A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  “That’s what I feel. We could hardly avoid plagiarism.” Baochai thought this over.

  “I know,” she said presently. “We’ll lay stress not on the chrysanthemum but on the people looking at it, and set themes about their reactions to the flower. In this way we shall have tributes to the chrysanthemum as well as descriptions of feeling. This hasn’t been done before and can’t be too stereotyped. In fact, this combination will have freshness and distinction.”

  “A good idea,” agreed Xiangyun. “But how will you introduce the feeling? Give me an example.”

  After a moment’s thought Baochai replied, “A Dream of Chrysanthemums for instance.”

  “Of course. I’ve got one too. How about The Chrysanthemum’s Shadow!”

  “Can do, although of course it’s been used before. If we have a fair number of themes we can include it. I’ve thought of another.”

  “Go on!”

  “Questioning the Chrysanthemum.”

  “Splendid!” Xiangyun clapped one hand on the table. “I know. How d’you like Seeking Out the Chrysanthemum!”

  “Good. We may as well think of ten themes and write them out.”

  They ground ink and dipped in the brush. Xiangyun wrote the themes out at Baochai’s dictation, and in no time at all they had ten. After reading them through Xiangyun said:

  “Ten doesn’t make a set. Let’s have twelve while we’re about it, like those albums of calligraphy and painting.”

  So Baochai thought up two more, making twelve in all.

  “In this case let’s arrange them in the right order,” she said.

  “Better still!” cried Xiangyun. “We shall have a chrysanthemum album.”

  “We’ll start with Thinking of the Chrysanthemum. After thinking of it we seek it out; so number two will be Visiting the Chrysanthemum. After finding it we plant it; so the third will be Planting the Chrysanthemum. After it has been planted and flowers, we face it and enjoy it; so four is Facing the Chrysanthemum. To enjoy it further we pick it to put in a vase; so five is Displaying the Chrysanthemum. But to bring out its splendour once it is displayed we must write poems about it; so six is Writing About the Chrysanthemum. And as a verse must be accompanied by a painting, number seven is Painting the Chrysanthemum. Even though we’ve been to so much trouble over it, we shan’t know all its rare qualities unless we ask questions; so eight is Questioning the Chrysanthemum. If the flower seems able to understand, we are so thrilled that we want to get closer to it; hence nine is Wearing the Chrysanthemum.

  “This exhausts all that men can do but, as there still remain certain aspects of the flower which can be described, ten and eleven are The Chrysanthemum’s Shadow and A Dream of Chrysanthemum. And we end with The Withered Chrysanthemum to sum up all the emotions expressed before. In this way we shall cover all the fine sights and occupations of autumn.”

  Xiangyun copied out the themes again in this order and read them through once more.

  “What rhymes shall we decide on?” she asked next.

  “In general I’m against a hard-and-fast rhyme pattern,” replied Baochai. “Why should fine lines be restricted by fixed rhymes? Let’s not follow that petty rule but simply set themes. We want everyone to write some fine lines for pleasure, not to make it hard for them.”

  “I quite agree. In this way we should write better. But there are only five of us. Will each of us have to write on all twelve of these subjects?”

  “No, that would be asking too much. We’ll just copy out these themes and stipulate that the seven-character lushi form is to be used. We’ll put the notice on the wall tomorrow, and people can choose whichever theme they like. If anyone’s able to write on all twelve, well and good; but it’s all right, too, not to do any. The winner will be the one who writes best and fastest. Once all twelve are done, those who haven’t finished must stop and submit to the penalty.”

  Xiangyun agreed to this and, their plans made, the two girls put out the light and went to bed. If you want to know what followed, read the next chapter.

  Chapter 38

  The Queen of Bamboos Wins First Place with Her Poems on Chrysanthemums

  The Lady of the Alpinia Writes a Satire upon Crabs

  Having laid their plans Baochai and Xiangyun slept, and the next morning the latter invited the Lady Dowager and others over to enjoy the fragrant osmanthus.

  “What a delightful, refined idea,” said the old lady. “We should take advantage of such an invitation.”

  At noon she took Lady Wang and Xifeng to invite Aunt Xue to accompany them to the Garden, and asked:

  “Which would be the best spot?”

  “It’s up to you to choose, madam,” said Lady Wang.

