by Kim Man-jung
* * *
That night Shao-yu shared his pillow with Princess Ying-yang side by side in his bed. The next morning the Empress Dowager held a banquet in their honor, and she and the Emperor and the Emperor’s concubine spent the whole day celebrating.
The next night, Shao-yu slept under the same quilt as Princess Lan-yang. And on the third night he came into Ts’ai-feng’s room. It made her cry, remembering the old days. Shao-yu said to her in surprise, “Today is a day to be happy. You should not be crying. Please tell me why, whatever the reason.”
“It is because you do not remember me,” she said. “You have forgotten who I am.”
He took her hand, pale as white jade and, looking into her face, he said, “You are the daughter of Inspector Ch’in of Hua-yin. I have not forgotten you even in my dreams.”
She was so choked up, all she could say was, “Prime Minister . . .”
“I thought you were dead,” he said. “But here you are in the palace alive! I am so happy you are here. After we parted at Hua-chou, I could not bear to think of the tragedy that befell your family, and since the time I fled from that place, not a day has gone by when I did not think of you. Today we are fulfilling our old promise, though I had given up hope and you, too, could never have imagined we would be together again like this.”
Then he took her poem—the willow poem—out of his pocket and Ts’ai-feng took out the poem he had written and gave it to him. And they recited them together as they had the day they first composed them.
“This poem was what brought us together,” Ts’ai-feng said. “But do you know how the silk fan has connected us?” She produced a box and opened it, taking out a painted fan. She showed it to him and told him the story behind it.
Shao-yu comforted her, saying, “When I returned from my refuge at Lan-t’ien-shan I asked the innkeeper what had happened to you, whether you had escaped the disaster. But I could find no reliable news about you and I lost hope. When I passed between Hua-shan and the river Wei, I felt like a wild goose without a mate or a fish caught on a hook. Now, thanks to the Emperor’s favor, we are together again, and yet I am still regretful. When we met at the inn you could not have dreamed that one day I would be taking you as my concubine. It embarrasses me that I could not take you as my wife.”
Ts’ai-feng replied, “I knew my fortunes were meager. When I sent my nurse to you at the inn I had already decided that if you were married I would gladly be your concubine. But now I am with the two princesses, and it is my great good fortune to serve them faithfully. If I sigh about my fate now, Heaven will forsake me.”
And that night, awash in nostalgiaand newfound love, their union was more ecstatic than on the previous two.
* * *
The next day, Shao-yu sat with Princess Lan-yang and Princess Ying-yang talking and drinking wine together in Ying-yang’s room.
Princess Ying-yang whispered to a maid and ordered her to invite Ts’ai-feng to join them. But the moment he heard Ying-yang’s voice in that tone, Shao-yu became melancholy, recalling the time he had disguised himself as a woman and gone to Minister Cheng’s house to play the ch’in and listen to Ch’iung-pei’s criticisms. He vividly recalled her face. Now he suddenly realized that Princess Ying-yang spoke like Ch’iung-pei and also looked like her. He thought to himself, “How remarkable that there is someone else in the world who looks like her. When I promised to marry Ch’iung-pei I intended to be with her in life and death, but now I am happily married to two other women. What must her lonely spirit be doing? To avoid jealousy, I have not even looked for her grave or offered a cup of wine or wept there even once. With her heart as fragile as glass, how could I not be distraught?”
Princess Ying-yang adjusted her clothes. “You are holding the glass and it is your turn to drink, but you look sad. What is the matter?”
“I cannot hide my thoughts from you,” said Shao-yu. “I once went to Minister Cheng’s house and saw his daughter. Strange, isn’t it, that your voice and face are so much like hers? That is what made me sad.”
Hearing this, Ying-yang’s cheeks flushed red and she rose and rushed into the inner rooms. When she did not return after a long while, Shao-yu sent a maid to fetch her, but the maid, too, did not return.
“She is the Empress Dowager’s favorite, so she is temperamental, unlike me,” said Lan-yang. “When you compared her to the Cheng girl, I think you broke her heart.”
