The Dreamer Wakes

by Cao Xueqin

  Qiao-jie found the conversation embarrassing and had gone off somewhere to talk to Qing-er. The two girls were soon chatting away together, and gradually struck up a friendship.

  Patience was worried that Grannie Liu’s endless ramblings would wear Xi-feng out, and presently she took her aside and said:

  ‘Speaking of Her Ladyship, you still haven’t been to call on her. I’ll find someone to take you over there. It would be a great pity not to see her now that you’re here.’

  Grannie Liu was about to set off, but Xi-feng called her back:

  ‘What’s the great hurry? Sit down, I want to talk to you. Tell me how things have been at home.’

  Grannie Liu thanked Xi-feng profusely for her kind concern.

  ‘If it weren’t for your help, ma’am,’ she began, pointing at Qing-er, ‘her ma and pa would have starved to death by now. Life is still hard (how could it be otherwise for country folk?), but they’ve been able to scrape together an acre or two and put down a well and grow some vegetables and fruits and gourds. With the money they get every year for the produce, they manage to keep body and soul together. And what with the clothes and material you’ve been sending us so regularly these past two years, ma’am, we’re thought of as among the more comfortably off in our village. Holy Name! I remember the day when Qing-er’s father came into town and heard the news that your family had been raided by the Embroidered Jackets, ma’am. When he came home and told me, I nearly died of the shock! Then later someone else told me it wasn’t your side of the family after all – I was so relieved! Afterwards I heard about Sir Zheng being promoted and was so pleased I wanted to come straight here to offer my congratulations. But we had so much to do on the land that I couldn’t get away. And then yesterday I heard that Her Old Ladyship had passed away! I was bringing in the beans, and I was that shocked I couldn’t go on, I just had to sit down on the ground and cry my heart out. I said to my son-in-law: “I don’t care what you say, it may be true or it may just be a rumour, but either way I’m going into town to find out for myself!” They’re not a bad sort, my daughter and her man, and they wet their eyes too when they heard the news. So this morning they saw me off and I left before first light and came here as quick as I could. There was no one to ask on the way and I couldn’t get any news, so I came straight here to the back gate and when I saw the door-gods all pasted over with white I got the shock of my life. I tried finding Mrs Zhou, but there was no sign of her. Then I ran into a young lady who told me Mrs Zhou was in trouble and had been given the sack. I waited for ages before I saw someone I knew and was able to come in. I’d no idea you were so sick too, ma’am!’

  Grannie Liu was in tears. The distressing effect she was having on Xi-feng made Patience anxious, and she drew her aside before she could say any more:

  ‘Now, Grannie, after all this talking your mouth must be awfully dry. How about a nice cup of tea?’

  She took her off into one of the maids’ rooms, while Qing-er continued playing in Qiao-jie’s room.

  ‘I really don’t want any tea,’ protested Grannie Liu. ‘Please, miss, can someone take me over to Her Ladyship’s now? I’d like to pay my respects and mourn for Her Old Ladyship.’

  ‘There’s no hurry,’ said Patience. ‘It will be too late for you to leave this evening anyway. I was afraid you would upset Mrs Lian with all your talking. That’s why I hurried you out. I hope you won’t take offence.’

  ‘Holy Name! How very thoughtful of you, miss! But how is Mrs Lian ever going to get better?’

  ‘Does it look serious to you?’ asked Patience.

  ‘Maybe I shouldn’t say this,’ replied Grannie Liu, ‘but to me it looks very nasty.’

  They heard Xi-feng calling and Patience hurried to her bedside. Xi-feng said nothing further, however, and Patience was just asking Felicity what the trouble was when they were interrupted by the arrival of Jia Lian. He glanced at the kang where Xi-feng lay, then without a word stomped into the inner room, uttered a series of exasperated grunts and sat down. Autumn was the only one to follow him in. She poured his tea and waited on him attentively, whispering something in his ear. Jia Lian summoned Patience and asked her:

  ‘Isn’t Mrs Lian taking medicine?’

  ‘What if she isn’t?’

  ‘Oh, how should I know? Bring me the key to the chest.’

