The Golden Lotus, Volume 1

by Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng

  The days passed. Laibao, Han Daoguo and the others came back from the Eastern Capital and gave an account of their journey to Ximen Qing. “Comptroller Zhai,” Han Daoguo said, “was very pleased with my daughter, and told us to thank you very much. We stayed a few days with him. Then he gave me a letter of thanks, and sent you a black horse as a present. Clerk Han got fifty taels of silver, and I got twenty as journey money.”

  “Money enough,” said Ximen Qing. He read the letter of thanks. Ever afterwards, Zhai and Ximen Qing regarded one another as kinsmen and addressed each other as such.

  Han Daoguo kowtowed to Ximen Qing and made ready to go. “Han,” Ximen said, “the money is yours. A daughter like that is worth it.”

  Han Daoguo hesitated to take it. “Only the other day,” he said, “you were good enough to lend me money. How can I take this now? I have already troubled you enough.”

  “If you do not take it, I shall be annoyed. Take it home with you, but do not spend it. I will tell you why later.”

  Han Daoguo expressed his gratitude and went away. His wife was very pleased to see him. She took his luggage, cleaned the dust from him, and asked him question after question about her daughter’s affairs. Han Daoguo told her about the journey.

  “It is an excellent household,” he said. “When our daughter arrived, she was given three rooms for herself, and two maids to wait on her. As for clothes and jewels, they were too many for me to give you any idea of them. The day after her arrival she went to pay her respects to the Lady, and Comptroller Zhai was delighted with her. He asked us to stay a day or two, and entertained us so well that, even with the servants, there was too much for us. He gave me a present of fifty taels that I did not mean to keep, but our master would not have it, and told me to keep it.”

  He gave the money to his wife. She was as delighted as a piece of stone when at last it comes to rest upon the ground. “We must give a tael to old woman Feng,” she said. “She has very kindly come here all the time you have been away. Our master has already given her one tael.”

  As they were talking, the little maid brought them tea. “Who is this?” Han Daoguo said.

  “I have just bought her,” his wife said, “and her name is Jin’er.” Then she said to the girl: “Come here and kowtow to your father.” The little girl did so and then retired to the kitchen.

  Wang Liu’er told her husband all about her dealings with Ximen Qing. “Since you have been away,” she said, “he has been here three or four times. He gave me four taels of silver to buy this little girl, and, every time he comes, he gives me a tael or two. That younger brother of ours, who does not know the difference between high and low, came piddling around. Master Ximen happened to see him, and he was haled to the office and well beaten there. Since then he has never dared to show his face again. Our master says this place is not very convenient, and he has promised to buy a house in the main street, and let us go there.”

  “I see now why he would not take the silver,” Han Daoguo said, “but asked me to take it and not to spend it. Now I understand what he was thinking about.”

  “Well,” Wang Liu’er said, “here are fifty taels. We will add a few more, and buy a really fine house. Then we shall have a comfortable life, good eating and fine clothes. It is obviously worth while my letting him have me.”

  “Tomorrow,” Han Daoguo said, “if he should happen to come when I have gone to the shop, pretend that I know nothing about it, and don’t treat him unkindly. Do everything he would have you do, for it is no easy matter making money nowadays, and I know no better way than this.”

  Wang Liu’er laughed. “You rascal. It is easy money for you, but you don’t know the sufferings I have to endure.” They both laughed heartily. She prepared supper, and they went to bed.

  The next day Han went to Ximen’s house to get the key, then opened the shop and gave old woman Feng a tael of silver for her pains.

  * * *

  One day Magistrate Xia and Ximen Qing left the office together. Xia saw that his colleague was riding a big dappled black horse. “Why don’t you ride your white horse now, but this black one? This is a fine horse, but I am not so sure about his mouth.”

  “I am letting my white horse have a few days’ rest,” Ximen said. “This one was sent to me by my kinsman Zhai at the Eastern Capital. He got it from General Liu of Xixia. It has good teeth, and is not too fast or too slow, but it has one slight defect; it won’t let any other horse get near the manger. When I first had it, it lost its sleekness for a while, but it has been eating better these last few days.”

