by Cao Xueqin
Jia Lian had to order the curtain to be raised. But the sight of Second Sister robbed Hu Junrong of his senses. He was too dazed to know what he was doing. Then the curtain was lowered and Jia Lian escorted him out. Asked what the trouble was he said:
“It’s not a pregnancy, just congestion of the blood. To make her periods normal, we must get rid of the congestion.” He then wrote a prescription and took his leave.
Jia Lian ordered servants to send over the doctor’s fee and buy and prepare the medicine for the patient.
In the middle of the night, Second Sister had such a pain in her stomach that she miscarried—the foetus was male—and bled so copiously that she fainted. Jia Lian hearing this cursed Hu Junrong and had another doctor fetched at once. He also sent men to go and beat up Hu; but the latter heard of this in time to bundle together his things and run away.
The newly summoned doctor said, “She had a weak constitution to begin with, and after conceiving she seems to have been bottling up some resentment. That other gentleman made the mistake of using potent drugs which have undermined the lady’s health completely. We cannot look for a speedy recovery. She will have to take both potions and pills, and must pay no attention to any malicious gossip; then we can only hope she may get well.” This said, he left.
In a frenzy, Jia Lian asked who it was that had fetched that fellow Hu and had the man beaten within an inch of his life.
Xifeng showing ten times more anxiety exclaimed, “We seem fated to have no son! After going to such trouble to beget one, we come up against this bungling quack.” She offered incense and kowtowed to Heaven and Earth, praying earnestly, “Let me fall ill if only Sister You can recover, conceive again and give birth to a boy. Then I’ll gladly fast and chant sutras for the rest of my life.”
Jia Lian and the others, seeing this, could not but praise her.
While Jia Lian stayed with Qiutong, Xifeng prepared soup and broth for the invalid.
She also berated Pinger, “You’re just as luckless as me with my illness, because you’re not ill, just barren! It must be our bad luck that’s brought the Second Mistress to this pass—or may be someone’s horoscope clashes with hers.”
Thereupon she sent out to consult fortune-tellers, who returned the reply that the trouble had been caused by a woman born in the year of the rabbit. They checked, and as Qiutong was the only one in their household born in that year they laid the blame at her door.
Qiutong’s jealousy had already been aroused by the care Jia Lian lavished on Second Sister, fetching doctors, giving her medicine, and having the servant who had blundered beater. Now she was told that she was the one to blame, and Xifeng advised her to move out for a few months and make herself scarce.
Qiutong wept and stormed, “What’s all this senseless talk from that blind rascal? I kept as clear of her as well water and river water. How could my horoscope clash with hers? She had all sorts of contacts outside, the slut. Why does the jinx have to be found here? Which of all those fine fellows she knew got her with child? It’s only this credulous master of ours who’s taken in by her. Even if she had a child, we wouldn’t know whether its name should be Zhang or Wang. You may treasure her bastard, madam, but not I! Who can’t have a child? If I have one a year or so from now, at least there’ll be no doubt who fathered it.”
The maids were amused by this tirade but dared not laugh outright. And just then Lady Xing called.
Qiutong told her, “The Second Master and Second Mistress want to throw me out. I’ve nowhere to go. Please take pity on me, madam!”
Lady Xing first scolded Xifeng, then said sternly to Jia Lian:
“You ungrateful cur! Whatever her faults, she was given you by your father. How can you throw her out for the sake of a woman you brought in from outside? Have you no respect for your father? If you want to get rid of her, you can at least return her to him.” She then left in a temper.
Emboldened by this, Qiutong went to Second Sister’s window to scream abuse at her, making her feel even more wretched.
Jia Lian spent that night in Qiutong’s room. And after Xifeng had gone to bed Pinger slipped in to see Second Sister and comfort her, advising her to rest well and not trouble about that bitch.
Second Sister took her hand and said through tears, “How good you’ve been to me, sister, since I came here! You’ve suffered a lot too on my account.
If I come out of this alive, I’ll repay your kindness. I’m afraid I’m done for, though, and can only pay you back in my next life.” Pinger was reduced to tears too.
