The Golden Lotus, Volume 1

by Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng

  The skies are hidden by a sad dark cloud

  The warriors roll stricken on the field.

  Wang Liu’er liked one game more than any other. When she had joined with him as lovers do, she wanted him to enjoy the flower in her bottom while she played with the flower in her womb. Satisfied in this way, she reached the blissful oblivion that is the aim of lovers. She used to practice this game so often that in thirty days Han Daoguo would take his pleasure at the front gate no more than three times. Apart from this, she titillated his ivory scepter with her lips and fondled it all night with never-failing desire; if its master flagged, her lips returned his strength.

  Nothing could have given Ximen Qing greater pleasure. All that day they played, till the watchman gave his first warning. Then he went home.

  Before Ximen left her, Wang Liu’er asked him to come again the next day, and to come early. She promised that if he did so, he should not go away unsatisfied. Ximen could have asked for nothing better.

  The next day he went to the thread shop in Lion Street, and took four taels of silver. These he gave to old woman Feng, and told her to purchase the maid. Two days later, Ximen, who could not forget the sweetness of his last visit, went again to visit Wang Liu’er. Qitong and Daian went with him. When they reached the house, he told Qitong to take his horse to Lion Street. Old woman Feng came to attend to the wine and other things, and set them out. By such small services as these, she hoped to enrich her belly with oil and vegetables.

  This time, Ximen Qing gave to Wang Liu’er a few taels of silver for household expenses. It was day when he arrived, and night when he went away. Not one word of the matter did he mention to any member of his own household.

  Old woman Feng went every day to work for Wang Liu’er, so she seldom had time to go to Ximen Qing’s house. Li Ping’er sent a boy two or three times to summon her, but she was far too busy to come. Often, indeed, she locked her door and stayed out all day. One day, Huatong ran across her in the street and made her go with him to Li Ping’er.

  “Now, old woman,” her mistress said, “for some days I have not seen even your shadow; what game is this you’re playing? Every time I have sent after you, you have been out. It looks as if you didn’t wish to come. Here I have been, as busy as could be, with a pile of clothes and the baby’s bed-clothes, all waiting for you to come and help the maids to wash them. And you never came.”

  “It is easy for you to talk, my lady,” the old woman said, “but I have been like a scrivener running after a deserter. I am as busy as anybody can be. One day I seem to be a salt seller, and the next I have to turn myself into a carpenter. I don’t have a moment.”

  “It is all very well,” Li Ping’er said. “When I ask you to come, you say you are too busy, but I should like to know where you have been earning your daily bread these last few days.”

  “I am like a vase whose ears the wind has blown away; it can’t get them back with its mouth.* I have not earned anything. You are angry with me, I see, but I simply have not had a chance to come and see you. I have been too busy to know where I am. The other day, the Great Lady gave me some money to buy her a cushion for her prayers, and I forgot all about it. When I did remember, yesterday, the rogue of a cushion seller had taken himself off, and I don’t know what to say to her.”

  “Do you mean to say you have come without the cushion?” Li Ping’er said. “I should advise you to see if you can’t find some monkey to run off with you. She gives you the money; you come empty-handed, and then pretend you don’t know what you’re about.”

  “I am going to give the Great Lady her money back,” the old woman said. “Yesterday I went for a ride on a donkey and nearly fell off.”

  “If it happens again,” said Li Ping’er, “you will certainly be killed.”

  Old woman Feng went to the inner court to see Wu Yueniang, but first she called at the kitchen. Yuxiao and Laixing’s wife were sitting together. When they saw her, one of them said: “Why, here is old woman Feng! Well, honorable madam, and where have you been? The Sixth Lady is ready to eat you up.”

  The old woman greeted them. “I have just come from her,” she said, “and a nice to-do she made.”

  “My mistress wants to know whether you have bought her cushion,” Yuxiao said.

  “Yesterday,” the old woman said, “I took the money and went outside the city, but the cushion seller had sold his stock and gone home. He will not be here again before the third month next year. Here is the silver. Please take it, Sister.”

