A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  ‘The body is a Bodhi tree,

  The mind a mirror clear,

  Then keep it cleaned and polished—

  Let no dust settle there.’

  “Huineng heard this as he was hulling rice in the kitchen and commented. ‘Very fine, but it needs rounding off.’ With that he declaimed:

  ‘The Bodhi tree is no tree,

  The mirror no mirror clear;

  Since nothing actually exists,

  Where can any dust appear?’

  Then the Fifth Patriarch passed on his robe and alms bowl to him. Your verse amounts to much the same thing. But what about the conundrum you set him just now? He hasn’t answered it yet. How can you leave it at that?”

  “Failure to answer promptly means defeat,” said Daiyu. “And even if he answered it now it would hardly count. But you mustn’t talk about Chan any more. You know even less about it than the two of us yet you dabble in metaphysics.”

  Baoyu had in fact fancied that he had already attained enlightenment, but now that he had been floored by Daiyu, and Baochai had quoted Buddhist lore that he had never suspected her of knowing, he thought to himself, “They understand more about these things than I do, yet still they haven’t attained full enlightenment. Why should I trouble my head over such matters?” Thereupon he said with a laugh:

  “I wasn’t dabbling in metaphysics. I just wrote that for fun.”

  So the four of them made it up.

  Just then they were told that the Imperial Consort had sent over a lantern-riddle for everybody to guess, after which they were to make up a riddle apiece and send these to the Palace.

  At once the four of them hurried to the Lady Dowager’s quarters where they found a young eunuch with a square, flat-topped lantern of red gauze made specially for lantern-riddles. One riddle was already hanging on it. They gathered round to read it and try to guess it, while the eunuch passed on the order:

  “When the young ladies have guessed, they are not to tell anyone their answers but write them down privately to be sealed up and taken to the Palace. Her Royal Highness will See which are correct.”

  Baochai Stepped forward with the others then to look at the riddle. It was a quite nondescript quatrain, but of course she praised its ingenuity and pretended to be thinking hard although she had guessed it at once. Baoyu, Daiyu, Xiangyun and Tanchun had guessed it too and they went off quietly to write down their answers. Then Jia Huan, Jia Lan and others were fetched, and having racked their brains they wrote down their answers. After that each made up a riddle, copied it out neatly and hung it on the lantern for the eunuch to take away.

  Towards evening the eunuch returned to announce that the Imperial Consort’s riddle had been correctly guessed by all except the Second Young Lady and Third Young Master, and Her Highness had thought of answers to theirs but did not know whether or not they were correct. With that he showed them the answers written down. Some were right, others wrong, but all made haste to say they were correct.

  The eunuch then proceeded to give the winners their prizes: a poem-container made in the Palace and a bamboo whisk for cleaning teapots. The only two left out were Yingchun and Jia Huan, and while she regarded this as a game and did not take it to heart he was most disappointed.

  And then the eunuch announced, “Her Highness did not attempt to guess the answer to the Third Young Master’s riddle, because it did not seem to her to make sense. She told me to bring it back and ask what it means.”

  All of them gathered round to read the riddle:

  First Brother has eight corners,

  Second Brother two horns instead;

  Second Brother likes to squat on the roof,

  First Brother just sits on the bed.

  A roar of laughter went up, and Jia Huan told the eunuch that the answer was a head-rest and an animal-head tile. The eunuch having noted this down accepted some tea and then left.

  The old lady was delighted to know that Yuanchun was in such good spirits. She ordered a dainty screen-lantern to be made at once and put in the hall so that the girls could make up riddles and paste them on it. Scented tea and sweetmeats were prepared, as well as various little prizes.

