by Cao Xueqin
He spat on the ground, and then proceeded to give Patience a thorough ticking-off for good measure. Xi-feng was choking with indignation. Her first impulse was to argue it out with him. But after a moment’s reflection she thought it advisable to contain herself and still struggled to keep a smile on her face:
‘But why work yourself up into such a rage about it? And why come ranting at me at this hour of the day? Did I ever say you had to do anyone this favour? If you’ve promised to, then be patient and go through with it for their sake. Anyway, it’s inconceivable that someone in serious trouble could feel in the mood for parties and plays.’
Jia Lian: ‘Precisely! Perhaps you’d like to go and ask him about it yourself tomorrow!’
Xi-feng (surprised): ‘Ask whom?’
Jia Lian: ‘Your brother.’
Xi-feng: ‘Him?’
Jia Lian: ‘Of course! Who else?’
Xi-feng (concerned): ‘But why does he need your help?’
Jia Lian: ‘You’re so well informed, you might as well be stuck at the bottom of a pickle-jar!’
Xi-feng: ‘But I had no idea he was in any kind of trouble! How extraordinary!’
Jia Lian: ‘Of course you didn’t. Even Aunt Wang and Aunt Xue don’t know about it. I didn’t want to worry them. And you’re always telling me how ill you are, so I decided to try to keep the whole thing from you as well. The very mention of it is enough to put me in a rage. Even today I wouldn’t have told you, if you hadn’t pressed me. No doubt you think that brother of yours is a marvellous fellow! But do you know what people call him?’
Xi-feng: ‘What?’
Jia Lian: ‘Wang Ren.’
Xi-feng let out a puzzled little laugh.
‘Well, that’s his name, isn’t it?’
Jia Lian: ‘That’s what you think. It’s not that “Wang Ren”; it’s the one meaning “Blind to all forms of human decency”!’
Xi-feng: ‘Why, that’s an insult! Who’d ever say such a thing?’
Jia Lian: ‘It’s no less than he deserves! I may as well tell you the truth, so that you can see for yourself what sort of a brother you really have. What about this birthday party he’s giving for Uncle Zi-sheng?’
Xi-feng thought for a moment, then exclaimed:
‘Aiyo! Why yes, now that you mention it, that’s something I meant to ask you about: surely Uncle Zi-sheng’s birthday falls during the winter? Bao-yu used to go every year. How strange! I remember quite clearly. When Uncle Zheng was promoted and Uncle Zi-sheng sent those players over, I made a mental note to myself. It seemed so out of character for him to do a thing like that. Uncle Zi-sheng has always been the mean one, not at all like Uncle Zi-teng. In fact the two brothers were always at daggers drawn. You only have to look at the casual way Uncle Zi-sheng behaved when Uncle Zi-teng died. You’d never have thought they were even related.
‘I remember saying that when his next birthday came round we should be sure to send him some players as a return gesture, so as not to be beholden to him. But surely it’s much too early in the year for him to be celebrating his birthday now? What’s going on?’
Jia Lian: ‘You still haven’t got the faintest idea, have you? The very first thing your precious brother Ren did when he got back to the capital was to profit from Uncle Zi-teng’s death by holding a memorial service. He was afraid we’d try to put a stop to it so he never told us. The funeral donations brought him in several thousand taels, I can tell you. Uncle Zi-sheng was furious with him afterwards for cornering the market. This put your brother in a bit of a spot. So for his next little project he picked Uncle Zi-sheng’s birthday, the perfect opportunity to make some more money for himself, and placate old Zi-sheng into the bargain. He wasn’t going to be held back by what the family or friends might say, or by the paltry fact that Uncle Zi-sheng doesn’t really have a birthday until next winter. Let people think what they like, he doesn’t care! He doesn’t know the meaning of the word “pride”!
‘Now, on top of all this, let me tell you why I got up so early this morning. Recently there’s been a memorial from the Censorate. It’s in some way connected with the recent disturbances on the coast. The wording refers to “the deficit left by Wang Zi-teng after his term of office” and asks that this deficit be “made good by his younger brother Wang Zi-sheng and by his nephew Wang Ren”. The two of them got the wind up and asked me to try to pull a few strings for them. I agreed to do it for them. They seemed so pathetic and scared, and anyway I was afraid it might eventually affect you and Aunt Wang. I hoped old Qiu in the Inner Palace might see to it for me, perhaps get Uncle Zi-teng’s successor to cook the books somehow. But I was late, damn it, he’d already left for court. So there I was, up at dawn, tearing around for nothing, while they put on plays and hold a party! If that isn’t enough to make a man’s blood boil, tell me what is!’
