by Cao Xueqin
“You should have looked in the mirror before butting in there, sister,” one of them sniggered.
The woman, torn between rage and shame, had to control herself as best she could.
By now, Fangguan had blown on the soup several times. “That’ll do,” said Baoyu. “Don’t tire yourself. Taste it to see if it’s cool enough.”
Thinking he must be joking, she turned with a smile to Xiren and the other girls.
“Go on, taste it,” urged Xiren.
“Let me show you,” offered Qingwen, then took a sip. Fangguan followed her example. “It’s all right,” she said.
She passed the soup to Baoyu, who drank half a bowl and ate a few bamboo shoots with half a bowl of rice gruel. After that they cleared the table, some young maids brought in a basin, and as soon as he had rinsed his mouth and washed it was time for Xiren and the others to have their meal.
Baoyu signaled at this point to Fangguan. And since she was quick in the uptake and had learned a good deal in her few years as an actress, she pretended that she had a headache and had lost her appetite.
“Then you may as well stay here and keep him company,” said Xiren. “I’ll leave you the gruel, in case you feel like it later.” With that the other girls left.
When the two of them were alone, Baoyu described in detail how he had noticed something burning and spotted Ouguan, how he had lied to cover up for her, and how Ouguan had told him to ask her, Fangguan, for an explanation.
“For whom were those offerings?” he asked.
Fangguan heard him out with a smile, then heaved a sigh.
“It’s a funny business but pathetic too.”
“What do you mean?”
“That offering was for Diguan, who died.”
“Why not, if they were friends?”
“They weren’t just ordinary friends. Ouguan had the fantastic notion that as she used to play young men and Diguan young ladies, and as they were often cast as husband and wife, although it was make-believe they should act the part every day as if they were really in love. So they became so crazy about each other that even offstage they were for ever together. In the end they were so devoted that when Diguan died she nearly Cried her heart out, and to this day she’s never forgotten her. That’s why she burns paper money at all the festivals. When Ruiguan later took Diguan’s place, we found that Ouguan was just as attached to her.
“‘Has your new sweetheart made you forget the old one?’ we asked.
“‘No, but there’s a very good reason for this,’ she told us. ‘I’m like a widower who marries again. If he doesn’t forget his first wife, he’s still true to her. But if he insists on remaining single all the rest of his life, that’s against the rules of propriety too, and how could his dead wife rest in peace in her grave?’
“Don’t you call that crazy and senseless? It’s really ridiculous!”
However, such foolish talk was precisely the kind to appeal to foolish Baoyu. He exclaimed in wonder, torn between sadness and joy.
“Since Heaven creates such wonderful girls, what use are we filthy males except to contaminate the world?” he cried.
He took Fangguan’s hand and urged her, “If that’s how things are, you must tell her something from me. I can’t very well tell her directly.”
“What is it?” asked Fangguan.
“In future, she mustn’t burn paper coins. That’s a later practice and a heretical one, not based on the instructions of Confucius. At all future festivals she need only burn some incense in a censer; and if her heart is pure, Diguan’s spirit will know it. Foolish people don’t understand and have different sorts of sacrifices for the gods, Buddha and the dead; whereas actually the important thing is just sincerity. Even if you’re in a hurry, or away from home and unable to find incense, you can offer a clod of earth or a blade of grass, provided that it’s clean. Not only will the spirits of the dead accept such a sacrifice, even the gods will too.
“Haven’t you seen that censer on my desk? Whenever I miss some dead friend, whatever the date, I burn incense and offer some fresh water or tea, or maybe flowers or fruit, or even meat or vegetables. As long as your heart is pure, Buddha himself will come to the sacrifice. That’s why we say: ‘It’s the intention that counts, not the empty form.’ So go presently and tell her not to bum any more paper money in future.”
Fangguan promised to do this and then ate the rice gruel.
Just at that moment someone announced that Their Ladyships were back. To know what happened after, read the next chapter.
