The Dreamer Wakes

by Cao Xueqin

  Bao-yu stood dumbfounded, an expression of glazed horror in his eyes. Aroma and his other maids rallied him:

  ‘Cry if you must, but don’t bottle it up like this!’

  Finally he managed to emit a piercing wail.

  ‘What a rare girl Faithful was to choose such a death!’ he had been thinking to himself. ‘The purest essence of the universe is truly concentrated in her sex! She has found a fitting and noble death. We, Grandmother’s own grandchildren, are despicable by comparison. We have shown ourselves less devoted than her maid.’

  He found something strangely comforting in this thought, and by the time Bao-chai had come to his side to soothe his tears, he was smiling again.

  ‘Oh dear!’ cried Aroma. ‘Mr Bao’s going mad again!’

  ‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ Bao-chai reassured her. ‘No doubt he has his reasons.’

  Bao-yu was pleased to hear Bao-chai say this.

  ‘Perhaps she really does understand me,’ he thought to himself. ‘If so, she is the only one.’

  He was drifting off into some other fantastic reverie when Jia Zheng arrived.

  ‘Faithful is a commendable child!’ exclaimed Jia Zheng with a sincere sigh of admiration. ‘Lady Jia’s love for her was not in vain!’ He turned to Jia Lian:

  ‘Send someone to buy her a coffin, and lay her in it this very night. Tomorrow her remains can be conveyed together with Mother’s, and her coffin can lie in state behind, that of her mistress. In this way her noble act can be carried to a fitting conclusion.’

  Jia Lian went out to execute these instructions, and gave orders for Faithful’s body to be let down and laid out in Grandmother Jia’s inner room.

  When Patience heard the news of Faithful’s suicide, she came with Oriole and a whole crowd of other maids and they all wept bitterly before Faithful’s body. The occasion caused Nightingale to think of her own future and the precariousness of her present situation, and she regretted that she herself had not chosen Faithful’s path and followed Dai-yu to the grave. By so doing she would at least have fulfilled her duty as a maid and died a noble death. In Bao-yu’s apartment she was doing little more than marking time. Although he was very considerate and affectionate towards her, she knew that nothing would ever come of it. All these thoughts added a note of personal grief to her lamentations.

  Lady Wang sent at once for Faithful’s sister-in-law. She told her to supervise the encoffinment, and after consulting with Lady Xing, issued her an allowance of one hundred taels (from Grandmother Jia’s fund). She also promised to sort out all Faithful’s private effects and give them to her as soon as she had time. The sister-in-law kowtowed, and so far from exhibiting any signs of grief, seemed rather pleased.

  ‘What wonderful courage Faithful showed!’ she exclaimed. ‘And what a lucky girl she is, to have won such glory, and such a splendid funeral into the bargain!’

  One of the serving-women nearby rebuked her:

  ‘That’s quite enough from you! A hundred taels is a poor bargain for your own sister-in-law’s life! Think how much more profit you’d have made out of her if you’d only managed to. flog her earlier on to Sir She! Then you’d have had something to crow about!’

  The words struck home, and Faithful’s sister-in-law departed blushing. At the inner gate she met Steward Lin with a team of men carrying in the coffin and returned with them, helping them lay Faithful’s corpse in the coffin, and herself putting on a show of mourning.

  Since Faithful had died in the best Confucian tradition, ‘out of devotion to her mistress’, Jia Zheng sent for incense and himself lit three joss-sticks before her coffin.

  ‘For her loyalty and devotion,’ he said, having made a solemn bow, ‘she deserves to be elevated above the rank of a mere maid. The younger generation must pay homage to her.’

  Bao-yu’s delight knew no bounds. He came forward and with almost exaggerated reverence performed a series of full-blown kowtows. Jia Lian also recalled Faithful’s past kindnesses to him, and would have followed suit, but Lady Xing restrained him:

  ‘One of the masters is quite enough. Too much of this might ruin her chances of being born again …’

  Jia Lian desisted. But Bao-chai felt uneasy at Lady Xing’s words. ‘Strictly speaking, I shouldn’t kowtow to her,’ she said. ‘But this is a special case. We are all of us too bound by our commitments to the living to give in to any extreme display of grief. But Faithful has acted for us. She has given the fullest expression to our devotion, and now we should ask her to continue serving Grandmother in the next world on our behalf. That would at least be a small token of our love!’

