by Kim Man-jung
One day, a girl came to the house with two embroidered scrolls for sale. When Ch’un-yün unrolled them, she saw that one showed a peacock among flowers and the other was a partridge in a bamboo grove. Ch’un-yün was impressed by the scrolls, and she asked the girl to wait while she showed them to Ch’iung-pei and her mother. “You always praise my embroidery,” she said to them, “but look at these! They must have come from the hands of a fairy or a ghost!”
Ch’iung-pei looked at the scrolls with her mother, exclaiming, “No one in this world could be so exquisitely skilled! It’s strange—it looks like old traditional work, but the colors and decorative touches are fresh.” She made Ch’un-yün ask the girl where she had gotten the scrolls.
The girl answered, “My mistress did them. She is living away from home and she desperately needs the money, so I am to sell them without quibbling about the price.”
“What is your mistress’s family?” Ch’un-yün asked. “And why is she living away from home?”
The girl said, “My mistress is the sister of Subprefect5 Li. He took their mother with him to his post in Che-tung, but my mistress could not go because she was ill. She had to stay behind at the house of her mother’s brother, Subprefect Chang. But there were problems in the Changs’ household, so she moved to a cosmetics shop across the way, where she is staying in the home of Hsieh San-niang while she waits for a carriage to come from Che-tung to take her home.”
Ch’un-yün went in and told the story to Ch’iung-pei, who gave her a long hairpin and other jewelry—enough to pay for the scrolls, which she hung in the main hall. They admired them all day, praising them until the sun went down. Afterward, the girl who sold the pictures visited the Chengs’ household frequently and became friendly with the servants.
“If Miss Li’s embroidery is this good, she must be an extraordinary person,” Ch’iung-pei said to Ch’un-yün. “I will send one of the maids to follow that girl to get a look at her.”
She sent her most clever maid, who followed the girl to a common house, very small, and with no separate quarters for the men and women, just the way the girl had described.
When Miss Li learned that the maid had come from the Chengs’ house, she gave her something good to eat before she sent her back. And upon her return, the maid reported to Ch’un-yün that Miss Li was as beautiful and well-mannered as her own mistress.
But Ch’un-yün was doubtful. “I can see from her embroidery that she is hardly stupid, but why do you make up such a story? I cannot believe there is anyone in the world as beautiful as our mistress.”
The girl replied, “If you do not believe me, then send someone else to confirm that what I said is true.”
So Ch’un-yün secretly sent another girl to the house, and when she returned, she said, “Her beauty is unearthly! What you heard yesterday is true. If you doubt me, go and see for yourself.”
“I don’t believe either of you,” said Ch’un-yün. “Don’t you have eyes to see?” They all had a laugh together.
A few days later, Madame Hsieh from the cosmetics shop came to see Lady Cheng. “A young woman, Subprefect Li’s sister, has been living in my house of late,” she said. “I have never seen such a talented and beautiful girl before. She has heard of your daughter and deeply admires her. She would like to meet her and chat, but she has never been introduced and is too shy to ask. She knows I often come to see you, so she asked me to tell you.”
Ch’iung-pei’s mother immediately called for her and told her. Ch’iung-pei said, “I am fortunate not to want to see anyone, but I’ve heard that her personality is as wonderful as her embroidery, so I would like to meet her.”
Madame Hsieh returned, delighted, and the next day, Miss Li sent a servant ahead to say she was coming. She arrived later, accompanied by several of her maids in a curtained sedan chair.
Ch’iung-pei received her in her bedroom, and they sat, regarding each other, hostess and guest, one facing east and the other west, like the Weaver Girl visiting the Palace of the Moon or Lady Shang Yuan at Jewel Lake. Like mirror images reflecting the other’s beauty and radiance, they were amazed at each other.
Ch’iung-pei spoke first. “I heard from the servants that you’ve been living nearby, and I am sorry I was not able to visit you. And now that you’ve come in person, I don’t know how I can thank you.”
