“Only the other day,” she said, “your mother sent me a valuable present and now you have gone to all this trouble to buy expensive gifts for me.”
Guijie smiled. “Mother says that now his Lordship is an officer, of course he will not be able to come so often to see her. I have come to offer myself as his adopted daughter. Then there will be no difficulty about my coming here because we shall be relatives.”
Yueniang told her to take off her long cloak and asked why Wu Yin’er and the others had not come with her.
“I spoke to Wu Yin’er about it yesterday,” Guijie said. “I can’t understand why she has not come. The other day, Father told me to bring Zheng Aixiang and Han Jinchuan. As I was coming along, I saw the chairs waiting outside their doors, so they are sure to be here before long.”
Almost at that moment Wu Yin’er, Zheng Aixiang, and a young girl dressed in scarlet, came and kowtowed to Yueniang. They had brought their clothes in a bag. When Wu Yin’er saw Guijie sitting on the bed with her outdoor clothes already taken off, she said: “You are a fine friend, Sister Guijie. You would not wait, but came along without us.”
“I was going to wait for you,” Guijie said, “but when my mother saw the chair at the door she said: ‘It looks to me as though your sister has already gone. You had better make haste.’ I didn’t realize you were not ready.”
“She is not too late,” Yueniang said, smiling. She asked the name of the newcomer. “She is Han Jinchuan’s younger sister, Han Yuchuan,” Wu Yin’er told her.
Yuxiao brought refreshments for the singing girls. Guijie, who was anxious to show that she was now the adopted daughter of Yueniang, sat on Yueniang’s bed and helped Yuxiao to crack the nuts and put them into the fruit box. Wu Yin’er and the other girls sat together on a bench. Guijie lost no opportunity of making clear her new importance. “Sister Yuxiao,” she would say, “would you mind giving me a cup of tea?” or “Sister Xiaoyu, may I have some water to rinse my hands?” Wu Yin’er and the others looked at her in astonishment, but Yueniang and Li Jiao’er were sitting opposite and they could say nothing.
“Sister Wu Yin’er,” Guijie said, “you must get your instrument and sing a song for my mother. I have done my part already.”
Again Wu Yin’er could not help herself. She picked up her instrument, and the four girls together sang the Eight Melodies of Ganzhou.
“What guests has Father invited today?” Wu Yin’er asked.
“They are all kinsmen and friends,” Yueniang said.
“Are the two eunuchs coming?” Guijie said. Yueniang said no; that Xue had called the day before, but not Liu.
“His Lordship Liu is a fine man,” Guijie said, “but Xue is always up to tricks. Sometimes he pinches me till I nearly faint.”
“After all,” Yueniang said, “he is a eunuch and there is something lacking about him. There is no harm in letting him have his little fun.”
“You are right,” Guijie said, “but sometimes I find him rather a nuisance.”
Daian came for the box of fruits. When he saw the four girls sitting there, he said: “Half the guests are here already, and they are just about to take their places. Why do you not dress and go?”
Yueniang asked who had come, and Daian told her that Master Qiao, Uncle Hua, the two Uncles Wu and Uncle Xie were there. Guijie said: “What about Beggar Ying and Pockmarked Zhu? Have they come?”
“The ten gentlemen of the brotherhood are all here,” Daian said. “Uncle Ying was here early and Father asked him to attend to a certain matter for him. He went away, but I think he will be back soon.”
“Oh dear!” Guijie said, “every time I come into contact with those sharpers, I wonder how I shall be stung. I shall not go. I shall stay here and sing songs for Mother.”
“You take too much upon yourself,” Daian said. He took the fruit box and went back to the hall.
“Mother,” Guijie said to Yueniang, “do you know that Pockmarked Zhu never allows his lips to stop moving when he is at a party? The others complain but he pays no attention. He and Greedy-Chops Sun have not an atom of shame about them.”