  She walked forward on Oriole’s arm and poured a libation of wine before Faithful’s coffin, the tears streaming in profusion down her cheeks. When the libation was completed, she kowtowed several times in succession and sobbed emotionally. Some of the assembled company commented wryly that now Bao-yu and his wife were both demented; others protested that their conduct evinced a sincere grief; while some restricted themselves to observing that they had at least manifested a sense of what was right and proper. Jia Zheng, for his part, was pleased with them.

  He had by now settled the caretaking arrangements, and it was agreed that Xi-feng and Xi-chun would stay behind, while all the other ladies would take part in the procession. No one slept a great deal that night.

  At four in the morning, the cortège could be heard gathering outside, and by seven it was ready to move off, with Jia Zheng at the head, in full mourning attire and weeping profusely, as the rites demanded of a filial son. The street was lined with the funeral booths of countless families, which need not be described in detail here. At last they reached the Temple of the Iron Threshold and the coffins were set out, while the menfolk in mourning prepared to spend the night at the temple.

  At home, Steward Lin supervised the dismantling of the funeral awning, carefully bolted the doors and put up the shutters on the windows, swept the courtyard and appointed wardens for the night-watch, to commence their duties that evening. It was a well-established rule at Rong-guo House that the innermost gate was closed at ten, and after that hour entrance to the inner apartments was strictly forbidden to males. Female domestics kept the watch inside. Xi-feng, despite a night’s rest, had still not recovered from her attack, and although she seemed a little more composed, she was certainly not capable of getting about. Patience and Xi-chun therefore undertook a tour of inspection, and gave the women on night-watch their instructions before retiring to their separate apartments.

  Our narrative turns at this point to Zhou Rui’s foster-son, He San – who, it may be remembered, had been flogged and expelled from Rong-guo House by Cousin Zhen the previous year for fighting with his fellow-servant, Bao Er, and had since then spent most of his time in the gambling-dens. With Grandmother Jia’s death, He San thought there might be a possibility of reinstatement, or at least a job of some kind in the offing for him, and he made enquiries at Rong-guo House several days in succession. Finally it became clear that he was engaged on a futile quest, and heaving many a disgruntled sigh he made his way back to one of his usual haunts, and slumped into a chair. His cronies noticed his depressed air and called out to him:

  ‘San, old mate, why not have another fling? Who knows, your luck might turn.’

  ‘I’d love to!’ exclaimed He San bitterly. ‘But I haven’t a penny left to play with.’

  ‘Come off it! After all the time you’ve been away at your old Pa Zhou’s place? You must have fixed yourself up all right! Don’t come the beggar on us!’

  ‘That’s what you think! Oh, they’ve got plenty – millions in fact – but they’re keeping it all tucked away. They won’t spend it. They’ll hang on to it and hang on to it and in the end it will take a fire or a thief to make them let go!’

  ‘You can’t expect us to believe they’re that rich, after what they had confiscated in that raid?’

  ‘You don’t realize,’ replied He San. ‘It was only what they couldn
’t hide that got taken. The old lady left behind a stash of her own when she died, and they won’t part with a penny of it. It’s all put away in her room. They’re going to decide what to do with it after the funeral.’

  These words seemed to make a particularly strong impression on one member of the company, who exclaimed after a few more throws of the dice:

  ‘All I ever do is lose! I’ll never break even. I’m off to bed.’

  As he walked out, he took He San to one side and muttered:

  ‘A word, old San.’

  He San followed him out.

  ‘I can’t bear watching a clever fellow like you go skint, when there’s no need …’

  ‘It’s my luck,’ muttered He San. ‘What can I do about it?’

  ‘I thought just now you said Rong-guo House was stacked with money. Why not get some of it for yourself?’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ rejoined He San. ‘It may be stacked with money, but that doesn’t mean they’d give us a penny of it!’

  The man laughed.

  ‘Well, if they won’t give it away, why don’t we just help ourselves …’

  He San began to catch his drift.