  Jia Zheng on his return from court found his mother in a cheerful frame of mind, and since this was a festival he came over that evening to join in the fun. He also had refreshments and prizes prepared and coloured lanterns lit in the hall, then invited the old lady in to see them. She sat with Jia Zheng and Baoyu at the highest table, while below, Lady Wang, Baochai, Daiyu and Xiangyun occupied one table and Yingchun, Tanchun and Xichun another. The hall was thronged with nurses and maids in attendance. Li Wan and Xifeng had a table in the inner room.

  When Jia Zheng commented on Jia Lan’s absence, a nurse went inside to ask Li Wan the reason. She rose to reply:

  “He says he won’t come because the master hasn’t invited him.”

  When this was reported to Jia Zheng the others laughed and remarked, “What a queer, stubborn boy.”

  Jia Zheng promptly sent Jia Huan and two serving-women to fetch him. And the Lady Dowager made him sit next to her and helped him to dainties, while the others chatted and enjoyed themselves.

  Normally Baoyu liked to hold forth at great length but today, in his father’s presence, he simply answered briefly when spoken to; and Xiangyun, although a great chatterbox for a girl, seemed afflicted with dumbness by her uncle too. Daiyu was too reserved ever to talk much in company, and Baochai also behaved in the manner natural to her, choosing her words with care. So mere was a constraint about this family party.

  The Lady Dowager, knowing that Jia Zheng was the cause, suggested after three rounds of drinks that he should withdraw to rest. Aware that she wanted him out of the way so that the young people might enjoy themselves better, Jia Zheng said with a smile:

  “When I heard today that you had prepared all these lantern-riddles, I brought some gifts and delicacies to join in. Won’t you spare your son a little of the love you have for your grandchildren?”

  The old lady chuckled.

  “None of them will laugh and talk with you here, and that’s very dull,” she said. “Well, if it’s riddles you want, I’ll give you one. But if you guess wrong you’ll have to pay a forfeit.”

  “Certainly. And if I guess right shall I win a prize?”

  “Of course.”

  Then she recited, “The monkey, being light of limb, stands on the topmost branch. It’s the name of a fruit.”

  Jia Zheng knew of course that the answer was lichee, but he deliberately gave wrong answers and had to pay several forfeits before he guessed right and received a prize from his mother. Then he in turn set her a riddle:

  Its body is square,

  Its substance firm and hard;

  Though it cannot speak

  It will assuredly record anything said.

  —A useful object.

  He whispered the answer to Baoyu, who took the hint and secretly old his grandmother. The old lady thought it over and decided he was right

  “An inkstone,” she said.

  “Trust you, mother, to get it right first time.” Jia Zheng smiled and turned to order, “Bring in the presents.” There was an answering cry from the women below, who brought forward various trays and little boxes. The lady Dowager, inspecting them one by one, was delighted to find them novelties for the Lantern Festival.

  “Pour wine for the master,” she ordered.

  Baoyu poured the wine and Yingchun presented it, after which the old lady said:

  “Let me hear you guess some of the riddles the children have put on the screen.”

  Jia Zheng rose and walked up to the screen. The first riddle he saw was:

  Monsters I can affright and put to flight;

  A roll of silk my form; my thunderous crash

  Strikes dread into the hearts of all,

  Yet when they look around I’ve turned to ash.

  “Isn’t this a firecracker?” asked Jia Zheng. When Baoyu said that
was right, his father read on:

  No end to the labours of men, to heaven’s decrees,

  But labour unblessed by Heaven will fruitless be.

  What causes this constant, frenzied activity?

  The uncertainty of mortal destiny.

  “An abacus?”

  Yingchun agreed with a smile. Jia Zheng read the next riddle:

  The children by the steps look up:

  Spring surely has no fitter decoration.

  But when the silk cord breaks it drifts away,

  Blame not the east wind for this separation.

  “That sounds like a kite,” said Jia Zheng.

  When Tanchun had confirmed this he looked at another riddle:

  A former life’s appearance come to nought,

  Deaf to folk-songs the chanting of sutras she now hears;

  Say not this life is sunk in a sea of darkness,

  For in her heart a shining light appears.