“I am an uneducated person,” said Miss Li. “I lost my father when I was little and my mother doted on me. I never learned anything in my life, and have no talent to speak of. I’ve often regretfully said to myself, ‘A girl is shut up in the inner quarters, seeing no one but her household servants. A boy is free to go where he pleases, make friends, and watch and learn from other boys.’
“I’ve heard that you write as well as Pan Chao, the woman who finished her brother’s writings,6 and your virtue is like that of Meng Kuang, the paragon of womanhood.7 And though you have never ventured out of your house, your reputation is known in the palace. So, not considering my own lack of worthiness, I wanted to come and meet you. And now that you have not denied me, I feel my life’s wish has been fulfilled.”
Ch’iung-pei replied, “What you say is exactly how I feel myself. Confined as I am in the inner quarters, I am in the shadows, not seen by the eyes of others. I have never seen the water in the ocean or the clouds on the mountaintops. I am like the jade of Ching-shan,8 its beauty hidden for fear of vanity, or an old oyster shell that hides the luster of its pearl inside. I know so little, really, that I am ashamed to be so highly praised by you.”
Tea and cakes were brought out, and as they continued to chat, Miss Li asked, “I’ve heard that you have a woman named Chia in your house. Is it possible for me to meet her?”
“I was going to introduce you,” said Ch’iung-pei, and she sent for Ch’un-yün. When Miss Li stood up to greet her as she entered, Ch’un-yün was stunned. “What the maids said the other day is true,” she thought to herself. “Heaven created my mistress and also Miss Li. Its will is truly a mystery.”
Miss Li was also thinking to herself, “I have heard much about this girl, but she is far more beautiful than they say. It is no wonder that Minister Yang loves her. She would be the perfect partner for Lady Ch’in. If she could only meet her! How can Yang be expected to give up either of them when they are both so beautiful and talented?”
As they talked, she told Ch’un-yün what was in her heart, and thus Ch’un-yün could see that her heart was the same as Ch’iung-pei’s. When it was time to go, Miss Li said, “The sun is setting and I am sorry we cannot talk any longer. But my house is only just across the street, and I will come out again when I have a chance and continue our chat.”
“I am glad to have met you and I have enjoyed our talk,” said Ch’iung-pei. “I should come out to see you off, but my situation is not like that of other people, so I dare not take even one step outside the house. I hope you understand and will forgive me.”
When they said good-bye, they could not bear to let go of each other’s hands. After Miss Li finally left, Ch’iung-pei said to Ch’un-yün, “The jeweled sword was hidden in its scabbard, and yet its light shone to the seven stars,9 and though the oyster is buried deep in the bed of the sea, the light of its pearl rises up like a high tower. How strange that we have been living in the same city all this time without being aware of each other.”
“I am suspicious,” said Ch’un-yün. “Minister Yang said he met the daughter of an Inspector Ch’in at a pavilion in Hua-chou and he made a marriage contract with her after exchanging poems.
“But the Ch’in family came to grief and the marriage came to nothing. He said she was beautiful, and the poem she wrote shows she had great talent. I fear she has changed her name and is trying to revive an old relationship by getting close to you.”
“I’ve also heard how beautiful Ch’in’s daughter is,” said Ch’iung-pei. “She must be very much like this woman.
But didn’t Yang say that she became a lady-in-waiting at court after her family was ruined? So how can it be her?” With that, Ch’iung-pei went to see her mother and had nothing but praise for Miss Li.
“Then I must invite her again so I can see her for myself,” said Madame Ts’ui.
* * *
A few days later, Madame Ts’ui sent for Miss Li to come visit her. When Miss Li came over, delighted with the invitation, Madame Ts’ui came out and received her in the front courtyard. Miss Li bowed politely as if she were a niece. This made Madame Ts’ui happy, and she said, “Thank you for coming to visit my daughter the other day. It is very kind of you to be a friend to her. I am truly grateful, and it shames me that I have been ill and was unable to meet you then. I have been regretting it ever since.”