  “Preparations have been made in Lotus Fragrance Anchorage,” put in Xifeng. “The two fragrant osmanthus trees at the foot of the slope there are in full bloom, the water flowing past is green and clear, and you get a fine view from the pavilion in midstream. It’s refreshing to look at water.”

  The Lady Dowager approved and led the way to Lotus Fragrance Anchorage.

  This pavilion, built in the middle of the lake, had windows on all four sides, twisting corridors on left and right leading to both shores and, behind, a winding bamboo bridge connecting it with the bank. As they stepped on to this, Xifeng moved forward quickly to take the old lady’s arm.

  “Just step out boldly, Old Ancestress,” she cried. “This bamboo bridge always creaks—it doesn’t matter.”

  Upon reaching the pavilion they saw on the balcony two bamboo tables, one laid with cups, chopsticks and wine pots, the other with a tea-service. Beside them a few maids were fanning two stoves: one to brew tea, the other to heat wine.

  “Tea—splendid! This is just the place for it,” remarked the Lady Dowager. “Everything here is so clean.” Xiangyun said with a smile, “Cousin Baochai helped prepare this.”

  “Yes, I always say she’s most provident, that child, and thinks of everything.”

  As the old lady made this observation, she noticed two inscriptions inlaid in mother-of-pearl on the black lacquer tablets hanging on the pillars. She asked someone to read them to her. Xiangyun complied:

  Magnolia oars shatter the reflections of lotus;

  Caltrops and lotus-root scent the bamboo bridge.

  The Lady Dowager glanced up again at the inscription on the board above her head, then turned to Aunt Xue.

  “When I was young we had a pavilion like this too at home,” she said. “It was called Pillowed Iridescence or something of the sort. I was no bigger than these girls at that time and I used to play with my sisters there every day. Once I slipped and fell into the water and nearly drowned! They managed to pull me out, but a wooden bolt had gashed my head. That’s how I got this dent the size of a finger-tip on my temple here. They were all afraid I was done for after that ducking and chill, but I recovered.”

  Before anyone else could comment Xifeng quipped, “If you hadn’t, who’d be enjoying all this good fortune today? Obviously our Old Ancestress was destined from birth to good luck and a long life: that’s why the gods dented her head—to hold her good luck! The God of Longevity originally had a dent in his head too, but it was so stuffed with good fortune it swelled up instead into a bump.”

  Before she had finished, the Lady Dowager and all the others were quite limp from laughing.

  “This monkey’s so dreadfully spoilt, she even makes fun of me,” declared the old lady. “I ought to tear out that glib tongue of yours.”

  “We’ll presently be eating crabs,” said Xifeng. “I was afraid you might have indigestion if I didn’t first make you laugh. If you’re in good spirits it doesn’t matter eating a little more.”

  “I’ll make you stay with me day and night to keep me laughing,” threatened the Lady Dowager. “I won’t let you go home.”

  “It’s because you’re so fond of her, madam, that she’s so spoilt,” interposed Lady Wang. “And by talking like that you’ll make her even worse.”


  “I like her as she is.” The old lady chuckled. “Besides, she never really oversteps the mark. When we’ve no visitors we should joke and chat, so long as the young people don’t break the main rules of propriety. Why should we expect them to behave like angels?”

  Now that everyone was in the pavilion tea was served, after which Xifeng set the tables. The one at the head was for the Lady Dowager, Aunt Xue, Baochai, Daiyu and Baoyu; that on the east for Xiangyun, Lady Wang, Yingchun, Tanchun and Xichun; and the small one near the door on the west for Li Wan and Xifeng. The seats at this were unoccupied, however, as they were waiting on the tables of the Lady Dowager and Lady Wang.

  “Don’t bring too many crabs,” Xifeng told the maids. “Fetch us ten and keep the rest in the steamer, to be brought in as we need them.”

  Having called for water to wash her hands, she stood by the old lady and shelled a crab, offering the meat to Aunt Xue. But the latter declined it.

  “Please don’t trouble,” she said. “I prefer to do it myself.”

  So Xifeng gave this crab to the Lady Dowager, the second to Baoyu. She then sent for piping hot wine and ordered some young maids to fetch powdered green beans scented with chrysanthemum leaves and fragrant osmanthus, for use when they washed their hands.

