The Dreamer Wakes

by Cao Xueqin

  Both Bao-yu on the outside of the window and Nightingale on the inside were greatly startled by this intruder – who turned out to be Musk. Bao-yu felt most embarrassed, as Musk continued:

  ‘What is going on here? One grovelling for forgiveness, the other refusing to take any notice. Come on now, you hurry up and apologize; and as for you, Nightingale, you’re being altogether too cruel! It’s dreadfully cold out here, and he’s been pleading with you for ages and not had so much as a breath of a response!’

  She turned to Bao-yu:

  ‘It’s late, and Mrs Bao’s been wondering where you are. To think that you’ve been here all along, standing out on your own under the eaves! What are you up to?’

  ‘Honestly!’ protested Nightingale from inside. ‘This is ridiculous! I simply asked him to go away. I told him that whatever he had to talk about could wait till the morning. What’s the sense in all this?’

  Bao-yu still wanted to speak to Nightingale, but now that they were no longer alone, he felt too embarrassed to continue. He resigned himself to returning with Musk, saying as he walked away:

  ‘So be it! I shall never in this lifetime be able to prove my true feelings! Heaven alone will know the truth!’

  Tears started suddenly to his eyes and rolled in torrents down his cheeks.

  ‘Mr Bao!’ said Musk. ‘Take my advice and put the whole thing out of your mind. You’re wasting your tears.’

  Bao-yu followed her silently to his room. Bao-chai was lying asleep, or rather, as he judged, feigning sleep, but Aroma greeted him with a rebuke:

  ‘Couldn’t it have waited till tomorrow? Did you have to go storming out there and work yourself up into another …’

  Whatever she had been about to say, she thought better of it, and after a short pause went on to ask:

  ‘Are you sure you’re not feeling poorly?’

  Bao-yu said nothing, but shook his head. Aroma put him to bed and it goes without saying that he spent a sleepless night.

  Nightingale was most distressed by Bao-yu’s visit, and she too lay awake the whole of that night, weeping and reflecting deeply to herself:

  ‘It seems plain that the family conspired together and tricked him into the wedding at a time when he was too ill to understand. Then afterwards, when he knew what he had done, he suffered one of his attacks and that’s why he hasn’t been able to stop weeping and moping ever since. He’s obviously not the heartless, wicked person I took him for. Why, today his devotion was so touching, I felt really sorry for him. What a dreadful pity it is that our Miss Lin never had the fortune to be his bride! Such unions are clearly determined by fate. Until fate reveals itself, men continue to indulge in blind passion and fond imaginings; then, when the die is cast and the truth is known, the fools may remain impervious, but the ones who care deeply, the men of true sentiment, can only weep bitterly at the futility of their romantic attachments, at the tragedy of their earthly plight. She is dead and knows nothing; but he still lives, and there is no end to his suffering and torment. Better by far the destiny of plant or stone, bereft of knowledge and consciousness, but blessed at least with purity and peace of mind!’

  These philosophical reflections cooled the feverish turmoil in Nightingale’s mind, and she was tidying up and preparing to go to bed, when she heard a great rumpus break out in the direction of Xi-feng’s apartment to the east. But to discover what this portended, you must turn to the next chapter.

  Chapter 114

  Wang Xi-feng ends her life’s illusion and returns to Jinling

  Zhen Ying-jia receives the Emperor’s favour and is summoned to the Palace

  It was the middle of the night when Bao-yu and Bao-chai were awoken and informed that Xi-feng was dying. They rose from bed at once, a maid brought a lighted candle, and they were on their way out of the courtyard, when another message came from Lady Wang:

  ‘Mrs Lian’s condition is critical, but she is still alive, and Mr and Mrs Bao should wait a while. There is something odd about Mrs Lian’s state; from midnight until two o’clock this morning she wouldn’t stop talking, and we couldn’t make head or tail of what she was saying. One minute she was demanding a boat, the next a sedan-chair; then she was “off to Jinling to be entered on the Register” … No one could understand a word, and she just kept on crying and wailing. There was nothing for it but for Mr Lian to go and get a paper boat and sedan made for her. He hasn’t come back with them yet, and Mrs Lian is waiting for him, gasping for breath. Her Ladyship wants you both to wait and to come after Mrs Lian has finally passed away.’

