There were hosts of people at the fair, and it was a wonderful sight. Dozens of arches, with lanterns hanging all around them, had been set up in the street. There were all kinds of booths, surrounded by crowds of men and women admiring the lanterns, some red as roses, and some green as willows. Horses and carriages made a noise like thunder.
Dragons flit through mountain peaks and sport in couples in the water.
Lonely storks gaze at the skies, shining as the clouds themselves.
Lanterns of the golden lotus; lanterns like towers of jade, glimmering like a mass of jewels.
Lanterns of mimosa, lotus lanterns, shedding a thousand radiant hues.
Lanterns of gossamer, light and dainty; sunflower lanterns, bobbing in the wind
Student lanterns, bowing back and forth, attentive to the bidding of Confucius and Mencius.
Wife lanterns, tender and obedient, picturing the virtues of Meng Jiang.
Monkish lanterns, with Yue Ming and Liu Cui standing side by side.
Lanterns of the Scribe of Hell, Zhong Kui and his sisters, sitting down together.
Lanterns like witches with fluttering fans, conjuring up evil spirits.
Lanterns of Liu Hai, with a golden frog, devouring precious treasure.
Camel lanterns and green lion lanterns bearing gifts beyond price.
Monkey lanterns and white elephant lanterns, with treasure worth the ransom of many cities.
Crabs sporting with the incoming breakers, on their backs, all hands and feet.
Bull-headed fishes, with monstrous mouths and long beards, swallowing the river plants.
Silver moths, vying in beauty; snow-white willows, each more glorious than the last.
Fishes and dragons playing on the sands.
The seven immortals and the five ancients with their sacred books
The nine barbarians and the eight uncivilized coming to offer precious gifts.
The drums at the fair beat sharply twice.
A hundred toys, each more cunning than its neighbor
The lanterns move round and round
The hanging lanterns bob up and down
There are glass vases painted with delicate maidens and exquisite flowers
There are screens of tortoiseshell, with Ying Zhou and Lang Yuan painted on them.
The young men gather at the rails where the ball is kicked as high as the eyes.
Hand in hand the maidens go to the upper floors that the beauty of their charms may be seen.
The booths of the palmists are like the clouds, and the tents of the readers of faces like the stars
They tell the fortunes of the coming year and read in the lives of men the joy and sadness that are to come.
They who sing the song of Yang Gong stand on the slopes.
Elsewhere, the wandering priests strike their cymbals and tell the story of San Cang.
There are sellers of Yuan Xiao, their pastries stuffed with fruits
And sellers of plum blossom with the dried branches cut away.
Hair ornaments sporting with the winds of spring; cold weather ornaments brightening the hair, their golden glory gleaming in the sun.
Round screens, painted with the gorgeous net of Shi Chong.
Lattices of mother of pearl, adorned with plum blossom and crescent moon, charming to the eyes.
We may not see all the beauties of Ao Shan
But before us is a year of happiness and joyful living.
Yueniang looked out upon the lanterns until the noise became too great for her. Then she and Li Jiao’er went back to their places to drink for a while. Jinlian, Yulou, and the two singing girls, stayed and still looked out of the window at the fair.
Jinlian flaunted her silken sleeves and pointed with her fine fingers, showing off the gold rings on them. She leaned half out of the window, biting melon seeds and throwing the skins at the passersby. She and Yulou laughed all the time. She pointed to something in the street, and cried, “Great Sister, come and look at the two hydrangea-lanterns over at that house. They look so pretty, as the wind blows them to and fro.” Then: “Second Sister, come and look at the great fish lanterns hanging over that door, and all the little fishes, crabs, and lobsters below. They are ever so funny.” And again: “Third Sister, come and look at the old-man-and-woman lanterns.”
Suddenly a gust of wind made a large hole in the lower part of the old-woman-lantern, and Jinlian laughed merrily. People standing below the window stared up at her, crowding till they almost trampled on each other. There were several dissolute young fellows among them. They pointed at the woman, and began to discuss her.
“She must have come from the palace of some duke or earl,” one said.
“She is a concubine of one of the princely households, come to see the lanterns,” another said. “She must be, or she would not be dressed in such splendid style.”
