A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  “I just wanted to see where the bum is,” she said gently. “Why do you have to hide it?”

  She then came closer and turned his head to have a look.

  “Does it hurt much?” she asked.

  “Not really. I’ll be all right in a couple of days.”

  After keeping him company for a while she left, feeling rather depressed.

  The next day when Baoyu saw the Lady Dowager, although he took the blame for the burn on himself, sure enough she reprimanded all his attendants.

  Another day went by and they-had a visit from Priestess Ma, Baoyu’s Buddhist godmother. The sight of him gave her a shock and she asked with concern what had happened. Learning that he had been scalded she nodded and sighed, then passed her fingers over his face with some muttered incantations.

  “He’ll be all right now,” she declared. “This was just a chance misfortune. You don’t know, Old Ancestress, all the solemn warnings there are in the Buddhist sutras about the sons born into noble families, who are always dogged by evil spirits who pinch them, nip them, knock their rice-bowls out of their hands, or trip them up on the road. That’s why so many sons of great houses die young.”

  “Is there no way to prevent it?” asked the Lady Dowager anxiously.

  “Of course there is. Just do more good deeds on his behalf. The sutras tell us of a great Bodhisattva in the west whose glory illumines all around and whose special charge it is to bring to light the evil spirits in dark places. If faithful believers worship him devoutly, their descendants are assured of peace and health and no evil spirits can get possession of them.” .

  “What offerings does this Bodhisattva require?”

  “Nothing of any great value. Apart from incense and candles, a few catties of oil every day for the Big Lamp. For that lamp is a manifestation of the Bodhisattva. It has to be kept burning day and night.”

  “How much oil does it take to keep it burning for one whole day and night? If you tell me the exact amount, I should like to donate it.”

  “There’s no fixed amount, it’s up to the donor. Several of the royal consorts have presented offerings of this kind in our convent. The mother of the Prince of Nanan has made a generous donation, forty-eight catties of oil a day and another catty of lampwicks, so her lamp is almost as large as a water vat. The lady of the Marquis of Jintian comes next with twenty-four catties. Other families give anything from five to three or one—it doesn’t matter. Some poor families who can’t afford so much may just donate a quarter of half a catty, but we keep a lamp burning for them just the same.”

  The Lady Dowager nodded thoughtfully.

  “Of course, more can be given for parents or elders,” continued the priestess. “But if our Old Ancestress gives too much for Baoyu, it won’t be good for the boy and may even spoil his luck. Five catties or seven at the most would be ample.”

  “Make it five catties a day then,” said the Lady Dowager. “You can collect a month’s donation at a time.”

  “May Amida Buddha the Merciful Great Bodhisattva preserve you!” cried the grateful priestess.

  The old lady ordered the servants, “In future when Baoyu goes out give his pages a few strings of cash to distribute as alms to bonzes, Taoists and the poor.”

  The priestess sat with them there a little longer, then made the rounds of different apartments, coming presently to that of the concubine Zhao who, after exchanging greetings, ordered tea. It was clear from a heap of satin remnants on the kang that she had been making slippers.

  “I could do with some silk for uppers myself,” remarked Ma. “Can you spare me a few odd pieces? I don’t mind what colour.”

  “You won’t find anything good in that lot,” said the concubine with a sigh. “Good things don’t come my way. That’s all there is. But if you don’t think them too bad you’re welcome to choose a couple.”

  The priestess picked out several pieces and tucked them in her sleeves.

  “The other day,” the concubine went on, “I sent over five hundred cash. Did you sacrifice to the God of Medicine for me?”

  “Yes, days ago.”

  “Amida Buddha!” She sighed again. “If I’d only more in hand I’d be giving oftener. I just haven’t the means.”

  “Don’t worry. Just hold out till Master Huan grows up and gets an official post. Then you can do all the good works you want.”

  “Well, well, don’t talk about that!” The concubine snorted. “You can see how things are. My son and I are the least and lowest in this household. Of course Baoyu is the precious dragon of the house. Mind you, he’s still just a child with winning ways, so I’ve nothing to say if his elders dote on him. But I refuse to crawl to her.” She held up two fingers.

