“By your Honor’s leave,” said Wu Song, “I owe my victory over the tiger more to good fortune than to ability. I have no right to this reward. The hunters here have incurred your Honor’s displeasure on account of this same brute, and I shall be grateful if you will give them the silver rather than myself.”
“I will do so if you wish it,” said the magistrate, and the money was distributed among the hunters. Seeing that Wu Song was generous-hearted and honest as well as a hero, he thought it would be a good idea to offer him a position. “You are a native of Yanggu,” he said; “but that is not a great distance from here. I should like to offer you the appointment of captain of my police, and entrust to you the task of sweeping out the brigands that infest the neighborhood. What do you say?”
Wu Song knelt down. “I shall be eternally grateful to your Honor.” The magistrate called his secretary, told him to prepare the necessary papers, and they were sent forward the same day. The notabilities of the district all came to offer their congratulations, and there was feasting for several days.
So Wu Song, who had only thought of his desire to see his elder brother, secured the appointment of police captain in Qinghe. He was delighted with the way things had turned out, and in all the prefecture of Dongping there was none who did not know the name of Wu Song.
A hero this! A mighty hunter
Who climbed the Jingyang Ridge with eager tread.
With strong wine firing his veins he slew the terror of the mountain
And now his fame is spread to every corner of the earth.
One day, as Wu Song was strolling along the street, he heard a voice behind him, crying: “Brother, Brother! Are you too proud to know me, now that you have become captain of the police?” He turned, and to his surprise, recognized the speaker. It was his brother Wu Da, the very man he had been hoping so long to meet. During a period of severe famine the brothers had been compelled to separate. Wu Da had moved to Qinghe and taken a house in Amethyst Street. He was a simple-minded man, not impressive in appearance. In fact people called him sometimes Tom Thumb and sometimes Old Scraggy Bark. (This was because his body was deformed and his face pinched.) The poor man was neither very strong nor very intelligent, so he became a constant butt for the wits of the neighborhood.
Wu Da had no established business, but scraped together a living by hawking baskets of cakes. His wife had died, leaving him with a little daughter, Ying’er, who was now about twelve years old. They lived alone together for some months, and then Wu Da fell into low water and removed to the house of a rich man named Zhang who lived in the High Street. Here he obtained a lodging of a single room. Zhang’s people found him a very honest fellow, and they did their best for him, and started him off selling cakes. When they had time to spare, they used to go to his little place, and he was very attentive to them. They all liked him and spoke well of him to their master, and he, in consequence, did not worry Wu Da for his rent.
This rich man Zhang was more than sixty years old. He was wealthy and prosperous, but he had no children. His wife, a daughter of Master Yu, managed his household with a rod of iron, and he had no pretty maids to amuse him. He was always beating his breast, sighing and lamenting: “Here I am, aged and childless, and though perhaps I am not exactly poor, what use is all my wealth to me?”
“If you feel like that about it,” his wife said one day, “I will tell the go-between to buy a couple of girls for you. They can study, morning and night, and learn how to play and sing for your entertainment, and then perhaps you will feel better.”
At this, the rich man was delighted, and thanked his wife again and again. Before long, she redeemed her promise, sent for the go-between, and the two girls were bought. One, surnamed Pan, was called Jinlian, and the other, whose surname was Bai, was called Yulian. Yulian was about sixteen years old, and had been born in a bawdy house. She was fair, clear-skinned, dainty, and intelligent. Jinlian was the daughter of a certain Pan Cai who lived outside the South Gate. She was his sixth child, and had been given her name because she was very beautiful even as a child. Her tightly bound feet were particularly charming. When her father died, her mother had been entirely without resources, and when she was only nine years old, she was sold to General Wang. In his house, she learned to play and sing, and, in her spare time, to read and write also. She was clever and industrious, and before she was twelve years old acquired a host of accomplishments. She learned, for example, how to darken her eyes, powder her face, and rouge her lips, and she could play more than one musical instrument. Her needlework had not been neglected and she could read the characters in books. With her hair dressed in a braid, and wearing a simple gown, she made a very pretty picture.
