Ximen Qing, when he came back from the office, put on plain clothes and set out on horseback. Daian and Qintong followed him. When they came to Han’s house, he dismounted and went in. Old woman Feng received him and took him into the sitting room. He sat down. Soon Wang Liu’er and her daughter came to see him. Ximen Qing did not look at the girl; he could not take his eyes from the mother. She was wearing a coat of purple silk, a scarf of black and gold upon her shoulders, and a jade-colored skirt, beneath which Ximen could see two perfect little feet. She was tall, and her face, shaped like a melon seed, had a high color.
Ximen Qing was almost beside himself. He decided that, seeing what manner of woman Han Daoguo’s wife was, it was not surprising that the young men who lived near her had been inclined to play tricks. The girl was very beautiful too, but this did not surprise him when he had seen the mother.
Wang Liu’er made a reverence to him and called her daughter forward. The girl kowtowed four times before Ximen, bowing as gracefully as a bunch of flowers before the wind. Then she rose and stood before him, and the old woman went to bring tea. Wang Liu’er rinsed the cup before she would allow the old woman to hand it to Ximen. Then Ximen looked the girl over from head to foot. The black hair was piled gracefully upon her head and her cheeks were delicately powdered. She seemed like a lonely flower, with a kind of quiet fascination. Her skin was like the purest jade, tender and fragrant.
Ximen told Daian to take from a box two silken handkerchiefs, four gold rings and twenty taels of white gold. He told the old woman to put them on a tray. From it Wang Liu’er took a ring that she set on her daughter’s finger. The girl again made reverence to Ximen Qing, and withdrew.
“In a day or two,” Ximen said, “I will ask you to bring your daughter to my house so that the necessary clothes may be prepared for her. Meanwhile, perhaps, you will be good enough to use this money to provide her with shoes and socks.”
“All that we have upon our heads and all we wear upon our feet,” Wang Liu’er said, kneeling down, “we owe to you. Now you have been kind enough to arrange this marriage for my daughter. Even if my husband and I laid down our lives, we could never sufficiently repay you for your kindness. Again I thank you for your precious gifts.”
“Is your husband not at home?” Ximen said.
“No,” the woman said, “this morning he told me what I must do in this matter, and then went to the shop. I will tell him to come and kowtow to you.”
Ximen thought that the woman talked very charmingly. She called him Father in nearly every sentence. He was touched. “I must go now,” he said, rising. “Please tell your husband what I have said.”
Wang Liu’er pressed him to stay longer, but he would not. He went straight home to report the business to Wu Yueniang.
“Really,” she said, “the marriage cord unites people, even when a thousand miles lies between them. Since you say this girl is very beautiful, we have not spent our labor in vain.”
“As soon as possible,” Ximen said, “we will bring her here so that her clothes may be made. I will take ten taels of silver at once and have them made into ornaments, rings, pins and other things.”
‘’The sooner the better,” Yueniang said, “then we will ask her father to go with her to the Eastern Capital. We need not send anyone else.”
Ximen Qing thought it would be better to close the shop for a few days and let Laibao go too. He wished, he said, to make sure that a present he had recently sent had been safely delivered.
Two or three days later Ximen sent a boy to escort the girl. Her mother, Wang Liu’er, came with her, bringing a few small presents. When they came in, they kowtowed before Yueniang and the others.
“Father and Mother,” Wang Liu’er said, “and you other ladies, I thank you for the kindness you have shown my daughter. My husband and I will be eternally grateful to you.”
They took tea in Yueniang’s room and then were entertained in the great hall. Li Jiao’er, Meng Yulou, Pan Jinlian and Li Ping’er joined them. Ximen Qing had provided rolls of red and green silk, material for undergarments, and Tailor Zhao had made two dresses of gold and silver-figured silk and a scarlet satin long gown. Wang Liu’er said a few words to reassure her daughter and went home.
