A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  He called for Li Gui then and told him, “Tomorrow morning Beiming is to accompany Baoyu to the family school, after first getting ready the books he needs and bringing them to show me.”

  To Baoyu he said sternly, “You may go now. Come back here tomorrow morning.”

  Baoyu had nothing to say to this and went back to Happy Red Court, where Xiren was anxiously waiting. She was pleased by the news that he was to go back to school. He, however, sent word at once to his grandmother in the hope that she would put a stop to this scheme; and on receiving his message she sent for him.

  “Don’t worry,” she told him. “Go to school, or your father will be angry. Anyone who makes it difficult for you will have me to reckon with.”

  As there was no more Baoyu could do, he went back.

  “Call me early tomorrow morning,” he ordered his maids. “The master’s taking me to the family school.”

  Xiren and the others assented, and she and Sheyue took turns keeping watch that night.

  Xiren woke Baoyu early the next day and, having helped him dress, sent a young maid to tell Beiming to be ready waiting by the inner gate with his books and other school things. But she had to urge Baoyu twice before he would leave. On reaching Jia Zheng’s study, he asked whether his father had arrived or not.

  The page on duty told him, “Just now one of his secretaries came to see him, but they said the master was still getting dressed and asked him to wait outside.”

  Feeling slightly relieved Baoyu hurried to Jia Zheng’s apartment, arriving just as his father was sending for him. Baoyu went in and listened to his instructions, after which they mounted the carriage and, with Beiming carrying the books, drove to the family school. A servant had gone on ahead to announce their arrival.

  Dairu stood up as Jia Zheng entered the classroom and greeted him. Taking him by the hand, the teacher asked after his health and that of the old lady. Then Baoyu went over to pay his respects, while his father waited for Dairu to take a seat before sitting down himself.

  “I have brought my son here myself today because I have a request to make,” said Jia Zheng. “He’s no longer a child and it’s time for him to study for his career, so as to establish himself and win a name in future. At home nowadays he just fools around with the children. He may have a smattering of poetry, but the verses he writes are nonsensical; and even if they were good, those effusions about the wind and rain, moonlight and dew have no bearing on his life-work.”

  “He looks a handsome, intelligent lad,” Dairu answered. “Why should he just play about instead of studying? Poetry is all very well, but he’ll have plenty of time to take that up after passing the official examinations.”

  “Quite so,” agreed Jia Zheng. “All we want him to study now is the classics. He must learn how to expound them and how to write essays. If he is disobedient, I hope you will discipline him thoroughly, so that his life won’t be wasted for lack of solid learning.”

  He stood up then, made a bow, and after a few more civilities took his leave. Dairu saw him to the gate and asked him to convey his respects to the Lady Dowager. Then Jia Zheng, assenting, mounted his carriage and left.

  Re-entering the classroom, Dairu saw that Baoyu had a small hardwood desk in a corner by the southwest window. On the right side of the desk he had piled two sets of old books and one slim volume of essays. Beiming, on his instructions, was arranging his writing materials in the drawers.

  The teacher said, “Baoyu, I heard you were unwell some time ago. Have you recovered completely?”

  Baoyu stood up to answer, “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, the time has come now for you to study hard. Your father is very anxious that you should turn out well. First revise, right from the beginning, all those books you studied before. Spend every morning on that. After lunch you can practise calligraphy. In the afternoon, you’ll expound texts and read essays.”

  Baoyu assented respectfully, then sat down and looked around, perceiving that several old classmates such as Jin Rong were missing, while the few younger boys who had joined since he left appeared a coarse, common lot. Recalling Qin Zhong, it struck him with dismay that he had no friend now with whom to exchange confidences. But not venturing to speak, he moodily started reading.

  The teacher told him, “As this is your first day, I’ll let you go home early. Tomorrow I want to hear you expound a text. You’re by no means stupid. When you’ve analysed a few passages for me tomorrow, I shall be able to see how much you’ve read recently and what standard you’ve reached.”