  ‘How extraordinary!’ exclaimed Bao-yu. ‘What does she want in Jinling?’

  ‘Didn’t you see some registers in a dream once?’ whispered Aroma. ‘Perhaps that’s where Mrs Lian is going.’

  Bao-yu nodded:

  ‘Yes! If only I hadn’t forgotten what was written in them. Our lives are clearly preordained by destiny. I wonder where destiny has taken Cousin Lin? What you said just now, Aroma, about the registers, has set me thinking. If I ever have a dream like that again, I must be more observant. I may see things and be able to predict the future.’

  ‘Hark at you!’ retorted Aroma. ‘It’s impossible to have a sensible conversation with you. You insist on taking a chance remark of mine in deadly earnest. Even supposing you could see into the future, what good would it do you anyway?’

  ‘It will probably never come to pass,’ replied Bao-yu. ‘But if I ever did know the future, then at least it would mean an end to all the worries that plague me on your account.’

  Bao-chai came up to them:

  ‘What are you two talking about?’

  Bao-yu was afraid of being subjected to one of her inquisitions, and merely replied:

  ‘We were discussing Cousin Feng.’

  ‘There she is dying,’ exclaimed Bao-chai, ‘and you’re discussing her! You accused me last year of being unduly gloomy and bringing her bad luck; but wasn’t my interpretation of that oracle the right one after all?’

  Bao-yu thought for a moment, then clapped his hands:

  ‘Of course! Of course you were right! You’re obviously the prophet in the family! Well, let me consult you myself. What’s in store for me?’

  ‘Off you go on one of your hobbyhorses again!’ Bao-chai chided him with a smile. ‘Mine was simply an off-the-cuff explanation for the wording of the oracle. There’s really no need to take it seriously. You’re as bad as Xiu-yan. When you lost your jade, she asked Adamantina to consult the planchette, and the answer was totally unintelligible to everyone; but that didn’t stop Xiu-yan from talking to me in private about Adamantina’s amazing powers of clairvoyance, saying how enlightened and advanced she was in her Zen practice. And yet look at this calamity that’s befallen Adamantina now – why couldn’t she have predicted that? What sort of clairvoyance is that supposed to be? Just because I said something once about Cousin Feng, that doesn’t mean I ever claimed to see into her future, or into my own for that matter. Claims of that sort are fantastic and don’t deserve to be taken seriously.’

  ‘All right,’ said Bao-yu, ‘let’s drop the subject. Tell me about Xiu-yan instead. We’ve been so busy that her wedding seems to have passed us by altogether. That was an important event for your family, and yet it was celebrated with so little ceremony. Didn’t you even invite any relatives and friends?’

  ‘You’ve missed the point again,’ replied Bao-chai. ‘My own family’s closest relatives are the Jias and the Wangs. There’s no one respectable left in the Wang family now, and the Jias weren’t invited because my mother knew we’d be too busy with Grandmother’s funeral. Lian lent a hand, and one or two other relations came – but you wouldn’t know about that, as you weren’t there. If you think about it, things were much the same for Xiu-yan as they were for me. She was formally engaged to Cousin Ke, and Mama wanted a stylish wedding. But in the first place, Pan was still in gaol, so Cousin Ke wanted to keep it simple; then there was Grandmother’s funeral; and Xiu-yan was havi
ng such a hard time at Aunt Xing’s, especially after the confiscation, when Aunt Xing became stingier than ever. Poor Xiu-yan, she could hardly bear it. I talked to Mama, and in the end she decided to go ahead and make do with a simple ceremony. Xiu-yan seems a lot happier now and she is so good to Mama, far better than her real daughter-in-law ever was. She’s a wonderful wife to Ke, and gets on very well with Caltrop. If Ke has to be away for some reason, the two of them still manage very happily together. They are a bit hard up, but Mama is a great deal more relaxed than she used to be. She still gets upset about Pan, and he’s always writing to her from gaol and asking for more money. But luckily Cousin Ke has been able to collect some of the debts that were owing, and has sent Pan the money from that. Some of our town properties have had to be mortgaged too. We still have one house left, and that’s where Mama is planning to move now.’

  ‘What’s the need?’ protested Bao-yu. ‘It’s so much more convenient for you to have them living close by. If they move so far away, it will be a whole day’s expedition to visit them.’

