The Debt of Tears

by Cao Xueqin

  ‘What!’ thundered the judge impressively. ‘In your original deposition it says quite plainly that you saw the incident with your own eyes. Are you now trying to tell me that you saw nothing?’

  ‘When I made that first statement, Your Honour, I was in such a fluster that I must have got my facts a bit muddled…’

  Another growl through the ranks.

  ‘Next witness!’ ordered the judge.

  The next witness was Wu Liang, Xue Pan’s ‘friend’.

  ‘Tell me,’ said the judge, ‘were you sitting drinking with the defendant at the time of the crime? Exactly how did the fatal blow occur? Be sure to speak the truth.’

  ‘On the day in question, Your Honour,’ replied Wu, ‘Mr Xue called at my house and kindly invited me out for a drink. As he was dissatisfied with the quality of the wine, he ordered a fresh jug to be brought. But the waiter, Zhang San, refused to oblige. This annoyed Mr Xue, and by way of protest he threw the contents of his cup in the waiters face. It all happened very fast, and somehow the cup must have slipped from Xue’s hand and collided with Zhang’s head. This is a true account of the incident as I saw it with my own eyes.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ cried the judge. ‘Why, at the Inquest the defendant himself admitted to “assaulting Zhang and dealing the fatal blow with the cup”, and you verified the admission yourself. This is perjury! Slap his face!’

  An answering cry came from the appropriate section of the court, and the punishment was about to be administered, when Wu protested:

  ‘Mr Xue never started a fight, sir! The cup slipped from his hand and collided with Zhang’s head! It was all an accident! Question the defendant himself! Have mercy!’

  The judge summoned Xue Pan.

  ‘Now, Xue, for the last time, tell me: what was your grudge against Zhang San? And how did he meet with his death? I want the whole truth!’

  ‘Your Honour, be merciful I beseech you!’ pleaded Xue Pan. ‘I never raised a hand to strike the man. All I did was empty my cup on the floor because he refused to bring the wine I had ordered. Before I knew it, the cup slipped from my hand and struck him on the head. I did all I could to staunch the wound, but it was hopeless. The loss of blood was so great that he died in a matter of minutes. At the Inquest I was in such fear of torture that I made a false confession of assault. I beg Your Honour to show mercy accordingly!’

  ‘Miserable wretch!’ bellowed the judge. ‘You have already pleaded guilty to intentional assault. Are you now trying to say that it was no more than an accidental collision?’

  He went on in this fashion, making a series of suitably august noises, threatening Pan with the rod one minute and the rack the next, if he would not confess. This time, however, Pan persisted in his denial.

  The coroner was now called upon to make public the results of his post-mortem.

  ‘May it please Your Honour, I have duly examined the corpse of Zhang San, and find no trace of injury but a single scalp-wound, caused by a porcelain artifact. The wound is approximately one and three-quarter inches in length, penetrating to a depth of half an inch. The bregmatic bone has sustained a fracture approximately one third of an inch in length. The type of wound points unmistakably to a collision of an accidental nature.’

  The judge checked the coroner’s certificate, which (as he knew quite well) had been altered by his clerk, and without raising any objections casually asked all concerned to sign their statements.

  ‘But Yeronner!’ wailed Mrs Zhang. ‘What about all them other wounds? Ever so many there was! Coronary said so himself last time, I remember! Where’ve they all got to now?’

  ‘Foolish woman!’ exclaimed the judge. ‘Here is the certificate, duly signed – see for yourself.’

  He called the dead man’s uncle forward (a more cooperative witness):

  ‘Zhang Er, will you tell the court how many wounds there were on your nephew’s corpse?’

  ‘Just the one on his skull, sir,’ replied Zhang.

  The judge turned to Mrs Zhang:

  ‘What further need have you of proof!’

  He told the clerk of the court to hand Mrs Zhang the certificate, and instructed the chief beadle and Zhang Er to explain it to her. The other documents in the case were now collated – the proceedings of the inquest, duly authenticated with the signatures of those present at the time, and the depositions of the witnesses, which were now unanimous in stating that there had been no quarrel, ergo no assault, ergo Xue Pan was only guilty of ‘causing fatal bodily harm by mischance’, a lesser degree of manslaughter redeemable by payment of a fine. The parties were now required to affix their signature or mark to the document, Xue Pan was detained until confirmation of his sentence was received, and Wu Liang and his guarantor were released. The court was adjourned.

