A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  “This stench is making me sick!” declared Xianglian.

  With that he left Xue Pan, untethered his horse and, mounting it, rode away. When Xue Pan saw with relief that he had gone, he regretted his blunder in mistaking his man. He tried to struggle to his feet, but the pain was too much for him.

  When the absence of the two of them from the feast was suddenly noticed by Jia Zhen and others, they searched high and low for them but could not find them. It was rumoured, though, that they seemed to have gone out of the North Gate. Xue Pan’s pages were too afraid of him to follow him against his orders; Jia Zhen, however, was so worried that he sent Jia Rong with some men to track them down. The search party rode out of the North Gate for more than two li along the road from the bridge, until they saw Xue Pan’s horse tethered to a tree beside the marsh.

  “Thank goodness!” they exclaimed. “If the horse is here, the rider can’t be far off.”

  Going up to the horse, they heard groaning in the reeds and hurrying forward discovered Xue Pan there, his clothes tattered and torn, his face swollen and bruised, covered from head to foot with mud like a sow.

  Jia Rong had a shrewd idea of what had happened. Quickly dismounting, he ordered some men to help Xue Pan to his feet.

  “So today Uncle Xue’s pursuit of love has brought him to this swamp,” he joked. “I suppose the Dragon King was so impressed by your romantic spirit that he wanted you to be his son-in-law; but then you knocked into the dragon’s horn!”

  Xue Pan wished he could sink through the ground for shame. As he could not ride, Jia Rong sent to the North Gate to hire a small chair for him, after which they all returned to the city together. Jia Rong threatened to carry him back to Lai Da’s feast, and Xue Pan had to plead hard not to have this business made public before he was allowed to go back home.

  Then Jia Rong returned to Lai Da’s house to tell Jia Zhen what had happened. Hearing of the beating Xianglian had given Xue Pan, Jia Zhen observed with a laugh:

  “A lesson like this should be good for him.”

  After the party had broken up that evening he went to inquire after Xue Pan’s health, but the latter sent word from his bedroom that he was too unwell to receive anyone.

  To return to the Lady Dowager and her party, after they all went back to their own quarters Aunt Xue and Baochai noticed that Xiangling’s eyes were swollen from weeping. Having learned the reason they hurried in to see Xue Pan. They found that, although badly bruised on both face and body, he had broken on bones. Aunt Xue, torn between maternal affection and anger, abused her son and Liu Xianglian by turns. She wanted to complain to Lady Wang and have Xianglian arrested.

  “This isn’t all that serious,” Baochai demurred. “They were simply drinking together, and drunken brawls are common enough. A man often gets a thrashing too when he’s drunk. Besides, everyone knows how wild and headstrong Pan is. I understand why your heart’s bleeding for him, mother, and it won’t be hard to get even. In three days’ or five days’ time, when my brother’s well enough to go out again, Cousin Zhen, Cousin Lian and the others over there won’t let the matter drop. They’ll invite that fellow to a feast to make a public apology to Pan. If you make such an issue of it and spread the news, everyone will think you spoil your son and encourage him to make trouble and that once he’s beaten you raise a big rumpus, relying on your powerful relatives to bully humble folk.”

  “You’re right as usual, child,” replied her mother. “I was muddled for the moment by anger.”

  “In fact, this is all to the good,” continued Baochai with a smile. “He’s not afraid of you, mother, and won’t listen to other people’s advice either. He’s growing more and more headstrong. Coming a few croppers should cure him.”

  Xue Pan was still raging at Liu Xianglian from his kang, ordering his servants to go and pull down Liu’s house, beat him to death, or take the case to court. Aunt Xue stopped them however, saying:

  “Liu Xianglian ran riot after a bout of drinking, but now that he’s sobered up he’s filled with remorse. He’s run away for fear of the consequences.”

  Xue Pan, hearing this, gradually got over his rage. To know the outcome, read on.