  “It seems to me to go very well,” Magistrate Xia said, “but if I were you, I should keep it for riding about town and not take it too far. A horse like that would cost seventy or eighty taels to buy here. There has been something wrong with my horse, and before I could come to the office today, I had to borrow this one from a relative. It is a very poor beast.”

  “Don’t let that upset you,” Ximen Qing said. “I have another one at home, a chestnut. You shall have that.”

  Magistrate Xia bowed. “If you are really so kind, I must pay you, of course.”

  “Don’t think of such a thing,” Ximen said. “As soon as I get home, I will have it brought to you.” They came to West Street and there separated.

  When Ximen reached home, he told Daian to take the horse to his colleague Xia. The magistrate was very pleased and gave the boy a tael of silver. “Thank your master for me,” he said, “and I will thank him myself when I see him at the office.”

  Two months went by. Magistrate Xia made some chrysanthemum wine, engaged two young actors, and invited Ximen Qing. Ximen dined at home, attended to some business, and then went to the party. Xia had prepared an excellent repast especially for Ximen Qing, and was very pleased when he arrived. He came down the steps to welcome his guests, and they greeted each other in the hall.

  “Why have you been to so much trouble on my account?” Ximen said.

  “I have simply made a little chrysanthemum wine,” said Xia, “and thought I might perhaps invite you to my poor house for a talk. I have not invited anyone else.” They took off their ceremonial clothes, and sat down in the places of guest and host. After tea, they played chess. Then they sat and drank wine while they talked. The young actors played and sang for them.

  For a long time, Ximen Qing had not been to the apartments of Pan Jinlian. She felt the loneliness of her curtained bed, the coldness of its dainty coverlets. One day, she opened the corner gate and lighted the silver lamp in her room. She leaned upon the screen and played her lute. It was about midway between the second and the third night watches. Several times, she sent Chunmei to look for her husband, but Chunmei could never see him.

  Through the long night she played her silver lute, but the room seemed so lonely that she could not bear to continue. Then she took the lute and laid it upon her knees. She played softly to herself and sang

  I rested sadly on the lattice

  Then sought my rest without undressing.

  Suddenly, she thought she heard a sound on the gong outside and imagined it was Ximen’s signal. Hastily, she bade Chunmei go out to see. “You were mistaken, Mother,” Chunmei said when she returned, “it was only the wind. It is going to snow.” Then Jinlian sang again.

  I hear the sound of the wind

  The snow is fluttering against my window

  And the ice flowers drifting one by one.

  The lamp grew dim, and the incense burned out. She would have drawn the wick, but there was no sign of Ximen Qing. She could not summon energy enough to touch it. She sang again.

  I am too languid to trim the jeweled lamp

  I am too languid to light the incense

  I make shift to pass the night

  Dreading the morrow that must come.

  When I think of you, how shall my sadness end?

  When I think of you, my mind is consumed.

  You have despoiled my tender years, the flower of my youth
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br />   You have deserted me.

  You have not fulfilled the promise you made in days gone by.

  About the first night watch, Ximen Qing returned from Magistrate Xia’s house. As he rode along, the sky was dark and lowering. The sleet covered his cloak and melted where it fell. He pressed his horse homeward. The boys carried lanterns for him. He did not go to the inner court but straight to the room of Li Ping’er. Li Ping’er welcomed him, brushed off the snow, and took his clothes. Dressed only in his silken gown, he sat on her bed and asked if the baby was asleep. “He has been playing for some time and now he has gone to sleep,” Li Ping’er told him. Yingchun brought tea.

  “Why have you come back from your party so early?” Li Ping’er said.

  Ximen Qing said: “Some time ago, I gave Xia a horse, and today he gave a feast especially for me, and engaged two young actors. I saw that it was going to snow, so I came back in good time.”

  “Would you like to drink again?” Li Ping’er said. “I will tell the maid to heat some wine for you. You came back through the snow and you must not catch cold.”

