The Golden Lotus, Volume 1

by Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng

  Ximen Qing scolded him. “You dog, I asked her to come and pour wine, and you have no business to make game of her.” He went over and slapped Ying Bojue.

  “You thievish little strumpet. You simply depend upon your father’s authority. Do you think I am afraid of you? Look at you, the heartfelt way you call him ‘Father.’” Then he added: “Don’t let her pass the wine. It is too good a job for her. Let us have the musical instruments and she shall sing a song for us. She has spent quite long enough in the inner court.”

  “Uncle,” Yuchuan said, “you are like the soldier who came from Caozhou, managing everything the way you do.”

  So they drank wine and played and joked together.

  After the birth of a son to Li Ping’er, Jinlian saw that Ximen Qing always slept in the Sixth Lady’s apartments. She could not rid herself of her jealousy, and constantly thought of revenge. today she knew that Ximen Qing was entertaining guests in the front hall, and she stood before her toilet table painting her moth-like eyebrows carefully, dressing and redressing her hair, and putting a touch of color on her lips. Then she arranged her dress and went out from her room. As she passed Li Ping’er’s room, she heard the baby crying. She went in and asked what was the matter with him.

  “His mother has gone to the inner court,” the nurse, Ruyi’er, said. “He wants her, and cries.”

  Jinlian smiled, went forward, and patted the baby.

  “You are a real little man already,” she said, “wanting your mother even at your age. Let us go to the inner court to find her.”

  “Fifth Mother,” Ruyi’er said, “you had better not take him. He will make your clothes dirty.”

  Nonsense,” Jinlian said, “I will put some more clothes on. It will be no trouble at all.” She took the child to her breast, and went off with him to the inner court. When she reached the second door, she lifted him high in the air. Yueniang was sitting underneath the eaves, watching the maids and women cooking and changing the dishes. Jinlian looked at the baby, and smiled.

  “Mother,” she said, “what are you doing? The baby has come to look for his mother.”

  Yueniang looked at him. “Fifth Sister,” she said, “what are you thinking about? His mother was not in her room, but you should not have brought him out. And why carry him up in the air like that? He will be frightened. His mother is inside, busy.” She called to Li Ping’er and told her that her son had come to see her.

  Li Ping’er hastily came out. When she saw Jinlian with the child, she said: “Oh, baby, you were quite happy with your nurse. Why should you want me? You will make your Fifth Mother’s clothes dirty.”

  “He was crying,” Jinlian said. “He wanted you, so I brought him along.”

  Li Ping’er opened her clothes and took the child. For a while, Yueniang played with him. Then she told his mother to take him to her own room, and be careful lest he should be frightened.

  When Li Ping’er came to her own room, she said to Ruyi’er: “If the baby was crying, you should have done something to keep him quiet, and waited for me to come. Why did you get the Fifth Lady to bring him to the inner court?”

  “I told her she should not do so,” Ruyi’er said, “but she would not listen to me.”

  Li Ping’er watched the nurse feeding the child, and at last he went to sleep. Before he had been asleep very long, he woke from his dreams with a cry. In the middle of the night, he seemed first hot and then cold, and refused to take his nurse’s milk. He would do nothing but cry, and Li Ping’er was alarmed about him.

  When the party in the front court was over, Ximen Qing dismissed the four singers. Yueniang gave Guijie a dress of heavy silk and two taels of silver.

  During the evening, Ximen Qing went to the rooms of Li Ping’er to see his son. The child was crying, but when he asked the reason, Li Ping’er did not tell him that Jinlian had taken him to the inner court.

  “I don’t know,” she said, “what has made him cry and refuse to take his milk.”

  “Give him a few gentle pats,” Ximen said. “That will make him sleep.” Then he scolded the nurse. “You have not been careful enough of him. What have you been thinking about? You must have frightened him.”

  He went to the inner court to tell Yueniang. She, too, realized that the child had been frightened when Jinlian brought him to her room, yet she did not breathe a word of this to her husband. “I will send for old woman Liu tomorrow,” she said, “she can look at him.”