When Jinlian was fifteen years old, General Wang died, and her mother sold her to Master Zhang for thirty taels of silver. She and Yulian were both given music lessons, but since she had had some previous experience, she did not find them very difficult. It was decided that she should play the lute and Yulian the zither. They shared the same room.
When the two girls first came to the house, their mistress was very kind and gave them gold and silver ornaments to make them look pretty. Then Yulian died, and Jinlian was left alone. By this time she was eighteen years old and as beautiful as a peach flower. Her eyebrows were arched like the crescent moon. Many times Master Zhang hungered for a closer acquaintance, but, under the austere eye of his wife, no opportunity was forthcoming. One day, however, when the mistress of the house had gone to take wine with one of her neighbors, the rich man secretly summoned her to his room, and had his way with her.
Unhappily, after he had thus disported himself with Jinlian, all sorts of troubles came upon him. His nose ran, tears streamed from his eyes, and he could not hear. He had severe pains in the loins, and difficulty in making water. He had not long suffered from these complaints before his lady got to know his secret. She upbraided him for several days, and devised all manner of punishment for Jinlian. Master Zhang, though he knew he was doing something he ought not, secretly provided the girl with a trousseau, and looked about for a suitable man to whom to marry her. Everybody said, “Wu Da is a widower and a very honest fellow,” and it occurred to him that no one could be more desirable, for Wu Da lived in the same house, and there would be no need for him to lose sight of the young lady. So he married the girl to Wu Da without asking for anything in return. The marriage once celebrated, Zhang heaped kindnesses upon the bridegroom. If he needed money for the ingredients with which to make his buns, the rich man provided it, and when Wu Da went out with his baskets, the rich man, after making sure that there was no one about, would go to console Jinlian in her loneliness.
Wu Da could not help seeing that Zhang treated his wife as though she belonged to him, but he was not in a position to object. Master Zhang came in the morning and stayed until evening, until one day he was overcome by exhaustion and died on the spot. His wife had not been blind to all that was going on, and now, in a rage, she told her servants to turn Wu Da and his wife into the street. The poor man went to Amethyst Street, and there rented a couple of rooms in a nobleman’s house, and continued to sell his cakes.
It did not take Jinlian very long to discover that her husband was not much of a man. He was by no means a model of manly vigor, and she came to hate him with an intense hatred. Never a day passed but she found some quarrel to pick with him, and she even cursed Master Zhang. “There is no lack of men in the world,” said she. “Why should he have married me to a thing like this? It is always the same. Drive him as hard as I will, he never does a stroke of work, and if I try to push him forward, he only goes backward. No matter how busy the day, he malingers and will not touch his tools. I must have been a great sinner in my last existence to have been doomed to marry such a creature as this. My life is wretched indeed.” And when she was quite alone, she sang this song :
This was an ill-made match.
A man I thought him; now I know that he is no true man.
I would
not boast, but it is plain
The crow can ne’er be mated with the phoenix.
I am as gold deep buried in the ground
And he a lump of common brass
Who may not hope to stand beside my golden glory.
He is nothing but stupid clay.
Shall my jade body, lying in his arms, thrill him with ecstasy
As from a dunghill the dainty sesame springs?
How can I pass my days with him forever?
How can I suffer him so long as life shall last?
I, that am purest gold, can never rest upon a bed so vile.
Women, my dear readers, are all very much the same. If a girl is pretty and intelligent, all goes well so long as she marries a fine specimen of a man. But if her husband turns out a simple-minded sort of fellow like Wu Da, it does not matter how virtuous she may be, some degree of hatred will sooner or later affect her attitude to him. And we must remember that seldom do beautiful maidens succeed in finding handsome husbands. The man who has gold to sell never seems to meet the man who wishes to buy.
