A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  Thus silenced, Baoyu let them help him to the kang and take off his clothes. He was still mumbling to himself but could hardly keep his eyes open, so they put him straight to bed. Xiren took the precious jade off his neck, wrapped it up in her own handkerchief and tucked it under his mattress, so that it should not be cold to the touch when he put it on the next day.

  Baoyu fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Meantime, Nanny Li had come in. Hearing that he was drunk she dared not risk further trouble, and having quietly made sure that he was asleep she left easier in her mind.

  Upon waking the next morning, Baoyu was told that Jia Rong from the other mansion had brought Qin Zhong over to pay his respects. He hastened to greet his new friend and presented him to the Lady Dowager, who was delighted by his handsome looks and pleasing manner. Convinced that he would make an excellent schoolmate for Baoyu, she kept him to tea and a meal, then ordered servants to take him to meet Lady Wang and the rest of the family.

  Qin Keqing was a general favourite, and they liked her brother for himself as well. All gave him presents on parting. The Lady Dowager’s gift was a purse containing a small golden effigy of the God of Learning symbolizing literary talent and harmony.

  “You live so far away,” she said, “in hot or cold weather you may find the journey too much. You are welcome to stay here and must make yourself at home. Stay with your Uncle Baoyu, and don’t get into mischief with those lazy young rascals.”

  Qin Zhong agreed readily, then went home to report what had happened. His father Qin Ye, a secretary in the Board of Works, was nearly seventy and had lost his wife early. Having no children of his own he had adopted a son and daughter from an orphanage, but the boy had died leaving only the little girl, Keqing. She grew up to be a graceful, charming young woman. Because Qin was remotely connected with the Jia family, they arranged a match and she became Jia Rong’s wife.

  Qin Zhong was born when his father was over fifty. His tutor had died the previous year and Qin Ye had not yet found another; thus the boy had been revising his lessons at home. His father was thinking of approaching the Jias about sending his son to their school in order not to waste the boy’s time, when as luck would have it Qin Zhong met Baoyu.

  The old man was also overjoyed to learn that the school was now run by Jia Dairu, a venerable Confucian scholar under whose instruction Qin Zhong was bound to make progress and might even win a name for himself.

  Qin Ye was a poor official, but the whole Jia household, high and low alike, thought so much of riches and rank that in the interest of his son’s career he had to pinch and scrape to get together twenty-four taels of silver as a handsome entrance gift. Then he took Qin Zhong to pay his respects to Jia Dairu, after which they waited for Baoyu to fix a day on which both boys could enter school.

  Truly:

  If one knew that in time to come there would be trouble,

  Who would send his son to study today?

  Chapter 9

  Devoted Friends Join the Clan School

  Mud-Slinging Boys Brawl in the Classroom

  Qin Ye and his son did not have long to wait for a message from the Jia family telling them the date on which to start school, for Baoyu was so eager to be with Qin Zhong he could think of nothing else. He sent a servant with a note asking his friend to come to his house in two days’ time, in the morning, to go to school together.

  On the day appointed, while Baoyu was still asleep, Xiren made a neat package of his books and writing materials, then sat down dejectedly on the edge of the kang. When he woke, she helped him with his toilet

  “Why are you looking so unhappy, dear sister?” he asked gently. “Are you upset because you’ll all feel lonely while I’m at school?”

  “What an idea!” She smiled. “There’s nothing like study, if you don’t want to be a failure in life and get nowhere. Just remember to keep your mind on your books in class, and out of class to think of the people at home. Don’t get into mischief with the other boys. It would be no joke if you were caught by the master. I know they say you should give your whole heart to study, but don’t overdo it or you’ll bite off more than you can chew and your health will suffer. At least that’s my idea. Do think it over.”

  Baoyu agreed with all she said.

  “I’ve packed your fur coats and given them to the pages,” Xiren continued. “If you find the school cold, mind you put more on, because we shan’t be there to look after you. I’ve given them charcoal for your hand-stove and foot-stove too. Mind those lazy scamps keep them filled. If you don’t keep them up to scratch they won’t lift a finger but leave you to freeze.”