  As the judge was leaving, Mrs Zhang broke into another untimely bout of wailing and sobbing, and he ordered the court lictors to send her packing. Uncle Zhang also did what he could to bring her to her senses:

  ‘It really was an accident,’ he said, ‘so why hold an innocent man guilty? His Honour has passed sentence now, so for goodness’ sake pipe down.’

  Xue Ke had been waiting outside, and was greatly relieved to hear that all had gone according to plan. He sent a letter home, saying that he planned to stay on until the confirmation came through, when he would pay Xue Pan’s fine.

  Walking through the town later that day, he became aware of a buzz of excited conversation in the street:

  ‘Have you heard? One of the Imperial Concubines has passed away, and there’s to be a three-day Recess at Court…’

  Since the Imperial Mausoleum was not far from the town, Xue Ke thought to himself, the judge would now be busy preparing for the funeral and repairing the road with yellow earth for the procession. He would hardly have time to think about routine legal matters, and consequently he himself would achieve little by hanging around. So he went to the jail and explained to Pan that he was going home for a few days. Pan was glad for his mother’s sake, and sent a brief note to reassure her. ‘I’m fine,’ he wrote. ‘A few more taels in the right pockets and I’ll be home! But be sure to keep the cash flowing!’ Xue Ke left the boy Li Xiang behind just in case, and set off home straight away.

  On arrival, he gave Aunt Xue a full account of how the judge had managed the transition from ‘assault’ to ‘mischance’.

  ‘All that’s left now,’ he finished by saying, ‘is to give the Zhangs a bit more money. Then, when the commutation is confirmed, it will all be over.’

  Aunt Xue breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘I was hoping you would be able to come home,’ she said. ‘I have been wanting to go over and thank the Jias for all that they’ve done, and I thought it would be nice if I could go and keep an eye on things for Aunt Wang and spend some time with the girls. With the death of the Zhou Concubine the family is away every day and they must be rather lonely at home. But I couldn’t go until now because there was no one here to take charge.’

  ‘The funny thing is that on my way here I heard it was the Jia Concubine that had died,’ said Xue Ke. ‘That’s why I came back in such a hurry – though I must say I found it hard to credit.’

  ‘She was ill a while ago,’ replied Aunt Xue. ‘But she recovered, and I have heard nothing about her being ill since. It’s odd, though: Lady Jia was not feeling well a few days ago, and whenever she closed her eyes she had a vision of Her Grace. Everyone was most concerned at first, and they even sent someone to Court to inquire, but were told that Her Grace was in good health. Then, three days ago, in the evening, Lady Jia suddenly said out loud: “Why have you come all this way on your own to see me, Your Grace?” This time they put it down to her illness and didn’t take it seriously. “If you don’t believe me,” said Lady Jia, “let me tell you what Her Grace said: Prosperity may all too soon be spent; draw back, draw back before it is too late.” They thought she was imagining it all – it was just the sort of thing a lady of her years would be preoccupied wi
th, after all – and paid no attention. So can you imagine the panic the next morning, when somehow they heard from Court that one of the Concubines was critically ill, and that all members of the family with titles were to proceed to the Palace! They were in the most dreadful state when they set off! But before they had even left the palace, we heard that it was the Zhou Concubine. It is odd, don’t you agree, that the rumour you heard should have tallied so exactly with Lady Jia’s premonitions?’

  ‘The public always gets its facts mixed up,’ commented Bao-chai, ‘and the Jias are so sensitive about the whole thing that they’ve only to hear the words “Her Grace” mentioned to start jumping to the most dire conclusions. It nearly always turns out to be a false alarm. During this latest excitement, I was chatting to one or two of their maids and older serving-women, and they told me they’d known all along that it couldn’t possibly have been Her Grace. I asked one of them how they could be so sure, and she told me of something that happened several years ago.