  “We have some good grape wine,” Ximen said. “Heat some of that for me. The wine I drank at Xia’s place was homemade chrysanthemum wine, but I do not care much for its strong odor and I did not have enough to drink.”

  Yingchun set out a table with refreshments and fruits. Li Ping’er sat down on a little bench opposite Ximen. There was a small charcoal burner under the table. They sat together drinking. Meanwhile, Jinlian was cold and lonely in her room. She sat on the bed with her lute still upon her knees. The lamp had gone out, and the candles were dim. She would have gone to sleep, but she still hoped that Ximen might come. She was sleepy and cold. At last, she took off her headdress, tied her hair carelessly, pulled down the curtain, and sat on the bed with the bedclothes huddled over her.

  I cast myself upon the embroidered bed too sad to sleep.

  I draw the silken curtains.

  But there is only emptiness within them.

  Would that I had known his faithlessness before

  My trusting heart meets with an ill reward.

  Again she sang:

  I hate him for his cruelty, so lightly he deserted me.

  In hours of idleness, our separation tortures me.

  Once again, she bade Chunmei go outside to look for Ximen. “Go once more to see if Father is coming,” she said. “Come back quickly and tell me.”

  The maid soon returned. “Mother,” she said, “are you still thinking that Father is not back? He came back a long time ago and he is drinking in the Sixth Lady’s room.”

  This was more than Jinlian could bear. It made her suffer as though her heart had been pierced by knives. Over and over again she cursed him for a fickle-hearted rogue. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She lifted her lute and sang.

  My heart aches. I cannot comfort it

  Sorrow and misery consume me utterly

  He casts aside the tender peach and seeks a bitter fruit.

  He, whom I made my guide, led me astray.

  When I think of you, my mind is consumed.

  You have despoiled my tender years, the flower of my youth

  You have deserted me.

  You have not fulfilled the promise you made in days gone by.

  Ximen Qing suddenly heard the strains of the lute. “Who is playing the lute?” he asked.

  “It is the Fifth Lady,” Yingchun said.

  “Hasn’t the Fifth Lady gone to bed yet?” Li Ping’er said. “Go at once,” she said to Xiuchun, “and ask her to come and take wine with us. Tell her I ask her to come.”

  Xiuchun went out, and Li Ping’er told Yingchun to place another seat for the Fifth Lady and to set out cup and chopsticks. When the maid came back, she said Jinlian would not come, she had gone to bed. “You go and ask her,” Li Ping’er said to Yingchun. But Yingchun came back with the same story.

  “The Fifth Lady has fastened the corner gate and blown out her lamp. She has gone to bed.”

  “Don’t believe the little strumpet,” Ximen Qing said. “Let us go and drag her out. We will make her come and then we will play chess with her.”

  He went with Li Ping’er to the corner gate. After they had knocked for a long time, Chunmei came and opened it. Ximen Qing took Li Ping’er by the hand, and they went together into Jinlian’s room. She was sitting inside the bed curtains, with the lute beside her.

  “You funny little strumpet,” Ximen said, “why do we have to send for you three times, and still you won’t come?”

  Jinlian sat on the bed and did not make the slightest show of moving. She looked sulky. After a long wait, she said: “Unlucky people like me are only fit to be left in the cold. Let me live my own life. Don’t trouble about me. Don’t try to be kind to me. Save all your attentions for others.”

  “You marvelous little slave!” Ximen said, “you are like an eighty-year-old woman who has lost her teeth but can still make shift to chatter without them. Your Sixth Sister wants to play chess, and we have waited for you a long time.”

  “Yes, Sister,” Li Ping’er said. “I have set out the chess, and we have nothing better to do. Let us play and win some wine to drink.”

  “Sister,” Jinlian said, “please go away. I shall not come. You don’t seem to realize that I am not very well. I need sleep. I have more to worry me than you have. These last few days I have had a wandering fit. Who but I would have to taste yellow soup and plain water? I have had to spend my days looking at my own face.”

