Ximen Qing smiled. “Oh, that’s who she is! I haven’t seen her for about six years. I never thought of her as being grown up.”
A little later the girls came to pour wine for them. Guijie pressed Ximen to drink a great deal, and murmured loving words in his ear.
“What are your mother and sister doing now?” Ximen said. “Why do they never come to see your aunt?”
“Since last year,” Guijie said, “my mother has not been at all well. Even now she can hardly get about, and she has to have someone to lean upon if she wishes to walk. My sister Guiqing has taken up with a merchant from Anhui, and for some months she has been staying at the inn with him. He will not allow her to come home even for a few days, so there is no one at home but me. I have to support the household by going out day after day to sing at parties, and I’m very tired of it all. We are always thinking about coming to see Aunt, but really we never get an opportunity. Why have you not been to see us for so long, Father? It would be kind of you to send my aunt to see her sister one of these days.”
Ximen Qing thought the girl very pleasant, and she talked intelligently. He soon found himself falling in love with her. “I think I shall invite one or two friends to help me take you home tonight,” he said. “What do you say?”
“Don’t make fun of me, Father,” the girl said. “How can such noble feet as yours tread our unworthy ground?”
“I am not making fun of you,” Ximen said. He took a handkerchief, a toothpick, arid a box of tea leaves from his sleeve, and gave them to her.
“When will you come?” Guijie asked. “I must tell the servant to go home, and give them a chance to get ready.”
“We shall start as soon as the party is over.”
Soon the wine was finished and it grew dark. Ximen Qing invited Ying Bojue and Xie Xida, and, without going home first, they went off together to Guijie’s house in the bawdy district.
A dark, deep pit is this for man’s ensnarement
Built like a prison pen, a cavern for the enticement of souls
Like a butcher’s yard, with corpses piled and laid in order.
Here love brings death, and only money lives.
The sign is written in great characters:
“Here, golden brothers, would you purchase love, pray do not offer silk for hairdresses.
Before she yields her blossoms to you, Madam must have cash.
In this house, sisters are to be had only for ready money.”
Ximen Qing followed Guijie’s sedan chair to her door. Guiqing opened it, and took them into the hall, and, after greeting them with due politeness, went to ask her mother to come and receive them. Soon the old procuress came, supporting herself on a stick, for she was almost paralyzed. As soon as she saw Ximen Qing, she cried, “Heavens, Sir, what wind has blown you here?”
Ximen Qing smiled. “Please forgive me, but I have been so busy, I couldn’t come.”
The old woman turned to Ying Bojue and Xie Xida. “Why haven’t you two been here?”
“I have been busy too,” Bojue said. “We have been to a party at Hua’s house today, and we met Guijie there. Master Ximen and we have brought her home. But give us some wine as quickly as you like, and let us drink a cup or two and have some fun.”
The old woman made the three sit down in the place of honor, and offered them tea. Meanwhile the table was laid, and wine and refreshments set out. Candles and lamps were lighted, and a plentiful repast was set before them. Guijie changed her clothes and came to sit beside them. The two sisters, their jade wrists keeping time together, filled the golden cups. They passed the wine and sang songs.
“I have been told,” Ximen said to Guiqing, “that your sister can sing songs of the South. Here are these two gentlemen. Won’t you ask her to sing a song in their honor?”
“Oh, I really could not trouble her,” Bojue said. “I am only basking in your reflected glory, Sir, but I shall of course clean my ears the more respectfully to hear the exquisite melody.”
Guijie sat and smiled, but did not get up. Ximen Qing really wished to make a woman of her, and that was why he asked her to sing. Her old mother was experienced in such matters and saw what was in the wind.
“My sister,” Guiqing said, “has always been very independent. She won’t let anybody hear her sing unless she thinks fit.”
Ximen Qing told Daian to take five taels of silver from his purse, and set it on the table. “This is a mere trifle,” he said, “but it may suffice to buy you some powder and rouge. I will send you some pretty clothes one of these days.”