Miss Li bowed on the floor. “I wanted so much to meet your daughter. She is like a fairy, and I was afraid she would refuse me. But when I met her, she treated me like a sister and now you treat me like your own child. It is an undeserved honor and more than I dared to hope for. I will visit you as long as I live and serve you as I would my own mother.”
Madame Ts’ui declared again and again that it was too much. Her daughter and Miss Li sat with her for half the day and then Ch’iung-pei invited Miss Li and Ch’un-yün into her bedroom, where they sat like three legs of an incense burner, laughing and chatting happily, already good friends, discussing ancient and new literature, and the lives of virtuous women, not noticing that the sun was slanting through the west-facing windows.
11
THE TAKING OF CH’IUNG-PEI
After Miss Li left, Madame Ts’ui said to Ch’iung-pei and Ch’un-yün, “Between our families on my husband’s side and mine, we must have a thousand relations, but never in my life until now have I come across a woman as beautiful as Miss Li. She is as beautiful as you, Ch’iung-pei. It would be wonderful if you considered each other sisters.”
Ch’iung-pei recollected what Ch’un-yün had said earlier about the Ch’in girl. “Ch’un-yün said she was suspicious, but I can’t help but disagree. Miss Li is not only beautiful and well-mannered, she has a dignified bearing that sets her apart from women of a common background. The Ch’in girl would not be like that. However, I’ve heard that the princess Lan-yang is beautiful and gracious, and I dare to suspect Miss Li may actually be the princess.”
“I have never seen the princess, so I will not presume to guess,” said her mother. “But she is royalty—of the Emperor’s family. How could we possibly mistake her for Miss Li?”
“When I think of Miss Li, I cannot help but wonder,” said Ch’iung-pei. “I think it makes sense to send Ch’un-yün to find out more about her.”
Ch’iung-pei and Ch’un-yün were still talking about this the next day when Miss Li’s maid came to the house to deliver a message. “My mistress had the good fortune of finding a boat bound for Che-tung. She will be leaving on it tomorrow, and she asks if she may come and say good-bye to you all today.”
Ch’iung-pei had the main room readied and waited for Miss Li. When she arrived to say her good-byes, her affection was so deep it was as if she were an older sister lingering in parting from her younger sister, or even a lover parting with his sweetheart.
Finally, she got up, bowed, and said, “It has already been a whole year since I last saw my mother and my brother. I am so eager to see them my heart flies to them like an arrow. I cannot stay longer, but your ladyship’s kindness and your daughter’s affection have tied me to you with thread that tightens the more you try to loosen it.” She hesitated. “There is a request I would like to make of your daughter, but I am afraid she may not want to grant it, so I am telling you, first.”
“What is it you want to ask her?” Madame Ts’ui asked.
“I have almost finished embroidering an image of the Bodhisattva of Mercy in memory of my dead father. My brother is in Che-tung now and I am a woman, so I cannot ask any other learned man to write a few lines to go with it. Without a proper inscription, the embroidery will have been in vain. This would be such a shame, so I wish your daughter would write something on it for me. It is too big to fold up, and I dared not bring it with me for fear of damaging it. I want to fulfill my filial duties and make our parting less sorrowful, but since I do not know what she will think, I hesitated to ask her directly. That is why I am first confiding in you.”
Madame Ts’ui turned to her daughter and said, “You do not visit even your close relations. But her request is sincere and comes from her devotion to her father. Her house is nearby—it shouldn’t be hard for you to go over for a little while.”
Ch’iung-pei had misgivings at first, but she soon changed her mind. She thought to herself, “She is leaving very soon, so I cannot send Ch’un-yün. I shall take this opportunity to visit her.” To her mother, she said, “If Miss Li’s request was a casual one, I would never do this, but how can anyone not be moved by such filial devotion? I cannot refuse her, but I will go after it is dark.”
Miss Li was very pleased and thanked her. “It will be hard to write after the sun goes down,” she said. “If it’s the crowds in the street that make you anxious, you can ride with me in my palanquin. There is room enough for two, and you could return this evening.”