Chapter 59
Pinger and Chunyan Are Scolded by Willow Bank
And Red Rue Studio Sends for Reinforcements
Baoyu put on a coat and went over with his cane to pay his respects to Their Ladyships. Tired out after their recent exertions, they went to bed unusually early and after an uneventful night returned to the court at dawn.
The day for the funeral cortege to set off to the Imperial Tombs was now approaching. Yuanyang, Hupo, Feicui and Boli were busy packing the Lady Dowager’s things while Yuchuan, Caiyun and Caixia packed for Lady Wang, after which they checked through the baggage with the stewards’ wives who would be accompanying their mistresses. Six maids and ten stewards’ wives in all would be going, in addition to men-servants; but Yuanyang and Yuchuan were to stay behind to see to things at home. Horse-borne litters and harness had been made ready. And the curtains and bedding which had been prepared a few days previously were taken on ahead in carts by four of five women and a few men to the hostel, ready for the main party’s arrival.
When the day came, the Lady Dowager and Jia Rong’s wife took a horse-borne litter, with Lady Wang behind in another, while Jia Zhen rode at the head of an escort of servants. There were several big carts too for serving-women and maids which also carried changes of clothing. Aunt Xue and Madam You, at the head of the rest of the household, saw them off from outside the main gate. And Jia Lian, to smooth their journey for them, having seen his parents off caught up with the litters and followed behind with the escort.
In the Rong Mansion, Lai Da posted extra night-watchmen and locked the two main gates so that the only way in or out was through the small west side gate; and at sunset he had the ceremonial gate closed, allowing no entrance or exit. The front and back side gates and those to the east and west of the Garden were also locked, except for that leading to the back of Lady Wang’s compound, which was used by the girls, and the gate on the east to Aunt Xue’s compound. These two, being in the inner court, did not have to be locked.
Inside, Yuanyang and Yuchuan also closed their mistresses’ main apartments, and took the other maids and matrons from there to stay in the servants’ quarters; while every night Lin Zhixiao’s wife brought some dozen old serving-women to keep watch, and all the entrance halls were patrolled by extra pages with clappers. In this way excellent order was maintained.
Early one spring morning when Baochai awoke, parted her bed-curtains and got up, she found it rather chilly. She opened the door and looked out. The soil in the courtyard was moist, the moss on it green, for a light rain had fallen at dawn. She then woke Xiangyun and the others.
As they were dressing, Xiangyun remarked that her cheeks itched. She was afraid she had a spring rash again, and would like some rose-nitric powder to apply to it.
“I gave all I had left the other day to Baoqin,” Baochai told her. “Daiyu had a good deal made and I was meaning to ask her for some, but not having felt any itching this spring I forgot.” She ordered Yinger to go and fetch some of this powder.
As Yinger was about to leave on this errand, Ruiguan offered to go with her, as that would give her a chance to see Ouguan. So the two of them set off from Alpinia Park.
Chatting as they strolled, the girls soon reached Willow Bank. As they walked along it they saw that the willows, now turning green, seemed hung with golden threads.
“Can you weave things out of osiers?” Yinger asked.
“What sort of thi
ngs?”
“Oh, anything—little toys or useful objects. Wait till I’ve picked a few twigs with leaves and I’ll make a basket to fill with different flowers. That should be fun.”
So instead of fetching the powder, Yinger plucked an armful of tender twigs which she made Ruiguan carry, and started to weave a basket as on they walked, stopping now and then to pick flowers. The dainty little basket was soon completed. Covered with its own fresh green leaves and filled with flowers, it made a charming and original toy. Ruiguan was delighted with it.
“Do be a dear and give it to me!” she begged.
“No, this is for Miss Lin. We’ll pick more to make some for the rest of us later.”
By now they had reached Bamboo Lodge, where they found Daiyu at her toilet. At sight of the basket she exclaimed with pleasure.
“Who made this pretty thing?”
“I did,” said Yinger. “It’s a present for you, miss.”
Daiyu took it, remarking, “No wonder everyone says you have clever fingers. This is really original.” After examining it she made Zijuan hang it up.