  ‘Even when families are as closely related as ours,’ said Bao-chai, ‘it’s really much better in the long run to be independent. Mama can’t go on for ever living on charity.’

  Bao-yu was about to expand on the reasons for their not moving, when a final message came from Lady Wang, to say that Xi-feng had passed away, and all the family had now arrived in her apartment. Would Bao-yu and Bao-chai please join them there? Bao-yu stamped his foot and seemed about to burst into tears. Bao-chai too was deeply moved, but controlled herself for fear of upsetting Bao-yu any further.

  ‘We should keep our tears for later,’ she counselled.

  They both made their way directly to Xi-feng’s room, where they found a weeping throng gathered. Bao-chai went forward to the bedside, where Xi-feng’s body was already laid out, and gave a great cry of grief. Bao-yu held Jia Lian’s hand and sobbed loudly, which set Jia Lian off again. Patience, seeing that no one else was capable of offering any comfort, stepped forward, and tried to mask her own grief and urge moderation. Sounds of inconsolable weeping continued to fill the room none the less.

  Jia Lian was in a helpless dither. He sent for Lai Da, and told him to make whatever preparations were necessary for the funeral. He himself reported Xi-feng’s death to Jia Zheng and then went to see what other arrangements he could make. But there were simply no funds; it was an impossible task. Fond memories of Xi-feng brought tears constantly to his eyes and his distress was made still more acute by the pitiful sight of Qiao-jie, crying her heart out for her mother. The weeping continued all that night. At dawn Jia Lian sent a messenger for Xi-feng’s elder brother Wang Ren.

  The death of his older uncle Wang Zi-teng had left Wang Ren free to carry on very much as he pleased. Zi-sheng, the surviving younger uncle, was too ineffective a character to control him, and Wang Ren had already by his behaviour succeeded in causing considerable discord in the family. Now, learning of the death of his younger sister, he hurried over (with a slightly ill grace) to perform his duty as a bereaved brother and mourn for her. On his arrival he observed immediately how makeshift the funeral arrangements were and voiced his indignation in no uncertain terms:

  ‘Years my sister toiled for you, did a fine job of it too. The least you owe her is a proper funeral. You should be ashamed of yourselves, making such a poor show of it!’

  Jia Lian had never been on good terms with his brother-in-law, and, when he heard him blustering on like this, turned a deaf ear. Wang Ren next called Qiao-jie aside.

  ‘My girl,’ he said to her, ‘while your mother was alive, she had one shortcoming: she was too anxious to please Lady Jia, and as a result she neglected her own family. But you’re old enough now to make decisions yourself, my dear! Look at me, have I ever tried to profit from you? Now that your mother is dead, you must look to me and do as I tell you. Your great-uncle and I are your mother’s family. I know your father, he’ll go out of his way to bow and scrape to anyone, rather than take any notice of us. When that fancy woman of his, that Auntie You, died, I wasn’t in town, but I heard that a lot of money was spent on her. And now he’s scrimping on your own mother’s funeral. Don’t you think you ought to have a word with him about it, and make him see sense?’

  ‘Father would like nothing more than to have a nice funeral,’ said Qiao-jie. ‘But things have changed. We haven’t enough money, so of course we have to be a bit careful.’

  ‘What about your own things?’ pursued Wang Ren relentlessly. ‘Surely you’ve something left yourself?’

  ‘It all went in the raid last year,’ said Qiao-jie. ‘I’ve got nothing left at all.’

  ‘Are you trying me on too?’ expostulated Wang Ren. ‘I know that Lady Jia gave away all sorts of things. You ought to produce your share now.’

  Qiao-jie could not bring herself to admit that her father had already taken her share and sold it, and so pretended not to understand what he was referring to.

  ‘I know!’ exclaimed Wang. ‘You’re keeping it for your trousseau!’

  Qiao-jie refused to say another word. Wang Ren had already offended her with his remarks and she began to sob until she was almost choking with emotion.

  ‘If you have anything else to say, sir,’ protested Patience heatedly, ‘please wait until Mr Lian comes back. Miss Qiao-jie is much too young to understand.’

  ‘As for you, you’ve just been itching for my sister to die, haven’t you!’ sneered Wang Ren. ‘The lot of you! So you could step into her shoes … I’m not asking for much; just a decent funeral. Surely you don’t want to disgrace your own family?’

