A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  “Stay where you are. I shall deal with you presently.”

  He escorted the steward all the way to the gate, and was just starting back when he saw Jia Huan racing past with a few pages. In his fury he ordered his own pages to beat them.

  The sight of his father paralysed Huan with fright. He pulled up short, hanging his head.

  “What are you rushing about for?” demanded Jia Zheng. “Where are all the people supposed to look after you? Have they gone off to amuse themselves while you run wild?”

  As he shouted for the servants who accompanied Huan to school, the boy saw a chance to divert his father’s anger.

  “I wasn’t running to begin with,” he said. “Not until I passed the well where that maid drowned herself. Her head’s swollen up like this, and her body’s all bloated from soaking in the water. It was such a horrible sight that I ran away as fast as ever I could.”

  Jia Zheng was astounded.

  “What maid here had any reason to throw herself into a well?” he wondered. “Such a thing has never happened before in this house. Since the time of our ancestors we have always treated our subordinates well. Of late, though, I’ve neglected household affairs and those in charge must have abused their power, resulting in this calamitous suicide. If word of this gets out, it will disgrace our ancestors’ good name.”

  He called for Jia Lian, Lai Da and Lai Xing.

  Some pages were going to fetch them when Huan stepped forward and caught hold of his father’s gown, then fell on his knees.

  “Don’t be angry, sir!” he begged. “No one knows about this except those in my lady’s apartment. I heard my mother say....”

  He stopped and looked around, and Jia Zheng understood. At a glance from him the servants on both sides withdrew.

  “My mother told me,” Huan went on in a whisper, “that the other day Brother Baoyu grabbed hold of Jinchuan in my lady’s room and tried to rape her. When she wouldn’t let him, he beat her. That’s why she drowned herself in a fit of passion.”

  Before he had finished Jia Zheng was livid with fury.

  “Fetch Baoyu! Quick!” he roared.

  He strode to his study fuming, “If anybody tries to stop me this time, I’ll make over to him my official insignia and property and let him serve Baoyu! How can I escape blame? I’ll shave off these few remaining hairs and retire to a monastery, there to atone for disgracing my ancestors by begetting such a monster.”

  His secretaries and attendants bit their lips or fingers in dismay and hastily withdrew as they heard him raging at Baoyu again. Then Jia Zheng, panting hard, his cheeks wet with tears, sat stiffly erect in his chair.

  “Bring Baoyu in!” he bellowed. “Fetch the heavy rod! Tie him up! Close all the doors. Anyone who sends word to the inner apartments will be killed on the spot.”

  The servants had to obey. Some pages went to fetch Baoyu.

  Baoyu knew he was in for trouble when ordered by his father to wait, but he had no idea of the tale Huan had since told. He paced helplessly up and down the hall, wishing someone would carry the news to the inner apartments,’ but it so happened that nobody was about—even Beiming had disappeared. As he was looking round anxiously, an old nanny finally appeared. He seized on her as if she were a treasure.

  “Go in quick!” he cried. “Tell them the master’s going to beat me. Do hurry! This is urgent!”

  He was too terrified to speak distinctly and the old woman, being hard of hearing, mistook the word “urgent” for “drowning.”

  “She chose drowning herself,” she told him soothingly. “What does it matter to you?”

  Her deafness made Baoyu frantic.

  “Go and get my page to come,” he begged.

  “It’s over now. Over and done with. And the mistress has given them clothes and silver too. Don’t fret.”

  Baoyu was stamping his foot in desperation when his father’s servants arrived and he had perforce to go with them.

  Jia Zheng’s eyes blazed at the sight of him. He did not even ask his son what he meant by playing about outside and exchanging gifts with actors, or by neglecting his studies at home and attempting to rape his mother’s maid.

  “Gag him!” he roared. “Beat him to death!”

  The attendants dared not disobey. They thrust Baoyu down on a bench and gave him a dozen strokes with the heavy rod. His father, thinking these strokes too light, kicked aside the man with the rod and snatched it up himself. With clenched teeth he rained down dozens of vicious blows until his secretaries, foreseeing serious consequences, stepped forward to intervene. But Jia Zheng refused to listen.