“She is one of the little girls from the bawdy house, and some nobleman has engaged her to come here and sing,” said a third.
Then another young man spoke. “You will never guess who they are. But I know. Those two women indeed belong to a distinguished family: they are the wives of the King of Hades, concubines of the General of the Five Directions. In other words, they belong to Master Ximen who keeps a medicine shop near the Town Hall and lends money to the officials. He is not at all the sort of man to fall out with. Probably they have come with the mistress of their household to see the lanterns. I don’t know the one wearing the green wrapper, but the other, in red with the artificial flowers, looks like the wife of Wu Da the cake seller. Wu Da caught them misbehaving in old woman Wang’s tea shop. His Lordship kicked Wu Da to death, and then took the woman to be one of his ladies. Her brother-in-law, Wu Song, went to the courts to bring an accusation, but, in mistake, killed the runner Li, and his Lordship had him punished. It is a year or two since I saw her last. She has certainly become very beautiful.”
Yueniang saw that a crowd was collecting in the street, and told Jinlian and Yulou to come and sit down. They drank wine and the two singing girls sang the Lantern Song to them.
Yueniang was anxious to go home. “I have had as much wine as I can drink,” she said, “and I and the Second Lady must leave you. But the others may stay and entertain you, Mistress Hua. My husband is not at home today, and there are only a few maids to look after things. I can’t help being anxious.”
Li Ping’er tried to persuade her to stay. “Good lady,” she said, “if you go, it must be because I have entertained you so poorly. Today is a great holiday, and the lamps are not yet lighted or the food prepared. You mustn’t think of going home. Even if Master Ximen is out, you have a number of maids. Why should you be uneasy? As soon as the moon rises, I will see you all home.”
“Mistress Hua,” Yueniang said, “I am afraid that is impossible. I never drink much wine. But I will leave the others here to take my place.”
“Great Lady and Second Lady,” Li Ping’er said. “Neither of you will drink with me. It is not fair. When I was at your house, your ladies would not let me off though I drank one cup after another. Today you have come to this poor place of mine, and though I can offer nothing worthy of you, I should like to do something to show my feelings.”
She took a great silver cup, and asked Li Jiao’er to drink. Then she turned to Yueniang. “I dare not offer you so large a cup,” she said, “but here is a small one.” She poured out a cup of wine and offered it.
Yueniang gave each of the singing girls two qian of silver and, when Li Jiao’er had finished her wine, they prepared to leave. “We will go first,” Yueniang said to Yulou and Jinlian, “and I will send the boys with lanterns to bring you home. You must not be too late, for there are not many of us at home.” Li Ping’er took Yueniang and Li Jiao’er to the door, and saw them off in their sedan chairs. Then she came back to drink wine with Yulou and Jinlian. It was getting dark, and the lamps in the room were lighted. As they drank, they listened to the playing and singing of the two girls.
Ximen Qing dined at home with Ying Bojue and Xie Xida, and afterwards they set out to the Lantern Fair. When they reached the end of Lion Street, Ximen was afraid his companions might see the ladies drinking wine at Mistress Hua’s house, so he turned aside into another street to look at the large lanterns. They went as far as one of the great booths and then came back. They met Sun Guazui and Zhu Shinian.
“It is a very long time since we saw you last,” the newcomers said. “Our hearts were thirsting for the sight of you.” They turned to Ying Bojue and Xie Xida. “You are a fine pair of rascals! You have been enjoying yourselves with our brother and never said a word to us about it.”
“You are unfair to them,” Ximen said. “I only met them in the street a moment ago.”
“Well,” Zhu Shinian said, “now that we’ve had enough of the lanterns, where shall we go?”
“Let us go to the wineshop and drink,” Ximen Qing said. “I will not ask you to my place, because all my women have gone to a party.”
“Why a wineshop?” Zhu Shinian said. “Why not call on Li Guijie? This is a great occasion. We will go and wish her a Happy New Year and enjoy ourselves at the same time. A few days ago we were at her place, and the very thought of you brought tears to her eyes. She told us she had been ill ever since the twelfth month, but not even your shadow had crossed her threshold. Brother, you have nothing else to do, and we shall be very glad to go with you.”