“It was all my fault,” she confessed. “I was too naive. I never kept anything from her, so when I heard of your marriage outside I felt I had to tell her. I had no idea such trouble would come of it.”
“No, you’re wrong,” protested Second Sister. “If you hadn’t told, she’d have found out anyway. You just happened to tell her first. At any rate, I wanted to move in for appearances’ sake. So you’re in no way to blame.”
They both wept again and presently, after a few more words of advice, Pinger saw that it was late and went back to rest.
Left to herself Second Sister thought, “I’m so ill, and getting worse every day, I see no hope of recovery. And now that I’ve miscarried and haven’t the child to worry about, why should I go on putting up with such taunts? Better die and be done with it! They say swallowing gold will kill you. Wouldn’t that be a cleaner death than hanging myself or cutting my own throat?”
She struggled out of bed and opened her case, from which she took a piece of gold of a fair size. Weeping and cursing her fate, she put it in her mouth and after several desperate attempts succeeded in swallowing it. Then she hastily dressed herself neatly and put on her trinkets,, after which she lay down on the kang. Not a soul had any suspicion of what she had done.
The next morning when she failed to call for her maids, they attended cheerfully to their own toilets while Xifeng and Qiutong went off to pay their respects to the senior mistresses.
Pinger was shocked by this and scolded the maids, “Don’t be so heartless! You only obey harsh people who beat or curse you—and that’s the treatment you deserve. Have you no pity at all for someone so ill? You might at least behave decently, instead of taking advantage of her good nature and kicking her when she’s down.”
The maids opened Second Sister’s door then. At sight of her lying— neatly dressed—dead on her bed, they screamed with fright. Pinger running in wept bitterly when she saw this. And the maids, remembering now how gentle Second Sister had been and how much kinder to them than Xifeng, shed tears over her death as well, but took care to hide their grief from their dreaded mistress.
The news spread at once through the whole mansion. Jia Lian came in, clasped the corpse and wept without stop.
Xifeng put on a show of sobbing, “How cruel of you, sister, to leave me alone like this! What a poor return for my kindness!”
Madam You and Jia Rong also came to mourn and console Jia Lian. Then he reported the matter to Lady Wang, and obtained permission to leave the corpse for five days in Pear Fragrance Court before its removal to Iron Threshold Temple. Hasty orders were given to have the court gate opened and the three main rooms cleared for the coffin’s resting place. Since it would be unbecoming to carry the bier through the back gate, Jia Lian had a new gate leading to the street made through the main wall facing Pear Fragrance Court; booths were set up on either side of this and an altar was erected for Buddhist masses. And there Second Sister was carried on a soft couch with a silken mattress and a coverlet shrouding her body. Eight pages and a few matrons escorted the bier from the inner wall to Pear Fragrance Court, where they had an astrologer waiting.
When Jia Lian lifted the coverlet and saw Second Sister lying there as if alive, yet even lovelier than in life, he threw his arms around her.
“Wife, your death is a mystery,” he wailed. “But I brought it on you.”
Jia Rong hastily stepped forward to console him.
&
nbsp; “Don’t give way to such grief, uncle. This aunt of mine was ill-starred.” As he spoke he pointed south at the wall of Grand View Garden.
Jia Lian caught his meaning and softly stamped his foot.
“Yes, I know. I shall get to the bottom of it and avenge you!”
The astrologer reported that as the lady had died at five in the morning she could not be carried to the temple on the fifth, but the third or the seventh would be appropriate, and the body should be confined at three the next morning—an auspicious hour.
“The third won’t do,” said Jia Lian. “We’ll make it the seventh. As my uncle and cousin are away, we mustn’t leave her here too long as this is a minor funeral. After the coffin has been placed in the temple for five weeks, we’ll have a big mass and then close the mourning shrine. Next year it can be taken south for burial.”
The astrologer approved this and left after writing out the obituary. Baoyu had already come to mourn, and now other members of the clan arrived. Jia Lian hurried back then to ask Xifeng for money for the coffin and funeral rites.