Ximen bought for the girl a small suite of furniture, a gilded chest, a dressing mirror and a hand mirror, boxes, jars, and vessels of bronze and pewter, even a pail to serve a purpose we need not mention. In a few days, everything was ready; a letter was written to go with the party, and the tenth day of the ninth month appointed for the start.
Ximen borrowed four men and two non-commissioned officers from the local police office to act as escort. Han Daoguo and Laibao hired four horses, and, riding behind the wagons and the sedan chair, set off for the Eastern Capital.
Wang Liu’er was left alone. She felt very lonely as she went about her daily duties. For some days indeed, she wept nearly all the time.
One day, when Ximen Qing had nothing particular to do, he mounted his horse and rode down to Lion Street to see what was happening at the house there. Old woman Feng met him and brought him tea.
“I was very satisfied with the way you managed that little business the other day,” he said. “Here is a tael of silver for you to buy some cloth.” The old woman kowtowed and thanked him.
“Have you been to Han’s house lately?” Ximen said.
“Oh yes,” the old woman said, “I go every day to cheer up his wife. Now that her daughter has gone she is all by herself. She has never been separated from the girl before, and until the last day or two, she has been crying all the time. ‘You have been to a good deal of trouble over my daughter’s marriage,’ she said to me. ‘Has his Lordship given you your fee?’ I told her you had been very busy, and I had thought it better not to trouble you. I said I knew it would be safe to wait, and, doubtless, when her husband returned, there would be something coming to me from that quarter.”
“Of course that will be so,” Ximen said. He looked cautiously around. Seeing there was no one about, he whispered: “When you have an opportunity, just let her know that I should very much like to call and see her. Tomorrow tell me what she says about it.”
The old woman put her hand over her mouth and chuckled knowingly. “Now that your shovel has dug you up a golden baby, you want to dig again and find the mother. Well, this very evening, I’ll see if I can do anything for you. I suppose you know who she is? She is a sister of Butcher Wang in the back street, the sixth of her family, and about twenty-nine years old. She dresses in smart clothes and may look rather forward, but, to the best of my knowledge, she is virtuous. If you like to come here tomorrow, I will see if I can’t have some news for you.” Ximen agreed, mounted his horse, and rode home.
When old woman Feng had dined, she locked up the house and set out to see the woman. Wang Liu’er opened the door and asked her to go in. “I cooked some noodles for you yesterday, and waited,” she said, “but you never came.”
“I meant to come,” the old woman said, “but I was obliged to go and see someone else. What with one thing and another, I couldn’t manage to get here.”
“Well,” Wang Liu’er said, “I have a rough meal ready. Will you have something?”
The old woman said she had just had dinner, and would have nothing but a cup of tea. Wang Liu’er made a cup of strong tea for her and ate her own dinner while the old woman sat and watched her.
“I feel very lonely,” the woman said. “Always before, I have had my child to fall back upon. Now she has gone the place seems empty, and I have to do everything for myself. My face gets dirty, and everything is horrid. I’d rather die than live like this. She has gone so far away, and if I want to go and see her, I can’t. How can I help being upset?” She began to cry.
“It has always been the same,” old woman Feng said. “When there are boys in a family, it is always busy, but with girls, it is always lonely. For a girl, if she lives long enough, sooner or later will leave the home and go el
sewhere. Things seem bad to you now, but you must remember that, when your daughter settles down in that palace and has borne a son or even a daughter, you and your husband will reap the benefit. When that time comes, you will have nothing to complain of.”
“In families of rank,” Wang Liu’er said, sadly, “there are always ups and downs. How can we ever say what will happen? Even if she prospers, how am I to know where my bones will be rotting, when that time comes?”
“Oh, don’t talk like that,” the old woman cried. “Your daughter is certainly not a bigger fool than anybody else. She is a clever needlewoman, and everybody has the fortune that is his due. There is nothing for you to worry about.”