  Xiangyun, after eating one crab with her guests, left her seat to help the others and also went outside to give instructions that two dishes of crabs should be sent to the concubines Zhao and Zhou.

  “You’re not used to entertaining,” said Xifeng coming over to her. “Go back and eat while I look after your guests for you. I’ll eat after they’ve left.”

  But Xiangyun, declining this offer, had two more tables placed on the balcony for Yuanyang, Hupo, Caixia, Caiyun and Pinger.

  “Since you’re seeing to things here, madam,” said Yuanyang to Xifeng, “we may as well go and eat.”

  “Yes, go along, all of you. Leave everything to me.”

  At that Xiangyun went back to her seat and, after Xifeng and Li Wan had eaten a few hurried mouthfuls as a matter of form, Xifeng left the table again to do the honours. Presently she stepped out on to the balcony where the maids were enjoying the crabs. At her approach they rose and Yuanyang asked:

  “Why have you come out here, madam? Do let us enjoy our crabs in peace!”

  “This little bitch has become quite impossible!” cried Xifeng laughing. “Instead of thanking me for doing your job, you’re complaining. Hurry up and pour me some wine.”

  Smiling, Yuanyang made haste to fill a cup and hold it to her lips. Xifeng tossed it off. Then Hupo and Caixia poured two more cups and held them to her lips, and she drank them too. By this time Pinger had ready a shellful of yellow crab meat.

  “Add plenty of ginger and vinegar,” said Xifeng. And when this was eaten she told them, “Sit down and go on with your meal. I’m leaving you.”

  “How shameless!” Yuanyang tittered. “Cadging from us.”

  “You’d better behave,” warned Xifeng. “You know your Master Lian is in love with you and means to ask the old lady to let him have you as his concubine.”

  “Bah!” Yuanyang spat out. “What a way for a lady to talk! I’m going to smear your face with my dirty hands to get even.”

  She stood up as if to carry out her threat.

  “Let me off this time, good sister!” pleaded Xifeng.

  “If Yuanyang becomes a concubine, Pinger will make things hot for her.” Hupo giggled. “Just look at her. She’s drunk a whole saucer of vinegar with less than two crabs—that’s soured her.”

  Pinger had just scooped out the yellow flesh of a crab, and at this gibe she aimed it at Hupo’s face, laughing.

  “You foul-mouthed bitch!” she swore.

  Hupo giggled and dodged so that Pinger, stumbling forward, smeared Xifeng’s cheek with the crab flesh. Xifeng, still joking with Yuanyang, cried out with a start which made everyone burst out laughing. Unable to help joining in herself, she cursed:

  “Damn slut! Have you no eyes that you smear anyone?”

  Pinger hastily wiped Xifeng’s face and went to fetch water.

  “Gracious Buddha!” cried Yuanyang. “This is just retribution.”

  “What’s happened?” called the Lady Dowager. “What are you laughing at? Let us into the joke.”

  Yuanyang and the others, still shaking with mirth, called back loudly, “Madam Lian came here to steal our crabs. Then Pinger flared up and smeared her face with yellow crab meat. Now mistress and maid are scrapping.”

  Amid general laughter the Lady Dowager said, “Do take pity on the poor thing and give her some of the smaller legs and innards.”

  Yuanyang cheerfully assented and cried loudly, “The table is covered with legs. Just help yourself, madam.”

  Then Xifeng, having washed her face, went back to wait on the Lady Dowager.

  Daiyu, the only one afraid to eat much, had contented herself with a little meat from the pincers, after which she left the table.

  As soon as the old lady had had enough they all left their places to wash their hands, then strolled off to look at the flowers, play with the water or watch the fish.

  “It’s windy here, and you’ve just been eating crab, madam,” said Lady Wang presently to her mother-in-law. “You’d better go back and rest. If you’ve enjoyed this you can come again tomorrow.”

  “Very well,” replied the Lady Dowager. “I didn’t want to spoil your fun by leaving; but since you suggest it, let’s go.” She turned to Xiangyun. “Don’t let your cousins Baoyu and Daiyu eat too much.” When Xiangyun agreed, she advised her and Baochai, “You two had better not eat too much either. Crabs are delicious but not very wholesome. If you overeat you’ll have a stomach-ache.”