  “You marvelous old woman,” Yuxiao said. “At the moment our master is weighing some silver. When he has gone, you had better see our mistress for yourself. Meanwhile, please sit down. By the way, it seems a long time since Han went off with that daughter of his. He ought to be back now, surely. When he does come, you will be in luck. He will certainly have to give you something.”

  “Something or nothing,” the old woman said, “that is his concern. But he has only been gone about eight days. I don’t see how he can be back before the end of the month.”

  Ximen Qing finished weighing the silver and gave it to Ben the Fourth to spend on the estate. Then he went out, and the old woman went to the upper room to see Wu Yueniang. She did not produce the money but said that the cushions which the merchant had were not good enough. The better ones were sold, and he had gone home to fetch some of an especially good quality. Yueniang was simple and unsuspecting. She said: “That is all right. Keep the money and bring me two cushions next year.” She gave the old woman some cakes and old Feng then went back to see Li Ping’er.

  “Did the Great Lady scold you?” Li Ping’er said.

  “No,” said the old woman. “I told her something that made her very happy and she gave me some tea and a few cakes.”

  “The cakes have come from the Qiao family,” Li Ping’er said. “It was the day of the first full month for them yesterday. Well, old woman, your mouth has been stopped. You are like the mosquitoes that come in the fourth month, those that have such a deadly bite. Anyhow, now you are here, you must stay and wash some clothes for me.”

  “Put the things in soak,” the old woman said, “and I will come early tomorrow. This afternoon, I have to go and do some business for a very special client of mine.”

  “Oh, you old rogue,” Li Ping’er said, “you always find some excuse. If you do not turn up tomorrow, you shall see what happens.”

  The old woman laughed. She stayed a little longer talking with Li Ping’er, and then prepared to go. Her mistress asked her if she would have some food before she went, but she said she was not hungry, and would not stay. Really, she was wondering whether Ximen Qing might not be going to see Wang Liu’er, and she scuttled away as fast as her old legs would carry her.

  Footnote

  * i.e. I am not in a position to argue with you.

  CHAPTER 38

  Pan Jinlian Is Melancholy

  When old woman Feng came to the door beside the great hall, Daian was standing there with a tea tray in his hands, waiting. He looked at the old woman, made a face and said: “You go first. We shall start as soon as Father has finished talking to Uncle Ying. Qitong has already gone with the wine.” The old woman quickened her pace and hurried away.

  Ying Bojue had come to say that Li Zhi and Huang the Fourth, the contractors, had secured orders for the provision of thirty thousand lots of incense and wax for the annual contribution to the Emperor, in value about ten thousand taels. “Of course, there will be interest,” he said, “and they are to be paid the money in Dongpingfu when the contract is completed. I have come to see what you think about it, and whether you would like to take a hand.”

  “Why should I?” Ximen said. “These contractors are all rogues. They will bribe the officials so as to get some advantage for themselves. Now that I am an official myself, I must not get mixed up in affairs of that sort.”

  “Brother,” Ying Bojue said, “if you feel you cannot, I must ask somebody else. But I venture to as
k you to lend two thousand taels, with interest at five per cent. to be paid monthly, and the capital to be repaid when they get their money. What do you say to that?”

  “Since it is you who come to ask,” Ximen said, “I think I might manage a thousand taels for them, but I am spending a great deal of money on my estate and have not much to spare.”

  Ying Bojue, seeing that his friend showed less disinclination in this matter, said: “If you can manage it, why not add five hundred more and make it fifteen hundred? They will not dare to be late with their payments.”

  “If they are late,” Ximen said, “I shall know how to deal with them. Just one word, Brother Ying. If I let them have this money, I won’t have them going here there and everywhere, using my name and doing dirty work under my banner. If I hear of anything of that sort, they will discover that the local jail is a most uncomfortable lodging.”

  “You should not say that, Brother,” Ying Bojue said. “If they have responsibilities, they must carry them out. If they go about using your name, it will be all right for them, but if they do anything wrong, what shall I do? Please do not think any more about that, Brother. If there is anything wrong, I will answer for it. Now that you have made up your mind, I will bring them tomorrow to sign the document.”