  “There is nothing at all the matter with you,” Ximen Qing said. “Why do you pretend to be ill? If you really are, tell me, and I will send for the doctor.”

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” Jinlian said. “Chunmei, bring me my mirror and let me look at myself. I have been growing thinner and thinner day by day.”

  Chunmei brought her a mirror and she looked at her reflection in the lamplight. Ximen took the mirror from her and looked at himself in it. “I am not very thin,” he said.

  “You don’t expect me to look like you, do you?” Jinlian said. “You drink wine day after day, and gobble down huge slices of meat. You have grown fat. Now you are making fun of me.”

  Ximen Qing said no more, but seated himself beside her on the bed. He put his arm around her neck and kissed her. He would have stretched out his hand to smooth her body, but she was still wearing her clothes. He put both hands around her waist. “My daughter,” he said, “you really are thinner.”

  “How cold your hands are, you funny creature,” Jinlian said. “You make me feel like ice. Did you think I was trying to deceive you? Nobody cares if I am sad, and my tears flow down to my own stomach.”

  She resisted for a little longer, but Ximen Qing dragged her bodily to the room of Li Ping’er. There they played chess and drank wine. When Jinlian had to go away, Li Ping’er noticed that her face was sour, and urged Ximen Qing to go with her.

  CHAPTER 39

  The Temple of the Jade Emperor

  Ximen Qing stayed the night in Pan Jinlian’s room. It seemed to her detestable that she could not unite herself even more completely with her lover. In a thousand delightful ways she made love to him: in ten thousand different manners she sported with him. Her tears fell softly on the silken coverlets, and her words were warm and gentle. She wished, more than all else, to win her husband utterly for herself.

  She did not know, however, that Ximen was on such intimate terms with Wang Liu’er. He spent a hundred and twenty taels of silver on a house east of the stone bridge for Wang Liu’er to live in. Two rooms stood upon the street, and it was four rooms deep. There was a guest room, a shrine for the worship of Buddha and the ancestors, a bedroom, and a kitchen. When they removed there, the neighbors knew that Han Daoguo was Ximen Qing’s clerk, and no one dared to behave other than kindly. Many sent boxes of tea and presents to celebrate the housewarming. They called Han Daoguo Brother Han or Son-in-law Han, and the young people addressed them as Uncle and Aunt.
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  Whenever Ximen Qing came to the house, Han Daoguo would sleep at the shop so as to allow complete freedom to his wife and her lover. Ximen came in the morning and went away in the evening and all the neighbors knew of it. Yet they were so in awe of his power and wealth that none of them dared to say a word. In less than a month, Ximen Qing visited the woman at least three or four times, and their passion for each other was as fiery as burning charcoal.

  The end of the year was approaching, and Ximen was busy arranging to send presents to the Eastern Capital. He also prepared gifts for the civil officers of the district and those of his own department. About this time, Abbot Wu of the Temple of the Jade Emperor bade his novices take to Ximen Qing four boxes of gifts, “Heaven and Earth” pictures, charms for the coming spring, and prayers to the God of Fire. Ximen Qing was taking a meal in his wife’s room when Daian brought a card upon which was written: “The unworthy priest, Wu Zongjia, offers these things with his most respectful compliments.” Ximen Qing read it.

  “This priest,” he said, “has troubled himself on my account again.” He told Daian to ask Shutong to give a tael of silver with his card to the young novice.

  “He is a priest,” Wu Yueniang said, “and every new year and every festival you take presents from him. You would do well to make the sacrifice you promised when the Sixth Lady’s baby was born.”

  “Thank you for reminding me,” Ximen Qing said. “I did promise to make a first-class sacrifice, but I had forgotten all about it.”

  “You are a splendid example of gratitude,” Yueniang said. “Whoever heard of anyone forgetting a promise of that kind? Your mouth makes promises readily, but your mind is elsewhere at the time. The gods do not forget. No wonder the baby is always cross. It must be because you have not kept your word.”