They chatted for a long time in this strain, and at last the old woman decided to broach more serious matters. “I hope you won’t think I’m talking nonsense,” she said, “but now that your husband is away, don’t you feel lonely during the night?”
“Do you ask that?” Wang Liu’er cried. “Why, you’re the very one who has made me so. Indeed, since you are responsible, I am expecting you to come and keep me company in the evenings.”
“I’m afraid I can hardly do so,” the old woman said, “but perhaps I know someone who can. You may not care about it, though.”
“Whom do you mean?” Wang Liu’er said.
Old woman Feng put her hand before her mouth and laughed. “One host suffices for a single guest,” she said. “I mean our master. Yesterday, he came to see me, and said you must be very lonely now that your daughter has gone away, and he would like to come and try to console you. What do you think? No one else is concerned in the matter, and if you are kind to him, you need never worry again about a livelihood. Indeed, if he comes often, he will probably buy you a house, and you will find it much more pleasant than living in a hole like this.”
Wang Liu’er smiled. “He has already many ladies of his own, beautiful enough to be the wives of the gods. What can he want from an ugly thing like me?”
“You must not say that,” the old woman said. “There is an old proverb that says: Beauty springeth from the lover’s eyes. Fate has decided this for you. If he had not taken a fancy to you he would not have come to see me yesterday. He gave me a tael of silver, and said it was for arranging your daughter’s marriage. Then, seeing there was no one to hear him, he spoke to me about yourself, and now he is only waiting for your answer. After all, it is like selling a field: a piece of business that depends solely on the will of the two parties concerned. It has nothing to do with me.”
“Well,” the woman said, “if he would really like to come, tell him I shall expect him tomorrow.”
Old woman Feng, now that she had gained her point, stayed a little longer and then took her leave. The next day Ximen came again to see her and she told him the result of her visit. He was delighted and gave her another tael of silver to buy wine and food.
When Wang Liu’er knew that Ximen was coming, she swept out her room, burned fragrant incense, set clean hangings around the bed, and prepared some special tea. Old woman Feng came first, with a basket full of fresh vegetables and fruits. She went into the kitchen to prepare them. Wang Liu’er washed her hands, cleaned her nails and prepared some food. In the sitting room, she scrubbed and cleaned the tables and chairs till they shone.
It was afternoon when Ximen Qing came, dressed in his civilian clothes, and wearing shades upon his eyes. Daian and Qitong followed him. When Ximen had dismounted, he gave orders that the horses should be taken to the house in Lion Street and brought again that evening. He only kept Daian with him. Wang Liu’er, exquisitely dressed, came to the sitting room to welcome him.
“It was very kind of you to take so much trouble over my daughter’s wedding,” she said. “It is hard for me to find words to express my gratitude.”
“Not at all,” Ximen said politely, “I must ask you and your husband to pardon me for what I failed to do.”
“What complaint could we possibly make,” the woman said, “since everyone in our household is so much in your debt?” She kowtowed to him four times. Old woman Feng brought tea, and Wang Liu’er handed it to Ximen Qing. Meanwhile Daian saw the horses taken away, and bolted the gate.
Ximen Qing and the woman sat for a while, and at last she invited him to go and see her own room. The windows and doors were papered; there were a long bed and a few chests. On the wall were four pieces of tapestry that depicted Zhang Sheng meeting with Ying Ying, and bees and flowers. There were tables and tea tables, large mirrors and small, boxes and pewter, all set out in their proper places. A stick of incense was burning. In the place of honor was a chair, in which Ximen Qing sat down, while the woman again prepared some tea with walnuts and offered it to him, taking the cup when he had finished it.
Wang Liu’er sat down on the edge of the bed and chatted about matters of no particular importance. Ximen saw that she brought in all the trays herself.
“You ought to have someone to wait on you,” he said.
“Ah,” the woman said, “now my daughter has gone, things are certainly difficult. I have to do everything myself.”