  “Don’t bring them tomorrow,” Ximen Qing said, “I shall be busy. The day after will be more convenient.”

  Bojue went away, and Ximen Qing told Daian to saddle his horse. He put on his eyeshades and asked if Qitong had gone. “He came and took the net for the wine jar and went off with it,” Daian said. He helped Ximen Qing on to his horse, and they set out for Ox-hide Alley.

  One day Han the Second, Han Daoguo’s younger brother, the ne’erdo-well, lost all his money gambling, drank till his eyes almost came out of his head, and then went to his brother’s house to ask Wang Liu’er to give him some more wine. He took some little sausages from his sleeve and said: “Sister-in-law, my brother is away and I am going to drink a jar of wine with you.”

  The woman was afraid. She knew Ximen Qing was coming, and old woman Feng was in the kitchen. She would have nothing to do with him.

  “I’m not going to drink,” she said. “If you wish to, go and drink by yourself. I have no patience with you. Your brother is not at home. Why do you come here and bother me?”

  Han the Second glared with his greedy eyes and refused to go away. Then, underneath the table, he saw a jar of wine, sealed and with a label of red paper. “Sister-in-law,” he said, “where did you get that wine? Open it and have a pot warmed for me. You know how to enjoy yourself.”

  “You must not touch it,” Wang Liu’er cried, “it came from the Master’s. Your brother has not seen it yet, but when he comes back, you shall certainly have some of it.”

  “Why should I wait for my brother?” Han the Second cried. “I don’t care if it belongs to the Emperor. I am going to have a cup.”

  He was going to remove the seal, but the woman snatched it out of his hand, and took it to her room. As she did so, she pushed Han the Second, and he fell to the ground, his face upturned to the skies. He had considerable difficulty in getting to his feet again, and his shame was turned to anger.

  “You thievish whore!” he mumbled. “I am kind to you and bring you something to eat. I remember that you are lonely and come to have a drink with you. But instead of taking any interest in me, you knock me down. Let me tell you this. Don’t you get on any high horse. I know you have a rich lover. That is why you won’t have anything to do with me. You want to get me out of the way, so you insult me and push me about. You took very good care not to let me know. If you had done, you worthless wretch, you would have seen my knife go in white and come out red.”

  When Wang Liu’er heard him talking so unpleasantly, the color came into her cheeks and spread from her ears until her whole face was crimson. She took a dolly pin in her hand, beat him, and cursed him. “You starving thief! Where did you get drunk before coming here to spread your wild fire? I will never forgive you.” Han the Second, mumbling and calling her evil names, finally went out, still cursing.

  At that moment, Ximen Qing arrived. He saw what happened and asked who the man was. “Who is he, indeed?” Wang Liu’er cried. “Why, that Han the Second. He knew his brother was not at home, so when he had lost his money gambling, he got drunk and came here to knock me about. His brother often had to give him a thrashing when he was here.”

  When Han the Second saw Ximen Qing, he was off like a streak of smoke.

  “The beggar!” Ximen Qing said, “tomorrow I will give him a little moral instruction at my office.”

  “I am sorry he made you angry,” Wang Liu’er said.

  “You don’t know,” Ximen said. “With fellows like that, one must not be too indulgent.”

  “You are right,” the woman said, “it never pays to be generous with some people.”

  She asked Ximen Qing to go in and sit down. He told Qitong to take back his horse, and said to Daian: “You stand at the door, and, if you see even so much as that rascal’s shadow, tie him up, and I’ll have him before me at the office tomorrow.”

  “When he knows you are here,” Daian said, “his spirit will not know where to hide itself.”

  Ximen Qing sat down, and Wang Liu’er made a reverence to him. Then she bade her young maid bring some tea with nuts for him. She told the girl to kowtow.

  “She seems a good girl,” Ximen said. “You must use her as you think fit.” Then he added: “Old woman Feng is here. Why doesn’t she bring the tea?”

  “The old lady is in the kitchen,” Wang Liu’er said. “She is doing some work I told her to do, and busy at the moment.”