  “Don’t worry,” Baoyu assured her. “I know how to take care of myself outside. And you mustn’t stay here moping either, but drop in from time to time to chat with cousin Daiyu.”

  By now he was dressed and she urged him to pay his respects to his grandmother and parents. After some brief instructions to Qingwen and Sheyue, he took his leave of the Lady Dowager, who naturally had some advice for him too. He went next to his mother and then to his father’s study.

  Jia Zheng happened to have come home early today. He was talking with some secretaries and proteges when Baoyu went in to pay his respects and announce his departure to school.

  “Don’t make me die of shame with this talk about school.” His father laughed scornfully. “All you’re fit for, in my opinion, is to go on fooling about. Your presence here contaminates this place and contaminates my door.”

  “Your Lordship is too hard on him,” protested his companions, who had risen. “A few years at school and your worthy son is sure to show his mettle and make a name. He’s not a child any more. It’s nearly time for breakfast, he should be off.” With that, two of the older men led Baoyu out.

  Jia Zheng asked who was accompanying his son, and three or four sturdy fellows who had been waiting outside came in and fell on one knee to pay their respects.

  Recognizing Li Gui, the son of Baoyu’s old wet-nurse, Jia Zheng demanded, “What has he learned all the time you’ve attended him at his lessons? Nothing but a pack of nonsense and some clever tricks. As soon as I have leisure I’ll flay you alive and then settle accounts with that young reprobate.”

  In consternation Li Gui fell on both knees, snatched off his cap and thumped his head on the ground submissively.

  “I wouldn’t dare tell a lie, sir,” he exclaimed. “The young master has studied three volumes of the Book of Songs, down to ‘yu-yu cry the deer, lotus leaves and duckweed.’“

  This unintentional travesty of the original line set the whole room in a roar of laughter. Even Jia Zhen himself could not help smiling.

  “Even if he studied another thirty volumes, it would just be fooling people,” he retorted. “Give my compliments to the school principal, and tell him from me that such works as the Book of Songs and classical essays are a waste of time. He’d far better expound the Four Books and make his pupils learn them by heart.

  Li Gui promised to do this and then withdrew, seeing that his master had no further orders.

  All this time Baoyu had been waiting with bated breath in the courtyard. He hurried away as soon as he saw them emerging from the house.

  Li Gui and the others, dusting off their clothes, asked, “Did you hear that? He’s going to flay us alive. Other people’s slaves get some reflected credit from their masters. All we get for waiting on you is beatings and abuse. Do have a little pity on us in future.”

  “Cheer up, good brothers,” replied Baoyu with a smile. “I’ll give you a treat tomorrow.”

  “Who are we to expect treats, little ancestor? Just listen to our advice once in a while.”

  By now they were back at the Lady Dowager’s quarters. She was chatting with Qin Zhong, who had been there for some time. The two boys exchanged greetings, then took their leave of her.

  Baoyu, remembering that he had not said goodbye to Daiyu, hurried to her room. She was sitting before her mirror by the window and smiled
when he told her that he was off to school.

  “Good,” she said. “So you’re going to ‘pluck fragrant osmanthus in the palace of the moon.’ I’m sorry I can’t see you off.”

  “Don’t have supper till I’m back, dear cousin,” he begged. “And wait for me to mix your rouge.”

  After chatting for a while he turned to leave.

  “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Baochai?’ Daiyu called after him

  With no answer but a smile he left with Qin Zhong.

  Now this Jia family school, which was only a li away, had been set up several generations earlier so that members of the clan who could not afford to engage a tutor would have somewhere to educate their sons. It was supported by those with official positions, who contributed according to the size of their stipends, and an elderly man of good reputation in the clan was elected to take charge of the boys’ instruction.

  When Baoyu and Qin Zhong had been introduced to the other students, they embarked on their studies. From this day onward the two of them became inseparable, going to school and leaving it together. And thanks to the Lady Dowager’s partiality, Qin Zhong often stayed for a few days with the Jia family. Indeed, she treated him like one of her own grandsons, giving him clothes, shoes and other necessities when she saw that his family was hard up. In less than a month he was on good terms with everyone in the Rong Mansion.

