was a student at the Academy of Learning. The old gentleman had a small pawnshop. He had all the food he needed and all the clothes he could wear, and nothing to do but go to temples and monasteries to hear the preachings of the monks. He used to distribute medicine to the people, count his beads, and study the teachings of Buddha. He had two apricot trees in his garden, and took as his name in religion the Hermit of the Apricot Trees.

  One day this old gentleman, wearing a monastic habit and a double-brimmed hat, was standing outside his door when Chen Jingji came along. The young man knelt down and kowtowed to him. The old man made a reverence in return.

  “Brother,” he said, “who are you? My sight is so bad I can’t recognize you.”

  Jingji stood shivering. “Sir,” he said, “I am Chen Hong’s son.”

  The old man thought over this for a long time. “So you are Chen’s son,” he said at last. “My good nephew, how do you come to be in such a state? How are your father and mother?”

  “My father died at the Eastern Capital,” Jingji said, “and my mother is dead too.”

  “I believe you have been living with your father-in-law,” the old man said.

  “Yes,” Jingji said, “but when he died, my mother-in-law would not have me any longer. Her daughter died, and we had a lawsuit. I had to sell my house, and I was cheated out of the little money I had. I have no work to do, and there is no way in which I can make a living.”