Guijie jumped up and thanked him, and, telling the maid to take the present away, she prepared to sing. Now, though she was very young, she was much more seductive and clever than many another. There was no flurry or haste about her. She gently touched her silken sleeves, and swung her dainty skirts. A handkerchief, tasseled and embroidered with a design of flowers and water, hung from her sleeve.
When she had ended her song, Ximen Qing was delighted beyond all measure. He told Daian to take the horse home, and spent the night with Guijie. He had been ready enough to make a woman of this girl, and, when Ying Bojue and Xie Xida urged him to do so, he yielded to their suggestions without raising any difficulties. The next day he sent a boy home for fifty taels of silver and four sets of clothes. These were to be the present customary on such occasions. When Li Jiao’er heard the news, she was delighted, for Guijie was her niece. She gave Daian a piece of silver, and he brought the clothes to the bawdy house. There a banquet was prepared, and there was singing, dancing, and wine for three days. They were all as merry as could be. Ying Bojue and Xie Xida brought along Sun Guazui, Zhu Shinian, and Chang Zhijie, and they all offered a few coins in token of congratulation. Ximen Qing provided the silken bedclothes, and every day there was wine and food without stint. They enjoyed themselves immensely.
CHAPTER 12
Pan Jinlian Narrowly Escapes Disaster
The tree is pitiful that stands alone
Its branches fragile and its roots uncertain.
The dew may give it moisture, but the wind
Blows it to one side and the other.
There is none to raise the silken coverlet
I must sit and keep my watch from night to morning.
Sorrow has made me thin
No loving wish of yours has given me
This slender waist.
Ximen Qing was so delighted with Guijie’s beauty that he stayed at the bawdy house for several days. Many times Wu Yueniang sent servants with horses to bring him back, but Guijie’s family hid his hat and clothes, and would not let him go. The ladies of his own household were for once at a loss for something to do. Most of them were quite content, but Pan Jinlian was still not thirty years old, and her passions were by no means under control. Day after day, she made herself look as pretty as a jade carving, and stood at the main gate with gleaming teeth and scarlet lips, leaning upon the door and waiting for her husband to return. Not until evening did she go to her room, and there the pillow seemed deserted, and the curtains forlorn, and there was none to share the joys of her dressing table. Sleep would not come to her, and she went to the garden, walking delicately upon the flowers and moss and, when she saw the moon reflected in the water, she thought of the uncertainty of Ximen’s nature, and as she watched the tortoiseshell cats enjoying each other’s company, it brought only disturbance to her own sweet heart.
Qintong, the boy who had accompanied Meng Yulou when she married Ximen Qing, was now sixteen years old, and for the first time took his place in the household as a full-grown youth. He had finely arched eyebrows and eyes full of intelligence, and was indeed both clever and attractive. Ximen Qing had entrusted him with the care of the garden, and he slept every night in a small room there. Jinlian and Yulou sometimes sewed or played chess in an arbor in the garden, and at such times Qintong waited upon them attentively, and, whenever Ximen Qing was about, would come and give them warning. Jinlian liked him and often summoned h
im to her room and gave him wine. So morning after morning, and evening after evening, they exchanged understanding glances, and were not entirely indifferent to one another.
It was now about the seventh month and Ximen’s birthday was drawing near. Yueniang was well aware of her husband’s doings, and once again told Daian to take a horse and go for him. Jinlian privately wrote a note, and told the boy to give it to Ximen Qing in secret. “Tell him,” she said, “that I hope it will not be long before he comes back.” Daian rode off to the bawdy house, and there found all Ximen’s boon companions keeping company with him, kissing the girls, and being very merry.
“What has brought you here?” Ximen Qing said, when he saw Daian. “Is there anything wrong at home?” “No,” said Daian. “Well, tell your uncle Fu to collect the money that is owing, and, when I come back, I’ll settle up with him.”
