The Golden Lotus, Volume 1

by Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng

  Chen Jingji took it in his hand. It was curved like the crescent moon and as red as a fallen lotus blossom. As he held it on his palm, it seemed no more than three inches long. He knew it must belong to Jinlian.

  “Give it to me,” he said to the boy, “and tomorrow I’ll find a splendid necklet for you to play with.”

  “Don’t try to cheat me,” the boy cried, “I shall ask you for it tomorrow.”

  “I won’t cheat you,” the man said, and the little monkey ran away to play.

  Chen Jingji put the shoe in his sleeve. “I have had some fun with that woman more than once,” he thought, “but I have never made quite sure of her. Each time when it has come to the point, she has managed to escape me. Now the Fates have been kind enough to put this shoe in my hands, and today, I’ll go and try my luck with her in real earnest. This time, I imagine, I shall get her.”

  With the shoe in his sleeve, Chen Jingji went at once to Jinlian’s room. As he passed the screen, he saw Qiuju kneeling in the courtyard. “Young Lady, what’s the meaning of this?” he said, laughing. “Are you practicing weight-lifting because you’ve joined the army?”

  Jinlian was upstairs. She heard this remark. “Who is that talking about practicing weight-lifting?” she said to Chunmei. “Surely the little wretch hasn’t put it down?”

  “No,” Chunmei said, “the stone is still on her head. It is Master Chen.”

  “Come upstairs, Brother-in-law,” Jinlian cried, “there is nobody here.”

  The young man gathered up his clothes and hastened upstairs. Jinlian was sitting near the open window with the blinds pulled down, dressing herself before a mirror. He came to her side, sat down on a stool, and watched her doing her coal-black hair, so long that it nearly touched the floor. She dressed it with red silk ribbons, setting on it a headdress of silver thread, and arranging the hair beneath, till it seemed like a sweet-scented cloud. In her hair she placed rose petals, and made four braids of it. She looked as beautiful as the living Guanyin. She finished her hair and put away the dressing case. Then she washed her hands, completed her dressing and told Chunmei to bring some tea for Chen Jingji. The young man smiled.

  “Why are you laughing?” Jinlian cried.

  “I’m laughing because I’m sure you have lost something.”

  “If I have lost something, you short-lived rascal,” Jinlian said, “what business is it of yours? And, anyway, who told you about it?”

  “Well,” Jingji said, “if that’s the way you look at it, treating my kind heart as if it were the entrails of a donkey, and talking in that nasty tone, I may as well be off.”

  He rose and started downstairs. Jinlian pulled him back again. “Don’t make such a to-do,” she said. “Now that Laiwang’s wife is dead and you haven’t anybody else to make love to, you condescend to call on your poor old mother. Well, you’ve guessed right this time. I have lost something.”

  Jingji took the shoe from his sleeve and dangled it in front of her. “Whose is this?” he said, laughing.

  “Ah, you pretty rogue,” Jinlian cried, “so it was you who stole my shoe, making me send my maids all over the place to look for it!”

  “Why should I steal your shoe?” Jingji said.

  “Well, you’re the only person who ever comes to my room. It was you, you rat, who stole it.”

  “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Jingji said. “I couldn’t possibly have stolen it. I haven’t been to your room for several days.”

  “You wait,” Jinlian cried. “I’ll tell your Father you stole my shoe, and we’ll see if you say I ought to be ashamed of myself.”

  “You can’t terrify me by using Father’s name,” Jingji said.

  “Oh, aren’t you brave? Though you knew quite well he was carrying on with Laiwang’s wife, that didn’t prevent you from finishing his work for him. After that, of course, you are not afraid of anybody. However, the proverb tells us that when a man sees his own belongings, he is entitled to take them back again. If you even suggest that you will not give it back, I will kill you.”

  “Lady,” Jingji said, “you are so clever you might be a Mongol. There is nobody about, and we have an excellent opportunity to discuss the matter. If you want your shoe, what are you prepared to give me in exchange? If you don’t give me something, not even lightning shall get it away from me.”

  “It’s my shoe, you wretch,” Jinlian cried, “and you must give it to me. What right have you to ask for anything in return?”

  Jingji laughed. “Fifth Mother,” he said, “I will have that handkerchief you have in your sleeve. If you give me that, I will let you have your shoe, like a good, dutiful son.”