  Since Baoyu always followed his own bent regardless of what was due to his position, in his usual unconventional way he privately urged Qin Zhong: “We’re the same age, and schoolmates too. Let’s forget that we’re uncle and nephew and just be brothers and friends.”

  At first Qin Zhong would not agree to this, but since Baoyu kept calling him “brother” or using his courtesy name, he started doing the same.

  Now although all the pupils in this school were members of the Jia clan or relations by marriage, as the proverb so aptly says, “A dragon begets nine offspring, each one different.” And inevitably among so many boys there were low types too, snakes mixed up with dragons.

  These two new arrivals were both remarkably handsome. Qin Zhong was bashful and gentle, so shy that he blushed like a girl before he spoke, while Baoyu was naturally self effacing and modest, considerate to others and pleasant in his speech. And they were on such intimate terms, it was no wonder that their schoolmates suspected the worst. They began to talk about the pair behind their backs, spreading ugly rumours inside the school and out.

  Now Xue Pan had not been long in the Rong Mansion before he learned of this school, and the thought of all the boys there appealed to his baser instincts. So he enrolled as a student. But he was like the fisherman who fishes for three days and then suns his net for two. The fee he paid Jia Dairu was thrown away, for he had no intention of really studying, his sole aim being to find some ‘sweet-hearts’ there. In fact, tempted by his money and other gifts several boys did fall into his clutches, but we need not dwell on this.

  Chief among these were two amorous youths whose real names have not been ascertained, nor the branches of the family to which they belonged. But on account of their good looks and charm they were nicknamed Sweetie and Lovely. Although the object of general admiration, so that others also had designs on them, they were left unmolested for fear of Xue Pan.

  Baoyu and Qin Zhong were naturally attracted by these boys too, but knowing them to be Xue Pan’s friends they did not venture to make any overtures. Sweetie and Lovely were equally drawn to them. But not one of the four spoke of what was in his heart. Every day from four different seats four pairs of eyes kept meeting, and while trying to escape detection they contrived by hints and allusions to reveal their thoughts. However, some sly rascals discovered their secret and began to raise their eyebrows, wink, and cough or clear their throats behind their backs.

  This had been going on for some time when one day, as luck would have it, Jia Dairu went home early on business, giving the boys a seven-character line to be matched with another and promising them a new lesson in the classics the next day. He left his eldest grandson Jia Rui in charge. Qin Zhong took advantage of the fact that nowadays Xue Pan had virtually stopped coming even to roll-call to make eyes at Sweetie and secretly signal to him. Having asked to be excused, they went out to the back courtyard for a quiet chat.

  “Do your parents mind what friends you make?” asked Qin Zhong.

  The words were barely out of his mouth when a cough behind them made both boys look round in dismay. It was their schoolmate Jin Rong. Sweetie was a hot-tempered lad. In embarrassment and annoyance he demanded:

  “What are you coughing for? Can’t we talk if we want to?”

  “If you can talk, why can’t I cough?” Jin Rong sniggered. “But why not talk openly instead of in this hole-and-corner fashion? I’ve caught you at last. There’s no use denying it. Let me have a go first, and I’ll keep quiet about it. Otherwise I’ll rouse the whole school.”

  Flushing crimson the two boys demanded indignantly, “What have you caught us at?”

  “I’ve caught you red-handed!” Clapping and grinning, he yelled, “Fine pancakes for sale. Come on, fellows, and buy one.”

  The two friends rushed furiously in to complain to Jia Rui of Jin Rong’s uncalled-for insult.

  Now Jia Rui was an unscrupulous, grasping scoundrel who used his position in the school to fleece the boys. In return for money and good meals from Xue Pan, he had not checked his disgraceful behaviour but actually abetted him in order to curry favour.

