The Crab-Flower Club

by Cao Xueqin

  Crimson was still in full spate when Li Wan interrupted her with a laugh:

  ‘What an extraordinary number of “ladies”! I hope you can understand what it’s all about, Feng. I’m sure I can’t! ’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Xi-feng. ‘There are four or five different households involved in that message.’ She smiled graciously at Crimson. ‘You’re a clever girl, my dear, to have got it all right – not like the simpering little ninnies I usually have to put up with. You have no idea, cousin,’ she said, turning to Li Wan again. ‘Apart from the one or two girls and one or two older women that I always keep about me, I just dread talking to servants nowadays. They take such an interminable time to tell you anything – so long-winded! And the airs and graces they give themselves! and the simpering! and the um-ing and ah-ing! If they only knew how it makes me fume! Our Patience used to be like that when she first came to me. I used to say to her, “Do you think it makes you seem glamorous, all that affected humming? – like a little gnat!” I had to talk to her several times about it before she would mend her ways.’

  Li Wan laughed.

  ‘I suppose if they were all peppercorns like you, it would be all right.’

  ‘This girl’s all right,’ said Xi-feng. ‘Those two messages she gave me just now may not have been very long ones, but you could see how clear-cut her delivery of them was.’

  She smiled at Crimson again.

  ‘How would you like to come and work for me and be my god-daughter? With a little grooming from me you could go far.’

  Crimson suppressed a giggle.

  ‘Why do you laugh?’ said Xi-feng. ‘I suppose you think I’m too young to be your god-mother. You’re very silly if you think that. You just ask around a bit: there are plenty much older than you who’d give their ears to be my god-daughter. What I’m offering you is a very special favour.’

  Crimson smiled.

  ‘I wasn’t laughing because of that, madam. I was laughing because you had got the generation wrong. My mother is your god-daughter already. If you made me your god-daughter too, I should be my own mother’s sister!’

  ‘Who is your mother?’ said Xi-feng.

  ‘Do you mean to say that you don’t know who this girl is that you’ve been talking to all this time?’ said Li Wan. ‘This is Lin Zhi-xiao’s daughter.’

  Xi-feng registered surprise:

  ‘You mean to tell me that this is the Lins’ daughter?’ She laughed. ‘That couple of old sticks? I can never get a peep out of either of them. I’ve always maintained that Lin Zhi-xiao and his wife were the perfect match: one hears nothing and the other says nothing. Well! To think they should have produced a bright little thing like this between them! – How old are you?’ she asked Crimson.

  ‘Sixteen.’

  ‘And what’s your name?’

  ‘ “Crimson”, madam. I used to be called “Jade”, but they made me change it on account of Master Bao.’

  Xi-feng looked away with a frown of displeasure.

  ‘I should think so too,’ she muttered. ‘Odious people! One can hear them saying it: “We’ve got a ‘Jade’ in our family the same as you”, or some such impertinence.’

  She turning to Li Wan again:

  ‘I don’t think you know, Wan, but I told this girl’s mother that as Lai Da’s wife is so busy nowadays that she doesn’t even know who half the girls in the household are any longer, I wanted her to pick out a couple of likely-looking girls to work under me. Now she promised that she would do this; but you see, not only has she not done so, but she’s actually gone and sent her own daughter to work for someone else. Do you suppose she really thinks her girl would have had such a terrible time with me?’

  ‘Don’t be so touchy,’ said Li Wan. ‘Her mother is not to blame. The girl had already started service in the Garden before you ever spoke to her about it.’

  ‘Oh well, in that case,’ said Xi-feng, recovering her good humour, ‘I’ll have a word with Bao-yu about it tomorrow. I’ll tell him to find someone else and let me have this girl to work under me. Still –’ she turned to Crimson, ‘perhaps we ought to ask the party most concerned if she is willing.’

  Crimson smiled.