  “The lamp before a Buddhist shrine?” queried Jia Zheng.

  “Yes,” said Xichun with a smile.

  Jia Zheng thought to himself: “Her Royal Highness wrote about a firecracker which disintegrates after a single explosion. Yingchun’s subject, the abacus, is in constant commotion; Tanchun’s kite is something which drifts away with the wind; Xichun’s temple lamp is even more lonely and neglected. What ill-omened subjects for all of them to choose so soon after the New Year!”

  The more he reflected, the deeper his dismay. But in his mother’s presence he dared not disclose it and forced himself to look at the other riddles. Observing that the last was a verse by Baochai, he read it.

  Who leaves the levee with smoke-scented sleeves?

  Not destined by the lute or quilt to sit,

  It needs no watchman to announce the dawn,

  No maid at the fifth watch to replenish it.

  Burned with anxiety both day and night,

  Consumed with anguish as time slips away,

  As life speeds past we learn to hold it dear—

  What cares it whether foul or fair the day?

  After reading this Jia Zheng reflected with dismay, “The object itself isn’t ill-omened, but what inauspicious lines for a young girl to write. It doesn’t look as if any of these girls will have good fortune or long life.”

  Sunk in gloom be looked the picture of grief as he lowered his head in thought.

  His mother imagined that he must be tired, and felt his presence was spoiling the young people’s enjoyment.

  “There’s no need for you to guess any more answers,” she said. “You’d better go and rest. We shan’t sit up much longer either.”

  Jia Zheng assented with alacrity and forced himself to toast his mother once more before he withdrew. Back in his own apartment, he turned the matter over in his mind with a grievous sense of foreboding and was unable to sleep. But no more of this.

  As soon as he had gone the Lady Dowager urged her grand-children, “Now relax and have some fun!”

  Baoyu had already run up to the screen-lantern and was prancing about like a monkey freed from its chain, pulling different riddles to pieces.

  “Why not sit down as you were before,” said Baochai, “and chat with us in a more civilized way?”

  Xifeng, who had joined them now, chimed in, “you ought to have the master keeping you by his side all the time. I forgot just now to suggest that you should make up some riddles in his presence. If I had, I’m sure you’d still be in a cold sweat.”

  Baoyu made a frantic grab at her and a scrimmage ensued.

  After chatting a little with Li Wan and the girls the Lady Dowager began to feel tired, and hearing the fourth watch sounded she ordered the food to be cleared away, telling the servants they could have what was left.

  “Let’s rest now,” she said, rising to her feet. “Tomorrow’s still a holiday, and we ought to get up early. We can enjoy ourselves again in the evening.”

  To know what happened next day, read the chapter which follows.

  Chapter 23

  Lines from “The Western Chamber” Are Quoted in Fun

  A Song from “Peony Pavilion” Distresses a Tender Heart

  After Yuanchun’s return to the Palace from her visit to Grand View Garden she gave instructions that Tanchun should copy out all the poems written that day for her to arrange in order of merit, because she wished them to be inscribed on the tablets in the Garden as a lasting memorial to that splendid occasion. Jia Zheng accordingly ordered skilled artisans to be found to polish and engrave the stones under the supervision of Jia Zhen, assisted by Jia Rong and Jia Ping. As Jia Qiang had his hands full looking after the twelve actresses and their properties, he asked Jia Chang and Jia Ling to supervise the work instead. In due course wax was melted over the tablets and the poems were engraved in vermilion. But no more of this.

  The twenty-four young Buddhists and Taoists from the Dharma Convent and Jade Emperor’s Temple in the Garden had now been moved out, and Jia Zheng had been thinking of sending them to various temples elsewhere. Word of this reached Jia Qin’s mother nee Zhou who lived in the street behind just as she had decided to look in Jia Zheng’s house for some remunerative job, whether big or small, for her son. So she came by sedan-chair to enlist Xifeng’s help.