Xi-feng still felt she must put some sort of a case for her brother, partly out of her constitutional need never to admit defeat, and partly out of loyalty to her own family:
‘However badly he may have behaved, he’s still your brother-in-law. If you help him, you’ll be doing a good turn for both of my uncles, for the living and the dead. Our family honour is at stake; so I implore you to help. Otherwise you know what will happen: I shall be held responsible for your wrath, and they’ll blacken my name for ever.’
Xi-feng burst into tears. Sitting up in bed, she began to comb her hair, and to throw on some clothes.
‘There’s no need for you to react like that,’ said Jia Lian. ‘It’s your brother who’s behaved so abominably; I’ve said nothing against you. And the servants – when I had to go out this morning, I knew you were not well, so I didn’t disturb you. But they just went on sleeping. Our parents never tolerated such behaviour. You’ve grown too slack. You want to please everybody, that’s your trouble. And the moment I say anything critical, you start hauling yourself out of bed in protest. If I give the servants a piece of my mind, I suppose you’ll stick up for them next. It’s too absurd!’
Xi-feng dried her eyes.
‘It’s late,’ she said. ‘I ought to be getting up anyway.’ After a pause, she continued: ‘Even if that’s how you feel, please try to do what you can for my family, for my sake. And you know how grateful Aunt Wang will be.’
‘All right, all right,’ grumbled Jia Lian. ‘Stop teaching your grandmother to suck eggs.’
‘Why are you getting up, ma’am?’ put in Patience. ‘It’s too early yet. And I don’t see what you have to work yourself into such a terrible temper for, sir! Why take it all out on us? Hasn’t Mrs Lian gone to enough trouble for you in the past? The number of times she’s borne the brunt on your behalf! Perhaps I shouldn’t say this, but in view of all that she’s done for you, it doesn’t seem very fair to make such a big fuss about this one favour, especially when you think how many other people are involved. Do you have no consideration for her feelings? Why should she take all the blame anyway? We were late getting up, and you’re entitled to be angry with us – we’re only servants after all. But when you think how she has worked herself into the ground and ruined her health, it seems so unkind of you to pick a quarrel with her now!’
Patience’s eyes filled with tears. Jia Lian’s original ill humour, strong though it had undoubtedly been, could not withstand the combined opposition of both his womenfolk – at once so appealing and so sharp-tongued.
‘All right, forget it,’ he said, with a bitter smile. ‘She’s hard enough to cope with on her own, without you leaping to her defence. I know I’m just an outsider here anyway, and you’re both itching to have me dead and out of the way.’
‘Don’t speak like that,’ said Xi-feng. ‘Who knows what will happen to any of us? Very probably I shall die before you. The sooner I do, the sooner my heart will be at rest.’
She began to weep again, and Patience tried to comfort her. It was now broad daylight, and the sun was shining in at the window. Jia Lian, who saw little prospect of steering the convers
ation out of this impasse, took his leave.
Xi-feng was about to finish her toilet when one of Lady Wang’s junior maids came in:
‘Her Ladyship says, will you be visiting your uncle today, ma’am, and if so would you take Mrs Bao with you?’
Xi-feng had found the recent scene thoroughly depressing. It was deeply mortifying that her own family should let her down so badly, on top of which she was still suffering from the shock of her encounter in the Garden the previous evening, and felt in no mood for an excursion.
‘Tell Her Ladyship that I still have one or two things to see to, and won’t be able to go today. Anyway the party they’re holding is not what I would call a genuine occasion. If Mrs Bao wants to go, she can go on her own.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
The maid returned with this message to Lady Wang’s apartment.