Every day, Wu Da took his baskets and went out to sell his cakes, returning only at sunset, and when the woman had rid herself of him, she used to sit beneath the blind, chewing melon seeds and pushing forward her tiny feet in the hope of attracting the attention of some young ne’er-do-well. And, indeed, there was a constant stream of courtiers before the gate, who spoke in riddles and called out such remarks as:
“What a pity that such a tasty piece of lamb should fall into a dog’s mouth!” They poured out smooth words like oil, till Wu Da came to the conclusion that Amethyst Street was no place to live, and decided to remove elsewhere. But when he talked to his wife about the matter, she cried, “You low creature, you are nothing but a fool. You take a wretched little place like this, and of course dishonorable fellows come and say whatever they think fit. The best thing you can do is to scrape together a few taels, find a decent house, and take a couple of rooms in it. Then perhaps we can live more respectably, and people will cease to treat us like dirt.”
“Where am I to get the money from to take a house?” Wu Da said.
“You are not a baby, you lump of mud! Why can’t you? Are you going to allow your wife to be continually insulted in this way? If you have no money, take my hair ornaments and sell them, then buy a house with the proceeds. We can buy them back again sometime if we wish to.”
Wu Da succeeded in getting together ten taels of silver, and took a place not very far from the Town Hall. It had four rooms on two floors, and there were two small courtyards. The whole place was very clean. When they had taken up their abode in West Street, he still continued to make a living by selling cakes.
Now, unexpectedly, he had come across his younger brother, and their hearts overflowed with joy. Wu Da at once invited his brother to go home with him, and took him upstairs to sit down. Then he called Jinlian to come and see Wu Song. “You remember,” he said, “the man who killed the tiger on Jingyang hill. He is none other than your brother, the son of the same mother as myself. He has just been appointed captain of police.”
Jinlian made a reverence to her brother-in-law, and Wu Song knelt down to return her greeting. She would not allow this, and made him stand up, saying that such condescension on his part would embarrass her beyond measure. Wu Song, however, persisted, and for some time they carried on a polite dispute, until at last they both knelt and kowtowed down to one another. Soon afterwards, the little Ying’er brought tea for the two men. Wu Song, realizing the seductive charm of his sister-in-law, modestly refrained from looking at her. Wu Da, who was anxious to offer his brother some entertainment, went downstairs to buy some wine and refreshments, and left his wife alone with Wu Song in the upper room.
Jinlian admired his manly qualities and the nobility of his bearing, remembering how he had killed the tiger, and thinking what immeasurable vigor he must have. She said to herself: “These two men are both the sons of one mother; why should my husband’s body be so ill-shapen that he seems more like a ghost than a man? In which of my former lives did I so misbehave that I should be doomed to marry an object like him? Wu Song is strong and lusty. Why should I not invite him to make his home with us? He seems the very man for me.” She smiled sweetly, and said, “Where are you living, Uncle? Who looks after you?”
“I have just been appointed captain of the police,” Wu Song said, “and, as I have to be ready for duty at all times, I live near the Town Hall. Two soldiers wait upon me and cook for me.”
“Why not come and live here?” the woman said. “It would be much pleasanter for you than living near the Town Hall with only those nasty dirty soldiers to look after you. If you come and live with us, you will find it much more convenient and, any time you want any little thing to eat or drink, I shall be only too glad to prepare it for you myself and it will be perfectly clean.”
“It is very good of you to suggest it,” said Wu Song.
“Perhaps your wife is living somewhere in the neighborhood,” Jinlian said delicately. “I hope you will ask me to call on her.”
“I have never married,” said Wu Song.
Then Jinlian inquired politely how old he was, and when he told her he was twenty-eight, she remarked that he was three years older than herself. Finally, she asked where he had been living.
“I have been at Cangzhou for more than a year. I didn’t know my brother had moved here, but thought he still lived at the old place.”