Yinger, having asked after Aunt Xue, disclosed her errand. Then Daiyu got Zijuan to wrap up a packet of the powder for her.
“I’m better today,” remarked Daiyu. “I mean to go for a stroll. Go back and tell Cousin Baochai there’s no need for her to come and pay her respects to Aunt Xue or trouble to call on me either. As soon as I’ve done my hair, we’re both going, over to your place. We shall have our breakfast taken over there too. It will be livelier having it together.”
Yinger assented, then went to Zijuan’s room where she found Ruiguan unwilling to leave, so engrossed was she in her conversation with Ouguan.
“Miss Daiyu is coming to our place,” Yinger told them. “Why not come with us, Ouguan, and wait for her there?”
“That’s a good idea,” said Zijuan. “She’s just a nuisance here.” She wrapped up Daiyu’s spoon and chopsticks in a table napkin and gave it to Ouguan saying, “Here’s a job for you. Take this along first.”
Ouguan went off cheerfully with the other two. As they walked along Willow Bank, Yinger picked some more twigs, then sat down on a rock to plait them, telling Ruiguan to deliver the powder first and then come back. But the two other girls were too intrigued by what she was making to leave. To hurry them she threatened: “If you don’t go now, I’ll stop.”
“I’ll go with you,” volunteered Ouguan. “Then we can hurry back.”
And with that they went off.
Presently along came Mother He’s young daughter Chunyan, who wanted to know what Yinger was making. Just at that moment the other girls returned.
“What was that paper you were burning the other day when my aunt spotted you?” Chunyan asked Ouguan. “Before she could report you, Baoyu gave her such a dressing-down that she went off in a huff and told my mother all about it. What feud did you have with them those few years in the troupe outside the Garden that you’re still at loggerheads?”
“What feud?” Ouguan snorted. “There’s just no satisfying them they’re for ever nagging at us. Not to mention anything else, goodness knows how much they made the last two years out of our daily food allowance outside—more than enough to feed their own families—in addition to their rakeoff on purchases. Yet any job we give them, they complain to high heaven. What sort of behaviour is that?”
Chunyan smiled.
“She’s my aunt, so I can’t run her down to outsiders. But no wonder Baoyu says: ‘A girl before marriage is a precious pearl; after marriage, she somehow picks up all sorts of bad habits so that the pearl loses its lustre—it’s a dead pearl; and as she grows still older, the pearl changes into a fish-eye. What a metamorphosis!’
“That’s silly talk maybe, still there’s something in it. I don’t know about other people, but as for my mother and her sister, my aunt, it’s true that the older they grow the madder they get for money. First, at home, the two of them groused that they had no fat jobs; then luckily there was this Garden and I happened to be assigned to Happy Red Court; so apart from saving my keep, the family got four or five hundred cash extra a month. But they still said that wasn’t enough. Later both were assigned to Pear Fragrance Court to look after the actresses. My aunt had Ouguan as her foster-daughter; my mother, Fangguan; so for the last few years they were in clover. Since the actresses have moved into the Garden, they’ve been living separately, but they’re still just as greedy. Ridiculous, isn’t it?
“The other day my aunt scolded Ouguan; then my mother squabbled with Fangguan—wouldn’t even let her wash her hair. Yesterday being payday, my mother got Fangguan’s monthly allowance. As she couldn’t get out of buying her some things, she told me I could wash first. I thought: I’ve my own monthly allowance, and even if I hadn’t I could wash my hair any time simply by asking Xiren, Qingwen or Sheyue. Why should I accept this as a favour? How futile! When I refused, she made my younger sister Xiaojiu wash before Fangguan. Then naturally there was a row. And next she wanted to blow on Baoyu’s soup—it’s enough to make you split your sides laughing.
“As soon as she came in here I told her the rules; but she didn’t believe me, insisted she knew better. She’s simply been asking for a snub. It’s a good thing there are so many people in the Garden that no one remembers different relationships clearly. If they did, and it appeared that ours was the only quarrelsome family, I’d feel bad about these squabbles.