  He sat himself down in a surly fashion.

  Qiao-jie was feeling very miserable. ‘I know Father does care,’ she was thinking to herself. ‘And besides, when Mother was alive, Uncle Ren sneaked off with all sorts of stuff of hers himself, so he’s got no right to complain.’

  In her eyes Wang Ren was rather a despicable sort of person. He for his part secretly reckoned to himself that Xi-feng must have kept her own private hoard, and that despite the raid there was bound to be silver somewhere in her apartment – and a fair amount of it too.

  ‘They probably think I’ve come to sponge, and the girl is trying to protect them. She won’t be any use to me, the little wretch!’

  He began to conceive an intense dislike for his niece.

  Jia Lian was far too busy trying to rustle up money for the funeral to take in all these complications. He had delegated the ‘outer’ formalities to Lai Da, but he still needed a lot of money for the ‘inner’ reception and could not see how he was going to find it. Patience was aware of his predicament.

  ‘You mustn’t overdo things, sir,’ she urged him. ‘You’ll only make yourself ill.’

  ‘Ill!’ exclaimed Jia Lian, somewhat histrionically. ‘That’s the least of my worries! We can’t even find the money to get by from day to day, let alone pay for the funeral. And to make matters worse, now I’ve got this idiot round my neck!’

  ‘There’s really no need to work yourself into such a state, sir,’ said Patience. ‘If you’ve no money, I’ve a few things that were not taken in the raid. Use them if you like.’

  ‘What a wonderful stroke of luck!’ thought Jia Lian to himself. He smiled at Patience:

  ‘That would be a real help. It would save me from having to race around trying to raise the money. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.’

  ‘Whatever I have was given me by Mrs Lian in the first place,’ said Patience. ‘So there’s really no need to pay me back. I just want the funeral to be done properly, that’s all.’

  Jia Lian accepted Patience’s offer with sincere gratitude, and pawned her belongings for the funeral expenses. From then on he made a point of discussing everything with her. Autumn was most put out, and took every opportunity to mutter complaints:

  ‘Now that Mrs Lian is gone, Patience thinks she can take over. The Master gave me to Mr Lian; how can Patience think to climb above me?’
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  Patience noticed Autumn’s disgruntled attitude, but paid no attention. Jia Lian, for his part, found Autumn’s resentment (which he observed soon enough) most objectionable, and whenever anything happened to annoy him he vented his bad humour on her. Lady Xing criticized him for this, and he felt obliged to restrain himself. But of this no more.

  In due course, after Xi-feng’s encoffined corpse had been laid out for ten days, it was escorted to the temple. Jia Zheng was still in mourning for Grandmother Jia and was confined to his study during the period of Xi-feng’s funeral. His entourage of literary gentlemen had gradually deserted him. Only Cheng Ri-xing still called regularly. On one occasion Jia Zheng was speaking to him on the general subject of the family’s decline:

  ‘See how one by one we are dying off! My elder brother and young Zhen are both in exile. Our finances deteriorate daily. And who knows what has become of our country estates in the Eastern provinces. Altogether, a disastrous state of affairs!’

  ‘I have been here many years, sir,’ said Cheng, ‘and I have seen for myself how busy your staff are, enriching themselves at your expense. Every year sees money draining from your pockets into theirs. It is ruining you. Then there is the money needed for the families of Sir She and Mr Zhen, and the sizeable debts incurred besides, and the loss sustained as a result of the recent burglary, which I hardly think will be recovered. If you wish to put your house in order, sir, the only remedy I envisage is for you to assemble your staff, and to charge your most trustworthy steward with a comprehensive investigation of their accounts. In that way you can judge in which department retrenchment is possible. Deficits should be made good by the individual steward responsible. That way you will at least know where you stand.

  ‘Then there’s the Garden. It is too large for anyone to buy. But it is a shame that a place with such potential for profit should have been so neglected. During the years that you have been away, sir, the staff there have been manufacturing all manner of frightening tales, which have had the effect of deterring everyone from entering the place. All your troubles are, in short, the doing of the servants. You should make a thorough investigation, and dismiss any unsatisfactory elements among them. It is the only remedy that makes sense.’