“He has been collecting some during the last few days,” the boy said, “and he is only waiting for you to come home to go through the accounts.”
“Did you bring the clothes for your Aunt Guijie?”
“Yes,” the boy replied, “here they are.” He took a red vest and a blue skirt from a parcel, and gave them to the girl. She made a reverence to him, and called for food and wine to be given him. When he had finished, he came over to Ximen and whispered in his ear: “The Fifth Lady has given me a note for you, asking you to go home soon.”
Ximen Qing was just about to take the note when Guijie saw it. She thought it was a love letter from some other girl, and made a dash for it. When she opened it, she found a sheet of patterned paper, with several columns written in black ink, and handed it to Zhu Shinian, asking him to read it for her.
I think of him as evening falls; I think of him when the sky is bright.
I think about my lover till my thoughts overwhelm me, and I faint
Yet still he does not come.
For him I am wounded; for him my spirit faints.
Oh, it is sad.
I lie alone under the figured coverlets; the flickering lamp is nearly out.
The world is sleeping, and the moonbeams creep across the window.
That heart is unrelenting, like a wolf’s
How can I bear this agony another night?
Guijie listened to this, then left them and went to her room, where she threw herself face downwards on the bed. Ximen Qing saw that she was upset, tore the note to pieces, and kicked Daian. Twice he implored Guijie to come back, but she paid no heed. Finally, getting more and more excited, he went to her room and carried her out.
“Get on your horse and go home,” he said to Daian. “As for the strumpet who told you to come, when I get home, I’ll beat her till she comes to a disgusting end.” Daian went home with tears in his eyes. “Please don’t be so angry,” Ximen said, “it is only from my fifth wife. She wants me to go home to talk about something or other. There is nothing else.”
Zhu Shinian teased them. “Don’t believe him, Guijie. He is deceiving you. Jinlian is his latest flame, a very pretty girl too. Don’t let him go.”
Ximen Qing slapped him. “You ruffian! You’ll be the death of somebody with these silly jokes of yours. She is angry enough without your talking rubbish.”
“Brother,” Guiqing said, “you are not fair. If you were a good husband, you would not run about teaching singing girls the arts of love, you should stay at home. Then all would be well. Why, you’ve only been here a few hours, and now you’re getting ready to go away again.”
“That’s quite true,” Bojue said. “You had better take my advice, both of you. Your Lordship must stay here, and you, Guijie, must not lose your temper. The first person to leave will have to spend a couple of taels and treat the rest of us.”
Ximen Qing took Guijie on his knee, and they drank together happily. Soon afterwards seven cups of the most delicious tea were brought and handed around.
“Now we’ll have a song from everyone who can sing,” Xie Xida said. “He who can’t sing must tell a funny story, and we’ll persuade Guijie to take a little more wine with us. I’ll begin.”
“Once, a bricklayer was doing some paving in a house, and the lady of the house treated him shabbily. So he quietly took a brick or two and stopped up the drain. Not very long afterwards it began to rain and, of course, the water flooded the whole place. The woman didn’t know what on earth to do, and ran to find the bricklayer. This time she gave him a meal, and offered him some money, and got him to make the water flow again. When he had eaten his fill, he went to the gutter, took the bricks out, and the water flowed away at once. “What was the matter with it?” the lady of the house asked him. “Just what is the matter with you,” the bricklayer replied. “If there is any money about, the water gate will open; but, if not, there will be no admission.”
Guijie thought that this story was aimed at her, and she lost no time before retaliating.