“That seems reasonable,” said Ch’iung-pei.
Miss Li bowed to Madame Ts’ui, held Ch’un-yün’s hands in good-bye, and got into her palanquin with Ch’iung-pei. They left, followed by several of the Chengs’ maids.
When they were in Miss Li’s bedroom, Ch’iung-pei noticed that though she had few possessions, what she did have was exquisite, and the food served to them was simple but delicious. The more she saw, the more curious she became, and she began to wonder. Miss Li did not seem to be in any hurry to get the inscription, and the sun was going down, so Ch’iung-pei asked, “Where do you keep the portrait of the Bodhisattva? I would like to honor it.”
“I’ll show it to you now,” said Miss Li.
Just as she said this, there was a commotion outside and the street was crowded with flags. A maid from the Cheng house rushed in, terribly anxious, and said, “A company of soldiers has surrounded the house! What are we to do?”
Ch’iung-pei immediately knew that her suspicions had been correct, and she said nothing. It was Miss Li who spoke. “Please do not worry,” she said. “I am none other than Princess Lan-yang, Hsiao-ho. Hsiao-ho is my given name. They have come for me on the orders of the Empress Dowager.”
Ch’iung-pei rose from her seat. “I am just an ignorant commoner and know nothing,” she said. “But I could see that you were of royal blood and not like ordinary people. To be visited by Your Majesty was beyond my wildest dreams, and I did not respect you properly. I fear I have greatly offended you and humbly bow my head to receive the punishment I deserve.”
Before the princess could answer, a servant girl came in to announce the arrival of three court ladies, Hseuh, Wang, and Ho, sent by the Empress Dowager.
“Sister, wait here a while,” the princess said, and she went out into the main hall and sat down on a chair to receive the three women. They came in, and one by one they bowed and prostrated themselves before her.
“It has been several days since Your Highness left the palace,” they said. “Your mother the Empress Dowager is anxious to see you, and the Emperor is concerned about your welfare. You are to return to the palace today. We have come with your royal palanquin and guards to accompany you. They are waiting outside with the eunuch Chao, whom the Emperor has sent to escort you.” They added, “The Empress Dowager has ordered that young Lady Cheng return with you to the palace in your royal palanquin.”
The princess returned to the bedroom and said to Ch’iung-pei, “I will explain everything later when there is time, but the Empress Dowager is waiting to see you, so please do not refuse. Come with me, and we will see her together.”
Ch’iung-pei already knew that
she could not refuse. “I am just a lowly commoner,” she repeated. “I know how much you love me, but I have never been presented at court and I am afraid I will make some terrible mistake in etiquette.”
“My mother wishes to see you for the same reason I love you so dearly,” said the princess. “There is no reason for you to worry.”
Ch’iung-pei replied, “If Your Highness will go first, I will humbly return to my house and inform my elderly mother, then I will follow you right away.”
“Please do not be uncooperative,” said the princess. “The Empress Dowager has made her orders clear and she has already sent the royal palanquin for the two of us to ride together. You must come with me now.”
“But I am a commoner! How could I possibly ride in the same palanquin with Your Highness?”
The princess reassured her. “In the old days, Chang T’ai-kung was fishing in the river Wei at the same time as King Wu. Though Chang was just a lowly fisherman, he rode in the same carriage as the king. Old Hou Ying was just a gatekeeper, but he once held the bridle of Prince Hsin-ling’s horse. Those who are sincere and of good character deserve to be treated with respect regardless of status, so how can I consider myself a more important person? Sister, you are the daughter of a minister from a respected family. Why should you not ride with me?” She took Ch’iung-pei by the hand to the palanquin and they got in together.
Ch’iung-pei sent one of her maids back to her mother to let her know where she was going, and she took the other maid with her to the palace.
The princess and Ch’iung-pei rode together through the east gate until they reached the Chang-hsin-kung, where the Empress Dowager had her quarters. The princess stepped out of the palanquin and instructed Lady Wang, “Wait here for a little while with Lady Cheng.”