  This set Baoyu’s heart thumping. To know how he made out, read the following chapter.

  Chapter 82

  An Old Teacher Expounds the Classics to Warn Against Mischief

  The Queen of Bamboos Falling Ill Has a Fearful Nightmare

  Baoyu, home from school, went to call on his grandmother.

  “Good! Now the wild colt’s muzzled,” she said with a smile.

  “Report to your father, then go and amuse yourself.”

  Baoyu, having assented, presented himself to Jia Zheng.

  “Back from school so early?” his father asked. “Did the teacher assign your lessons?”

  “Yes, sir. In the morning I’m to revise the Four Books; after lunch, practise writing; in the afternoon, expound texts and read essays.”

  Jia Zheng nodded.

  “Go and keep your grandmother company for a while. Instead of just fooling around you must learn some manners. Go to bed early, and get up early to go to school every day. Do you hear?”

  “Yes, sir. Yes, sir.”

  Baoyu, withdrawing, hurried to call on his mother and then to report to his grandmother, very soon leaving her again to rush to Bamboo Lodge. Once inside the gate, he clapped and crowed with laughter.

  “Here I am back safe and sound!”

  Zijuan raised the portiere and he went in and sat down.

  “I thought I heard you’d gone to school,” said Daiyu, startled by his sudden return. “How come you’re back so early?”

  “Ah, it’s too bad!” he exclaimed. “When my father made me go to school today, I thought I’d never set eyes on you all again. But I survived it somehow, and now that we’re together again I feel as if I’d just risen from the dead! ‘One day apart seems three autumns’—how true that old saying is.”

  “Have you paid your duty calls?”

  “Yes, all of them.”

  “Called anywhere else?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “You should drop in to see your other cousins too.”

  “I can’t be bothered right now. I’d rather just sit here and chat with you for a while. ‘Early to bed and early to rise’—those are my father’s orders; so I’ll have to leave calling on them till tomorrow.”

  “After sitting here a bit you must go back to rest.”

  “I’m not tired, only dying of boredom. Sitting here with you I don’t feel bored, yet now you’re trying to shoo me away again!”

  With a faint smile Daiyu told Zijuan, “Brew a cup of my Longjing tea for the Second Master. Now that he’s studying we must treat him with more respect.”

  Zijuan laughingly fetched the tea leaves and told one of the younger maids to make tea.

  “Don’t mention studying!” Baoyu continued. “I can’t stand such moral talk. And those eight-section essays are still more ridiculous. Using them to wangle a degree and make a living—that’s not so bad; but how can you claim they ‘voice the views of the sages’? The better ones are nothing but a hotchpotch of classical tags, while the most ludicrous ones are written by ignoramuses who drag in this, that and the other to make up a monstrous mishmash, yet boast of their erudition! How can this be called expounding the views of the sages? When father insists on my studying these essays, I can’t oppose him; but here are you talking about study too.”

  “We girls don’t have to write essays,” Daiyu answered. “Still, when I was young and your kinsman Mr. Jia Yucun was my tutor, I read a few e
ssays too. Some of them showed good sense, some were quite subtle. Though I didn’t altogether understand them, I thought quite highly of them. I don’t see how you can condemn them so sweepingly. Besides, If you want an official career, this is the scholarly way to go about it.”

  Baoyu was disgusted by talk of this kind.

  “Daiyu never used to be like this,” he reflected. “What’s made her so worldly-wise all of a sudden?” But not wanting to argue with her, he simply snorted.

  Just then they heard the voices of Qiuwen and Zijuan outside.

  “Sister Xiren said I’d find him in the old lady’s place, but instead he’s here,” said Qiuwen.

  “We’ve just made tea,” Zijuan told her. “Wait till he’s drunk it before fetching him back.”

  Then the two of them came in.

  “I’ll be coming presently,” Baoyu promised Qiuwen. “I’m sorry you had the trouble of looking for me.”