  “You mean the second young mistress, Madam Lian?”

  The concubine hastily signed to her to be quiet. Having raised the portiere to make sure that no one was there, she came back and whispered:

  “She’s a terror, a real terror! If she doesn’t end by shifting all the property here to her mother’s house, I’m not a human being!”

  The priestess, hearing this, decided to sound her out further.

  “You don’t have to tell me, it’s plain enough,” she said. “It’s kind of you to put up with it and let her have her own way. That’s fine.”

  “What else can we do, for goodness’ sake? Who would have the nerve to say a word against her?”

  The priestess gave a short laugh. After a moment’s pause she said: “I don’t want to talk like a trouble-maker, but I do think if you don’t stick up for yourselves you can’t very well blame others. Even if you dare not tackle her openly you could have done something in secret, instead of letting things drag on like this.”

  Sensing something behind this, the concubine brightened up.

  “In secret? Do explain how,” she cried. “I’ve thought of that, but there’s no one capable of doing it. If you’ll show me some way, I’ll make it well worth your while.”

  “Amida Buddha, don’t ask me that,” protested the priestess, although well aware that they both had the same thing in mind. “What do I know about such matters? No, that would be a sin, a wicked sin.”

  “Come on, you’re always good to those in trouble. Are you going to stand by and watch that woman trample us, mother and child, to death? Or are you afraid I shan’t be able to pay you?”

  Ma smiled.

  “It’s right to say that I’m sorry to see you and your son bullied, but it’s wrong of you to talk about paying me. Why, even if I hoped for some reward, what have you got that could tempt me?”

  The concubine felt that Ma was yielding.

  “How can a smart woman like you be so dense?” she asked. “If you know some good magic to get rid of those two, the family property’s bound to come to my son. When that happens you can have anything you want.”

  The priestess lowered her head for a while.

  “When that happens,” she said at last, “and everything’s in the bag, unless I’ve something in writing you’ll just ignore me.”

  “That’s no problem,” said the concubine. “Though I haven’t got much at the moment, I’ve saved a few taels of silver and I have some clothes and trinkets too. You can take some of them to be going on with. And I can write you a promissory note and, if you like, find a witness too, so that you can be sure I’ll pay you in full later on.”

  “Do you really mean that?”

  “How could I lie to you on such a matter?”

  The concubine then called in a trusted old servant to whom she whispered certain instructions. The woman went out, returning after a while with a promissory note for five hundred taels. Concubine Zhao pressed her fingerprints on this, then opened her chest and took out some loose silver. This she showed to the priestess.

  “Take this first to spend on offerings. How’s that?”

  At the sight of this gleaming pile of silver and the promissory note, the priestess did not scruple to assent with alacrity. First she put a
way the silver and then the note. Next she rummaged in her waistband for a while and fished out twelve paper figures—two of human beings and ten of devils with white hair and blue faces—which she gave to the concubine.

  “Write the eight characters of their horoscopes on these two figures,” she whispered. “Then put them, with five devils each, in their beds. That’s all you have to do. I shall do my magic at home. It’s sure to work. Mind you’re very careful, and don’t look alarmed.”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of a maid from Lady Wang.

  “So here you are,” she said to the concubine. “Her Ladyship’s waiting for you.”

  Then the two women parted company.

  But let us return to Daiyu. Now that Baoyu’s burn kept him indoors, she often dropped in for a chat. Today after lunch she did some reading but soon became bored with the book; then she did a little needlework with Zijuan and Xueyan, but found this even more tedious. So she stood for a While leaning against the doorway in a brown study, before stepping out to look at the bamboo shoots sprouting below the steps. And then, hardly knowing what she did, she stepped out of the courtyard. There was no one in sight in the Garden, nothing to be seen but the brightness of flowers and the shadows of willows, nothing to be heard but birdsong and gurgling streams. And so she made her way to Happy Red Court. Some maids on the terrace there, having just fetched water, were watching the thrushes have their bath. Inside there was laughter and going in she found Li Wan, Xifeng and Baochai assembled there. At sight of her they smiled.

