by Cao Xueqin
As she went out Daiyu called after her, “You had better leave. There’s a tiger here who might eat you.”
She went on with her cutting and ignored Baoyu, who suggested with a conciliatory smile: “Why don’t you take a stroll before doing any more?” Daiyu remained silent.
“Who told her to do this?” he asked the maids.
“Whoever it was,” said Daiyu, “It’s none of Master Bao’s business.”
Before he could say any more a servant came in to announce that someone was waiting outside to see him. As he hurried out Daiyu called after him:
“Buddha be praised! I hope I’m dead before you come back.”
Outside he found Beiming, who told him that Feng Ziying had invited him over. Remembering what had been said the previous day, Baoyu sent for his outdoor clothes and waited for them in the library.
Beiming went to the second gate, where he waited until an old woman appeared.
“Master Bao is in the library waiting for his outdoor clothes,” he announced. “Do you mind going in to tell them?”
“You farting fool!” she cried. “Master Bao lives in the Garden now and so do all his attendants. Why bring the message here!”
“Of course.” Beiming laughed. “How idiotic of me!”
He hurried to the inner gate on the east and got one of the lads playing ball by the paved passageway to run in with the message. The youngster came back after a while with a bundle which Beiming carried to the library.
Baoyu, having changed, called for his horse and set off with only four pages: Beiming, Chuyao, Shuangrui and Shuangshou. When they reached Feng Ziying’s gate and were announced, Feng came out to welcome them. Xue Pan had already been there for some time with a number of singing-boys, Jiang Yuhan, an actor who played female roles, and Yuner, a courtesan from Brocade Fragrance Court. The introductions were made and tea was served.
Raising his cup Baoyu smiled at their host.
“Your remark the other day about good fortune and bad has been on my mind ever since,” he said. “So as soon as your summons arrived I hurried over.”
“How trusting you all are.” Feng Ziying chuckled. “That was just an excuse to get you over here, for otherwise I was afraid you might decline. Fancy your taking it so seriously.”
Amid laughter wine was brought in and they took seats in due order. Feng made one of the boy singers pour the wine and asked Yuner to their table to toast the guests. After three cups Xue Pan grew rowdy and seized her hand.
“Sing a nice new song for me,” he begged, “and I’ll drink a whole jarful of wine. How about it?”
Yuner had no choice but to take her pipa and sing:
Two lovers have I,
From both I’m loath to part,
For while I think of one
The other’s in my heart.
Both have so many charms
They’re hard to list;
Last night by the rose trellis
Was our tryst.
One came to make love, one to spy;
Caught in the act was I
And, challenged by the two of them,
Could think of no reply!
This sung, she said, “All right, now drink a jar.”
“That wasn’t worth a whole jar,” protested Xue Pan. “Let’s hear something better.”
“Listen,” put in Baoyu. “If you drink so fast, you’ll soon be drunk and we shan’t have any fun. Suppose I empty a goblet first and we play a new game of forfeits? Anyone who doesn’t do as I say will have to drain ten goblets in succession and leave the table to wait on the others.”
When they all agreed to this, he picked up a goblet and drained it.
“Now,” he said, “you must all make four lines about a girl’s sorrow, her worry, her joy and her delight, explaining the reason for each. Then you must drink a cup of wine, sing a new popular song, and recite either a line from an old poem or couplet, or a saying from the Four Books or the Five Classics connected with some object on the table.”
Before he had finished Xue Pan was on his feet protesting.
“I’m not doing that. Count me out. You just want to make fun of me.”
Yuner stood up to push him back on to his seat
“What are you afraid of?” she teased. “Don’t you drink every day? Aren’t you even up to me? I’m going to join in. If you do all right, well and good; if not, it won’t kill you to drink a few cups. Or would you rather refuse and have to drink ten goblets and wait on the rest of us?”
All clapped their approval and Xue Pan had to subside.
Baoyu began:
“The girl’s sorrow: Youth is passing but she remains single.
“The girl’s worry: Her husband leaves home to make his fortune.
“The girl’s joy: Her good looks in the mirror in the morning.
“The girl’s delight: Swinging in a light spring gown.”
All cried “Good!” except Xue Pan, who shook his head.
“No good,” he growled. “He ought to pay a forfeit.”
“Why?” asked the others.
“Because I didn’t understand a word.”
Yuner gave him a pinch.
“Be quiet and think out your lines. If you don’t, you’ll be the one to pay a forfeit.”
She accompanied Baoyu on the pipa as he sang:
Like drops of blood fall endless tears of longing.
By painted pavilion grow willows and flowers untold;
Sleepless at night when wind and rain lash gauze windows,
She cannot forget her sorrows new and old;
Choking on rice like jade and wine like gold,
She turns from her wan reflection in the glass;
Nothing can smooth away her frown,
It seems that the long night will never pass;
Like the shadow of peaks, her grief is never gone;
Like the green stream it flows for ever on.
The only one not to applaud this song was Xue Pan.
“You were off beat,” he objected.
Baoyu drained his cup and picked up a slice of pear from the table.