Shao-yu immediately sent Ts’ai-feng in to apologize for him. “Tell her she may imprison me like Duke Wen of Chin,” he told her.
When Ts’ai-feng returned after some time and was silent, Shao-yu asked, “What did she say?”
Ts’ai-feng answered, “She said, ‘I may not be an important personage, but I am still the Empress Dowager’s favorite daughter, and that Cheng girl may have been wonderful, but she was only a commoner. The Book of Rites says one bows to the king’s horse not for its sake but because the king is riding it. I am the Emperor’s sister.
“‘That Cheng girl didn’t know her place and had no modesty, proud of her looks and gabbing with him about music and rudely criticizing his playing. And I know she got sick and died because she was so peeved about her wedding being called off. What an unlucky person! How could he compare me to someone like her? In the old days, Ch’iu Hu of Lu seduced a girl who was picking mulberries by bribing her with gold and she drowned herself.2 That’s a true story. How can I just sit there and not feel shame when he’s reminiscing about her after she’s dead and tells me how he remembers her voice?3 I am staying in this room now and won’t come out again until I’m dead! Lan-yang can put up with him. Let him live the rest of his life with her!’”
Shao-yu was furious, and in his mind, he thought, “I did not think any woman under Heaven could be so proud of her position. Now I understand what a terrible thing it is to be the husband of a princess.” To Lan-yang, he said, “I had my reasons for the way I talked with Ch’iung-pei, but Ying-yang is accusing me of shameful intentions. It is not important to me, but it is not right for her to be blaming the dead.”
“I will try to calm her down,” said Lan-yang, going into the inner rooms. But even when the sun had set, she did not return, and the candles and lamps had been lit by the time a maid came with a message from her.
I tried my best to convince her, but the princess would not change her mind. And since I made a promise to her that I would spend the rest of my life with her, I must do as she does and shut myself away in some corner of the inner palace. Please enjoy the night with Ts’ai-feng.
At this, Shao-yu’s temper flared, but he restrained himself and did not let it show. The silence was long and the screens looked frigid. He reclined on the bed, gazing at Ts’ai-feng, who took up a candle and guided him into her bedchamber. She put incense into the golden brazier and turned down the silken bedding.
“I am not very learned,” she said. “But I know some manners, and in The Book of Rites, it says, ‘A concubine must not share her master’s bed when his wife is away.’ And since the two princesses have closed themselves up in their inner rooms, I wish you a good night.” And she withdrew.
Shao-yu did not stop her, but his mood was foul. After a while, he went to bed, but he wrestled with his thoughts and he could not sleep. “They have put their heads together and conspired to taunt me,” he thought. “I cannot go down on my knees for them. In the old days I lived in the Chengs’ flower garden drinking with Thirteen by day and playing with Ch’un-yün by night. Not a day was unhappy. And now, after only three days being married, I am thoroughly frustrated!”
He raised his hand and opened the gauze window to see the Milky Way arching across the sky and the courtyard flooded with moonlight. He went out and wandered in the garden until he saw the lights in Princess Ying-yang’s room, the candlelight so bright against the gauze of the windows. “The night is far gone,” he thought. “Why are they not asleep? Ying
-yang was furious and she abandoned me to go to her bedroom.”
Quietly, he walked up to the window. He could hear the two princesses talking and laughing as they played backgammon. He peeped through the blind and saw Ts’ai-feng and another girl sitting in front of the princesses moving the pieces on the board. When the girl turned her body to adjust the candle, Shao-yu was shocked to see that she was Ch’un-yün. “How can this be?” he thought.
Ch’un-yün had come to the palace on the day the princesses were married, but she had hidden herself so that Shao-yu could not see her, and so he had not known she was there. He was surprised, but also suspicious that something was afoot. “The princesses must have brought Ch’un-yün to the palace so they could have a look at her,” he thought.
Now Ts’ai-feng began another kind of game. “It’s no fun unless there’s something at stake,” she said. “So I will make a bet with you, Ch’un-yün.”