  “Here comes another!”

  “Were invitations sent out that you’re here in force?” asked Daiyu jokingly.

  “I sent you two canisters of tea the other day,” interposed Xifeng. “Where were you?”

  “Oh, it had slipped my mind. Thank you very much.”

  “How did you like it?” Xifeng asked.

  “It’s all right but I didn’t care for it much,” put in Baoyu. “I don’t know how the rest of you found it.”

  “The flavour was quite delicate, but the colour wasn’t too good,” remarked Baochai.

  “That was tribute tea from Siam,” Xifeng told them. “Personally, I didn’t find it as good as the kind we drink every day.”

  “I liked it,” retorted Daiyu. “Different people have different tastes.”

  “In that case you can have mine,” offered Baoyu.

  “If you really like it I’ve plenty more,” said Xifeng.

  “Fine. I’ll send a maid to fetch it,” Daiyu promised.

  “No need,” rejoined Xifeng. “I’ll have it sent round. I was going to send over to you tomorrow anyway to ask a favour.”

  “Listen to her!” cried Daiyu. “Just take a little tea from her and she starts ordering you about.”

  Xifeng chuckled.

  “Asked a favour, you make such a fuss! Over drinking tea too. ‘Drink our family’s tea, a daughter-in-law to be’!”

  As the whole party burst out laughing, Daiyu blushed and turned her head away, saying nothing.

  Li Wan observed with a smile to Baochai, “Our second sister-in-law will have her joke.”

  “Joke?” Daiyu spat. “I call it disgustingly vulgar.”

  “Are you dreaming? What’s wrong with being our daughter-in-law?” teased Xifeng, then pointed at Baoyu. “Look, isn’t he handsome enough for you? Isn’t his status good enough for you? Isn’t his family rich enough for you? Who could think it a bad match in any respect?”

  Daiyu rose at once to go.

  “You’re offended,” cried Baochai. “Come back, Daiyu! It’ll spoil the fun if you go.”

  She ran after Daiyu to stop her. But at the doorway they were intercepted by the concubines Zhao and Zhou, who had come to inquire after Baoyu. Li Wan, Baochai and Baoyu invited them to sit down. Xifeng, however, went on talking with Daiyu and ignored them. Baochai was just about to speak when a maid sent by Lady Wang announced that Wang Ziteng’s wife had called and would like to see the young ladies. Li Wan at once urged Xifeng and the girls to go over, and the two concubines also took a hasty leave of Baoyu.

  “I can’t go out,” said Baoyu. “Whatever happens, don’t let my aunt come over here! Do wait a bit, Cousin Lin. I’ve something to tell you.”

  Xifeng, hearing this, turned to Daiyu with a smile.

  “You’d better stay. You’re wanted.”

  She pushed the girl back into the room and went off with Li Wan. Baoyu, left alone with Daiyu, clasped her sleeve and smiled but could not get a word out. She could not help blushing and tried to break away. “Aiya!” he cried suddenly. “How my head aches!”

  “Serves you right. Buddha be praised.” The next moment he let out a piercing cry. “I’m dying!”

  He leapt several feet into the air, babbling and raving. Daiyu and the maids rushed in panic to tell the Lady Dowager and Lady Wang; and as Wang Ziteng’s wife was with them, the whole party hurried over. By now Baoyu had turned the whole place upside down in search of a sword or stick to kill himself with. His grandmother and mother shook with terror, bursting into loud lamentations for their darling. At once the whole household was thrown into confusion as everyone flocked to the Garden—from Jia She, Lady Xing, Jia Zheng, Jia Lian, Jia Huan, Jia Rong, Jia Yun, Jia Ping, Aunt Xue and Xue Pan down to Zhou Rui’s wife and all the other female servants.

  They were all in a great commotion and wondering what to do when in rushed Xifeng, brandishing a bright steel sword, with which she was trying to cut down all the chickens, dogs and people in her way. This was even more staggering! Zhou Rui’s wife, aided by some of the stronger and braver maids, managed to overpower her and disarm her. They then carried her back to her room where Pinger and Fenger gave way to a storm of weeping.