Ximen Qing remembered that he had to go and see Li Ping’er that evening. He declined. “I have certain matters to attend to today,” he said, “I’ll go with you tomorrow.” But they hustled him and dragged him till he found himself at the bawdy house in spite of himself.
When Ximen Qing and his companions reached the house, Guiqing, dressed very daintily, was standing outside the door. She brought them into the hall and made a reverence to each in turn.
“Come here at once, Mother,” Zhu Shinian cried at the top of his voice. “We have been lucky enough to persuade his Lordship to come.” The old procuress came, hobbling along with the help of her stick. She greeted Ximen Qing.
“I am a poor old body who has never done you any wrong,” she said. “Why have you kept away from your sisters so long? Perhaps you have another girl somewhere.”
“A good guess,” Zhu Shinian said. “His Lordship has made the acquaintance of a very pretty girl, and he goes to see her every day. Now you know why he never bothers about Guijie any more. If we hadn’t run into him at the Feast of Lanterns and dragged him along, he would not be here now. If you don’t believe me, ask Sun.” He pointed to Ying Bojue and Xie Xida. “Those unholy rascals belong to the same family of immortals as Master Ximen himself.”
The old woman found this very amusing. “Good brother Ying,” she said, “I have always treated you well. Why couldn’t you speak for us to his Lordship? He is a busy man, and, of course, as the proverb says, a young man is never faithful to one girl. All the coins in the world are made with the same sort of hole. I don’t mean to boast, but my daughter is a good-looking girl. Your own eyes, Sir, will tell you that much.”
“Let me explain,” Sun Guazui said. “His new girl does not live in any bawdy house. She is independent.”
Ximen Qing ran after Sun Guazui and slapped him. “Don’t believe this old oily mouth and all his crazy stories. His proper place is the slaughterhouse.”
Sun and the others roared with laughter. Ximen took three taels of silver from his sleeve and offered it to Guiqing, saying that he would like to give his friends a treat on this festival day. Guiqing would have nothing to do with it; she passed it on to the old procuress.
“What does this mean?” the old woman cried. “Do you think that on a festival day like this I cannot myself entertain your friends? If you offer me this silver, it is quite clear you believe we never think of anything but money.”
Ying Bojue went to her. “Take my advice and accept the money,” he said, “and get us some wine at once.”
“It is not right,” the old woman mumbled, still pretending to refuse the money, though she put it into her sleeve. Finally she thanked Ximen Qing, and made a profound reverence to him.
“Wait a moment, Mother,” Bojue cried. “I have a funny story to tell you. There was once a young man who kept a girl at the bawdy house, and one day, when he called to see her, he pretended to have been ruined. The old woman saw how shabby his clothes were and would have nothing to say to him. He sat for a long time, and she never even offered him a cup of tea. ‘May I have some rice, Mother?’ the young man said at last. ‘I am very hungry.’ ‘My rice bin is empty,’ the old woman replied. ‘Where shall I find rice for you?’ ‘If you have no rice,’ said the young man, ‘perhaps you will give me a little water to wash my face?’ But the old woman said, ‘I can’t afford to buy any water; we have had none for days.’ But then the young man produced a piece of silver, about ten taels in weight, and put it on the table. Again he asked for rice and water. The old woman became quite excited. ‘Eat your face and wash your rice, Brother,’ she cried, ‘and when you have washed your rice, eat your face.”
They laughed. “You are trying to make fun of me,” the old woman said. “I have heard stories like that before, but I don’t believe a word of them.”
“Listen,” Bojue said, “I’ll tell you something. This girl his Lordship has been courting is Brother Hua’s girl, Wu Yin’er, who lives in the back lane. He doesn’t care for Guijie any more.”
“I don’t believe you,” the old woman said, laughing. “I don’t wish to boast, but my daughter is certainly as good-looking as Wu Yin’er. Brother is so wrapped up in us that not even the sharpest of knives could cut him away from us. And he is not a fool either. He can tell real gold when he sees it.” With this, she went to see about the preparation of the feast.