  Chapter 48

  A Rebuffed Reprobate Decides on a Journey

  An Aspiring Maid Racks Her Brains to Write Poetry

  After he was told that Liu Xianglian had fled, little by little Xue Pan’s anger abated. In a few days he was over his pain and simply pretending to be ill, being ashamed to see relatives or friends till his bruises had disappeared.

  In no time the tenth month arrived, and as some of their shop managers were to got home to settle their annual accounts, the Xue family had to prepare a farewell feast for them.

  One of those leaving was Zhang Dehui, a man of over sixty who had managed the Xues’ pawnshop since he was young and was now worth two or three thousand taels. Not wanting to return before spring he said:

  “This year sacrificial paper and aromatics are in short supply, which means that next year the price is bound to rise. I propose to send my eldest son here to see to the shop after New Year and on my way back purchase sacrificial paper and scented fans to sell before the Dragon-Boat Festival. After deducting taxes and expenses, we should still net a profit of several hundred percent.”

  When Xue Pan heard this he reflected, “Since my beating I’ve been ashamed to show my face, wishing I could disappear for a year or so; but I have nowhere to hide. I can’t go on shamming illness indefinitely. Besides, all these years I’ve never taken to books or soldiering, and although I’m in business I’ve never handled a balance or abacus and know nothing either about local customs and different parts of the country. I may as well take some capital and travel around with Zhang Dehui for a year. It doesn’t matter whether I make money or not; I can at any rate hide my face for a while and enjoy some sight-seeing at the same time.”

  Having made up his mind to this, he took Zhang aside after the feast, explained his plan, and asked him to wait a couple of days so that they could travel together.

  That evening he told his mother. But though pleased in a sense, she was also afraid he might get into trouble outside—the loss of capital was immaterial. So she withheld her consent.

  “I don’t worry too much so long as you’re with me,” She said. “And it’s not as if we needed you to handle business or were short of money. If you’ll stay quietly at home that’s worth more to me than a few hundred taels.”

  But Xue Pan, once his mind was made up, was stubborn.

  “You keep complaining every day of my lack of worldly wisdom, my ignorance and failure to learn,” he protested. “Yet now that I’ve resolved to stop fooling around, come to grips with life and establish myself by learning to run the business, you won’t let me. What do you expect me to do? I’m not a girl to stay cooped up at home all the time. You’ll have to let me out some day. Besides, Zhang Dehui is well on in years, a moral character and an old family friend. What could go wrong if I’m with him? He’ll naturally point it out if I make the least blunder. And he knows the market so well that his advice will be most useful to me. Yet you won’t let me go! All right, I’ll slip away some day without telling you, and come back next year with my fortune made. Just wait and see if I don’t!”

  He went off to bed in a huff. Then Aunt Xue discussed the matter with her daughter.

  “If my brother’s really serious about working properly, that’s good,” said Baochai. “But if he’s just saying this to talk you round, once away from home he may slip back into his bad old ways and it will be even more difficult to restrain him. Still, it’s no use worrying too much. If he truly reforms, so much the better for him; if he doesn’t, there’s nothing you can do about it, mother. It depends half on what one can do for him half on his own fate. He’s no longer a boy, and if you keep him at home this year for fear he’s too inexperienced to travel or do business, it’ll be just the same next year. As his arguments sound reasonable, you may as well send him of
f to have a try —at worst it only means wasting eight hundred or a thousand taels. After all, he’ll have assistants who can’t very well cheat him. Besides, once he’s gone there’ll be no one to egg him on or to back him up, and he won’t be able to throw his weight about. If he has food, he can eat; if not, he’ll just have to go hungry. And for all we know, seeing that he’s on his own, he may cause less trouble than at home.” Aunt Xue thought this over for a while.

  “You’re quite right,” she said at last. “It’s worth a little money if he’ll learn to behave himself better.”

  Having agreed on this they retired for the night.

  The next day Aunt Xue invited Zhang Dehui to a meal in the study at which Xue Pan presided, and standing in the back corridor she urged Zhang very earnestly through the window to take good care of her son. Zhang promised to do so.