  “You mustn’t think of sending for that old rogue,” Ximen said, “she will use the needle and the flame without hesitating. We must get the royal children’s doctor to come and examine him.”

  Yueniang did not agree. “The child is only a month old,” she said. “A doctor can’t do him any good.”

  The next day, Ximen Qing went to his office and Yueniang told one of the boys to go for old woman Liu. The old woman said that the child had had a fright, and they gave her three qian of silver to make some soothing medicine for him. When he had taken the medicine, the boy slept quietly and kept down his milk. Li Ping’er smiled as though she felt like a stone that has come to rest at last upon the ground.

  CHAPTER 33

  Han Daoguo and His Wife

  As soon as Ximen Qing reached home, he hurried to Wu Yueniang to ask if his little son was better. The doctor must be sent for at once, he said. But Yueniang told him that it was not necessary. She had sent for old woman Liu, and the baby, now that he had taken the medicine she had prepared, was sleeping peacefully and able to retain his food.

  “I can’t understand your faith in that old hag,” Ximen cried. “She is far too ready with her lancings and cauteries. We ought to have the specialist who attends the children of the Royal House. If the child really is better, well and good, but if he is not, I’ll have that old woman at the court and let her fingers feel the screws.”

  “How unreasonable you are with your scoldings and threats,” Yueniang said. “I tell you the baby is much better now that he has taken her medicine. Why do you make all this fuss?”

  A maid brought something to eat, and Ximen Qing was finishing it when Daian said that Ying Bojue had come. Ximen told one of the boys to take tea to the arbor and said he would join his friend there. He asked Yueniang to have the remaining dishes sent out to them. He sent for Chen Jingji to keep them company, saying that he himself would be there in a moment.

  “Where did Ying the Second go for you yesterday, and what has brought him here again today?” Yueniang said.

  Ximen told her. “Brother Ying knows a stranger from Huzhou called He who has five hundred taels’ worth of raw silk and thread at an inn outside the city gate. He is in a hurry to go home and is prepared to sell his goods cheaply. I offered to pay four hundred and fifty taels and sent Laibao with Ying yesterday to let him see two bars of my silver as samples. The business was settled, and we are to pay for the goods today. The house in Lion Street is empty, and I propose to take two rooms on the street, set them in order, and open a shop there. Now that Laibao has got this appointment in Duke Yun’s palace, I must look out for another manager, and arrange for him and one of the boys to keep the shop and look after the house at the same time.”

  Wu Yueniang agreed. Ximen said: “Brother Ying says he has a friend called Han who knows all there is to know about the thread business, but he has no money of his own and, for the moment, is out of work. Brother Ying says he is a capable business man, honest and straightforward; in fact, he recommends him very strongly. He is going to bring Han to see me, and we will fix up a contract.”

  He weighed the four hundred and fifty taels of silver and told Laibao to take them. Meanwhile Chen Jingji and Ying Bojue finished their meal in the arbor in a state of anxious impatience. They felt much happier when they saw the silver on the way. When Ximen Qing came, Bojue made a reverence to him and apologized for being late. He said that, after enjoying such hospitality the day before, he had found it hard to get up that morning.

  “Well,” Ximen s
aid, “here are the four hundred and fifty taels. Laibao shall put them into a big sack. This is a day of happy omen, and I will hire a cart to bring back the goods, and put them away safely.”

  “You are very wise, Brother,” Bojue said. “If we waste any time, I shouldn’t be surprised to find that shifty fellow playing a trick on us. But if we get the stuff away, all will be well.”

  He and Laibao mounted their horses and went with the silver to the stranger’s inn, and completed the transaction. As a matter of fact, Ying Bojue had made an arrangement of his own with He that the actual price should be four hundred and twenty taels, so that he got thirty taels for himself. He shared with Laibao the regular commission of five taels. They hired a cart and brought the merchandise to the city. They stored everything in the empty house in Lion Street, locked the door, and returned to give an account to Ximen Qing, who told Bojue to bring Han to see him on the next auspicious day.