  The blackness of his mood was more evident than ever to Patience. She restrained herself from saying anything in reply, but went out and whispered in Xi-feng’s ear. Xi-feng was silent. Patience fetched a casket, placed it by Jia Lian’s side and walked away.

  ‘Where are you off to in such a damned hurry?’ snapped Jia Lian. ‘Aren’t you going to take the key out for me, now that you’ve dumped the thing there?’

  Patience tried not to react. She opened the casket, took out the key and opened the chest with it. Then she asked:

  ‘What do you want from it?’

  ‘What have we got in there?’

  Patience finally broke down. Half angrily, half tearfully she begged Jia Lian:

  ‘Please, won’t you tell us what the matter is? It’s not fair to keep us in this dreadful suspense …’

  ‘What is there to say? You’re the ones who caused this trouble in the first place. Now we owe four or five thousand taels for Grandmother’s funeral, and Uncle Zheng has told me to mortgage some family property to raise the money. Do you imagine we’ve anything left to mortgage? It’s going to look pretty bad if we can’t meet our debts. I never asked to do this. I shall just have to pawn the things Grandmother gave me. Well, what’s the matter with you? Don’t you agree?’

  Patience did not say a word, but started taking everything out of the chest. Crimson came up to her:

  ‘Come quickly! Mrs Lian has been taken bad!’

  Patience hurried in, forgetting Jia Lian entirely, and found Xi-feng waving her arms wildly in the air. She tried to hold her down, calling out to her tearfully. Even Jia Lian now came in to have a look. He stamped his foot and cried:

  ‘This will be the death of me!’

  Tears started to his eyes. Felicity came in:

  ‘You’re wanted outside, sir.’

  Jia Lian checked himself and went out.

  Xi-feng was weakening with every minute, and Felicity and the other maids began wailing and sobbing. Qiao-jie heard and came running in, followed by Grandmother Liu, who hurried over to the kang and began muttering prayers to the Buddha and a lot of other mumbo-jumbo, which appeared to rally Xi-feng’s spirits a little. Presently Lady Wang arrived, having heard the news from a maid; by this time Xi-feng was more peaceful, and Lady Wang saw no undue cause for concern. She greeted Grannie Liu and asked her how long she had been at Rong-guo House. Grannie Liu returned the greeting and immediately began talking at some length about Xi-feng’s illness. After a while Suncloud appeared with a message that her mistress was wanted by Sir Zheng, whereupon Lady Wang gave Patience a few instructions and left.

  After her bad spell, Xi-feng’s mind seemed to grow clearer. She saw Grannie Liu in the room once more, and began to feel a growing faith in the efficacy of the old dame’s prayers. She told Felicity and the others to leave them alone and, calling Grannie Liu over to the side of her bed, confided to her that she felt very troubled at heart and was constantly seeing spirits. Grannie Liu replied that in her home village there was a certain miraculous Bodhisattva, and a certain temple where prayers were always answered.

  ‘I beseech you to pray for me,’ said Xi-feng. ‘If you need money for offerings, I can provide it for you.’

  She slipped a golden bracelet off her wrist and gave it to Grannie Liu.

  ‘There’s no need of that,’ said Grannie Liu. ‘If we country-folk make a vow, we give a few hundred cash when we get better – no need for anything as grand as this. If I go and pray for you, that will be your vow, ma’am, and when you’re better you can go yourself and give what you want.’

  Xi-feng knew that Grannie Liu was sincere, and did not try to p
ress the bracelet on her.

  ‘My life is in your hands, Grannie!’ she said. ‘My little girl also is pursued by countless ailments and afflictions. I entrust her to you as well.’

  Grannie Liu readily agreed.

  ‘I really ought to be going if I’m to catch the gates,’ she said. ‘There’s still just time. In a day or two, when you’re better, you can come and offer thanks.’

  Xi-feng’s soul was beleaguered by the spirits of those she had harmed during her lifetime, and she was eager for the old lady to go and pray for her:

  ‘Do your best for me. If I can only get some peaceful sleep, I shall be so grateful to you. You can leave your granddaughter here.’

  ‘But she’s only a country lass, and has no manners,’ protested Grannie Liu. ‘I’m afraid she’ll only make trouble here. I’d better take her with me.’