Meanwhile, after seeing the body carried away, Xifeng had shammed illness again and claimed that Their Ladyships would not let her attend any ceremonies while unwell. She did not put on mourning either. Going instead to the Garden, past the rockeries to the wall at the north end, she eavesdropped on her husband outside, then came back to report the few remarks she had caught to the Lady Dowager.
“Don’t listen to his nonsense,” said the old lady, “Girls who die of consumption are cremated, aren’t they, and their ashes scattered? Why should she have a formal funeral and burial? Still, as she was a secondary wife, let her body be kept for five weeks in the temple before being carried out to be burnt or buried in some common graveyard.”
Xifeng smiled.
“That’s exactly what I think, but I dare not urge him to do that.” A maid came then to ask Xifeng to go back as Jia Lian had gone home to get some money from her, and so she had to return.
“What money do we have?” she asked him. “Don’t you know how tight things have been here recently? We couldn’t distribute each month’s allowance on time. It’s been like hens eating up next year’s grain. Yesterday I pawned a gold necklace for three hundred taels, and that may have given you ideas; but now only about two dozen taels are left. If you want that you can have it.”
She told Pinger to fetch this and gave it to Jia Lian, then went off again on the excuse that the old lady wanted her.
Jia Lian swallowing his resentment had to resort to opening Second Sister’s cases to look for any savings; but all he found were some broken trinkets, soiled artificial flowers and some of her half worn silk clothes, the sight of which reduced him to tears again. He wrapped them up in a cloth and, not asking the maids or pages to carry the bundle, started out to burn it himself. Pinger, both touched and amused, filched a packet of loose silver—about two hundred taels— and going to the eastern rooms gave him this, warning him to keep it a secret.
“If you must cry, can’t you cry as much as you want outside?” she scolded him. “Why do it here, attracting attention?
“You’re right,” said Jia Lian as he took the silver. He then gave a skirt to Pinger saying, “This is one she was fond of wearing. Keep it for me as a memento.”
Pinger accepted it and put it away.
Having taken the silver, Jia Lian came out with some others and ordered men to buy wood for the coffin. The best timber was expensive, but nothing inferior would satisfy him; so he mounted his horse and went to make the choice himself. By evening some good timber had been delivered as it cost five hundred taels, he had to buy it on credit. He had the coffin made immediately, at the same time assigning mourners to keep vigil, and he did not go home that night, but watched by the coffin.
What happened later is recorded in the next chapter.
Chapter 70
Daiyu Starts Another Poetry Club—Peach-Blossom Society
Xiangyun Dashes Off a Poem on Willow Catkins
Jia Lian attended the funeral ceremonies at Pear Fragrance Court for seven days and seven nights, during which monks and priests chanted sutras. Then the Lady Dowager summoned him and forbade him to send the coffin to the family temple, so all he could do was choose a spot near Third Sister’s grave and arrange with of the temple to have Second Sister buried there. Only members of the clan, Wang Xin and his wife, Madam You and her daughter-in-law were present at the interment. Xifeng did not lift a finger to help, leaving Jia Lian to manage everything himself.
New Year was now approaching and, on top of the host of things that had to be seen to, Lin Zhixiao brought a list of eight men-servants who had reached the age of twenty-five and not yet married, to ask whether there were any maids due to leave who would make them suitable wives. Xifeng having read the list went to consult the old lady and Lady Wang, but although there were several maids in that category they found objections in the case of each. First, Yuanyang since vowing never to leave their service had neither spoken to Baoyu nor put on fine clothes or make up; and in view of her determination, they could hardly force her to marry. Then Hupo was disqualified by illness. And Caiyun, since breaking with Jia Huan recently, had also contracted some unknown disease. Apart from them, only the older maid-servants doing rough work for Xifeng and Li Wan were due to leave. The others were too young. So the men had to look for wives outside.