When she had completed her toilet and dressed herself, Xi-feng reflected that even if she didn’t attend the party, she ought at least to send a note. Besides, Bao-chai had not been married long, and would probably feel rather nervous about going by herself. She decided she should visit her, if only to offer moral support, and after a brief call on Lady Wang she excused herself on some pretext and made her way to Bao-yu’s apartment. He was reclining fully dressed on the kang, staring in a trance-like manner at Bao-chai, who was busy combing her hair. Xi-feng stood in the doorway for a while watching them. Bao-chai presently turned round and seeing her standing there promptly rose to her feet and asked her to be seated. Bao-yu also climbed down from the kang, as Xi-feng seated herself, with a playful smile on her face. Bao-chai scolded Musk:
‘Why didn’t you say that Mrs Lian was here?’
Musk laughed:
‘When Mrs Lian came in, she gave us a sign to be silent.’
Xi-feng turned to Bao-yu:
‘Well, what are you waiting for? Off you go! Honestly, I’ve never set eyes on such a great big baby. A lady wants to do her toilet in private, and you have to climb up beside her and sit there staring! Heavens above, you’re man and wife now, you’ve all day to gawp at her. And what about the maids? Don’t you care if they make fun of you?’
Xi-feng giggled and eyed Bao-yu, clicking her tongue in mock-disapproval. Her words seemed to have little effect on him other than making him feel rather uncomfortable. Bao-chai, however, blushed a fierce crimson, ashamed at having to listen but too embarrassed to reply. Aroma came in with some tea and Bao-chai endeavoured to conceal her embarrassment by offering Xi-feng a pipe of tobacco. Xi-feng rose to her feet and smilingly accepted.
‘Cousin Chai, take no notice of us. Hadn’t you better hurry and get dressed?’
Bao-yu meanwhile had begun shambling around, searching for something one moment, fiddling with something else the next.
‘Off with you then!’ said Xi-feng. ‘Who ever heard of a husband waiting for his wife to go out?’
‘These clothes aren’t right,’ said Bao-yu. ‘That peacock cape Grannie gave me to wear last time I went to Uncle Zi-sheng’s was so much nicer.’
‘Well, go ahead and wear it this time then,’ said Xi-feng teasingly.
‘How can I? It’s too early in the year.’
Xi-feng realized that she had inadvertently drawn attention to the incorrect ‘timing’ (and therefore fraudulent nature) of her uncle’s party. It didn’t matter so much about Bao-chai, who was herself related to the Wangs. But she felt embarrassed to have thus risked discrediting her own family in front of the maids. Aroma, whose mind was running along very different lines, hastened to add her explanation of Bao-yu’s words:
‘I don’t think you understand, ma’am. He wouldn’t wear that cape even if it were the right season.’
‘Why ever not?’ asked Xi-feng.
‘I should explain, ma’am,’ replied Aroma. ‘Mr Bao’s ways are sometimes so very strange. Her Old Ladyship gave him the cape to wear to his uncle Wang’s party two years ago. He had an accident and burnt a hole in it. My mother was seriously ill at the time and I was at home looking after her. Skybright was still with us then, though she was already ill, and I was told when I got back that she had stayed up all night darning the cape for him. The mend was so neat that Her Old Ladyship didn’t even notice it the next day. One day last year, when it was particularly cold, I told Tealeaf to take the cape to school in case Bao-yu needed something warmer to put on. But the sight of it reminded Bao-yu of Skybright and he said he never wanted to wear it again. He told me to put it away for good.’
‘Poor Skybright!’ put in Xi-feng before Aroma had finished speaking. ‘Such a pretty girl! And so clever with her hands! If only she hadn’t been quite so quick-tongued. Someone must have gone gossiping to Lady Wang, or she would never have dealt with the poor girl so harshly and driven her to such an early death.
‘Which reminds me. Not so very long ago I saw Cook Liu’s daughter – Fivey I think her name is – and couldn’t help noticing that she’s the spitting image of Skybright. I thought of bringing her in to work for me, and her mother seemed agreeable to the idea. Then I thought what a good replacement she’d make for Crimson in Bao-yu’s apartment. But Patience told me it was Lady Wang’s policy not to take on any more pretty maids like Skybright for Bao-yu. So I dropped the idea. Now that he’s married I’m sure there can be no objection. I’ll tell Fivey to start work here straight away. How would that be, Bao? Then if you ever find yourself missing Skybright, all you need to do is look at Fivey instead.’