  “But your Father knows this too well,” Jinlian said. “I dare not give you this one. I’ll find another one for you tomorrow.”

  “No,” the young man said, “a hundred other handkerchiefs will not satisfy me. This is the one I want.”

  Jinlian laughed. “Oh, what a practiced villain you are. Well, I haven’t the strength to quarrel with you.” She took the handkerchief from her sleeve and gave it to him. It was of fine lace, with white silk needlework, and attached to it were three silver characters. She gave everything to him.

  Jingji bowed low and took the handkerchief. Jinlian told him to take good care of it. “Don’t let your wife see it,” she said, “she has too sharp a tongue.” Jingji promised and gave her the shoe. He told her that Little Iron Rod had picked it up in the garden and given it him in exchange for a necklet.

  Jinlian flushed with anger. “The dirty little slave has made it quite black. I will tell his master to give him a thrashing.”

  “If you do,” Jingji said, “it will be the end of me, for whether the boy gets beaten or not, I shall get the credit for the business, for it was I who told you. For goodness’ sake, don’t say anything about it.”

  “I will forgive a scorpion sooner than that little slave,” Jinlian cried.

  They were talking when Laian came to find Jingji. “Father is in the outer hall,” he said, “and he is asking for Master Chen. He wants a present list written.”

  Jinlian hurried the young man away. She went downstairs and told Chunmei to fetch a rod so that she might beat Qiuju. Qiuju objected strongly. “I found your shoe, Mother,” she cried. “Why should you still wish to beat me?”

  Then Jinlian showed her the shoe she had just been given by Chen Jingji. “You thievish slave,” she said, “if the other was my shoe, what is this?” The maid stared at it open-mouthed, and said: “It is very funny. Where has this third shoe come from?”

  “You impudent hussy,” Jinlian cried, “you tried to palm somebody else’s shoe off on me. You might as well call me a three-legged fox.” She would hear no more, but made Chunmei give the girl ten strokes.

  Qiuju tried to protect her bottom, crying all the while to Chunmei: “It was you who left the gate open, and let somebody get in and steal the shoe. Now you tell Mother to beat me.”

  Chunmei cursed her: “No, it was you who brought in the coverlets. You lost the shoe, and you try to put the blame on me, when Mother gives you a few strokes. All this fuss about an old shoe. I suppose if Mother misses an earring or a ring some day, you’ll still blame everybody but yourself. Mother is very kind to let you off so lightly. If I were she, I would send for one of the boys, and make him give you twenty or thirty stiff strokes, and then see how you’d like it.” Qiuju swallowed down her anger and was silent.

  Ximen Qing had sent for Jingji to pack up a roll of silk and other presents for Captain He, who had just been promoted to be magistrate at Huaian, with full rank. His kinsmen and friends were giving him a send-off at the Temple of Eternal Felicity.

  When Ximen had sent Daian with the presents, he and Jingji dined together in the hall. Then he went to Jinlian’s room. Jinlian, with much ado, told him how Little Iron Rod had picked up her shoe.

  “It is all your fault, you good-for-nothing,” she said, “that that little slave—he deserves to be cut into a thousa
nd pieces— got my shoe. He has taken it outside and by this time everybody must have seen it. I found out about it and got it back. If you don’t give him a taste of a thrashing, he will always be spoiled.”

  Ximen did not wait to ask how she came to hear about it, but went off in a temper to the front court. The little monkey suspected nothing and was playing on the stone steps. Ximen caught him by the plaits of his hair, struck him with his fist and kicked him till the boy squealed like a pig being killed. When he let him go, the little monkey lay fainting on the ground for some time. Laizhao and his wife came running along to rescue their child. After a while the boy came to himself, though his nose was still bleeding. His parents carried him to their room and asked him what it was all about, and so learned that he had picked up a shoe.

  The Beanpole was furious. She went to the kitchen and made a tremendous fuss. She poured forth streams of curses.

  “You thievish, death-dealing whore, you young turtle, what has my boy done that you should bear a grudge against him? He is only ten years old. What does he know about your cunt? You have kicked up all this fuss for nothing, and got him beaten till the blood is pouring from his nose. If he dies, you whorish turtle, I’ll make you suffer. It shall be the worse for you.”