“You must not put yourself out,” Ximen said. “I will arrange with old woman Feng to find a girl about thirteen or fourteen years old for you. She may be able to save you a little.”
Wang Liu’er suggested that she must wait until her husband came back, but Ximen hastily assured her that not only would he make all the arrangements, but he would also pay the expenses.
“Have I not troubled you enough already?” the woman said.
Ximen Qing was delighted to discover how intelligent the woman seemed. When old woman Feng came in to set the table, he spoke to her about the girl.
“You must thank his Lordship,” the old woman said. “Sister Jiao, down in the South of the city, has just the girl you need, thirteen years old, and she only asks four taels for her. In my opinion, that is the girl you should ask his Lordship to buy for you.”
Wang Liu’er bowed to Ximen. Then the food was brought, and the wine heated. She poured out a full cup of wine and presented it to him with both hands. She was about to kneel before him, but he would not allow this.
“You have already made one reverence to me,” he said; “there is no need for you to repeat it.”
The woman smiled, and sat down upon a small bench. Old woman Feng brought the dishes from the kitchen, one by one, and finally a kind of savory paste. Wang Liu’er selected the tastiest morsels of meat, took some of the vegetables, rolled them up in the paste and handed the roll to Ximen on a small plate. They passed their wine cups to one another and drank together. Meanwhile old woman Feng offered Daian a chair in the kitchen, and saw that he was well fed.
When they had taken a few cups together, the woman moved her seat nearer to Ximen’s, and they passed their wine from mouth to mouth. After making sure that there was no one about, Ximen threw his arms around her, kissed her and caressed her tongue with his own. She took the jade scepter into her hand. Their passions were stirred into flame. They drank no more, but saw to the fastenings upon the door. Then both took off their clothes, and the woman prepared the coverlets upon the bed. It was the hour before sunset. The wine had set Ximen Qing on fire. He took the silver clasp from its case, and put it in position, while the woman fondly touched him with her slender hands. She thought his weapon looked magnificent; the veins swelled with dark red blood, and the flesh was firm and powerful. She sat on his knees; they threw their arms around each other’s necks, and kissed again. Then she raised one of her legs, and, with her hand, helped that sword to find its scabbard. For a while they jousted together. Ximen Qing allowed his hands to wander over the woman’s body. It was very soft but firm. The hair was fine and delicate. Eventually he told her to lie on the bed; he pulled her legs around his body and threw himself fiercely into the struggle.
The god of battle now holds sway over the green-clad bed.
The coverlets, with silk-embroidered love birds, feel the press of strife.
Heroes display their prowess on the coral pillows
Striving for victory within the silken curtains.
The hero dashes madly to the fray, plunges his spear with fury home.
The heroine’s heart beats wildly. She yawns and gapes and fain would all devour him.
Then up he brings his pair of culverins, and lets them loose upon the enemy skulking in the trousers.
The other raises her shield to meet the mad attack of the great general stationed beneath the navel.
One plays the golden cockerel, standing on single leg, raising the other high, to show his mettle
The other, like a stripped tree, with roots that spread in all directions, thrusts forth to meet the foe.
When they have fought a while, the shining eyes are dimmed
A single movement makes them squirm and quiver.
Though their limbs tremble, they still fight on
Clashing a hundred times, they cannot break away,
Then, letting loose the dam, the captain of the scanty hair would drown his enemy in the flood.
The general in black armor feigns to make a thrust, but turns aside and seeks to fly.
The warden of the navel is unhorsed, thrown down and ground to dust in but a moment.
Lord “warm and tight” now plays the fool, tumbling he falls to the far depths of the abyss.
The heavy mail is broken into pieces, like faded blossoms when the storm breaks on them
The silken cap gives way beneath the strain, like fallen leaves before the raging winds
And Marshal “sulfurous,” his crest awry, can find no place to flee.
Prince “Silver Armor” holds his ground, and swears he’ll stand till death.
The Golden Lotus, Volume 1 Page 62