  As this woman was normally unassuming, Xifeng agreed. Having thought out the right approach she told Lady Wang:

  “We mustn’t send away the little Buddhists and Taoists, because they’ll be needed next time Her Highness comes, and it would be hard to get them together again if once they’d been dispersed. My idea is to move them all to our family’s Iron Threshold Temple. Then all we need do is to send someone with a few taels of silver every month for their firewood and rice, and they can be fetched back if needed without any trouble.”

  Lady Wang passed on this proposal to her husband. “Quite right,” he agreed. “I’m glad you reminded me.” He sent for Jia Lian.

  Jia Lian and Xifeng were having their meal together when this summons arrived. Not knowing what he was wanted for, he put down his rice bowl at once and started out.

  “Wait a minute and listen to me!” She caught hold of his arm. “If this is some other business, that’s not my affair; but if it’s about those little novices, you must handle it my way.” She told him then exactly what to say.

  Jia Lian shook his head, laughing.

  “This is none of my business. If you’re so clever, go and ask uncle yourself.”

  Xifeng threw back her head and laid down her chopsticks, staring at Jia Lian with an icy smile.

  “Do you mean that, or are you joking?”

  “Yun, the son of Fifth Sister-in-Law who lives in West Lane, has come several times begging me to find him a job, and I promised him I would if he would wait. Now here’s a job at last, but as usual you want to snatch it away.”

  “Don’t worry. Her Highness wants more pines and cypresses planted in the northeast corner of the Garden, as well as more flowers at the foot of the tower. When that job comes up, I promise to let Yun have it.”

  “All right then,” he chuckled. “But why were you so uncooperative last night when all I wanted was to try something different?”

  Xifeng snorted with laughter and spat at him in mock disgust, then lowered her head and went on with her meal.

  Grinning broadly, Jia Lian left. When he found that his uncle had indeed sent for him about the novices, taking his cue from his wife he suggested:

  “Jia Qin seems to be shaping well. We might entrust this to him. He can just draw the allowance every month in the usual way.”

  Since Jia Zheng never took much interest in such matters, he made no objection. As soon as Jia Lian went back to tell Xifeng, she sent a maid to notify Jia Qin’s mother, and the young man came to thank them both profusely. As a special favour Xifeng asked her husband to let him have three months’ allowance in advance and made him write a receipt, to which Jia Lian put his signature. He was then given the tally to fetch from the treasury thr
ee months’ allowance—two or three hundred taels of glittering silver. One piece he picked up casually and gave as a tip to the men who had weighed the silver, “For a cup of tea,” as he put it. The rest he told his servant to carry home. On his mother’s advice he lost no time in hiring a sturdy donkey for himself and several covered carts. Taking these round to the side gate of the Rong Mansion, he called out the twenty-four little novices and seated them in the carts. Then together they set off for Iron Threshold Temple. And there we leave them.

  Now it had occurred to Yuanchun while she was editing the poems on Grand View Garden that it would be a pity if her father locked up such charming pleasure grounds after her visit in deference to her, so that nobody could go there. The more so when the girls of the family had a taste for poetizing, and if they were to move there the Garden would make a perfect setting for them while its flowers and willows would not lack admirers. Then she reflected that Baoyu was unlike other boys, having been brought up among girls, so that if he alone were excluded he would feel left out in the cold, and this might distress the Lady Dowager and Lady Wang. She had better give directions for him to move in there too.

  Having reached this decision, she sent the eunuch Xia Shouzhong to the Rong Mansion with the order: “Baochai and the other young ladies are to live in the Garden, which is not to be closed. Baoyu is to move in as well to continue his studies there.”

  This edict was received by Jia Zheng and Lady Wang. As soon as the eunuch had left, they reported it to the Lady Dowager and sent servants to clean up the Garden and prepare the buildings, hanging up blinds, portieres and bed-curtains.