Bao-yu had been about to leave the room, but at Xi-feng’s mention of Fivey had stood there bemused. Aroma spoke for him:
‘Of course he’d be pleased. He’s wanted her as a maid for a long while, but knew that Her Ladyship was against the idea.’
‘Very well then, I’ll tell her to come tomorrow,' said Xi-feng. ‘And I’ll square your mother myself.’
Bao-yu’s delight knew no bounds and he set off in high spirits for Grandmother Jia’s apartment, leaving Bao-chai to finish her toilet.
Xi-feng had found the contrast between the way in which Bao-yu and Bao-chai clung to each other, and her own recent conflict with Jia Lian, somewhat depressing, and she was now anxious to leave. She rose and said to Bao-chai with a smile:
‘Shall we go and see Aunt Wang now?’
Still smiling she walked out of the room, and Bao-chai accompanied her. They went first to Grandmother Jia’s apartment, where they found Bao-yu informing the old lady of the proposed expedition to Uncle Wang Zi-sheng’s. Grandmother Jia nodded:
‘Off you go then. But don’t drink too much, and be sure to come home early. Don’t forget you’re only just beginning to get well again.’
‘Yes, Grannie,’ said Bao-yu.
He had no sooner reached the courtyard than he turned round and re-entered the room, walking over to Bao-chai and whispering something in her ear. She smiled:
‘Yes of course. Now be off with you!’
She hurried him on his way once more.
Grandmother Jia, Xi-feng and Bao-chai settled down to a conversation, but had barely exchanged three sentences when Ripple appeared:
‘The Young Master has sent Tealeaf back with a message for Mrs Bao.’
Bao-chai: ‘What’s he forgotten now?’
Ripple: ‘I told one of the junior maids to ask Tealeaf. The message is this: “The Young Master forgot to tell Mrs Bao something. She should not be too long if she is coming; and if she isn’t, then she should take care not to stand in a draught”.’
Grandmother Jia, Xi-feng and the entire assembly of old serving-women and maidservants burst out laughing. Bao-chai blushed fiercely and said to Ripple with a scornful ‘pfui’:
‘Silly creature! Is that worth running back in such a fluster for?’
Ripple giggled and sent a junior maid to scold Tealeaf, who raced back to Bao-yu, calling to the maid over his shoulder:
‘The Young Master insisted on my dismounting to go on this fool’s errand. If I hadn’t delivered his message I’d have been in trouble wi
th him, and now that I have I get it in the neck from them!’
The maid laughed and went running back to repeat this to the ladies. Grandmother Jia turned to Bao-chai:
‘You’d better go, my dear, or he’ll never stop fretting.’
What with this and Xi-feng’s merciless teasing, Bao-chai felt too embarrassed to stay any longer.
When Bao-chai had taken her leave, Perfecta, one of the nuns from the Convent of the Scattered Flowers, came to call on Grandmother Jia. She greeted Xi-feng also, and sat down to take tea.
‘Why haven’t you been to see us for such a long while?’ asked Grandmother Jia.
‘These past few days we have had so many services at the Convent,’ replied Perfecta, ‘and so many grand ladies coming to make their devotions; I just haven’t had a moment to call my own. Today I have a special reason for visiting Your Old Ladyship. We have a private service tomorrow which I thought you might possibly be interested in attending.’
‘What kind of service is it?’ asked Grandmother Jia.
‘Last month,’ replied Perfecta, ‘the household of the late Excellency Wang was afflicted with a possession of spirits. Her Ladyship even saw her husband’s departed spirit during the night. She came to tell me about it yesterday at the Convent, and pledged herself to an act of devotion at the shrine of our Bodhisattva of the Scattered Flowers. It’s to be a forty-nine-day Solemn Mass for Purification of All Souls on Land and Sea, for the Preservation and Peace of All Members of the Family, for the Ascension into the Celestial Regions of All Departed Souls, and for the Well-Being in This Life of All the Living. I’ve been extremely busy with the preparations, and this is the first opportunity I’ve had to come and pay my respects.’
Xi-feng had always scorned all forms of superstition. But her encounter with Qin Ke-qing’s spirit the night before had begun to undermine her scepticism, and Perfecta’s words now struck a new chord in her. She could almost feel herself being converted to a belief in the efficacy of such rituals.