“I’m from a poor family, so I would be happy to win a bowl of rice with some vegetables,” said Ch’un-yün. “Whereas you are with the princesses, and thus you have silks and jewels and many other things. I have nothing like that, so why would you want to make a bet with me?”
Ts’ai-feng replied, “If I lose, I will give you any of the jewels or trinkets I am wearing on my girdle, but if I win you must do whatever I ask as a penalty. I will not be too harsh.”
“First I want to know what you will ask of me,” said Ch’un-yün.
“I heard the two princesses talking once about how you pretended to be a fairy and then a ghost to fool Minister Yang, but I never heard all the details, so if you lose you will have to tell me the whole story.”
Ch’un-yün pushed the backgammon board aside, saying, “Sister! You used to love me so much, but now that you have told that story to Ts’ai-feng, who in the palace will not have heard about it? How will I ever show my face?”
“Watch yourself, Ch’un-yün,” said Ts’ai-feng. “How dare you call the princess your sister? She may be young, but her status is high. You should not be calling her sister.”
Ch’un-yün apologized. “My lips have been calling her that for ten years. It is hard to retrain them in one morning. It seems just yesterday that we were fighting with each other while picking flowers, so I am not afraid to call her sister.” She laughed brightly.
Lan-yang asked Ying-yang, “This little sister hasn’t heard all of the story. Did Ch’un-yün really make a fool of him?”
“There’s no smoke in the chimney without a fire,” said Ying-yang. “She only wanted to give him a scare, but he was so smitten he wasn’t even afraid. It’s true what The Book of Rites says—‘The lustful man is a hungry ghost for women.’ He was so hungry for the ghost, why would he be afraid of her?”
This time they all laughed.
Listening to them, Shao-yu finally realized that Princess Ying-yang was Ch’iung-pei. He was surprised and overjoyed, and he was just about to open the door and burst into the room when he changed his mind. “They fooled me,” he said to himself instead. “So I shall have to make fools of them.” And he went back to Ts’ai-feng’s room, quietly opened the door, and went to bed.
The next morning, Ts’ai-feng came early and asked the maid, “Is the master up?”
“Not yet,” the maid replied.
Ts’ai-feng waited outside for a long while. From time to time she could hear him groaning and moaning inside, but even by breakfast time, Shao-yu had not gotten up. Finally, she opened the door and went in.
“Are you not feeling well?” she asked.
He stared at her with open eyes but did not seem to recognize her, and he mumbled incoherently, as if he were talking in his sleep.
“Are you having a dream?” she asked.
He looked like he might be in a trance. “Who are you?” he asked suddenly.
“Don’t you recognize me?” she said. “I’m Ts’ai-feng.”
He only nodded his head, whispering, “Ts’ai-feng. Ts’ai-feng. Who is she?”
Ts’ai-feng became greatly concerned and put a hand to his forehead. “You have a fever,” she said. “How did you get so sick overnight?”
Now he opened his eyes as if he were coming to his senses. “Ch’iung-pei has been tormenting me all night,” he said. “What shall I do?”
When she asked him to explain, he simply turned over and went back to sleep. Ts’ai-feng was terribly upset. She sent a maid with a message to the princesses telling them that he was sick and they should come at once.
“He was drinking last night,” said Princess Ying-yang. “He isn’t sick. It’s just a ploy to make us to come to him.”
So Ts’ai-feng went to the princesses herself and said, “He is in a daze and he does not recognize anyone. He turned over to face the dark and he seemed delirious. Tell His Majesty to send for a doctor.”
When the Empress Dowager heard, she summoned the princesses and reprimanded them. “You have taken this too far. You hear he is sick and yet do not go to see him? Go look in on him at once, and if he is actually ill, call the court physician.”
So they went to his bedroom, and Princess Ying-yang let Lan-yang and Ts’ai-feng go in first. Shao-yu clawed at the air, staring wide-eyed, unable to understand what Lan-yang said to him. Eventually, he said in a whisper, “I have not long to live. I want to say good-bye to Ying-yang. Where is she?”