While Xifeng was unwell, Li Wan and Tanchun had been too occupied with domestic affairs to have time for anything else; and what with celebrating New Year and the Lantern Festival and miscellaneous business, the poetry club had been forgotten. Now, although there was a lull and it was midspring, a whole series of misfortunes—Baoyu’s loss of his friend Liu Xianglian, the suicides of Third Sister and Second Sister, and Liu Wuer’s illness brought on by mortification— had reduced Baoyu to such a state of dejection that he appeared dazed and often raved like a madman. Xiren and his other maids were alarmed but not daring to report this to the old lady they just did their best in every way to divert him.
One morning, as soon as he woke he heard giggling and muffled cries from the outer room.
“Go and rescue her, quick!” said Xiren with a smile. “Qingwen and Sheyue have pinned Venturina down and are ticking her.”
Baoyu draped his squirrel-fur jacket over his shoulders and went out to have a look. The three girls had not folded their quilts or put on their outer clothes. Qingwen in a leek-green silk bodice, red silk pants and red slippers, her hair tousled, was sitting astride Fangguan who was being tickled in the ribs by Sheyue in a red silk chemise, an old jacket over her shoulders. Fangguan lying on her back in a flowered bodice, red pants and green socks was thrashing her legs wildly, quite out of breath from laughing.
“Two big girls bullying one small one!” chuckled Baoyu. “I’ve come to the rescue.”
He climbed on to the kang to tickle Qingwen in the ribs. Being ticklish, she at once let go of Fangguan to grab him; and Fangguan seized this chance to pull her down and tickle her under the armpits.
“Mind you don’t catch cold!” warned Xiren, amused to see the four of them scuffling together.
Just then Li Wan’s maid Biyue came in.
“Last night my mistress left a handkerchief somewhere,” she announced. “Is it here?”
Xiaoyan answered, “Yes, it is. I picked it up from the floor and didn’t know whose it was. I’ve just washed it and hung it out. It’s not quite dry yet.”
Biyue smiled at sight of the scrimmage on the kang. “You’re lively here,” she remarked, “starting your horseplay so early in the morning.”
“Don’t you play about in your place too?” asked Baoyu. “There are plenty of you there.”
“Our mistress is so serious that her two cousins and Miss Baoqin hold themselves in check as well. And now that Miss Baoqin’s moved in with the old lady we’re even quieter. By winter next year, when her cousins will have gone, it will be still quieter. Didn’t you notice how lonely Miss B
aochai’s place seemed after Xiangling went home, leaving Miss Xiangyun all on her own?”
Even as she was speaking, in came Cuilu sent by Xiangyun to invite Baoyu over to read a fine poem. Asked where this good poem was, she said:
“The young ladies are all at Seeping Fragrance Pavilion. Go and see for yourself, young master.”
Baoyu hastily washed, dressed and left. Sure enough he found Daiyu, Baochai, Xiangyun, Baoqin and Tanchun all there reading a poem.
“Why are you so late up?” they demanded. “For a year our poetry club’s been broken up and no one’s called it together again. Now it’s early spring, a fresh start for all living things and high time to bestir ourselves to get it going again.”
“We started the club in autumn,” added Xiangyun. “That’s why it didn’t prosper. If we start it again now in spring when everything burgeons, it’s bound to come to life. And this poem on peach-blossom is so good, why not change our Begonia Club into Peach-Blossom Club?”
Baoyu nodded approvingly and asked to read the poem.
But the others proposed, “Let’s go and find the Old Peasant of Sweet Paddy, to talk it over together and get things going.”
With that they all got up and set off for Paddy-Sweet Cottage, Baoyu reading the poem on the way. It was as follows:
PEACH-BLOSSOM
Outside the blind, peach-blossom, a soft spring breeze;
Within, a girl is languidly dressing her hair.
Outside, the peach-blossom; within the girl—
Not far apart the blossom and maid so fair.
Obligingly, the breeze blows back the blind
And holds it to afford a glimpse of her bower;
Outside, the peach is blooming as of old,
Frailer the girl within than any flower.
The flowers, knowing pity, grieve for her;