  “Ask him if such conduct as his can be pardoned,” he cried. “You’re the ones who’ve been spoiling him. When it comes to this do you still intercede for him? Will you still persist when he commits regicide or parricide?”

  Realizing from this tirade that their master was quite beside himself with rage, they hurried away, feeling constrained to send word to the inner apartments. Lady Wang dared not tell her mother-in-law at once. Having dressed in haste she ran towards the study, regardless of who was about, while men-servants and secretaries fled out of her way in confusion.

  His wife’s arrival roused Jia Zheng to still greater fury and he belaboured his son yet more mercilessly. The two servants holding Baoyu instantly withdrew, but the boy was already incapable of moving. Before his father could beat him any further, Lady Wang seized the rod with both hands.

  “This is the end!” roared Jia Zheng. “You’re determined to be the death of me today.”

  “I know Baoyu deserves a beating,” sobbed Lady Wang. “But you mustn’t wear yourself out, sir. It’s a sweltering day and the old lady isn’t well. Killing Baoyu is a small matter, but should anything happen to the old lady that would be serious.”

  “Spare me this talk.” Jia Zheng gave a scornful laugh. “I’ve already proved an unfilial son by begetting this degenerate. When I discipline him all of you protect him. I’d better strangle him now to avoid further trouble.”

  With that he called for a rope. Lady Wang hastily threw her arms around him.

  “You’re right to chastise your son, sir, but have pity on your wife!” she cried. “I’m getting on for fifty and this wretch is my only son. If you insist on making an example of him, how dare I dissuade you? But if you kill him today, it means you want me to die too. If strangle him you must, take this rope and strangle me first, then strangle him. Mother and son, we won’t dare hold it against you, and at least I shall have some support in the nether world.”

  She threw herself down on Baoyu and gave way to a storm of weeping.

  Jia Zheng heaved a long sigh and sat down, his tears falling like rain. Lady Wang, clasping Baoyu in her arms, saw that his face was white, his breathing weak, and his green linen underclothes were soaked with blood. When she undid them she cried out in distress at the sight of his buttocks and legs beaten black and blue, with every inch bruised or bleeding. “Ah, my poor child!” she wailed.

  As she wept for her “poor child” she remembered her first son and called Jia Zhu’s name.

  “If you were still living,” she sobbed, “I shouldn’t care if a hundred others died.”

  Lady Wang’s departure had roused the inner apartments, and she had been joined by Li Wan and Xifeng as well as Yingchun and Tanchun. Jia Zhu’s name did not affect the others so much, but it reduced his widow to sobs. And the chorus of lamentation made Jia Zheng weep more bitterly himself.

  In the middle of this commotion a maid suddenly announced, “The old lady is coming!”

  And they heard her quavering voice outside the window, “Kill me first and then kill him. That will be a clean sweep.”

  Jia Zheng rose in dismay and distress to greet his mother, who entered on a maid’s arm, gasping for breath. At once he stepped forward to bow respectfully.

  “Why should you vex yourself, mother, and come over on such a hot day? If you have any instructions, just send for your son.”

&n
bsp; The Lady Dowager halted to catch her breath.

  “Were you addressing me?” she demanded sternly. “Yes, I have some instructions. The pity is I’ve borne no filial son to whom I can speak.”

  Appalled by this rebuke, Jia Zheng fell on his knees, tears in his eyes.

  “If your son disciplines his son, it is for the honour of our ancestors,” he pleaded. “How can I bear your reproaches?”

  The Lady Dowager spat in disgust.

  “So you can’t bear one word from me, eh? Then how does Baoyu bear your lethal rod? You talk of disciplining your son for the honour of your ancestors, but how did your father discipline you in the past?”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Don’t grieve, mother,” he begged. “I was wrong to lose my temper. I shall never beat him again.” The old lady snorted.

  “You needn’t try to work off your rage on me. It’s not for me to stop you beating your son. I suppose you’re tired of us all, and we’d better leave now to save trouble all round.”