“Ah,” Jinlian said, “that is a long story. We had to come here because, ever since I married your brother, people have taken advantage of his excessive meekness and never ceased to insult us. If only he were as strong as you, Uncle, no one would dare to answer him back.”
“My brother has always been a good steady fellow,” said Wu Song, “not a good-for-nothing like me.”
“Don’t be so absurd,” the woman said, smiling. “There is an old saying that a man who has no spunk cannot long maintain his independence. I have some spirit myself, and I don’t care for the sort of man who lets you hit him without turning a hair, and spins round and round like a top the more you strike him.”
“If my brother does not make trouble,” Wu Song said, “it is because he wishes to spare you unhappiness.”
They were still talking in the upper room when Wu Da came back with a host of things to eat, and set them down in the kitchen. He came to the foot of the stairs and called, “Wife, Wife, come down!”
“Where are your manners?” Jinlian cried. “Why do you call me down? There is no one except myself to entertain your brother.”
“Please do not trouble about me,” Wu Song said.
“Why don’t you go next door,” the woman said, “and ask old woman Wang to come and get the dinner ready? That’s what you ought to do.”
Wu Da went off and asked the old woman to come. She busied herself, and when all was ready, took the food upstairs and set it on the table—fish, meat, fruit and cakes. The wine was heated, and Wu Da, having asked his wife to take the host’s place, himself sat at the side and put his brother in the seat of honor. When they were all in their places, the wine was poured out. Wu Da himself heated it and served the other two. “Uncle,” Jinlian said, as she took her cup, “please excuse our having made no special preparations for you. I am afraid this is very inferior wine.”
“Please don’t say that,” said Wu Song. “It is most kind of you to trouble about me at all.”
While Wu Da busied himself with the heating of the wine, Jinlian, all smiles, and with the word “Uncle” continually upon her lips, kept saying, “Will you not have something tasty?” and, taking the choicest parts from different dishes, herself offered them to her brother-in-law.
Wu Song was a simple-hearted fellow and treated her like a sister, not knowing the sort of woman she was. Cleverly enough, she assumed a modest air, and it never occurred to him that she was deliberately trying to seduce him. They sat together and drank several cups of wine, but she could
not keep her eyes away from him, and this finally embarrassed him so much that he turned his head away. By this time, he had drunk much wine and, as he began to feel a little tipsy, he decided it was time to go and stood up to take his leave.
“What is your hurry?” Wu Da cried. “Stay and have a little more to drink. You have nothing to do now.”
“Thank you,” said Wu Song politely, “but I shall see you both some other time.”
They went downstairs with him, and as he was going out of the door, Jinlian cried, “Don’t forget to make arrangements to come here to live. If you don’t, the neighbors will have a very poor opinion of our hospitality. Brothers are not strangers, and your company will be a pleasure to us.”
“It is very kind of you,” Wu Song said. “I will bring my things here this very evening.”
“We shall be waiting for you,” the woman said.
CHAPTER 2
Pan Jinlian
Wu Song went to the inn near the Town Hall, packed his baggage and his bedclothes, and told a soldier to carry them to his brother’s house. When Pan Jinlian saw him coming, she was as delighted as if she had discovered a hidden treasure. She bustled about preparing a room for her brother-in-law and setting everything to rights. Wu Song sent back the orderly, and stayed the night at his brother’s home. The next day, he rose very early, and Jinlian hastened to heat water for him. He washed, combed and tied his hair, and then made ready to go to the office to sign the roll.
“Uncle,” Jinlian said, “when you have signed the roll, be sure to come home for lunch. You mustn’t think of taking your meals anywhere but here.”
After signing the roll, Wu Song waited all the morning in attendance at the office, and finally went home. Jinlian had taken the greatest pains over the cooking, and the three sat down together to lunch. Taking a cup of tea in both hands, the woman offered it to Wu Song.
The Golden Lotus, Volume 1 Page 7