  Han was a short man, about thirty years of age, unguarded of speech and of a lively temperament. When Ximen Qing had made a contract with him, he and Laibao were given some money to engage workers to dye the thread. When everything was ready, the shop in Lion Street was opened, and there they dealt in threads of many colors, selling considerable quantities every day.

  The time passed quickly. The sun and moon crossed and recrossed like the shuttles of a weaver. It was the fifteenth day of the eighth month, Wu Yueniang’s birthday. A number of ladies had been invited, and Aunt Wu, Aunt Yang and old woman Pan were there. Two nuns were among the guests, and at night they used to recite the Buddhist scriptures for the edification of the others, continuing till the second or third night watch.

  Ximen Qing, hearing that Aunt Wu was in Yueniang’s room, did not go there, but to the apartments of Li Ping’er. She told him she was still anxious about the child, and suggested that he should go to Pan Jinlian instead. Ximen smiled, said he did not wish to be a nuisance, and did as he was told.

  When Jinlian found her husband was coming, she was delighted. She might have discovered a hidden treasure. She hurriedly packed off her mother to sleep in one of the rooms belonging to Li Ping’er, lighted the silver lamp, delicately spread and smoothed the silken bedclothes, and perfumed her body daintily. She made the most intimate of preparations and awaited her master’s pleasure.

  That night they took their pleasure to the full. Jinlian was determined to gain possession of her husband’s heart, so that he should go no more to the rooms of the others. He was like a wandering bee, stretching forth his proboscis among the tender petals that the winds of spring bestirred, or a flower-devouring butterfly, reveling by night within the deepest recesses of the blossoms.

  When old woman Pan came, Li Ping’er asked her to come and sit on the bed, and told Yingchun to bring some refreshments. They talked till the night was late, and, the next morning, she gave the old lady a gown of white silk, two pieces of satin with which to make shoes, and a small sum of money. The old woman smiled and beamed delightedly. She took the things and showed them to her daughter. Jinlian said: “Mother, your eyes are too small and your skin too thin. How can you take gifts from her?”

  “My good child,” the old woman said, “other people are sorry for me and give me things. Why should you talk like this? What do you ever give me?”

  “I have nothing to give you,” Jinlian said. “You cannot compare me with the others. How can I possibly give you clothes when I have none to wear myself? But you go and accept favors from outsiders, and I shall have to get something ready—a few dishes and some wine, I suppose—and send them in return. If I don’t, something will be said, and I can’t have that.”

  She told Chunmei to prepare eight dishes, four boxes of fruits, and a jar of wine; then, seeing that Ximen Qing had gone, she ordered Qiuju to put them on a square tray and take them to Li Ping’er. “My mother and my grandmother,” she was to say, “have nothing to do at the moment and would very much like to come and take wine with you.”

  Li Ping’er thanked her, and, in a few moments, Jinlian and old woman Pan came. When all three had taken their places, the wine was poured out and they talked together while Chunmei stood at hand to serve them.

  Suddenly Qiuju came. “Brother-in-law is trying to find some clothes,” she said to Chunmei. “He wants you to go and open the door of the room upstairs.”

  “When he has found the clothes,” Jinlian said, “ask him to come here and take a cup of wine with us.”

  But when Chen Jingji had taken the clothes he wanted—they belonged to several different people—he hurried away, and Chunmei had to return to tell Jinlian that he would not come.

  “He must come,” the woman cried. She sent one of the maids for him. At last he did come and made a reverence to them.

  Jinlian scolded him. “I was kind enough to send and invite you to take wine with us. Why wouldn’t you come? Your luck will fail you.” She told Chunmei to bring Jingji a large cup of wine. He put the clothes on the bed and sat down. Chunmei thought she would play a trick on him and brought a large bowl such as is used for tea and filled it to the brim with wine. Jingji was taken aback.

  “Fifth Mother,” he said, “if you insist upon my taking wine with you, I should much prefer a small cup. There are several people in the shop waiting for their clothes.”

  “Let them wait,” Jinlian said. “I insist upon your drinking this large cup. A small cup will not do at all.”

  “Let our brother off with this one cup,” old woman Pan said. “Perhaps his business is pressing.”