  ‘And just how do you propose to do that?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh show some guts, man! Don’t be so feeble!’ was the reply. ‘I’d have got my fingers on it long ago.’

  ‘What sort of “guts” have you got then?’

  The man’s voice dropped to a whisper:

  ‘If you want to make a lot of money out of this, all you have to do is show us the way in – I’ve got some friends in this line of business, first-class operators. They’re just the ones for this job. And it so happens the Jias are all away at this funeral, and there’s only a few women left at home. Mind you, a whole garrison of men wouldn’t scare my friends … But maybe you’re scared?’

  ‘Me!’ objected He San hotly. ‘I’m not scared! Do you think I’m worried about old Zhou? Why, I only let him be my foster-dad because his missus asked me to. He’s nothing. But it all sounds a bit dodgy to me. Could land us in a lot of trouble. The Jias have got connections with every yamen. Supposing we do manage to get the stuff out, it’ll be hard to get rid of it.’

  ‘This time you’re in luck, old friend,’ said the other. ‘Some of my seafaring mates happen to be in the area at this very moment, waiting for a job like this to crop up. Once we’ve got our hands on the money, you and I would be wasting our time in these parts. We’d be far better off going to sea with my mates and spending our fortune there! Good idea, eh? Of course, if you can’t bear the thought of parting from your old foster-mum, we’ll just have to lug her along too. One big happy family, eh!’

  ‘You’re drunk!’ exclaimed He San. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. The whole idea’s a crazy one.’

  None the less, he took the man aside into an out-of-the-way alley, and the two of them stood there talking a while longer before going their separate ways. Our story must leave them for the time being.

  We must return to Rong-guo House and to Bao Yong, the former Zhen family retainer now living with the Jias, who after a dressing-down from Jia Zheng had been demoted to caretaking duties in the Garden. In the general bustle of Grandmother Jia’s funeral, no one thought of assigning him a task. He was unconcerned by this and continued to mind his own business, cooking for himself and leading a somewhat carefree and independent life. If he felt bored, he would take a nap, and on waking would practise with sword and stave in the Garden. On the day of Grandmother Jia’s funeral procession, of which he was quite aware, although he had been given no part to play in it, he was taking a stroll in the Garden when he saw the figure of a nun accompanied by an old matron, making their way to the side gate, where they began knocking. He went up to them:

  ‘Where would you be going, Reverend Mother?’

  The old matron replied:

  ‘We heard that Lady Jia’s wake is over, and as we couldn’t see Miss Xi-chun in the procession we thought she must have stayed at home. Sister thought she might be lonely and has come to call on her.’

  ‘None of the family are at home,’ said Bao Yong. ‘I’m in charge of the Garden and I must ask you to return to your quarters. If you want to visit, please wait until they have come back from the procession.’

  ‘And who do you think you are, you ruffian?’ the matron protested indignantly. ‘What business is it of yours where we go?’

  ‘I don’t like your type,’ replied Bao Yong. ‘I say you can’t go, and that’s final.’

  ‘Why, this is downright mutiny!’ the old matron retorted angrily and noisily. ‘When Lady Jia was alive they never stopped us going anywhere. What kind of an upstart are you, to start throwing your weight around in this insolent manner? I don’t care what you say, I will go out this way!’

  She seized the door-knocker and struck it several times with all her might.

  Adamantina was speechless with rage as she listened to this exchange. She was on the point of going home when the old women on the other side of the gate heard the sound of an argument and opened up to investigate. Deducing that Adamantina must have been offended by Bao Yong, and knowing that she was on intimate terms with the ladies of the house, especially Miss Xi-chun, the women feared that at some later date she might report them for not letting her through, and thereby get them into serious trouble. They hurried after her:

  ‘We had no idea you were here, Your Reverence. Our apologies for being so slow in opening the gate. Miss Xi-chun is at home, and would be so pleased to see you. Please come on in. That stupid caretaker is new here. He doesn’t know anything. We’ll report him later to Her Ladyship and she’ll have him beaten and get rid of him.’

  At first Adamantina refused to change her mind. But the old women kept on pestering her, begged her not to get them into trouble, were on the point of falling to their knees, until in the end she really had no choice but to turn back and follow them into the mansion. Bao Yong, seeing how things stood, understandably made no further attempts at obstruction but went back to his room, scowling and fuming to himself.