  ‘As to being willing or not, madam, I don’t think it’s my place to say. But I do know this: that if I was to work for you, I should get to know what’s what and all the inside and outside of household management. I’m sure it would be wonderful experience.’

  Just then a maid arrived from Lady Wang’s asking for Xi-feng, who promptly excused herself to Li Wan and left. Crimson returned to Green Delights – where our story now leaves her.

  We now return to Dai-yu, who, having slept so little the night before, was very late getting up on the morning of the festival. Hearing that the other girls were all out in the garden ‘speeding the fairies’ and fearing to be teased by them for her lazy habits, she hurried over her toilet and went out as soon as it was completed. A smiling Bao-yu appeared in the gateway as she was stepping down into the courtyard.

  ‘Well, coz,’ he said, ‘I hope you didn’t tell on me yesterday. You had me worrying about it all last night.’

  Dai-yu turned back, ignoring him, to address Nightingale inside:

  ‘When you do the room, leave one of the casements open so that the parent swallows can get in. And put the lion doorstop on the bottom of the blind to stop it flapping. And don’t forget to put the cover back on the burner after you’ve lighted the incense.’

  She made her way across the courtyard, still ignoring him.

  Bao-yu, who knew nothing of the little drama that had taken place outside his gate the night before, assumed that she was still angry about his unfortunate lapse earlier on that same day, when he had offended her susceptibilities with a somewhat risqué quotation from The Western Chamber. He offered her now, with energetic bowing and hand-pumping, the apologies that the previous day’s emergency had caused him to neglect. But Dai-yu walked straight past him and out of the gate, not deigning so much as a glance in his direction, and stalked off in search of the others.

  Bao-yu was nonplussed. He began to suspect that something more than he had first imagined must be wrong.

  ‘Surely it can’t only be because of yesterday lunchtime that she’s carrying on in this fashion? There must be something else. On the other hand, I didn’t get back until late and I didn’t see her again last night, so how could I have offended her?’

  Preoccupied with these reflections, he followed her at some distance behind.

  Not far ahead Bao-chai and Tan-chun were watching the ungainly courtship dance of some storks. When they saw Dai-yu coming, they invited her to join them, and the three girls stood together and chatted. Then Bao-yu arrived. Tan-chun greeted him with sisterly concern:

  ‘How have you been keeping, Bao? It’s three whole days since I saw you last.’

  Bao-yu smiled back at her.

  ‘How have you been keeping, sis? I was asking Cousin Wan about you the day before yesterday.’

  ‘Come over here a minute,’ said Tan-chun. ‘I want to talk to you.’

  He followed her into the shade of a pomegranate tree a little way apart from the other two.

  ‘Has Father asked to see you at all during this last day or two?’ Tan-chun began.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I thought I heard someone say yesterday that he had been asking for you.’

  ‘No,’ said Bao-yu, smiling at her concern. ‘Whoever it was was mistaken. He certainly hasn’t asked for me.’

  Tan-chun smiled and changed the subject.

  ‘During the past few months,’ she said, ‘I’ve managed to save up another ten strings or so of cash. I’d like you to take it again like you did last time, and next time you go out, if you see a nice painting or calligraphic scroll or some amusing little thing that would do for my room, I’d like you to buy it for me.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Bao-yu. ‘In the trips I make to bazaars and temple fairs, whether it’s insi
de the city or round about, I can’t say that I ever see anything really nice or out of the ordinary. It’s all bronzes and jades and porcelain and that sort of stuff. Apart from that it’s mostly dress-making materials and clothes and things to eat.’

  ‘Now what would I want things like that for?’ said Tan-chun. ‘No, I mean something like that little wickerwork basket you bought me last time, or the little box carved out of bamboo root, or the little clay burner. I thought they were sweet. Unfortunately the others took such a fancy to them that they carried them off as loot and wouldn’t give them back to me again.’

  ‘Oh, if those are the sort of things you want,’ said Bao-yu laughing, ‘it’s very simple. Just give a few strings of cash to one of the boys and he’ll bring you back a whole cartload of them.’