  ‘Don’t you worry. She is one of the family, it will be quite all right. We may be hard up, but I think we can feed one extra mouth.’

  Grannie Liu could tell that Xi-feng meant what she said, and for her part she was only too pleased to let Qing-er stay with the Jias a few days and save a little at home. The only problem was that Qing-er herself might not be willing. She decided to call her over and offer her the choice, and soon discovered that the two girls had become firm friends, that Qiao-jie was most reluctant to let Qing-er go, and that Qing-er herself was eager to stay. The old lady gave her grandchild a few parting words of advice, said goodbye to Patience and hurried out, anxious to reach the city gates before they closed. And there our narrative must leave her.

  Green Bower Hermitage was built on Jia family land, and when Prospect Garden was created for the Visitation, the site of the Hermitage was included within the Garden’s precincts. But as a religious establishment it had always been self-supporting, and had never been dependent on Jia family charity. The nuns in residence had reported Adamantina’s calamity to the authorities and were waiting for them to apprehend the criminals. Meanwhile, since their community belonged to Adamantina, they resolved to stay where they were, and informed the Jias to this effect.

  Although the household staff all knew of Adamantina’s disappearance, they had not wanted to trouble Jia Zheng with such a matter at a time when he was in mourning and had a great deal else on his mind. In fact Xi-chun was the only one of the family to know about it at first, and was in a state of constant anxiety and suspense on Adamantina’s behalf. Then the story, or rather two versions of it, reached Bao-yu’s ears; according to one she had been kidnapped, according to the other she had succumbed to the temptations of the flesh and eloped of her own free will with a lover. ‘She must have been kidnapped,’ Bao-yu thought to himself in great perplexity. ‘A person like her would never have acquiesced in such a thing. She would rather have died!’ As time went by there was, still no news of her whereabouts, however, and every day Bao-yu sighed sadly to himself, reluctant to believe that Adamantina of all people, the self-styled ‘Dweller Beyond the Threshold’ of this world, could have come to so worldly an end. His thoughts ran on to the happier days they had shared in the Garden and the more troubled times that had followed: ‘Since Ying left home, some of my cousins have died, others have been married. Somehow I always thought that if there was one absolutely pure and incorruptible person among us, it was Adamantina. But now this sudden storm of calamity has blown up out of nowhere, and a death stranger than Dai-yu’s has taken her away!’ As he pursued this train of thought to its logical conclusion, a line from Zhuang-zi came into his mind: ‘This life, this insubstantial tissue of vanity, floats like a cloud on the wind!’ With this he burst into tears, and Aroma, who thought it was another of his fits, endeavoured to comfort him with tender words of affection.

  At first Bao-chai could not imagine what had upset him, and she admonished him in her usual fashion. But when he continued depressed despite her efforts and remained in an apparent state of trance for days on end, she became greatly perplexed and eventually, after making persistent enquiries, discovered the truth. She was herself greatly distressed to learn of Adamantina’s disappearance, but her concern for Bao-yu tempered her grief, and she rallied him again briskly:

  ‘Look at young Lan now: I’ve heard that he’s been hard at work ever since he returned from the funeral! He hasn’t been going to school, but day and night he pores over his books at home on his own. And he’s only Lady Jia’s great-grandson! You’re her grandson; she had such high hopes for you. And Father worries day and night about you. And yet you indulge yourself and ruin your health over some trifle, some silly piece of sentimentality. We depend on you. What will happen to all of us, if you carry on like this?’

  There was little Bao-yu could say in answer to this. After a long silence he finally came out with:

  ‘But it’s not a trifle! It’s a tragedy! It’s the decline of our entire family that I’m lamenting!’

  ‘Listen to you!’ retorted Bao-chai. ‘The one thing Father and Mother want is that you should do well and be a credit to the family. If you persist in this folly, how can the family fortunes ever hope to improve?’

  Her words received a most unsympathetic reception from Bao-yu, who proceeded to lean over the table and doze off. Bao-chai ignored him, and went to bed, telling Musk and the others to wait on him.

  Bao-yu soon awoke, and noticed how few people were left in the room with him.