  Having assented and seen her out of the Garden, they returned and ordered the tables to be cleared and reset.

  “There’s no need for that,” Baoyu objected. “It’s time to write poems now. Just put the wine and dishes on the big round table in the middle there. You needn’t assign seats either. We can help ourselves and sit wherever we please. Wouldn’t that be more comfortable?”

  “An excellent idea,” Baochai approved.

  “That’s all very well,” said Xiangyun, “but we mustn’t forget the others.”

  She had another table set and more hot crabs brought for Xiren, Zijuan, Siqi, Shishu, Ruhua, Yinger and Cuimo. Two rugs were spread at the foot of the slope under the fragrant osmanthus trees for the serving-women and the younger maids, who were urged to eat and drink as much as they liked and not to come unless called.

  Then Xiangyun pinned the themes on one wall. And the others crowding round to look exclaimed:

  “How original! But this isn’t going to be easy.” She explained why they had chosen no definite rhymes. “Quite right too,” approved Baoyu. “I don’t like hard-and-fast rhyme schemes either.”

  As Daiyu did not want much wine or crab, she sent her maid for an embroidered cushion and sat by the balustrade angling for fish. Baochai played for a while with a spray of fragrant osmanthus, then leaned out of the window to toss some petals into the water so that the fish would come and nibble at them. Xiangyun roused herself from a brown study to urge Xiren’s party and the maids at the foot of the slope to eat their fill. Tanchun, Li Wan and Xichun stood in the shade of the willows watching the waterfowl, while Yingchun, standing apart in the shade of the blossom, threaded jasmine flowers with a needle.

  Baoyu first watched Daiyu fishing, then went over to make a few remarks to Baochai, after which he joined Xiren and the rest and sipped some wine with them while Xiren prepared a shellful of meat for him.

  At this point Daiyu, laying down her rod, walked over to the table. She picked up a tarnished silver pot with a plum-blossom design and chose a tiny red soapstone cup shaped like a palm leaf. To the maid who hurried forward to pour her a drink she said:

  “Go on with your meal. Let me pour my own wine, that’s more fun.” By now she had poured half a cup and could see i
t was yellow wine. “After eating a bit of crab I’ve slight indigestion,” she said. “What I really want is a mouthful of hot spirits.”

  “There’s some here,” said Baoyu promptly. He told the maids to heat a pot of spirits in which acacia flowers had been steeped. After just one sip Daiyu put the cup down. Baochai, coming over just then, picked up another cup and drank a mouthful before wetting her brush and ticking off the first title on the wall Thinking of the Chrysanthemum, beside which she wrote “Alpinia.”

  “Dear cousin,” put in Baoyu hastily. “I’ve got four lines already for the second. Do leave that one for me.”

  “I’ve only just taken one, yet what a fluster you’re in!” replied Baochai mockingly.

  Daiyu silently took the brush from her and ticked off the eighth subject, Questioning the Chrysanthemum, as well as the eleventh, A Dream of Chrysanthemums, writing “Bamboo” beside them. Baoyu, the next to take the brush, ticked off the second title Visiting the Chrysanthemum and wrote “Red” by it.

  Tanchun, strolling over now to look, remarked, “If no one’s doing Wearing the Chrysanthemum, I’ll try that.” She wagged a finger teasingly at Baoyu. “It’s just been announced that no allusions to the inner chambers are allowed, so be careful!”

  Meanwhile Xiangyun had come over to tick off numbers four and five, Facing the Chrysanthemum and Displaying the Chrysanthemum, next to which she wrote her name.

  “You should have a pen-name too,” Tanchun objected. “Though we’ve still a few pavilions and lodges at home, I’m not living there now,” replied Xiangyun. “And there’s no point in using a borrowed name.”

  Baochai countered, “Just now the old lady said your house has a water pavilion called Pillowed Iridescence. That’s yours all right. Even though it’s in other hands now, you’re after all its old mistress.”

  “That’s right,” approved the rest.

  Before Xiangyun could make any move, Baoyu blotted out her name and wrote up “iridescence” in its place.

  Then, in less time than it takes for a meal, the twelve poems were finished, written out and handed to Yingchun, who copied them out on a fresh sheet of coloured Xue Tao stationery,’ adding the pen-name of the author to each. Li Wan and the others read them.