  ‘What do the boys know about it?’ said Tan-chun. ‘I need someone who can pick out the interesting things and the ones that are in good taste. You get me lots of nice little things, and I’ll embroider a pair of slippers for you like the ones I made for you last time – only this time I’ll do them more carefully.’

  ‘Talking of those slippers reminds me,’ said Bao-yu. ‘I happened to run into Father once when I was wearing them. He was Most Displeased. When he asked me who made them, I naturally didn’t dare to tell him that you had, so I said that Aunt Wang had given them to me as a birthday present a few days before. There wasn’t much he could do about it when he heard that they came from Aunt Wang; so after a very long pause he just said, “What a pointless waste of human effort and valuable material, to produce things like that!” I told this to Aroma when I got back, and she said, “Oh, that’s nothing! You should have heard your Aunt Zhao complaining about those slippers. She was furious when she heard about them: ‘Her own natural brother so down at heel he scarcely dares show his face to people, and she spends her time making things like that!’ ” ’

  Tan-chun’s smile had vanished:

  ‘How can she talk such nonsense? Why should I be the one to make shoes for him? Huan gets a clothing allowance, doesn’t he? He gets his clothing and footwear provided for the same as all the rest of us. And fancy saying a thing like that in front of a roomful of servants! For whose benefit was this remark made, I wonder? I make an occasional pair of slippers just for something to do in my spare time; and if I give a pair to someone I particularly like, that’s my own affair. Surely no one else has any business to start telling me who I should give them to? Oh, she’s so petty!’

  Bao-yu shook his head:

  ‘Perhaps you’re being a bit hard on her. She’s probably got her reasons.’

  This made Tan-chun really angry. Her chin went up defiantly:

  ‘Now you’re being as stupid as her. Of course she’s got her reasons; but they are ignorant, stupid reasons. But she can think what she likes: as far as I am concerned, Sir Jia is my father and Lady Wang is my mother, and who was born in whose room doesn’t interest me – the way I choose my friends inside the family has nothing to do with that. Oh, I know I shouldn’t talk about her like this; but she is so idiotic about these things. As a matter of fact I can give you an even better example than your story of the slippers. That last time I gave you my savings to get something for me, she saw me a few days afterwards and started telling me how short of money she was and how difficult things were for her. I took no notice, of course. But later, when the maids were out of the room, she began attacking me for giving the money I’d saved to other people instead of giving it to Huan. Really! I didn’t know whether to laugh or get angry with her. In the end I just walked out of the room and went round to see Mother.’

  There was an amused interruption at this point from Bao-chai, who was still standing where they had left her a few minutes before:

  ‘Do finish your talking and come back soon! It’s easy to see that you two are brother and sister. As soon as you see each other, you get into a huddle and start talking about family secrets. Would it really be such a disaster if anything you are saying were to be overheard?’

  Tan-chun and Bao-yu rejoined her, laughing.

  Not seeing Dai-yu, Bao-yu realized that she must have slipped off elsewhere while he was talking.

  ‘Better leave it a day or two,’ he told himself on reflection. ‘Wait until her anger has calmed down a bit.’

  While he was looking downwards and meditating, he noticed that the ground where they were standing was carpeted with a bright profusion of wind-blown flowers – pomegranate and balsam for the most part.

  ‘You can see she’s upset,’ he thought ruefully. ‘She’s neglecting her flowers. I’ll bury this lot for her and remind her about it next time I see her.’

  He became aware that Bao-chai was arranging for him and Tan-chun to go with her outside.

  ‘I’ll join you two presently,’ he said, and waited until they were a little way off before stooping down to gather the fallen blossoms into the skirt of his gown. It was quite a way from where he was to the place where Dai-yu had buried the peach-blossom on that previous occasion, but he made his way towards it, over rocks and bridges and through plantations of trees and flowers. When he had almost reached his destination and there was only the spur of a miniature ‘mountain’ between him and the burial-place of the flowers, he heard the sound of a voice, coming from the other side of the rock, whose continuous, gentle chiding was occasionally broken by the most pitiable and heart-rending sobs.