  She ordered the servants to prepare sedan-chairs and horses, telling them, “Your mistress and Baoyu are going back to Nanjing with me this instant.”

  The attendants had to make a show of complying with her orders. Then the Lady Dowager turned to her daughter-in-law.

  “Don’t cry,” she urged Lady Wang. “Baoyu’s still a child now and you love him; but when he grows up and becomes a high official he may not have any consideration for his mother either. Better not be too fond of him now if you want to avoid heartache later.”

  When Jia Zheng heard this he knocked his head on the floor.

  “What place is there for me on earth, mother,” he wailed, “if you reproach me like this?”

  The Lady Dowager smiled sarcastically.

  “You’re making it clear that there’s no place for me, and yet you start complaining. We are simply going away to save you trouble and leave you free to beat anyone you please.”

  She ordered attendants to pack up at once and make ready for the journey, while Jai Zheng kowtowed and earnestly begged her forgiveness.

  But while storming at her son the old lady was worried about her grandson, and now she hurried over to look at the boy. She was further pained and enraged by the severity of his flogging today. Clasping him to her she wept bitterly. Lady Wang and Xifeng were hard put to it to soothe her. Then some of the maids who had assembled there took Baoyu’s arms, meaning to help him out.

  “Stupid creatures!” scolded Xifeng. “Have you no eyes? He’s in no state to walk. Go and fetch that wicker couch.”

  They hastily did as they were told. Baoyu was laid on the couch and carried to the old lady’s room accompanied by his grandmother and mother, As the Lady Dowager was still incensed Jia Zheng dared not withdraw but followed them, aware from a glance at Baoyu that this time he had flogged him too severely. He turned to his wife, who was now lamenting even more bitterly.

  “My child, my darling!” she wailed. “Why didn’t you die as a baby in Zhu’s place? Then your father wouldn’t be so angry, and all my trouble wouldn’t have been in vain. If anything happens to you now I shall be left all alone, with no one to depend on in my old age!”

  These lamentations interspersed with reproaches against her “worthless son” dismayed Jia Zheng and made him repent that he had beaten Baoyu so mercilessly. But when he tried to mollify his mother she rounded on him with tears in her eyes.

  “Why don’t you leave us? What are you hanging around for? Won’t you be satisfied until you’ve made sure that he dies?”

  Then Jia Zheng was forced to withdraw.

  By now Aunt Xue, Baochai, Xiangling, Xiren and Xiangyun had gathered there too. Xiren was simmering with indignation which she could not express outright. And since Baoyu was surrounded by people, some giving him water to drink, some fanning him, there seemed nothing for her to do. She therefore slipped out and went to the inner gate, where she told some pages to go and fetch Beiming.

  “There was no sign of trouble earlier on. How did this start?” she asked him. “And why didn’t you come to report it earlier?”

  “It just happened that I wasn’t there,” explained Beiming frantically. “I only heard about it half-way through the beating. At once I asked people how the trouble had started. It was over the business of Qiguan and Sister Jinchuan.”

  “How did the master come to hear about it?”

  “In the case of Qiguan, it looks as if Master Xue Pan was behind it. Having no other way to vent his jealous spite, he got somebody from outside to come and tell His Lordship—then the fat was in the fire. As for Jinchuan, it was young Master Huan who blabbed. Or so His Lordship’s men told me.”

  Both stories seemed likely and Xiren was convinced. She went back to find everyone ministering to Baoyu. When there was no more to be done for him, the Lady Dowager ordered them to carry him carefully back to his own room. All lent a hand to convey him to Happy Red Court, where they laid him on his own bed. And after some further bustle the others gradually dispersed, leaving Xiren able at last to wait on him hand and foot.

  The next chapter tells how Baoyu answered her questions.

  Chapter 34

  Moved by Affection, Baoyu Moves His Cousin

  A Wrong Report Makes Baochai Wrong Her Brother

  As soon as the others had left, Xiren sat down by Baoyu’s side and with tears in her eyes asked the reason for this fearful beating.

  “Oh, nothing special. What’s the use of asking?” Baoyu sighed. “The lower part of my body hurts terribly. Do see how serious the damage is.”