  But Xue Pan was as fickle as water-weed which drifts east today, west tomorrow. Having recently acquired new friends he had dropped Sweetie and Lovely, to say nothing of Jin Rong whom they had replaced; and now that they were discarded, Jia Rui had nobody to put in a good word for him. Instead of blaming Xue Pan’s fickleness, he bore his favourites a grudge for this. And because he, Jin Rong and the rest all had this grievance against the two boys, when Qin Zhong and Sweetie came in with their complaint it only increased his annoyance. Not daring to reprove Qin Zhong he made a scapegoat of Sweetie, abusing him roundly for being a trouble-maker.

  After this rebuff, Sweetie and Qin Zhong returned sullenly to their seats while Jin Rong triumphantly wagged his head and smacked his lips as he poured out more abuse. This was too much for Lovely, and they started bickering from their respective places.

  “I saw them just now as plain as day in the back yard,” insisted Jin Rong. “They were discussing where and how to meet.”

  He held forth wildly regardless of who might hear, although one of his listeners was already enraged. And who do you think this was? It was Jia Qiang, a direct descendant of the Duke of Ningguo, who had been brought up by Jia Zhen after the untimely death of his own parents. He was now sixteen and even more handsome and engaging than Jia Rong, from whom he was virtually inseparable.

  Now “the more people, the more talk,” and the disgruntled servants in the Ning Mansion were good for nothing but slandering their masters. When their dirty talk reached Jia Zhen’s ears, to avoid coming under suspicion himself he had given Jia Qiang his own establishment outside the Ning Mansion and told him to live on his own.

  Jia Qiang was as intelligent as he was handsome, but he attended the school only as a blind for his visits to cock-fights, dog-races and brothels. None of his clansmen dared to cross him, however, because he was a favourite with Jia Zhen and had Jia Rong to stand by him. Naturally, intimate as he was with them, he was not going to let anyone bully Qin Zhong with impunity! His first impulse was to take his side openly, but on second thought he decided, “Jin Rong, Jia Rui and that lot are thick with Uncle Xue, who has always been on good terms with me. If I side against them and they tell Old Xue, that will spoil our friendly relations. If I do nothing, though, they’ll just spread these tiresome rumours. I must find some way of stopping their mouths without any loss of face.”

  He left the room on the customary excuse and quietly got hold of Mingyan, one of Baoyu’s pages, to work on his feelings with his acco
unt of the matter.

  Mingyan was Baoyu’s most serviceable page but he was young and inexperienced. Jia Qiang told him that the insults to Qin Zhong reflected on his master, and if Jin Rong were allowed to get away with this he would take even greater liberties the next time.

  Mingyan always liked to throw his weight about, and with this encouragement from Jia Qiang he rushed in to beard Jin Rong. Not addressing him as a servant should, he cried, “Hey, you fellow Jin! Who do you think you are?”

  At this point Jia Qiang stamped the dust off his boots, straightened his clothes and looking at the height of the sun remarked, “It’s time I was off.” He asked Jia Rui’s permission to leave early to deal with some business, and Jia Rui dared not stop him.

  By now Mingyan had grabbed hold of Jin Rong. “What we do is no business of yours,” he yelled. “If you’ve any guts, come and take on your Master Ming.”

  The whole roomful of boys was dumbfounded. “How dare you, Mingyan!” bellowed Jia Rui. Livid with anger Jin Rong bawled, “The rebel! How dare a slave run wild like this? I’ll have a word with your master.” Tearing himself loose he rounded on Baoyu and Qin Zhong.

  Wham! A square inkstone hurled by some unknown assailant whizzed past Jin Rong’s head to crash on to the next desk, one occupied by Jia Lan and Jia Jun.

  Jia Jun was a great-great-grandson of the Duck of Rongguo, and the only son of his mother who had been widowed early. He sat at the same desk as Jia Lan because they were firm friends. This hot-tempered, fearless little scamp had watched indifferently while one of Jin Rong’s friends hurled an inkstone at Mingyan; but when the stone landed smack in front of him, smashing his water-bottle and spattering his books with ink, this was more than he could stand.

  “You gaolbirds!” he swore. “If you want a fight, you can have it. “He grabbed his own inkstone ready to let it fly.