  When she had finished cursing in the kitchen, she went to the front court and continued there. If she had gone on for a couple of days she would not have exhausted herself.

  Jinlian was drinking with Ximen Qing in her room, and heard nothing of all this. That night, as they were together on the bed, he noticed that she was wearing a pair of green silk bed shoes, with crimson tops. “Why do you wear shoes like that?” he cried. “I can’t bear the sight of them.”

  “I only had one pair of red ones,” Jinlian said, “and that little slave has ruined one of them. Where do you expect me to get another in place of it?”

  “My child,” Ximen said, “you must make another pair tomorrow and put them on at once. They make me feel so loving when I see you wearing them. You know your sweetheart can’t bear to see shoes of any other color.”

  “What a funny slave you are,” the woman said. “And that reminds me. There was something I meant to tell you, but I forgot all about it.” She told Chunmei to bring the shoe and said to him: “Do you recognize this?”

  “No,” Ximen said, “I haven’t a notion whose it is.”

  “Don’t look at it as if it frightened you, then,” Jinlian said. “You can’t deceive me. That was a nice trick of yours! Huilian’s stinking hoof, kept in your summerhouse, among your visiting cards, as if it were some precious jewel, wrapped up in paper and incense! Pray, what makes it so precious? When that thievish whore died, she went to the lowest depths of Hell.” She pointed to Qiuju. “That slave thought it was mine and brought it to me, so I gave her a beating. Throw it away,” she said to Chunmei.

  Chunmei threw it on the floor and said to Qiuju: “I’ll make you a present of it. You can wear it.”

  Qiuju picked it up. “Mother’s shoe is so small, I couldn’t even get one of my toes into it,” she said.

  “You slave,” Jinlian cried, “how dare you call that vile creature ‘Mother’? She must have been your master’s mother in a former life, or he wouldn’t be guarding her shoe as jealously as if it were a precious heirloom, the low fellow.”

  Qiuju took the shoe and was going out with it, but Jinlian called her back and told her to get a knife. “I’m going to cut that whore’s shoe into little pieces and throw it in the privy. That will banish the thievish strumpet forever beyond the hills of Hades, so that never again can she come to life.” She said to Ximen Qing: “If it distresses you so much to see me cut it, I will cut it all the more.”

  Ximen Qing laughed. “That’s enough, you queer little slave,” he said, “I don’t feel in the least distressed.”

  “If you don’t,” Jinlian said, “take an oath on it. The whore is dead, and we don’t know where she is. Why do you keep her shoe? Obviously because you like to look at it and remember her. I have spent many years with you but you don’t really care for me. There is always another woman in your heart.”

  “You funny little strumpet,” Ximen said, smiling. “Why do you say such things? She never did you any harm when she was alive.”

  He put his arm around her white neck and kissed her. Then the two once more did the work of clouds and rain.

  CHAPTER 29

  The Fortune-Teller

  Next day Pan Jinlian rose early and set Ximen Qing upon his way. Then, taking her sewing basket, she went to the Kingfisher Hall, and, sitting down on the steps, began to design her shoes. She sent Chunmei to ask Li Ping’er to join her.

  “What is that you’re drawing?” Li Ping’er said.

  “I am making a pair of crimson silk shoes with white flat soles, and on the toe I am going to embroider a cockatoo pecking at a peach.”

  “I have a piece of flowered crimson silk,” Li Ping’er said. “I will copy your design, but I shall make my shoes with heels.” She fetched her sewing basket and they sat down together. When Jinlian had drawn the pattern on one shoe, she asked Li Ping’er to draw the other. She said she was going to the inner court for Meng Yulou. “The other day,” she said, “she told me she was going to make some shoes.”

  She went to the inner court and found Yulou in her room, bending over a table, putting the lining into a shoe.

  “You are about early this morning,” Yulou said.

  “Yes,” Jinlian said, “I was up early and saw Father off to Captain He’s farewell party. Then I asked the Sixth Lady to come and work with me in the garden. It is cooler there. I have just finished drawing the pattern of one shoe and the Sixth Lady is doing the other for me. Now I’ve come for you. It will be jolly for us all to work together. What is that you’re doing?”

  “It is the mate to that black silk shoe I showed you yesterday,” Yulou said. “You do work hard,” Jinlian said, “you have actually come to the lining already.”

  “I finished one yesterday and the other is half done,” Yulou said.