Princess Lan-yang said, “Please—do not say such things. Why are you speaking like that?”
“Last night I had a dream and yet it was not a dream,” said Shao-yu. “Ch’iung-pei appeared to me and said, ‘How could you forget our promise?’ And she gave me a handful of pearls, which are a terrible omen. Now, when I close my eyes she presses down on my body and when I open them she is standing before me. How can I continue living?” Before he had even finished speaking, he made a strange expression and turned his face to the wall again, mumbling.
Lan-yang was very upset to see this and went out to Ying-yang. “The prime minister’s symptoms are not normal,” she said. “There is no doctor skilled enough to cure him—you are the only one who can help.” She described his condition, but Ying-yang, still half-suspicious, was hesitant. Lan-yang took her by the hand into the bedroom.
“My lord,” said Lan-yang. “Ying-yang is here. Please open your eyes and look at her.”
Shao-yu lifted his head momentarily and opened his eyes. He struggled to get up until Ts’ai-feng finally helped him, and then he sat up in bed facing the two princesses. He sighed. “I have received the Emperor’s special favor and married you two princesses to live happily together for a hundred years. But there is someone coming to take me, and it makes me sad that I cannot live much longer in this world.”
“How can a learned and rational man like you speak such nonsense?” demanded Ying-yang. “Even if Ch’iung-pei’s hungry ghost is lingering, the gods of Heaven and Earth watch over the palace. She could never get in. How could she come near my lord’s precious body?”
“She’s here—right beside me!” Shao-yu shouted. “What do you mean she can’t get in?”
“In ancient times there was a man who drank a snake that was in his wine cup and got sick. But then he saw a bow hanging on the wall reflected in his wine cup and it looked like a snake. When he realized the snake he’d drunk was only the reflection of the bow, he got better. That is what your sickness is like. I’m sure you will get better.”
Shao-yu just closed his eyes and waved her off. Princess Ying-yang could see then that this was no ordinary sickness. “You are only thinking of Ch’iung-pei as dead,” she said. “Don’t you want to see the living Ch’iung-pei? Here I am. It’s me.”
Shao-yu pretended he did not understand. “What are you saying? Why are you saying this? Minister Cheng had only one daughter, and she is dead! Her ghost is with me now so how can she be alive? The dead are dead and the living are living. There is no shame
in death and the dead do not come back to life. I cannot trust what you say.”
“The Empress Dowager adopted Ch’iung-pei as her daughter and gave her the name Ying-yang before the two of us were married to you,” said Lan-yang. “But Princess Ying-yang is the one who listened to you playing the ch’in. She is Ch’iung-pei! How else could she look exactly like her?”
Shao-yu did not answer. He groaned and raised up his head, gasping for breath. “When I lived at the Chengs’ house, Ch’iung-pei’s maid Ch’un-yün took care of me. So I ask you now, where is she? I long to see her, but it is not possible and I am full of regret.”
“Ch’un-yün is here in the palace,” said Lan-yang. “She came to see Ying-yang.”
Just then, Ch’un-yün came into the room, asking, “My lord, what is the matter?”
“All of you get out!” Shao-yu commanded. “Ch’un-yün, you stay in the room with me. I have something to ask you.”
The two princesses and Ts’ai-feng went and stood outside at the railing in the hall. Shao-yu got up, washed his face, tidied himself, and dressed with Ch’un-yün’s assistance, and when he was properly attired, he told Ch’un-yün to bring the others back in.
She went out, smiling, and told them, “He says you are invited back in.” And so the four of them went back inside.
Shao-yu, wearing his white cap and robe of silver and gold, was sitting in his chair holding the white jade rod that was the symbol of his official rank. His face was fresh as spring, with not a trace of his illness.
Ying-yang smiled, realizing she had been fooled, and did not ask about his condition, but Lan-yang bowed and inquired, “Are you feeling better now?”
“I have been witness to outrageous behavior,” Shao-yu said solemnly. “Women trying to fool their lord by the guile of their beauty. What happened to all the proper and well-mannered women of virtue?”