  When Qiuwen made no answer, Zijuan said, “Drink up quickly and go. They’ve been longing for you all day.”

  “Shut up, you bitch!” cried Qiuwen.

  Amid general laughter he rose to take his leave, and Daiyu saw him to the door while Zijuan waited at the foot of the steps, not reentering the house until he had gone.

  Baoyu soon reached Happy Red Court. As he went in, Xiren emerged from the inner room.

  “Is he back?” she called out.

  “Long ago,” Qiuwen answered. “I found the Second Master with Miss Lin.”

  “Did anything happen today?” Baoyu wanted to know.

  “Nothing much,” said Xiren. “Only Her Ladyship sent Sister Yuanyang over just now with a message: The master has set his mind on your studying hard, and if any maids dare fool about with you they’ll be dealt with in the same way as Qingwen and Siqi. After serving you all this time, I must say I find a warning like that uncalled for!” She was looking most put out.

  “Good sister, don’t worry,” he cried. “I’ll have to study hard so that the mistress doesn’t scold you again. In fact, I must do some reading this evening, as tomorrow I’ve got to expound texts to the teacher. If I need anything, Sheyue and Qiuwen can attend to it. You’d better go and rest.”

  “If you’re really going to study hard, we’ll be glad to wait on you,” was her reply.

  Baoyu had a hasty supper, then made them light the lamp so that he could revise the Four Books. But where to start? When he leafed through one volume, the text seemed clear enough; yet when he thought it over carefully, he was not too sure of the meaning. He consulted the notes and then the commentaries, until the first watch had sounded.

  “I find poetry very easy, but with this I’m getting nowhere,” he reflected as he sat there, his mind in a whirl.

  “Go to bed now,” urged Xiren: “You can’t digest all that in just one night.”

  When Baoyu mumbled agreement she and Sheyue helped him to bed, then turned in themselves. But Xiren, waking later, heard him still tossing about.

  “Are you still awake?” she asked. “Stop racking your brains! You must get some rest if you’re going to study well tomorrow.”

  “I know, but I can’t sleep. Will you come and take off one of these quilts for me?”

  “Better keep it on—it’s not hot.”

  “Well, I feel hectic.”

  He started kicking off one of his quilts.

  Xiren promptly got up to stop him, and laying one hand on his forehead found it a little hot.

  “Don’t move,” She coaxed. “You’re rather feverish.”

  “I know.”

  “How come?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s because I’m feeling frantic. But don’t raise an alarm, or my father’s bound to say I’m shamming to get out of going to school—or why else should I fall ill now of all times? I’ll be well enough to go back to school tomorrow; then everything will be all right.”

  Taking pity on him she said, “I’ll come and sleep with you.”

  She massaged his back for a while, then they both dozed off, not waking until the sun was high in the sky.

  “Confound it, I’ve overslept!” exclaimed Baoyu.

  He hastily dressed, paid his respects to his elders and hurried to school. Already the teacher was glowering.

  “No wonder your father is angry and calls you good-for-nothing you start slacking on your second day at school! What time is it now?”

  Baoyu excused himself by explaining about his feverish night, then settled down again to study.

  That afternoon Dairu set him a passage to analyse from the Analects; beginning with the line “Respect the young.” He thanked his lucky stars that it was not from the Great Learning or the Doctrine of the Mean .

  “How am I to analyse it?” he asked.

  “Carefully explain the passage and the gloss.”

  Baoyu read it aloud, then began, “In this passage the sage is encouraging young people, exhorting them to work hard while there is time, so as not....”

  He broke off here and glanced up at the teacher, who smiled.

  “Just go ahead. In expounding the classics, as the Book of Ceremony says, nothing is taboo. Go on... So as not...’—what?”

  “So as not to grow old without achieving anything. First he says ‘respect’ to encourage young people, then warns them not to grow into men whom nobody would respect.”

  He looked up expectantly.

  “That’s more or less right,” said Dairu. “Now paraphrase the whole text.”