In a short time Guijie came in. Her hair was dressed in the Hangzhou style, with pins inlaid with gold, and green plum ornaments. She wore a pearl headdress, a pair of golden earrings, a crimson silk skirt and a white silk coat. She looked as beautiful as a carving in jade. When she had greeted them all, she sat down by the side of her sister, and a little later tea was brought in. Guijie handed the tea and kept a cup for herself. Then a maid came to clear away the tea things and set the table.
Suddenly several men, whose dress showed that they were of low degree, appeared before the lattice, and looked in on them. Then they came in and knelt down. They brought three or four measures of melon seeds.
“We bring you this present,” their spokesman said, “in honor of the festival.”
“Who are you?” Ximen asked. He only recognized the leader, Yu Chun.
“Nie Yue is outside,” said Yu Chun. “He belongs to our party.”
Nie Yue came in. When he saw Ying Bojue, he said, “So you are here, Master Ying.” He kowtowed.
Ximen Qing took the melon seeds and threw a tael of silver to Yu Chun. Then the fellows thanked him politely and went away.
When Ximen Qing had got rid of them, he settled down to his wine. Guijie filled the golden cups, making great play with her crimson sleeves. The food was of the rarest and the dessert of seasonable fruits. The men reveled in the fragrance of the two girls, and the wine they drank only seemed to add to the charm. The cups were filled twice, then Guijie and her sister sang “The Sweetness of the Glorious Day,” one playing the cithern and the other the lute. While they were singing, three members of the Ball Club came in, wearing dark clothes and bringing two roast geese and a couple of jars of wine. They made a profound reverence to Ximen Qing, and offered their gifts. Ximen knew them all. There were Bai Tuzi, little Zhang Xian, and Mohammedan Luo.
“Wait for us outside,” he said, “and, as soon as we have finished our wine, we will come and have a game with you.” He gave them four dishes of food, a large jar of wine, and some cakes. They got their ball ready and waited. When Ximen had drunk a little more wine, he went out to the courtyard to watch the ball game and asked Guijie to play with two of the
m, one to pitch and one to strike. She jumped about, kicked, elbowed, and struck the ball to the great admiration of those looking on. If sometimes she could not catch it, they hastily caught it for her. When the game was over, they went to Ximen Qing for money.
“Guijie’s form has very greatly improved,” one said. “ When she elbows the ball, it takes us all our time to hold it. In a year or two, she may well be the finest ball player in all the bawdy houses. She is infinitely better than the Dong girls who live in the second lane.”
By the time Guijie had played two games, dust covered her eyebrows and her cheeks were damp with sweat. Her limbs ached and she panted for breath. She took the fan from her sleeve and fanned herself, then held Ximen Qing’s hand, while they watched Guiqing, Xie Xida, and Zhang Xian play a game. The others stood at the sides to pick the ball up for them.
Ximen Qing drank wine as he watched them. Then Daian came with a horse. “My mistress and the other ladies have now been gone some time,” he whispered. “Mistress Hua hopes that you will come as soon as you can.” Ximen told the boy to take the horse to the back and wait for him there. He refused to drink any more, but took Guijie to her room for a while, and then pretended to go out to wash his hands. Leaving her room, he opened the back door, mounted his horse, and was off like a flash. Ying Bojue saw him go and told a servant to detain him, but Ximen would not wait; he declared that he had business at home to attend to. He left Daian to give a tael and five qian to the ballplayers.
Thinking that Ximen had gone to Wu Yin’er’s house, they sent a servant to follow him there. Bojue and the others drank till the second night watch, and then the party broke up.
CHAPTER 16
Li Ping’er Is Betrothed
Ximen Qing left the bawdy house. With Daian following, he went to see Li Ping’er at her house in Lion Street. When they found the gate closed, they knew that the guests had got into their sedan chairs and departed. Daian called to old woman Feng to open the door. She let Ximen Qing in. Li Ping’er, holding a candle, was waiting for him in the hall. She looked very charming in her pretty headdress and soft white clothes. She had been leaning on the framework of the lattice longing for him to come; and when he came, she ran downstairs to meet him, her lotus-like feet moving swiftly, her silken skirt fluttering.
The Golden Lotus, Volume 1 Page 27