  Adamantina went straight to Xi-chun’s apartment. She offered her condolences and they chatted for a while.

  ‘I still have a few more nights to last out before the others come home,’ said Xi-chun. ‘Xi-feng is sick, and I’m all on my own. It’s so boring and lonely – and scaring! If only I had someone to keep me company! Now that you’ve come all this way, won’t you stay the night? Please! We could play Go together and chat.’

  At first Adamantina was reluctant. But she felt sorry for Xi-chun, and then at the mention of the game Go her eyes lit up and she agreed to stay, instructing the matron to return to the Hermitage and send one of the novices with her tea things, her clothes and her bedding. Xi-chun was delighted and for her part instructed Landscape to go and fetch some of the supply of the previous year’s rainwater, which had been stored and put aside for making tea. She made a point of saying that Adamantina would not be needing a cup, as she had her own set. The novice presently arrived with Adamantina’s things, Xi-chun made the tea, and the two of them were soon carried away in a spirited conversation that lasted until eight o’clock in the evening, when Landscape laid out the Go-board, and they settled down to play. Xi-chun lost the first two games, but then Adamantina gave her a handicap of four and she managed to win the next by half a point.

  Before they knew, it was two o’clock in the morning. Outside, the night was breathlessly still.

  ‘I must meditate at four,’ said Adamantina. ‘You go in now and rest. My own girl can wait on me.’

  Xi-chun was reluctant to go, but complied out of respect for Adamantina’s religious practice. She was about to go into her bedroom when suddenly she heard a great cry coming from the women on night-watch in Grandmother Jia’s apartment, which was soon taken up by her own serving-women:

  ‘Help! Help! Someone has broken in!’

  Xi-chun, Landscape and the other maids were scared out of their wits. Ne
xt they heard shouting coming from the men on night-duty in the outer apartments.

  ‘Dear oh dear!’ exclaimed Adamantina. ‘There must be burglars in the house!’

  She hurriedly closed the door of the room and covered her lamp. Peeping through a hole in the window, she could see several men standing in the courtyard outside. Speechless at first with terror, she turned and crept quietly back into the room, gesturing with her hands and finally saying to the others:

  ‘Heaven save us! What great burly fellows there are out there!’

  As she spoke, there was a clatter on the roof-top above her head and she heard the night-watchmen bursting into the courtyard with cries of ‘Stop thief!’

  ‘Everything has been taken from Lady Jia’s apartment! We must find the thief!’ called one of them. ‘The others have already gone to the east wing. We’ll search the west.’

  One of Xi-chun’s old women, hearing familiar voices, called out from inside:

  ‘Some of them have climbed up on our roof!’

  ‘Look!’ cried the night-watchmen. ‘There they are! Up there!’

  A confused hubbub ensued, several tiles came hurtling down from the roof, and none of the watchmen had the courage to climb in pursuit. They were all standing there rather helplessly when a fresh burst of noise came from the direction of the side gate to the Garden, followed by the sound of the gate itself being broken down, and in stormed a great hefty fellow with a wooden club in his hand. They all tried to hide, without any success.

  ‘We must stop them all, every one of them!’ bellowed the new arrival. ‘Follow me!’

  They stood there paralysed with fear, while the club-wielding man continued to harangue them. One of the more perspicacious among them finally identified him as Bao Yong, and gradually the others regained their nerve and began saying shakily:

  ‘One of the thieves managed to escape altogether! But some of them are still up on the roof.’

  The instant Bao Yong heard this, he vaulted up onto the roof and went in hot pursuit.

  After the main part of their mission was accomplished, the thieves, knowing how unprotected the Jia mansion was, had been casually snooping around in Xi-chun’s courtyard, and had caught a glimpse there of a very attractive young nun, which had put all sorts of mischievous ideas into their heads. They knew that the apartment was unguarded save by a handful of scared old women, and were about to kick the door in and put an abrupt end to Adamantina’s meditations when they heard the sound of footsteps coming from outside and escaped onto the roof-top. They soon saw that they outnumbered their pursuers and had decided to fight it out when a man leapt up onto the roof and came after them.