“Now you’re playing about here where everything’s in the charge of my paternal aunt, who’s stricter about it, ever since it was put in her care, than about her own property. Apart from getting up early and turning in late so as to watch over it, she makes us keep an eye on things too for fear any damage is done, interfering, I’m afraid, with my own work. Now that they’ve both moved in here, the two sisters-in-law keep such a careful watch, they won’t allow a single blade of grass to be touched; yet you’ve plucked all these flowers and twigs! They’ll be here any minute now—you’d better watch out!”
“Others may not be allowed to pick what they like, but I am,” retorted Yinger. “After the different places were allotted, each household was assigned its share of the produce. Not counting edibles, just take flowers for example. Those in charge have to send some over every day for the young ladies and maids to wear, as well as to put in their vases. My young lady was the only one who told them not to send any. She said she’d ask for what she needed, but in fact she never once has. So how can they scold me for picking a few flowers now?”
While she was still speaking, sure enough, along came Chunyan’s aunt leaning on her cane. Yinger and Chunyan at once urged her to be seated. The sight of all the willow twigs and flowers which Ouguan and the others had picked vexed the woman, but not liking to say anything against Yinger, who was making a basket, she rounded on her niece.
“I told you to keep an eye on things, but you take that as a chance to play around and not go back to your apartments. When they want you there, you say you’ve been working for me. Using me as your cover, eh?”
“You order me about yet you’re afraid, and now you’re scolding me,” protested Chunyan. “I can’t be everywhere at once, can I?”
“Don’t you believe her, aunt,” chuckled Yinger. “She was the one who picked all these and asked me to make her a basket. When I tried to chase her away, she wouldn’t go.”
“Don’t talk such nonsense!” cried Chunyan. “My aunt can’t take a joke, she’ll believe you.”
Indeed, her aunt had been born stupid, and now that age had addled her wits her one interest in life was money: she had no consideration at all for others. Inwardly fuming, she had not known how to retaliate until Yinger made this joke. Now, presuming on her seniority, she raised her cane and struck her niece several blows.
“Little bitch!” she swore. “I’ll teach you to talk back! Your mother’s grinding her teeth, itching to tear you to pieces and chew you up. Yet you still answer me back in that pert way!”
H
urt and humiliated, Chunyan sobbed, “Sister Yinger was only joking, yet you believed her and beat me. Why should my mother be angry? I’ve not boiled away her water or burned her pan. What have I done wrong?”
Yinger, seeing that her teasing had really angered the woman, now caught her by the arm.
“I was only joking,” she said soothingly. “By beating her you make me feel bad too.”
“Don’t meddle with our affairs, miss,” snapped the other. “Can’t we punish our own children just because you’re here?”
This stupid gibe made Yinger flush with anger. She let go of the woman with a scornful laugh.
“You can punish her any time you please. Why do it just after I make a joke? All right—go ahead.”
With that she sat down again and was going on making her basket when who should appear but Chunyan’s mother in search of her laughter.
“Why haven’t you fetched water yet?” she called. “What are you doing there?”
“Come and look at this minx!” her sister-in-law chimed in. “She won’t obey even me. She keeps answering back.”
Mother He came over to them.
“Now what’s the girl up to?” she demanded. “You may have no respect for your own mother, but you should at least show some respect to your aunt.”
Yinger tried to explain what had happened, but Chunyan’s aunt would not let her get a word in. Pointing to the flower basket on the rock she fumed:
“See! Your girl’s not a child any more, yet she still fools about. When she brings people here to wreck the place, how can I tell them off?”
Mother He’s tiff with Fangguan still rankled, and Chunyan’s waywardness made her even angrier. Stepping forward she boxed her ears.
“You bitch!” she cried. “A few years in high society and you imitate the ways of those loose women. I’ll have to teach you a lesson. I may not be able to control my foster-child but you’re my own spawn. I’m not afraid of you! Even if I can’t go where you young bitches go, why don’t you stay put there, waiting on your mistress? Why gad about outside so shamelessly?” Grabbing the osiers she brandished them in Chunyan’s face. “What’s this you’re making? Your mother’s arse?”