  “The sage said: When people are young, their intelligence and talents all seem quite formidable. Who can be sure that in future they won’t equal me today? But if they let things slide until they are forty or fifty and still not known, however promising they may have been when young, by that time nobody will ever fear them.”

  The teacher smiled.

  “When you summarized the meaning just now, it was fairly clear,” he said. “But your paraphrase was rather childish. The words ‘not known’ don’t mean failure to attain officialdom. Here ‘knowing’ refers to understanding the truth, which doesn’t depend on becoming an official. Didn’t some sages of old turn hermit and remain unknown? They weren’t officials, were they? But does that mean they were no good?”

  “When he said that such cases were ‘not to be feared,’ he meant that people knew the limitations of their understanding; so this is in direct contrast to the previous idea—it doesn’t imply fearing their power. You should examine such points carefully to grasp their subtlety. Do you understand now?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then here’s another passage for you to expound.”

  He turned to a page and pointed out for Baoyu the line, “I have never yet seen anyone who loved goodness as much as beauty.”

  Feeling rather sensitive on this score, Baoyu objected with a smile, “There’s nothing worth expounding here.”

  “Nonsense! If this subject were set in the examinations, would you say it wasn’t worth writing about?”

  Then Baoyu had to comply.

  “The sage noticed that men didn’t love goodness but were enraptured with beauty when they saw it. Actually, goodness is something inherent in human nature, yet people don’t hanker after it. As for beauty, though it’s also born not made, and everybody loves it, it is a human desire whereas goodness is a law of nature. However, people don’t love the law of nature as much as human desire. Confucius both deplored this and hoped that men would change their ways. He also noticed that though some men loved goodness, that love didn’t go very deep. Only when they came to love goodness as much as beauty could that be considered true love.”

  “That is more or less correct,” commented Dairu. “Now tell me this. If you understand the sage’s teachings, why are you having trouble on both scores? Though I don’t stay in your family and your father has never spoken to me of this, I am well aware of your shortcomings. Why don’t you want to make progress? You’re young now, just at the ‘formidable’ age. Whether you turn out well or not is
entirely up to you. I’m going to give you a month to revise all the classics you studied before, then another month to read essays. After that I’ll set you subjects to write about. And I shan’t tolerate any slacking! As the proverb says, ‘Men must choose between progress and comfort. Keep what I’ve told you in mind!”

  Baoyu promised to do so, and from that day on he had to apply himself harder to his studies.

  After Baoyu went back to school, Happy Red Court was so quiet that Xiren had more time for embroidery. As she stitched a pouch for betel-nuts one day, she reflected that his return to school had made life less complicated for his maids; indeed, had he gone back earlier, Qingwen might never have come to such a sad end. Grieving over her friend’s death, she sighed. Then it occurred to her that although at present she could control Baoyu, as she was not destined to be his wife but only a concubine, if his wife proved a termagant she herself would share the same fate as Second Sister You and Xiangling. Judging by the attitude of Their Ladyships as well as certain remarks let fall by Xifeng, it seemed as if their choice would be Daiyu—who could be difficult. Flushing at this thought, her heart beat so fast that she plied her needle at random. Finally, laying down her embroidery, she went to Daiyu’s place to sound her out.

  Daiyu, engrossed in reading when she arrived, got up to offer her a seat.

  “Are you much better these days, miss?” asked Xiren stepping forward.

  “How could I be? A bit better, that’s all. What have you been doing at home?”

  “Since Master Bao went back to school we’ve had very little to do. So I dropped in here for a chat to see how you are.” Zijuan brought in tea at this point.

  “You mustn’t trouble, sister!” Xiren rose to her feet, then added with a smile, “I heard the other day from Qiuwen that you’d been gossiping behind our backs!”

  “Don’t you believe her,” Zijuan laughed. “All I said was that with Master Bao away at school, Miss Baochai gone and even Xiangling staying away, you must be feeling lonely.”