“‘Rain buffets the pear blossom and the door is closed,’“ he quoted.
It was now Feng Ziying’s turn. He started off:
“The girl’s sorrow: Her husband falls mortally ill.
“The girl’s worry: Her boudoir in the tower is blown down.
“The girl’s joy: Twin sons at her first confinement.
“The girl’s delight: Catching crickets on the sly in the garden.”
Next, raising his cup, he sang:
You can bill and you can coo,
Be an imp of mischief too,
But a fairy? No, not you,
As my word you doubt.
Ask around and you’ll find out
I love you, yes, I do!
Then, having drunk up, he picked up a piece of chicken.
“‘A cock crows at the moon by the rustic inn,’“ was his quotation.
Yuner’s turn came next and she began:
“The girl’s sorrow: Will she find a husband to support her?”
Xue Pan sighed.
“Why child,” he said, “with Master Xue here, what have you to worry about?”
“Don’t muddle her,” cried the others. “Don’t muddle her.” Yuner went on:
“The girl’s worry: Will the bawd always beat and scold her?”
Xue Pan cut in, “The other day when I saw that bawd of yours, I told her not to beat you.”
“If you interrupt again,” the others warned him, “you’ll have to drink ten cups.”
At once he slapped his own cheek.
“You’ve been warned. Not another word now!”
Yuner continued:
“The girl’s joy: Her lover cannot bear to go home. “The girl’s delight: The pipes hushed, she plays a stringed instrument.”
Then she sang:
On the third of the third moon blooms the cardamom;
Fain
to creep into it an insect is come;
Failing to enter it clings
To the petals and there it swings.
Dear heart, if I don’t let you in,
Your chances are thin!
She drained her cup and picked up a peach saying, “The peach trees are in blossom.’“
It was now Xue Pan’s tarn.
“All right,” he said. “Here goes.
The girl’s sorrow...”
A long pause followed.
“What is she sad about?” Feng Ziying prompted him. “Go on.”
Xue Pan’s eyes bulged, he was so frantic.
“The girl’s sorrow...”
He cleared his throat twice and persevered:
“The girl’s sorrow:
She marries a queer.”
A roar of laughter went up.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded. “Is that wrong? Wouldn’t a girl be sad if the man she married insisted on being a bugger?”
Doubled up with laughter they gasped, “Quite right. Hurry up and go on.”
His eyes bulging again he proceeded, “The girl’s worry...” Once more his voice trailed away.
“Well, what’s the worry?”
“The girl’s worry: A big gorilla springs out of her boudoir.”
Roaring with laughter they cried, “Make him pay the forfeit. The last could just pass but this is impossible.”
However, before they could fill the goblet Baoyu put in, “As long as he rhymes it, that’s good enough.”
“If the man in charge passes it,” blustered Xue Pan, “why should you lot kick up such a fuss?”
The others gave way.
“The next two lines are more difficult,” said Yuner. “Suppose I do them for you?”
“Nonsense. You think I’ve nothing better coming? Listen.
“The girl’s joy: Rising late after her wedding night.”
“How poetic he’s growing!” they exclaimed.
“The girl’s delight: A good fuck.”
All turned away crying, “For shame! Hurry up with your song.”
Then he sang:
A mosquito buzzes, hum-hum.
“What sort of song do you call this?” they demanded. He went on:
Two flies drone, buzz-buzz.
“That’s enough. Shut up!” they cried.
“All right, if you don’t want it. That’s a new song called Hum-hum. If you can’t be bothered to listen and want me to stop, you must let me off the drinking.”
“We’ll let you off. You’re just holding up other people.”
Then Jiang Yuhan took over.
“The girl’s sorrow: Her husband leaves, never to return.
“The girl’s worry: She has no money to buy pomade.
“The girl’s joy: The wick forms two heads like a double flower.
“The girl’s delight: Husband and wife in harmony.”
Next he sang:
So many charms has Heaven given you,
You seem a goddess come down from the blue;
And blooming youth, life’s springtide,
Is just the time to mate the lovebirds true.
The watch-tower drum is beating now,
The Milky Way gleams high above;
Make haste to trim the silver lamp
And draw the bridal curtains on our love.
This sung, he raised his cup and said, “I know very few poems, but luckily I remember a line of a couplet I read yesterday which happens to fit an object on the table.”
Having drained his cup he picked up a sprig of fragrant osmanthus and quoted:
“‘When the fragrance of flowers assails men we know the day is warm.
Everyone passed this, and so the game ended. But Xue Pan leapt to his feet.
“You’ve gone too far!” he shouted. “You must pay a forfeit. How can you mention a treasure that isn’t here?” Jiang Yuhan was puzzled. “What treasure?”
“Don’t try to deny it. Repeat that line again.” The actor complied.
“Isn’t Xiren a treasure?” demanded Xue Pan. “If you don’t believe me, ask him.” He pointed at Baoyu.
In some embarrassment Baoyu stood up.
“How many cups should we fine you, cousin, for this?” he asked.
“All right. I’ll pay the penalty.”
Xue Pan picked up his cup and tossed it off.