“Yes,” Zheng Aixiang said, “Pockmarked Zhu is always about with Ying. They came to our house the other day with Little Zhang the Second. Little Zhang had twenty taels and wanted my younger sister Zheng Aiyue. My mother told them that my sister had just been made a woman by a Southerner. It had only been a month before and the Southerner had not gone away yet, so we could do nothing for him. They would not listen to her, and my mother lost her temper, locked the door from the inside, and would have nothing to do with them. Young Master Zhang is very well off. He rides a great white horse and there are always four or five boys in attendance on him. Well, he simply sat down in our hall and refused to go away. Pockmarked Zhu knelt down in the courtyard and said: ‘Old Lady, you must really come out and take this money. All we ask is to see Zheng Aiyue and have a cup of tea. Then we will go away.’ This made us laugh like anything. He was like the man who comes to tell us about the floods. He’s an utterly shameless fellow.”
“That young Zhang,” Wu Yin’er said, “once had the dong cat.”
“Yes,” Zheng Aixiang said, “and set fire to the tiger’s mouth, and then the turtle broke with her.”
She turned to Guijie. “Yesterday I met Zhou Xiao outside our door and he told me to tell you that the other day he and Nie Yue went to call upon you, but you were not at home.”
Guijie glanced sharply at her. “Why, of course,” she said, “I was here that day. It was my sister Guiqing he went to see.”
“If there is nothing between you,” Aixiang said, “why are you always so friendly?”
“You are as fond of your joke as old Liu the Ninth. Do you think Zhou means anything to me? I should be ashamed to have anything to do with that fellow. There was a row, and he told everybody he was coming to see me. He was very much annoyed because I wouldn’t let his mother say so. Of course, I can’t help his coming to our house. But I should be a piece of stone, whatever he had to do with anyone else. If I were so foolish, it would be like looking towards the South and driving a nail into my bosom.”
They all laughed. Yueniang, who had been sitting on the bed listening to them, said: “I have not understood a single word of what you have been saying all this time. I do not even know what language you are speaking.”
The guests in the front court had now all arrived. Ximen Qing, dressed in his robes of ceremony, served them with wine. Master Qiao was asked to take the place of honor and he offered the first toast to Ximen Qing. The three singing girls came from the back court. They wore glittering pearl headdresses on their heads and their bodies were exquisitely perfumed with musk. Bojue, as soon as he saw them, said, jokingly: “Where have you three odd things come from? Stop. You may not come in. Why is Guijie not here?” Ximen Qing declared he did not know.
Zheng Aixiang took the zither, Wu Yin’er the lute, and Yuchuan the castanets. They opened their red lips, showed their pearly teeth, and sang.
Besides Master Qiao, who sat in the place of honor, all the members of the brotherhood were present, with Fu, the manager of the shop, and Ben the Fourth. There were fourteen guests, and eight tables. Ximen Qing sat in the host’s seat. It was a very splendid feast. Charming voices, exquisite dancing, wine like rolling waves, and food piled up mountains high. When the wine had been passed several times and three songs had been sung, Ying Bojue said: “Host, do not allow them to sing any more. They sing the same tune over and over again like a dog scratching at the door. I have no patience for any more of it. Won’t you ask one of the boys to bring three chairs, so that they can sit down and serve wine for us? That would be much better than this singing.”
“Leave them alone, you dog,” Ximen said. “Why should you upset the whole party?”
“Oh, Beggar Ying,” Aixiang cried, “you’re letting off fireworks from your behind. You can’t wait till evening.”
Bojue rose in his place. “You marvelous little strump
et,” he cried, “evening or not evening, what has it to do with you, you mother’s cunt? Come here, Daian. Bring the thumbscrews, and let them have a taste. Then they may serve the wine.”
“Oh, you scamp,” Aixiang cried, “you have lifted me right off the ground.”
“Listen!” Ximen cried, “we have not all the time in the world. Serve us with wine at once. I will wait no longer.”
Wu Yin’er poured wine for Master Qiao, Zheng Aixiang for the elder of the Wu brothers and Yuchuan for the younger, then they went to the others in turn. When Wu Yin’er gave wine to Ying Bojue, he asked her why Guijie had not come.