  ‘It was the first month of the year, and there was a fortune-teller from one of the provinces here in the capital, who had been recommended to the family for his great accuracy. Lady Jia gave instructions to slip Her Grace’s Eight Stems and Branches in with some of the maids’, and to ask this man to tell their fortunes. He singled hers out at once. “There must be some mistake here”, he said. “I see that this young lady was born on the first of the first month. If the Stem and Branch of her natal hour were correct, she would have to be a person of high estate, and not a servant in this household.” Sir Zheng and the others urged him to cast the horoscope anyway, so he went on: “The Cyclical Year Jia Shen (Wood + Metal), the Prime Month Bing Yin (Fire + Wood). Both Failure and Decline are present. Although the Year Branch Shen shows Rank and Wealth, as it is not her fate to be raised within the household, the aspect of this Branch is not particularly favourable. The Day Yi Mao (Wood + Wood), com mencement of Spring, Wood at its zenith. We have here a conflict, a Configuration of Peers. In this case it enhances the subject, just as fine timber is only fashioned into an instrument of true greatness when it encounters the axe. The Hour Stem Xin (Metal) indicates Nobility, while the Hour Branch Si (Fire) indicates Rank and Fortune again, this time the High Degree known as Lucky Horse Rides the Sky. The Day Conjunction shows Supreme Rank and the Forces of Heaven and the Moon presiding over her fate. She will be favoured with residence in the Imperial Bedchamber. If the Hour Stem and Branch are correct, this subject must be an Imperial Concubine.”

  ‘As the maid said,’ Bao-chai continued, ‘the horoscope fitted Her Grace perfectly. They remembered the end part, too. “Alas!” he said, “such Glory cannot endure. When Hare meets Tiger, and Wood meets Wood, in a Mao Month of a Yin Year, her Peers will outshine her, the Decline will reach its nadir, and the fine wood, through being too prettily carved, will lose its heart and strength.” Although the family in their panic forgot all about this final prediction, the maid remembered. As she said to Cousin Wan, “this is a Yin Year, and we’ve already passed the Mao Month, so it couldn’t be Her Grace!”

  Bao-chai had hardly finished when Xue Ke exclaimed:

  ‘Forget about the Jias for a minute; if there is such a good fortune-teller around, why not ask him about Pan? Perhaps he could tell us what evil force has crossed his path and brought him such bad luck this year? Give me Pan’s Stems and Branches, and I’ll go and find out if the future holds any mote upsets in store for him.’

  ‘The fortune-teller was from one of the provinces. Who knows where he is now?’ replied Bao-chai.

  During this conversation, they had already started to pack Aunt Xue’s things. She went over to the main mansion, to find that, as she had supposed, Li Wan, Tan-chun and the girls had been left on their own. They welcomed her and asked after Xue Pan. They were greatly relieved when she told them that he was out of danger and only waiting for confirmation of his sentence.

  ‘Mother was saying only yesterday,’ said Tan-chun, ‘that she’d always relied on you in the past, Auntie, whenever there was any sort of crisis, to come over and keep an eye on things. But this time she felt she could hardly ask you, as you had enough to cope with. She was rather uneasy about leaving us here on our own, all the same.’

  ‘I’ve been worrying about you myself,’ replied Aunt Xue. ‘But you know how it’s been this last week or two. Your Cousin Ke has been away trying to sort out Pan’s affairs, and really I couldn’t leave Bao-chai on her own, she’d never be able to manage. Especially as Pan’s young wife is so incompetent. What with one thing and another, I simply haven’t been able to get away. The only reason Ke has been able to come home and relieve me now is that the judge in charge of the case is going to be tied up with the Zhou Concubine’s funeral arrangements for a few days’.

  ‘We’d be so pleased if you could stay for a day or two,’ said Li Wan.

  Aunt Xue nodded.

  ‘I should very much like to be here and keep you girls company. The only thing is, I am a little worried that Bao-chai may feel lonely without me.’

  ‘Well why not ask her to come over as well?’ suggested Xi-chun.

  Aunt Xue gave a little laugh.

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t do that.’

  ‘But why not? She used to live here, didn’t she?’

  Li Wan replied for Aunt Xue.

  ‘You don’t understand. It’s not the same now. They’re very busy at present, so she can’t possibly come.’