“I should like to tell you a story,” she said. “Once upon a time, Sun, the Immortal, thought he would give a banquet to his friends, and sent his tiger around to invite them. As ill luck would have it, the tiger gobbled them all up on the way. The Immortal waited until it was dark, but nobody came. At last the tiger came back. ‘Where are my guests?’ the Immortal said. ‘Master,’ said the tiger, ‘I fear I am not a success at inviting people. Somehow I seem much better at eating them up.’ “
This did not please the brothers at all. “Oh, indeed,” Ying Bojue said, “so we are always sponging, are we?” He took a small silver pin from his hair. Xie Xida found in his hat a pair of gilt rings of no great value. Zhu Shin-ian took from his sleeve a tattered old handkerchief worth a pittance. Sun Guazui took a white apron from around his waist. Chang Zhijie had nothing, so he borrowed a small piece of silver from Ximen Qing. They handed all these things to Guiqing, and asked her to provide a feast in honor of Ximen Qing and Guijie. She turned them over to a servant to buy some pork and a chicken, but all the rest she had to pay for herself. Soon everything was brought in, and they sat down. The order was given: “Chopsticks into action.” Our description must take time, but there was nothing slow about the movements we describe.
Then every mouth was opened wide and every head was bent.
No sun or sky was to be seen; it was like a cloud of locusts.
They blinked their eyes, their shoulders heaved.
Starvelings they might have been, from some dark dungeon.
One quickly snatched a piece of leg, as though no food
Had passed his lips for years.
One waved his chopsticks thrice, it was as though for years and years
He had not seen a meal.
Sweat trickled down the cheeks of one, he carved a chicken bone
As though inspired by hatred.
Gravy adorned his comrade’s lips. With copious drafts of spittle
He gobbled down the pork, with hair and skin.
They ate, and in a flash, the cups and plates were clean
It might have been a den of wolves.
They ate, and in a flash again, the flying chopsticks
Crossed and recrossed the table.
This is the marshal of the King of Gluttons
This, the general of the Lickers-up.
Though it has long been empty, from the wine jar
They try to fill their cups.
Though all the food has gone long since,
They search and search again.
The luscious meal, with all its hundred flavors
Has vanished in a moment.
To worship has it gone,
To worship in the temple of the belly.
They cleared up everything till the plates and dishes looked like the head of a shining bald-pated Buddha. Ximen Qing and Guijie could get nothing but a cup of wine each. They did indeed pick out a few pieces of food, but the others snatched them away. Two of the chairs were broken. The boys, who were looking after the horses, could not get in to share in the repast, and contented themselves by pulling down the statue
of the divinity of the place and piddling upon it. When the time came for them to go away, Sun Guazui took a gilded image of Buddha, which was venerated in an inner room, and slipped it inside his trousers. Ying Bojue pretended to kiss Guijie, and stole a gold pin from her hair. Xie Xida went off with Ximen’s fan. Zhu Shinian went secretly to Guiqing’s room and stole her mirror. As for Chang Zhijie, he did not hand over the money he had borrowed from Ximen Qing, but had the sum put down to his account. They were all in the highest spirits.
When Daian reached home, he found Yueniang, Yulou, and Jinlian sitting together. They asked him if his master was coming. “Father kicked me and cursed me,” the boy said, his eyes still red. “He says that anyone who tries to get him away will find herself in trouble.”
“What an outrageous fellow he is,” Yueniang cried. “It is quite bad enough that he refuses to come, without ill-treating this poor boy.”
“It was bad enough for him to kick the boy, but why should he threaten us?” Yulou said.
“The affection of a dozen of these strumpets wouldn’t amount to anything,” Jinlian said. “There is an old saying that a shipload of gold and silver would never satisfy people of their sort.”
Li Jiao’er had seen Daian return, and, as Jinlian was speaking, she came to the window and listened. They could not see her. She heard Jinlian speak of her family as a host of strumpets. After that, she hated Jinlian from the bottom of her heart, and there was always enmity between them.
Jinlian, while Ximen was away, found that the days passed very slowly. When she realized that he did not mean to return, she waited till her two maids had gone to bed and then, making believe to go and walk in the garden, called Qintong to her room and made him drunk. Then she shut her door, undressed, and the pair made love together.
The Golden Lotus, Volume 1 Page 21