  ‘It must be a maid from one of the apartments,’ thought Bao-yu. ‘Someone has been ill-treating her, and she has run here to cry on her own.’

  He stood still and endeavoured to catch what the weeping girl was saying. She appeared to be reciting something:

  The blossoms fade and falling fill the air,

  Of fragrance and bright hues bereft and bare.

  Floss drifts and flutters round the Maiden’s bower,

  Or softly strikes against her curtained door.

  The Maid, grieved by these signs of spring’s decease,

  Seeking some means her sorrow to express,

  Has rake in hand into the garden gone,

  Before the fallen flowers are trampled on.

  Elm-pods and willow-floss are fragrant too;

  Why care, Maid, where the fallen flowers blew?

  Next year, when peach and plum-tree bloom again,

  Which of your sweet companions will remain?

  This spring the heartless swallow built his nest

  Beneath the eaves of mud with flowers compressed.

  Next year the flowers will blossom as before,

  But swallow, nest, and Maid will be no more.

  Three hundred and three-score the year’s full tale:

  From swords of frost and from the slaughtering gale

  How can the lovely flowers long stay intact,

  Or, once loosed, from their drifting fate draw back?

  Blooming so steadfast, fallen so hard to find!

  Beside the flowers’ grave, with sorrowing mind,

  The solitary Maid sheds many a tear,

  Which on the boughs as bloody drops appear.

  At twilight, when the cuckoo sings no more,

  The Maiden with her rake goes in at door

  And lays her down between the lamplit walls,

  While a chill rain against the window falls.

  I know not why my heart’s so strangely sad,

  Half grieving for the spring and yet half glad:

  Glad that it came, grieved it so soon was spent.

  So soft it came, so silently it went!

  Last night, outside, a mournful sound was heard:

  The spirits of the flowers and of the bird.

  But neither bird nor flowers would long delay,

  Bird lacking speech, and flowers too shy to stay.

  And then I wished that I had wings to fly

  After the drifting flowers across the sky:

  Across the sky to the world’s farthest end,

  The flowers’ last fragrant resting-place to find.


  But better their remains in silk to lay

  And bury underneath the wholesome clay,

  Pure substances the pure earth to enrich,

  Than leave to soak and stink in some foul ditch.

  Can I, that these flowers’ obsequies attend,

  Divine how soon or late my life will end?

  Let others laugh flower-burial to see:

  Another year who will be burying me?

  As petals drop and spring begins to fail,

  The bloom of youth, too, sickens and turns pale.

  One day, when spring has gone and youth has fled.

  The Maiden and the flowers will both be dead.

  All this was uttered in a voice half-choked with sobs; for the words recited seemed only to inflame the grief of the reciter – indeed, Bao-yu, listening on the other side of the rock, was so overcome by them that he had already flung himself weeping upon the ground.

  But the sequel to this painful scene will be told in the following chapter.

  Chapter 28

  A crimson cummerbund becomes a pledge of friendship

  And a chaplet of medicine-beads becomes a source of embarrassment

  ON the night before the festival, it may be remembered, Lin Dai-yu had mistakenly supposed Bao-yu responsible for Skybright’s refusal to open the gate for her. The ceremonial farewell to the flowers of the following morning had transformed her pent-up and still smouldering resentment into a more generalized and seasonable sorrow. This had finally found its expression in a violent outburst of grief as she was burying the latest collection of fallen blossoms in her flower-grave. Meditation on the fate of flowers had led her to a contemplation of her own sad and orphaned lot; she had burst into tears, and soon after had begun a recitation of the poem whose words we recorded in the preceding chapter.

  Unknown to her, Bao-yu was listening to this recitation from the slope of the near-by rockery. At first he merely nodded and sighed sympathetically; but when he heard the words