  After the meal as he took his leave he said, “The fourteenth is an auspicious day to start a journey. Please get your luggage ready, sir, and hire mules. On the fourteenth we can make an early start.”

  Xue Pan was overjoyed and passed on this message to his mother, who promptly set to work with Baochai, Xiangling and two old nurses to prepare his things. An old steward, the husband of Xue Pan’s wet-nurse, was to accompany him with two other experienced old bondsmen as well as two of the pages who usually attended him, making a party of six. Three carts were hired for the luggage, and four sturdy mules. Xue Pan himself would ride a large black mule from the family stable, in addition to which a horse was provided for him too. When all these preparations had been made, his mother and sister went on to give him good advice and warnings which we can pass over here.

  On the thirteenth, Xue Pan want to take his leave first of his maternal uncle, then of other members of the Jia family; but we need not dwell on all the farewell banquets offered by Jia Zhen and the rest.

  On the fourteenth, first thing in the morning, his mother and sister saw him out of the ceremonial gate and with tears in their eyes watched until he was out of sight before turning back again.

  Aunt Xue had brought to the capital only four or five families of servants apart from a few old nurses and young maids. Now that five of the men had gone with her son, only one man-servant was left. That same day, accordingly, she had all the ornaments, curtains, and other furnishings of the study stored away and ordered the wives of two men who had accompanied Xue Pan to move into the inner quarters. She also told Xiangling to clear up and lock her room and to share her own bedroom.

  “You already have quite a few people to keep you company, mother,” observed Baochai. “Why not let Sister Xiangling move in with me? We’ve plenty of space in the Garden, and now that the nights are getting longer and I sew every evening, wouldn’t it be better if I had one more companion?”

  “Of course.” Her mother smiled. “That had slipped my mind or I should have suggested it. Only the other day I was telling your brother that Wenxing’s too young to do much, and Yinger can’t wait on you properly all on her own. We must buy you another maid.”

  “A girl bought outside is a dark horse,” objected Baochai. “If she turns out badly the money will be wasted, but that’s a small matter compared with the trouble she may cause. We’d better take our time making inquiries, and not buy a girl until we know her record.”

  She urged Xiangling to pack up her bedding and toilet things, and ordered an old nurse and Zhener to take them to Alpinia Park. Then she went back to the Garden with Xiangling.

  “I thought of asking our lady’s permission to stay with you after your brother left,” Xiangling confided. “I was afraid, though she’d think I just wanted to play about. I’m so glad you suggested it.”

  “I know how long you’ve admired this Garden without ever having time really to enjoy it,” Baochai answered. “There’s no fun in hurried visits every day. So if you take this chance to stay here for a year, I’ll be glad of your company and you’ll get your wish too.”

  “Can you take this opportunity, dear miss, to teach me to write poetry?”

  “The more you get, the more you want!” chuckled Baochai. “As this is your first day here, I advise you to start by paying your respects to all the ladies in the different apartments outside the Garden’s east gate, beginning with the old lady. You needn’t tell them specially that you’ve moved into the Garden; but if anyone asks, just say I’ve brought you to keep me company. Then after you come back you ought to call on all the young ladies here.”

  Xiangling agreed and was about to set out when Pinger hurried in. Xiangling greeted her, and Pinger returned her greeting with a strained smile.

  “I’ve brought her here to keep me company,” Baochai told Pinger. “I was just going to send someone to report it to your mistress.”

  “What a way to talk, miss!” cried Pinger. “How do you expect me to answer?”

  “No, this is only right. ‘Hostels have their hosts, abbeys their abbots.’ It’s a small matter, but still I should notify her so that the night-watch will know whom to expect here before locking the gates. Will you report this for me when you go back? That’ll save me sending someone.”

  Pinger agreed readily, then asked Xiangling, “Why don’t you call on your neighbours now that you’re here?”

  “Just what I was saying to her,” remarked Baochai.

  “But you’d better leave us out,” advised Pinger. “Master Lian is at home, ill in bed.”