Feng Ziying and Jiang Yuhan asked for an explanation; and when Yuner told them who Xiren was, the actor rose to his feet to apologize.
“You’re not to blame,” said the others. “You didn’t know.”
Presently Baoyu left the room to relieve himself, and Jiang Yuhan followed him out to apologize once more in the corridor. Baoyu was much taken by his charming appearance. Clasping his hand tightly he said:
“When you’ve time, do come and see me. By the way, I’ve something to ask you. In your honourable company there’s an actor called Qiguan who’s known all over the country, but I’ve never had a chance to see him.”
Jiang Yuhan smiled.
“That’s my professional name.”
Baoyu stamped one foot in delight.
“What luck!” he cried. “You certainly live up to your reputation. How can I mark this first meeting?”
After a second’s thought he drew the fan from his sleeve, unfastened the jade pendant on it and gave this to the actor.
“Please accept this trifle as a mark of my friendship.”
“What have I done to deserve this?” Qiguan smiled. “All right, I’ve something unusual here which I only put on for the first time this morning. It’s still quite new. A small token of my devotion.”
He raised his gown to undo the scarlet sash round his trousers and handed it to Baoyu.
“This was part of the tribute from the Queen of Qianxiang,” he explained. “Worn in summer, it will perfume your skin and stop you from perspiring. I was given it by the Prince of Beijing yesterday, and I put it on for the first time this morning. I wouldn’t dream of giving it to anybody else. Would you mind letting me have your own in exchange, sir?”
Baoyu took the scarlet sash with the greatest of pleasure, then untied his own pale green one and handed it to the actor. They were both fastening their new sashes when they heard a loud shout.
“Caught in the act!”
It was Xue Pan, who bounded over to seize them.
“What are you up to?” he cried. “Leaving your wine and slipping away from the feast! Come on, let’s see what you’ve got there.”
When they told him “Nothing,” he refused to believe them. Not until Feng Ziying came out did he let them go. Then they went back to their seats and drank until the evening, when the party broke up.
On Baoyu’s return to the Garden he took off his outer garments to drink tea and Xiren, noticing that his fan-pendant was missing, asked what had become of it.
“I must have lost it out riding,” said Baoyu.
But when he went to bed and she saw the blood-red sash round his waist, she know more or less what had happened.
“Now that you’ve got a better sash, will you return mine?” she asked.
Only then did he remember that the green sash belonged to Xiren and he should never have given it away. He was sorry but could hardly explain to her what had happened.
“I’ll get you another,” he promised.
“I know what you’ve been up to again.” She nodded and sighed. “You’ve no right to give my things to those low creatures. You should know better.”
She let it go at that and went to bed too, afraid to provoke him after he had been drinking.
As soon as she woke the next morning, Baoyu confronted her with a smile.
“You wouldn’t know if a thief came in the night,” he said. “Look at your pants.”
Xiren looked down and saw that the sash he had worn the previous day was now round her own waist. Aware that he had changed it during the night, she immediately took it off.
“I’m not interested in
such trash. Take it away.”
He pleaded with her until she consented to wear it. But as soon as he left the room she took it off, threw it into an empty case and put on another. Baoyu did not notice this on his return.
“Did anything happen yesterday?” he asked.
“Madam Lian sent over for Xiaohong. The girl wanted to wait for your return but I didn’t think that necessary, so I took it upon myself to send her away.”
“Quite right. I knew. There was no need for her to wait.”
“And yesterday the Imperial Consort sent the eunuch Xia here with a hundred and twenty taels to be spent on masses, theatricals and sacrifices on the first three days of the month at Ethereal Abbey. She wants Lord Zhen to take all the gentlemen there to burn incense and worship Buddha. She also sent over presents for the Dragon-Boat Festival.”
Xiren told a young maid to fetch his gifts: two fine Palace fans, two strings of red beads scented with musk, two lengths of phoenix-tail silk, and a bamboo mat woven in a lotus pattern.
Baoyu, delighted with these things, asked if the others had received the same gifts.
“The old lady had an extra sandalwood Ruyi sceptre and agate pillow. Lord Zheng, Lady Wang and Madam Xue each had an extra sandalwood sceptre. You got the same as Miss Xue, while Miss Lin and the three other young ladies were given fans and beads, nothing else. Madam Li Wan and Madam Xifeng each had two rolls of gauze, two rolls of silk, two aromatic pouches and two pills from the Palace.”
“How can that be?” asked Baoyu. “Why did Miss Xue get the same as me and not Miss Lin? There must be some mistake.”
“Impossible. Each share was labelled when they were brought yesterday. Yours went to the old lady’s apartments, and when I fetched it she said you must go to the Palace at the fifth watch tomorrow to express your thanks.”
“Yes, of course.”
He called for Zixiao.
“Take these things to Miss Lin,” he instructed her. “Tell her this is what I got yesterday and she can keep anything she fancies.”
The maid did as she was told, coming back to report, “Miss Lin says she received presents too; she wants you to keep yours.”
He had the things put away then and washed his face before setting off to pay his respects to his grandmother. Meeting Daiyu on the way, he hurried up to her with a smile.