“The Great Lady has accepted her as a ward,” Wu Yin’er said. “I will tell you about it, Uncle, but please keep it to yourself. She is up to some trick. The other day, when we left here, we went home together and it was arranged that we should all come together early today. This morning I dressed and waited for her. I never dreamed she would buy some presents and come here by herself. The result was that we were all late. We sent our maid to call for her, and she was told that Guijie had gone. My mother was very angry. I don’t see why she should not have told us that she was going to be made a ward. We couldn’t do anything about it. But she made a great secret of it and, when we were in the inner court, she sat on the Great Lady’s bed and fussed about to show off her new dignity. She cracked the nuts, set the fruit boxes in order, did this, that, and the other thing and kept us at our distance. I really don’t know exactly how it all came about, but the Sixth Lady told me that Guijie had made a pair of shoes for the Great Lady, bought a box of fruitcakes, two ducks, a pair of large hams and two bottles of wine, and brought them with her in a sedan chair very early this morning.”
“So now she will not come,” he said. “Well, I will see that the little strumpet does come. It looks to me as though she had arranged all this with her mother. She knows that Ximen has been given an appointment; she is anxious now that he has become powerful, and afraid he may not go to their house quite so often. So, to make sure that their relationship continues, she gets herself made his ward. Isn’t that it? Now here is some advice for you. She has persuaded the Great Lady to accept her as a ward. Tomorrow, get a few presents yourself and come here and ask the Sixth Lady to adopt you. You and she are connected through your relationship with your dead Uncle Hua, and it will be well for you to keep together. Don’t let Guijie think you are annoyed.”
“You are right,” Wu Yin’er said. “I will tell my mother as soon as I get home.”
She took the wine pot to the next guest. Yuchuan poured wine for Ying Bojue. “Sister,” he said, “this is very kind of you. Pray do not make a reverence to me. What is your sister doing at home?”
“My sister has been at home for a long time,” Yuchuan said. “She has not been out singing. Her time has been fully taken up.”
“I remember,” Bojue continued, “that I enjoyed your hospitality in the fifth month, but since then I have not seen her.”
“The other day, Uncle, you came but you would not stay. You insisted on going away early.”
“Well, as it happened,” Ying Bojue said, “there was a little dispute that day, and I had some business with your uncle. Except for that I should certainly have stayed longer.”
Yuchuan saw that Ying Bojue had finished his cup of wine and poured out another for him.
“It must be only a little,” he said, “I dare not drink any more.”
“Drink it slowly, Uncle,” the girl said, “and when you have finished, I will sing you a song.”
“Sister,” Bojue said, “you seem to do just what I would have you do. I wonder how it is. You remember the proverb that says: We do not wish our children to make water of silver, or desire that their excrement should be of gold. All we ask is that they should be ready to act as the occasion demands. There can be no doubt that a girl like you need never be anxious about her livelihood. You are much more agreeable than that little strumpet Zheng Aixiang. That piece of mischief is simply trying to get out of singing.”
“Beggar Ying, are you feeling ill?” Aixiang said. “How dare you insult me?”
“You dog,” said Ximen Qing,” you persuaded her to sing, and now you are teasing her,”
“Oh, that is all dead and done with,” Bojue said. “She is serving the wine now. I was bound to ask her to sing. Now here I have three qian of silver. I will hire the little strumpet to turn the millstone like a ghost.”
Yuchuan took up her lute and sang a short song. Then Bojue asked Ximen why he did not send for Guijie.
“She is not here today,” Ximen said.
“But I have just been told that she is singing in the inner court. Why do you tell me such a lie?”
He told Daian to go to the inner court and fetch her. Daian made no move.
“Uncle Ying,” he said, “you are mistaken. It was someone else who was singing for my mistress in the inner court.”
“You rascally young oily mouth,” Bojue cried, “so you too try to deceive me. Very well, I will go myself.”
Zhu Shinian said to Ximen Qing: “Brother, please send for Guijie and ask her to serve wine to all of us. We will not ask her to sing, for I understand she has gone up in the world.”
Ximen Qing was finally compelled to give way. He sent Daian to summon Guijie.
When the boy came to the inner court, Li Guijie was in Yueniang’s room, playing the lute and singing for the ladies there. She asked Daian who had told him to come for her.