  “Don’t believe a word he says,” Jinlian cried. “What does he mean by being busy? He can drink good wine. If we gave him a pail of gold, he would drink it down to the second rib.”

  Jingji laughed and took the cup. Before he had drunk three mouthfuls, the old woman said to Chunmei: “Give your brother a pair of chopsticks. We can’t have him drinking ‘widow’ wine.”

  Chunmei did not give him the chopsticks but, as a joke, took a couple of walnuts from the box and handed them to him.

  “You think I can’t crack them, do you?” he said, laughing, and putting them in his mouth, he broke them with one bite and ate them with his wine.

  “You seem to have very good teeth still, young man,” old woman Pan said, “I can’t eat things that are at all hard, myself.”

  “There are only two things I can’t eat,” Jingji said: “stones like goose’s eggs and ox horns.”

  Jinlian saw that he had finished his wine and told Chunmei to give him another cup. “The first cup was of my offering,” said she. “You can’t consider my mother and the Sixth Lady of less importance than myself. I don’t wish to make you drink too much, so drink three cups and I will let you go.”

  “Really, Fifth Mother,” Jingji said, “you must have mercy on me. I can’t possibly drink any more. This cup I have already taken has made my face so red that I am afraid Father will be angry when he sees me.”

  “Are you afraid of your father?” Jinlian said. “I think not. By the way, where is he taking wine today?”

  “He went to Master Wu’s house this afternoon,” Jingji said, “but now he is looking after the alterations that are being made in the house which used to belong to the Qiaos.”

  “They moved yesterday, didn’t they?” Jinlian said. “Why haven’t we sent them a present of tea?” Jingji told her that the tea had been sent that morning. Then Li Ping’er asked where they had gone. Jingji said that they had bought a very large house, as large in fact as Ximen’s own, in the High Street. It had a frontage to the street of seven rooms and was five rooms deep. They went on talking and Jingji held his nose and swallowed another cup. Then, while Jinlian had her head turned away for a moment, he snatched the clothes from the bed and vanished like a cloud of smoke.

  “Mother,” Yingchun said, “he has gone off and forgotten to take the key.” Jinlian took it and put it beneath her. “When he comes back to look for it,” she said to Li Ping’er, “don’t say a word. We will have some fun with
him before I give it back.”

  “Don’t tease him, Sister,” old woman Pan said. “Give it to him.”

  Chen Jingji went back to the shop. He searched his sleeves and, of course, could not find the key. Finally he went back to Jinlian’s room.

  “Who’s seen your old key?” she said. “What are you thinking about, putting it somewhere and then forgetting where you put it?”

  “You must have left it in the room upstairs,” Chunmei said.

  “No,” Jingji said, “I remember having it here.”

  “Ah, young man,” Jinlian said, “the trouble with you is that a certain part of you is so large that you lose your brains when you really mean to get rid of something quite different. I wonder who it is, here or elsewhere, who makes you so absent-minded that your intelligence has got completely out of place.”

  “There are customers waiting for their clothes,” Jingji said distractedly. “What shall I do? Father is not here, and I shall have to go and get a locksmith to force the door. Then we shall find out whether I left the key inside or not.”

  Li Ping’er could not help laughing. “Sixth Mother,” Jingji cried, “you’ve picked it up. Do give it to me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re laughing about,” Jinlian said. “You make it look as though we had his keys.” Jingji became as excited as an ox prancing around a millstone. He looked at Jinlian and caught sight of the key string sticking out from beneath her.

  “There’s my key,” he cried, but, before he could take it, she whipped it into her sleeve. She still refused to give it up.

  “How can I possibly have your key?” she said. The young man was all of a flutter, like a chicken about to be killed stretching out its legs.

  “They tell me,” Jinlian said, “that you have a very sweet voice, and that you often sing for the boys in the shop. Why shouldn’t you sing a song for me? Grandmother and the Sixth Lady are here, so you had better choose one of the latest and best. Then you shall have your key. If you will not sing, you may jump as far as the White Pagoda, but nothing shall induce me to give it to you.”