  Jinlian examined the shoe carefully. “What kind of a toe are you going to put on it?” she said.

  “Oh, I am not like you two children,” Yulou said. “You must have lots of flowers and pretty things. I am a staid old lady and shall simply have the toes of gilded sheep skin, bound around the edges with green thread. What would you suggest?”

  “Oh, that will do well enough,” Jinlian said, “but hurry up. Li Ping’er is waiting for us.”

  “Won’t you sit down and drink a cup of tea first?”

  “No,” Jinlian said, “bring the tea with you, and drink it there.”

  Yulou told her maid to make some tea and bring it out to them. Holding hands, with the shoes in their sleeves, the two women went to the garden. As they passed Wu Yueniang, who was sitting under the eaves outside her own apartments, she asked where they were going. Jinlian told her that Li Ping’er had sent her for Yulou and that they were going to design some shoes. They went on to the garden. There they all sat down together, and looked at each other’s work.

  “Why do you always make crimson low-heeled shoes?” Yulou said to Jinlian. “They don’t look nearly so pretty as the high-heeled ones. If you don’t care for wooden soles, you can use felt, as I do.”

  “They are not walking-out shoes,” Jinlian said, “they are for bedroom use. A little slave ruined my others, and Father told me to make some new ones.”

  “Speaking of shoes,” Yulou said, “I hope the Sixth Lady will not think me a gossip, but yesterday you lost one of your shoes, and Father gave Little Iron Rod a beating. The boy fell down and lay in a faint for a long time. That upset Laizhao’s wife, and she cursed like anything, up and down the back court. ‘That whorish young turtle,’ she cried, ‘he has been telling tales about my boy and now the poor boy has had a thrashing. It’s a good thing he didn’t die, or that vile creature would have had to pay for it.’ We couldn’t make out whom she was cursing, but some time afterwar
ds Little Iron Rod came along and the Great Lady asked him why Father had beaten him. ‘I was playing in the garden,’ he said, ‘and I picked up a shoe. Uncle Chen came with a necklet and I asked him to give it to me for my shoe. I don’t know who told Father and got me beaten.’ Then he said he was looking for Uncle Chen so that he could get the necklet he had been promised, and ran off. You see the turtle in question is our brother-in-law. Fortunately, only Li Jiao’er was there, and not the Great Lady, or there would have been trouble.”

  “Why?” Jinlian said, “did the Great Lady have anything to say about it?”

  “You may well ask that,” Yulou said. “Indeed she had a good deal to say. She said: ‘In this wretched household, there is now a nine-tailed fox who seems determined to rule the roost. I remember how comfortable everybody was when Laiwang came back from his journey to the south, until stories began to fly around. First that Laiwang’s wife was flirting with his Lordship, then that he himself had got a knife and carried a club. All this ended in the poor man’s being banished and his wife hanging herself. Now, all for the sake of a paltry shoe, she sets both heaven and earth in a turmoil. If she had been wearing the shoe in a proper and decent manner, it would not have been there for the boy to pick up. I suppose she was playing some dirty game in the garden with that man of hers, and drinking, and dropped her shoe. Now in order to keep the shameful business dark, she throws all the blame on the boy. After all, it is not a matter of any importance.”

  “She is talking out of her cunt,” Jinlian cried. “What does she consider an important matter, I wonder. Surely murder is important enough, and the slave took a knife to murder his master.” She turned to Yulou. “Sister, we have never had any secrets from one another. You remember how terrified we both were when Laixing came and told us, yet she, the first wife, talks in this strain. However, if it doesn’t matter to her, it doesn’t matter to me, and if the slaves like to kill their master, they may. That woman Huilian was one of her maids, but she never made the slightest attempt to control her, and the slave deceived her betters, and behaved badly to those beneath her. She flew into tempers first with one and then with another. Well, people must find somebody to let loose their hatred upon. If she is going to say nasty things about me, she will get as good as she gives. When that Huilian hanged herself, she didn’t tell her husband the truth. She spent a lot of money hushing it up. If she hadn’t done so, it would not have passed over so easily. She managed to scrape out of it, and now she puts on this high and mighty air. She accuses me of interfering with her husband. Well, if I don’t make him kick out that slave and his wife, you can consider that I count for nothing. I don’t intend to let myself be pushed down a well.”