“Father said I was to ask you to come and serve one round of wine to his guests. Then you can come straight back.”
“Mother,” Guijie said to Yueniang, “you see Father is quite mad. I told him I would not go and yet he sends for me.
“The others urged him,” Daian said. “They persuaded him to send me.” “You had better go, and serve them all with wine once, then come back,” Yueniang said.
“If it is really Father who wants me,” Guijie said, “I will go, but if it is that Beggar Ying, nothing he can do will ever persuade me, not if I live for a thousand years.” She stood before Yueniang’s mirror, repainted her face, and went to the hall.
The guests all gazed at her. Upon her head was a hairnet of silver thread; her pins and combs were gilt, and masses of pearls and emeralds were piled upon her hair. She wore a coat of “Lotus root” thread and a skirt of green satin. Her tiny feet were shod in scarlet shoes. She wore emerald pendants upon her cheeks. A strange fragrance came from her scented body.
Guijie kowtowed once towards the table, but it was carelessly done. She held a gilded fan before her face, assumed an air of modesty and dallied with her ornaments. Then she came and stood before Ximen Qing. He ordered Daian to place a chair with a cushion for her and asked her to pour a cup of wine for Master Qiao. But Qiao bowed hastily and said: “I must not trouble you, but will you not serve these other honorable gentlemen?”
“Of course she must begin with you,” Ximen said.
Guijie lightly fluttered her silken sleeves and, taking a golden cup, raised it high in the air and handed it to Qiao.
“Most worthy Qiao,” Bojue said, “pray be seated and let her stand beside you. These powdery-faced girls from the Li’s house, it is their duty to serve wine. You must not indulge them.”
“But, my dear Ying the Second,” Qiao said, “this young lady is now the daughter of our honorable host. How can I trouble her? It would embarrass me.”
“Do not worry yourself,” Bojue said; “now that our honorable host has become an officer, she is not content to be a strumpet any longer; she must be his ward.”
Guijie flushed. “Are you mad that you talk such nonsense?”
“But is this true?” Xie Xida cried. “I had heard nothing of it. Now all here, without exception, must all give five fen of silver to celebrate the occasion.”
“It is a great thing to be an officer,” Bojue interrupted. “Ever since the beginning of things people have never been afraid of officers in general, but only of thos
e with whom they come into close contact. Now his Lordship has taken her as his ward, we shall have to sprinkle water on her body to wash the filth away.”
“You talk the most arrant nonsense,” Ximen Qing cried.
“Perhaps,” Bojue returned, “but you can make an excellent knife out of barbarian iron.”
Zheng Aixiang was pouring wine for Uncle Shen. “Beggar Ying,” she said, “Sister Guijie is now his Lordship’s ward. I advise you to become his adopted son, but, if you would rather, you can doubtless assume a more ambiguous relationship.
Bojue cursed her. “You little whore! Do you wish to die? Wait till I start on you, and then you’d better say your prayers.”
“Curse him for me, Sister Aixiang,” Guijie said.
“Don’t worry about that looking-towards-Jiangnan tiger from the Ba Mountain, beshitten pants from the Eastern Hills.”
“You little strumpet,” cried Bojue. “Now you are even using the ‘Confucius said’ to curse me. I have said nothing. I am just a white ghost. I will tear the girdle that holds up your mother’s trousers. Wait until tomorrow and see if I don’t show you what I can do. Otherwise you will have no respect for me. You won’t treat the general as a god.”
“We had better not bother about him any more,” Guijie said, “Little Brother’s going to be angry.”
Aixiang smiled. “Ah, dear Beggar Ying,” she said, “you are like the devil in a cart with a lot of ugly-looking melons, so ugly that there are even none for you.”
“You little crooked bone,” Bojue said, “I can’t deal with you all at once. I shall have to give way.”
“You funny little pocketknife,” Guijie said, “nice clean lips you’ve got. You have already broken everybody else’s gums. Father, I’m surprised you don’t beat him instead of sitting there, watching his naughty tricks.”
The Golden Lotus, Volume 1 Page 53