  Xiangling did as she was told, going first to call on the Lady Dowager. As soon as she had left, Pinger took Baochai’s arm.

  “Have you heard the latest news in our family, miss?” she whispered.

  “Not a word,” rejoined Baochai. “These last few days we’ve been so busy getting my brother off, I’ve heard nothing of what’s been happening in your apartments. I haven’t even seen my cousins for a couple of days.”

  “Then you haven’t heard of the beating Lord She gave Master Lian? It’s quite laid him up.”

  “I heard something vaguely this morning but didn’t believe it. If you hadn’t come, I’d have gone to call on your mistress. What did he beat him for?”

  “When he came back and reported this, Lord She determined to buy them at any price. But the Stone Idiot swore, ‘I’ll die of cold and hunger sooner than sell, even if you offer me a thousand taels apiece. ‘

  “There was nothing Lord She could do, except storm at Master Lian every day. Even when the fellow was promised five hundred taels in advance, he still refused. ‘I’d sooner die than part with my fans,’ he insisted. So, really, miss, what could be done?

  “Then that black-hearted scoundrel Jia Yucun heard about it and hatched a scheme. He had the idiot taken to his yamen on a charge of owing the government some money, and ordered the default to be made good by the sale of his property. So the fans were seized, paid for at the official price and brought to our house. As for that Stone Idiot, who knows whether he’s alive or dead?

  “Lord She, once he had the fans, asked Master Lian, ‘How did he succeed where you failed?’ Master Lian simply answered, ‘It’s nothing to boast of, if somebody is willing to ruin a family for such a trifling reason.’ Then his father flew into a passion, and accused him of trying to put him in the wrong. That was the main reason.

  “There were a few other things too, so insignificant that I can’t remember them exactly. Together, anyway, they got our young master a beating. Instead Of being held down and flogged with a cane or stick, he was beaten where he stood—with just what, nobody knows—so that his face was cut open in two places. We heard that Aunt Xue had a cure for cuts of that kind. Could you send for a pill now, miss, for me to take to him?”

  Baochai promptly despatched Yinger to fetch a pill, and handed this to Pinger, “I won’t call just now, under the circumstances,” she said. “Please give my regards to your mistress.”

  Pinger assented and left.

  Let us return to Xiangling, who had paid her courtesy calls. After dinner, when Baochai had gone to see the Lady Dowager
, she went to Bamboo Lodge. And Daiyu, now in better health, was delighted to learn that she had moved into the Garden.

  “I shall have more free time here,” remarked Xiangling. “If only you’d teach me to write poems, how lucky I’d count myself!”

  “If you want to write poetry you must acknowledge me as your tutor,” replied Daiyu teasingly. “I’m no poet myself, but I dare say I could teach you.”

  “Of course I’ll be only too glad to be your pupil. But you must be patient with me.”

  “It’s quite simple really. There’s hardly anything to learn,” Daiyu told her. “In regulated verse it’s just a matter of opening, developing, changing and concluding; and the developing and changing couplets in the middle should be antithetical. A level tone should be contrasted with a deflected one, an abstract word with a concrete one. But if you’ve got a really fine line, the rules can be disregarded.”

  Xiangling said, “No wonder, then that whenever I steal time to read a couple of old poems, I find some lines have very neat parallelisms while others have none. And I understood there was a rule that the first, third and fifth characters of a line needn’t follow the tone pattern, but the second, fourth and sixth must abide strictly by it. Yet I found that in some old poems even the second, fourth and sixth characters break the rules. This has always puzzled me. From your explanation it seems one needn’t bother with these rules, provided the line is fresh and original.”

  “That’s right. The rules of prosody are secondary, the main thing is to have original ideas. For if there’s feeling, a poem is good even if the lines are unpolished. This is what we mean by ‘not letting the words interfere with the sense.’“

  Xiangling gushed, “I simply love those lines by Lu You:

  The heavy hangings, unrolled, retain the scent of incense;

  The old inkstone, slightly concave, brims with ink.