  ‘I’ve never had a proper talk with Nightingale since she was transferred to our apartment,’ he thought to himself. ‘She probably thinks I’ve been very cold. I feel very bad about it. I can’t treat her like Musk or Ripple – they’re easy to deal with. Nightingale’s different. I remember how she kept me company all those times I was ill – I still have the little mirror she left. She must have felt something for me then, but somehow whenever we meet now, she’s very distant and cold. Surely it can’t be because of Chai; she and Dai-yu were the closest of friends, and she always treats Nightingale kindly too. When I’m not at home, in fact, she and Nightingale often talk and laugh together. But the moment I walk in, Nightingale leaves the room. It must be because my wedding took place at the very time when Dai-yu was dying … Oh Nightingale! Nightingale! Surely a clever girl like you can see the anguish that I suffer!’

  His thoughts ran on:

  ‘This is my chance, while they are all asleep or busy sewing, to find Nightingale and have a talk with her. I’ll see what she has to say, and if there’s still some way in which I have caused offence, I can try to make it up with her.’

  He stole quietly out of the room and went in search of Nightingale.

  She was living in a maid’s room in the west wing. Bao-yu crept up to one of the windows, and seeing that there was still a light burning inside, used the tip of his tongue to moisten a spy-hole in the window-paper and peep through. He saw her sitting idly on her own by the lamp.

  ‘Nightingale!’ he whispered. ‘Are you still awake?’

  Nightingale was startled and sat there stunned for a few moments before asking:

  ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘It’s me!’ replied Bao-yu.

  Nightingale thought she recognized Bao-yu’s voice.

  ‘Is it you, Mr Bao?’

  ‘Yes!’ whispered Bao-yu, to which Nightingale replied:

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve something private to talk to you about. Let me in and we can sit and have a chat.’

  After a pause, Nightingale replied:

  ‘What do you want to talk about? It’s getting late. Please go back to your room now. You can tell me about it in the morning.’

  Bao-yu was very disheartened. If he persisted in his efforts, he was afraid Nightingale would bar the door to him; on the other hand, if he went back, how would the emotions that seethed within him find an outlet, emotions that his short exchange with Nightingale had only served to intensify? He made one last attempt to talk her round:

  ‘I haven’t a great deal to say. Just one question to ask.’

&n
bsp; ‘Well, if it’s only one question, go ahead.’

  Bao-yu, however, now suddenly found himself quite bereft of the power of speech, and a long silence ensued. Nightingale, on her side of the window, began to find his silence worrying. She knew his tendency to have fits, and feared that her brusque manner might have caused one of his relapses. She stood up and after listening carefully for a moment, asked:

  ‘Have you gone, or are you still standing there gawping? Why don’t you speak your mind instead of spending your time driving people to distraction? You’ve already driven one person to death; do you want to drive another? It’s all so senseless!’

  She peeped back at Bao-yu through the spy-hole. There he was, standing, listening to her with a trance-like expression on his face. She felt it advisable to say no more, and walked back and began trimming her lamp. Suddenly she heard Bao-yu sigh:

  ‘Oh Nightingale! You’ve never been as cold as this before! Why have you not had a single good word for me recently? I know I’m a sorry specimen of humanity, too impure to merit any real respect. But I still wish you’d tell me what it is that I’ve done wrong. Then I could endure being shunned by you for the rest of my life. At least I could die knowing my faults.’

  Nightingale sniffed scornfully.

  ‘Is that all you had to say? Isn’t there anything new? I know all that by heart. I heard enough of that when Miss Lin was alive. But if I’ve done anything wrong, you should take your complaints to Her Ladyship. She’s the one who told me to wait on you. We’re only maids anyway, what do we count for?’

  She started sobbing and snivelling. Bao-yu knew that she was suffering too, and he stamped his foot in frustration.

  ‘How can you talk like that? After being here all these months, surely you must know what’s on my mind? And if none of the others will speak for me, won’t you let me tell you myself? Do you want me to go on bottling it up inside for ever, and choke to death?’

  He too began sobbing his heart out, when a voice was heard behind him, saying:

  ‘Who, pray, should speak for you? Why drag others into it? You’ve offended her, so you jolly well make it up. It’s up to her to decide whether she’ll forgive you. Why put the blame on nobodies like us?’