  “That wine I told a boy to bring you,” Ximen said, “was presented to me by a eunuch. It is ‘Bamboo Leaves’ wine, which has a good many drugs mixed with it and is very potent. The other day I found that the wine you have is not good enough for me, and so I sent this jar.”

  Wang Liu’er again made a reverence to him. “Thank you for the wine,” she said. “We are unpretentious people, and live in this hole-and-corner street where there is no good wineshop at which I can get any of the best wine. If I want it, I have to go to the High Street to buy it.”

  “When your husband comes back,” Ximen said, “I am going to arrange with him to buy a house in Lion Street, and then you can go to live there. It is near our own shop and in a good district for buying things.”

  “How kind of you, my lord, to think of me like that. I have been anxious for a long time to get away from this place. If we move, it will be easier for you to come and see me, and we shall escape people’s chatter. Of course, my behavior is perfectly correct, and I don’t care what they say. Father, do whatever seems good to you, whether my husband is at home or not.”

  They talked for a while, then Wang Liu’er set out a table in her own room, and invited Ximen to go in and take off his cloak. Wine and dishes were brought, and she poured wine for him and drank with him. She sat upon his knees, and so they drank. When they had had wine enough, they took off their clothes and went to the bed, where they played together merrily and without constraint. Wang Liu’er had placed soft bedclothes on her bed, and perfumed them with most powerful scent. Ximen Qing had discovered that she was well skilled in the arts of love, and was anxious to show her that he himself was no mean performer.

  In his sleeve he had a silken kerchief. He opened it. Inside were a silver clasp, a lover’s cap, a sulfur ring, a white silk ribbon with medicinal properties, and all manner of things for increasing passion. Wang Liu’er set her head upon the pillow.

  She lifted her ivory-white legs to show her cock’s tongue. Ximen asked whether he could put his medicine into it; he attached the silver clasp to the root of his penis, added the sulfur ring and smeared his belly with ointment from the navel downwards. She grasped his treasure and put it deep inside her, embracing him hard and long.

  “Are your legs tired?” said Wang Liu’er. “Hold the bed; I’ll mo
ve my body.” And again, “I hope you’re not in pain. Shouldn’t I lift my legs higher?”

  Ximen tied her leg to the bed and pressed down with his body. The juice of love flowed continually from her body like snail’s slime. Something white came out too, and Ximen asked, “Why have you got so much of this?”

  He was about to clean himself, but Wang Liu’er said, “Wait, I’ll clean you in my own way,” knelt down, and licked him clean with her sensuous tongue.

  Then Ximen, again fired with desire, turned her over and started on the flower in her bottom. But the sulfur on his penis proved sticky, so progress was difficult and she grimaced with pain. He made little headway, and Wang Liu’er, feeling about with her hand, found that he had gone only halfway. She turned around and said, with a winning look, “Darling, please go in slowly. The root of your prick is bigger than I can take.” Ximen lifted his legs so that he could see himself going in and out.

  “Wang Liu’er, my daughter,” he said, “there is nothing I enjoy more than this. It is well that I met you: you please me greatly. I will never leave you.”

  “Dearest,” Wang Liu’er said, “my only fear is that you will tire of me and put me aside.”

  “If you had known me longer, you would know that I am not that kind of man.”

  They talked and sported together for a long time. “Unless you speak lovingly to me,” Ximen said at last, “I will not yield to you.” Then Wang Liu’er raised herself upon her hands to receive the stream of life. Ximen had such an orgasm that the liquid flowed like a torrent. He withdrew, still wearing the ring. Wang Liu’er washed him orally, and they lay down together.

  Ximen Qing and Wang Liu’er embraced, and lay together till the second night watch. Then a boy came with a horse, and he went home.

  The next day, when he reached his office, he sent two policemen to seize Han the Second. The young man was treated as a footpad, and, without any trial, the screws were put upon him and he was given twenty stripes. The blood ran down his legs. For a month he had to keep his bed. Indeed, he nearly died. This frightened him so much that he never again passed anywhere near the woman’s door.