  Xi-chun supposed that this was the real reason for Bao-chai’s absence, and dropped the matter.

  As they were talking, Grandmother Jia and the rest of the family arrived back from their visit of condolence. When they saw that Aunt Xue was there, preliminary courtesies were dropped for once and everyone wanted to know the latest in the Pan affair. Aunt Xue told them the whole story. Bao-yu was present, and pricked up his ears when he heard Jiang Yu-han’s name mentioned. Although he thought it inadvisable to show much interest in front of the others, secretly he asked himself why his old actor-friend had not been to look him up, if he was back in town. Then, noticing that Bao-chai had not accompanied her mother, and trying to imagine what could be keeping her at home, he began to drift into one of his brown studies, and was only aroused and restored to a more cheerful frame of mind by the unexpected arrival of Dai-yu. He stayed for dinner with the others at Grandmother Jia’s. After dinner everyone retired to their respective apartments, except for Aunt Xue, who stayed the night in Grandmother Jia’s guest-room.

  Bao-yu returned to Green Delights, and was divesting himself of his going-out clothes, when suddenly he remembered the cummerbund Jiang Yu-han had once given him as a first-meeting present.

  ‘Do you remember that crimson cummerbund I gave you?’ he asked Aroma. ‘The one you wouldn’t wear? Have you still got it?’

  ‘I’ve put it away somewhere. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Oh, I just wondered.’

  ‘Didn’t you hear what terrible trouble Mr Pan got into, all because he made friends with such riffraff! Will you never learn? Haven’t you more sense than to go bringing up a thing like that? Instead of filling your head with such stuff, what you should be doing is quietly concentrating on your studies.’

  ‘Oh for goodness’ sake! I’m not the one that’s got into trouble! I just happened to think of it, that’s all. I couldn’t care less whether you’ve still got it or not. If I’d known you were going to start giving me a lecture…’

  Aroma smiled.

  ‘I’m not giving you a lecture. It’s just that you know what people say about actors. Now that you’re studying the classics and learning all the proper rules of behaviour, you should try to conform and get on in the world. When your sweetheart comes along, surely you’ll want to make a good impression then?’

  ‘Goodness!’ exclaimed Bao-yu, aroused by the mention of the word sweetheart, ‘that reminds me! There was such a crowd at Grannie’s, I didn’t have a chance to speak to Cousin Lin, and she didn’t speak to me either. She left before I di
d, so she’s probably home by now. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  He was gone.

  ‘Don’t stay too long!’ Aroma called after him. ‘Now I’ve done it! I should never have opened my mouth!’

  Bao-yu did not reply, but made his way directly to the Naiad’s House, head bowed in thought. On arrival there, he found Dai-yu at her table, poring over a book.

  ‘Have you been back long, coz?’ he asked, walking over and standing by her side.

  ‘As you were ignoring me,’ she said, returning his smile, ‘there was little point in my staying…’

  He laughed.

  ‘Everyone was talking at once, and I couldn’t get a word in.’

  Looking down at the page open in front of her, Bao-yu found that he couldn’t understand a single character on it. Some of them seemed familiar, like the characters for Peony and Vast; but on closer inspection he saw that even they had been in some way changed. There was the character for Hook, with a Five inside it, and a Nine and Big on top; and there was a Five next to a Six, with Wood below and another Five at the very bottom. It was all very puzzling.

  ‘You must be very advanced, to be able to decipher this esoteric script!’ he said.

  Dai-yu gave a little ‘chee!’

  ‘Not much of a scholar really are you! Fancy never having seen a Qin tablature before!’

  ‘It’s music! Of course! But why don’t I know any of the characters? Do you know what they mean?’

  ‘No, of course not; that’s why I’m reading it…’

  ‘Do you really? I never knew you could play. Did you know about the Qins hanging on the wall in the main library? There are quite a few. I remember the year before last Father had a friend who was a Qin player – Antiquarian Ji I think he was called. Father asked him to play a piece, but when he tried the instruments he said they were none of them fit to play. He said that if Father really wanted to hear him play, he would come back another day with his own instrument. But he never did. I think he must have decided Father was tone-deaf. Well! So all this time you’ve been hiding your light under a bushel!’