  Xiren gently set about removing his underwear, but the least movement made him grit his teeth and groan so much that she stopped. Only after three or four attempts did she succeed in undressing him. Then she clenched her teeth at the sight of his thighs, all black and purple with weals four fingers wide.

  “Heavens! How could he be so cruel?” she exclaimed. “But, you know, this would never have happened if you’d paid the least attention to my advice. Well, it’s lucky no bones are broken. What if you’d been maimed for life?”

  Just then Baochai was announced. As there was no time to clothe Baoyu again, Xiren threw a lined gauze coverlet over him as Baochai walked in, a pill in one hand.

  “Dissolve this drug in wine this evening and apply it as a salve,” she told Xiren. “That will draw the heat and poison from the bruise and help to cure him.”

  Having handed her the pill, she asked, “Is he any better?”

  Baoyu gratefully assured her that he was and asked her to take a seat. Seeing he was now able to open his eyes and talk, Baochai nodded in relief.

  “If you’d listened to our advice, this wouldn’t have happened,” she sighed. “Now you’ve not only upset the old lady and your mother; when the rest of us see you like this, our hearts ache too....”

  She broke off abruptly, regretting her indiscretion, and hung her head with a blush.

  She had spoken with such intimate, tender concern, although attempting to hide her deep emotion, and she looked so indescribably charming in her bashful confusion as she hid her blushing face and fingered her sash, that Baoyu completely forgot his pain in his elation. “I just get given a few strokes,” he thought, “and they show such sweet distress and sympathy. How good and kind they are! How admirable! If I were to meet with some accident and die, they’d surely be quite overcome with grief. But it would be worth dying, even with nothing to show for my life, provided I’d won their hearts. Indeed, it would be silly if I wasn’t a happy and contented ghost.”

  His thoughts were interrupted by a question Baochai put to Xiren: “What’s the reason for this sudden row and beating?”

  Xiren passed on what Beiming had said, and this was Baoyu’s first inkling of Jia Huan’s tale-telling. But when Xue Pan’s name came up he was afraid Baochai would be upset.

  “Cousin Xue would never do such a thing!” he interposed quickly. “Stop making such wild guesses.”

  Baochai
understood why he had silenced Xiren. “How tactful and cautious you are in spite of your pain after such a dreadful beating,” she thought. “If you can be so considerate of our feelings, why not pay equal attention to important matters outside? For then your father would be pleased, and you wouldn’t get into hot water like this. You cut Xiren short for fear of hurting me, but do you suppose I don’t know my brother’s wild, lawless ways? If such a rumpus was raised that time because of Qin Zhong, much worse things are possible now.”

  After these reflections she turned to Xiren with a smile. “Why pin the blame on this person or that?” she said. “I think the master was angry because Cousin Bao doesn’t behave well and keeps bad company. Even if my brother did let fall some careless remark about Cousin Bao, he can’t have meant to make trouble. For after all, in the first place, it was the truth; in the second, he’s the type who can’t be bothered to gossip. You’re used to Cousin Bao who’s so considerate. You haven’t met my brother, who fears neither Heaven nor Earth and blurts out whatever happens to be in his mind.”

  Baoyu’s interruption when she spoke of Xue Pan had made Xiren realize that her tactlessness must have embarrassed Baochai, whose last remarks abashed her even more. As for Baoyu, he could see that while saying what was right and proper Baochai was also trying to put him at his ease. He felt even more touched. But before he could speak again she rose to leave.

  “I’ll come back tomorrow to see how you are,” she assured him. “Have a good rest. I’ve given Xiren something to make you a salve tonight, and that should help.”

  With that she left, and Xiren escorted her out of the courtyard.

  “Thank you, miss, for taking so much trouble,” she said. “When Master Bao’s better he’ll come himself to thank you.”

  Baochai turned and smiled.

  “There’s nothing to thank me for. Just persuade him to rest properly and not let his imagination run away with him. We don’t want the old lady and the mistress and everyone disturbed. For if word of it reached the master’s ears, even if he did nothing for the time being, there’d be trouble later on.”