  Even Jia Zheng was quite distracted, trying to attend to both Baoyu and Xifeng at once. The others, it goes without saying, were still more distraught. But of them all Xue Pan was the most frantic, being afraid that in the crush his mother might be knocked over, Baochai stared at, or Xiangling exposed to indignities—for he knew what libertines Jia Zhen and the rest were. Then, his eye suddenly falling on Daiyu, he was so enraptured by her charms that he almost melted on the spot.

  By now proposals of all kinds were being made. Some suggested calling in exorcists to drive out evil spirits; some, getting a witch to lure them out by dancing; others recommended the Taoist Zhang from the Jade Emperor’s Temple.... Pandemonium reigned as they tried all conceivable remedies together with incantations, divination and prayers. But all to no avail. And at sunset Wang Ziteng’s wife took her leave.

  Next day Wang Ziteng came in person to make inquiries. This was followed by visits from young Marquis Shi’s wife, the brothers and relations of Lady Xing, and the wives of other family connections. Some brought charm water. Others sent round bonzes and Taoists. Still nothing proved of any use.

  Baoyu and Xifeng had fallen into a coma. They lay on their beds burning with fever and babbling deliriously. As the night wore on, because none of the maids or nannies dared go near them, they were carried to Lady Wang’s quarters where some pages in the charge of Jia Yun kept watch in turn. The Lady Dowager, Lady Wang, Lady Xing and Aunt Xue, racked by sobs, refused to stir from their side.

  Afraid that their mother might fall ill of grief, Jia She and Jia Zheng bestirred themselves so frantically day and night that no one, high or low, had any rest or could offer any advice. Jia She kept summoning more bonzes and Taoists, but because these could do no good Jia Zheng lost patience and tried to dissuade him.

  “Their fate rests with Heaven,” he said. “Human beings are powerless. Since their disorder is quite unforeseen and no drugs can cure it, it must be the will of Heaven. We shall just have to leave them to their fate.”

  His counsel fell on deaf ears. Jia She would not relax his exertions. But still there was no improvement.

  By the third day the patients were lying at death’s door and the whole household despaired. Then, as all hope was relinquished, preparations
were started for the funeral. The Lady Dowager, Lady Wang, Jia Lian, Pinger and Xiren wept even more bitterly than the rest, unable to take food or sleep. Only the concubine Zhao and Jia Huan were secretly exulting.

  On the morning of the fourth day Baoyu opened his eyes.

  “I am going to leave you now,” he told his weeping grandmother. “You must make haste and get me ready to go.”

  These words made her feel as if he had wrenched out her heart.

  “Don’t take it too hard, madam,” urged the concubine. “The boy’s as good as gone. Better lay him out and let him make an end of his misery. If you insist on holding him back, he’ll not be able to breathe his last and will only suffer for it in the next world....”

  Before she could finish the old lady spat in her face.

  “May your tongue rot, you bitch!” she swore. “Who asked for your opinion? How do you know he’ll suffer in the next world? Why say he’s as good as gone? What good will it do you if he dies? You’re dreaming! If he does die, I’ll make you pay for it. You’re the ones to blame for this, forcing the child to study and breaking his spirit so that the sight of his father made him as scared as a mouse chased by a cat. It’s you bitches who have hounded him to his death. But don’t gloat too soon—you’ve still me to reckon with.”

  Quite beside himself to hear her curses and sobs, Jia Zheng hastily ordered his concubine away and tried to calm his mother. But just then a servant came in to announce that the two coffins were ready for his inspection. This added fuel to the fire of the old lady’s anger.

  “Who ordered coffins?” she screamed. “Fetch the coffin-makers here! Have them beaten to death!”

  She was storming fit to convulse heaven and earth when the faint sound of a monk’s wooden clapper reached their ears.

  “Put your trust in Buddha who absolves sins,” the monk chanted. “All those afflicted, distressed, imperilled or possessed by evil spirits, we can cure.”