by Cao Xueqin
Tanchun and Xiangyun, on the point of leaving, heard an old woman shouting outside, “You good-for-nothing little bitch! Who are you to come and fool around in our Garden?”
At this Daiyu pointed outside. Showing the whites of her eyes she exclaimed, “I shall have to leave here!”
For ever since moving into Grand View Garden, though able to rely on her grandmother’s partiality Daiyu had always watched her step with other people. When she heard this abuse shouted outside her window, she was sure it must be aimed at nobody else but her. Reflecting that she was a finely brought up young lady but now had lost her parents, she wondered who had sent this old creature to insult her. This was too much to bear! With a heart-rending cry she fainted away.
“What’s come over you, miss?” wailed Zijuan. “Wake up, quick!”
Tanchun called her too, and after a while Daiyu regained consciousness. Still she could not speak, just kept pointing out of the window.
Tanchun caught her meaning and opening the door went out. She saw an old woman with a stick chasing after a grubby little girl.
“I’m here to look after the flowers and fruit trees,” the old crone was shouting. “Why should you come too? Wait till we get home and I’ll give you a good thrashing.”
The child looked round, sucking one finger, and laughed at her.
Tanchun scolded, “You people are getting too out of hand! Is this the place for you to bawl abuse?”
When the old woman saw who it was she said sheepishly, “It’s my grand-daughter who followed me here. I was afraid she’d make a noise, so I told her to go back. I wouldn’t dare bawl her out here.”
“That’s enough. Hurry up and go, the two of you. Miss Lin’s not feeling well. Hurry!”
“Yes, miss.”
The old woman made off, the small girl running after her.
Going back inside Tanchun found Xiangyun in tears, holding Daiyu’s hand. Zijuan supported the invalid with one arm and massaged her chest till, slowly, she opened her eyes.
“What did you think that old woman meant?” Tanchun asked her with a smile.
Daiyu just shook her head.
“She was scolding her grand-daughter. I heard her just now. Such creatures talk nothing but nonsense. They don’t understand that some things aren’t allowed.”
“Cousin...” sighed Daiyu, then broke off, clasping her hand.
“Don’t fret yourself. It’s only right that we should come to see you as you haven’t anyone to look after you. If you’ll just rest, take your medicine and look on the bright side of things, you’ll gradually get well enough for us all to start the poetry club again. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“That’s right,” chimed in Xiangyun. “That would be fun.”
“You want me to cheer up,” sobbed Daiyu. “But how can I? I shan’t live to see that day.”
“That’s taking too gloomy a view!” protested Tanchun. “Who doesn’t fall ill or have trouble from time to time? How can you think in that way? Now just have a good rest while we go to see the old lady. We’ll look in again by and by. If there’s anything you want, tell Zijuan to let me know.”
“Dear Cousin!” cried Daiyu, in tears. “When you see the old lady, please give her my respects and tell her I’m a bit poorly, but it’s nothing serious—she’s not to worry.”
“I know. You just have a good rest.”
When Tanchun had gone off with Xiangyun, Zijuan helped her young mistress to lie down again and stayed by her side while Xueyan saw to other things. Her heart ached but she dared not weep. Daiyu lay there awhile with closed eyes but could not sleep. Normally she found the Garden very quiet, but now lying in bed she was conscious of the soughing of the wind, the chirp of insects, the chirping of birds, and the sound of passing footsteps. She seemed to hear children, too, crying in the distance. Disturbed by these noises, she told Zijuan to let down her bed-curtains.
Presently Xueyan brought in a bowl of bird’s-nest soup which she passed to Zijuan.
“Will you have some soup, miss?” asked Zijuan outside the curtain.
When Daiyu assented faintly she gave the bowl back to Xueyan to hold while she helped the patient sit up. Having tested the temperature of the soup herself, still supporting Daiyu she raised the bowl to her mouth. Daiyu, her eyes half closed, took two or three sips, then shook her head and would not drink any more. Zijuan handed the bowl back to Xueyan and gently laid her young mistress down once more. After a little rest, feeling slightly better, Daiyu heard a low voice outside asking:
“Is Sister Zijuan at home?”
Xueyan hurried out and saw it was Xiren.
“Come in, sister,” she said softly.
“How is your young lady?”
As they started in Xueyan described what had happened just now and the night before.
“No wonder Cuilu just came to our place and said Miss Lin was ill!” exclaimed Xiren in dismay. “Master Bao was so alarmed, he told me to come and see how she is.”
While they were whispering, Zijuan lifted the portiere of the inner room and beckoned Xiren over.
“Is she asleep?” asked Xiren tiptoeing towards her.
Zijuan nodded. “Have you only just heard about it?”
Xiren inclined her head with a worried look. “How is this going to end? I was nearly scared to death too last night by the other!”
Zijuan asked what had happened.
“He was all right when he went to bed in the evening,” Xiren told her. “But in the middle of the night he suddenly yelled that he had a pain in his heart, and raved that someone seemed to have cut it out! He kept up this rumpus quite a time, not quieting down till after the last watch had sounded. Wouldn’t you call that frightening? Today he couldn’t go to school, and we’re sending for a doctor to prescribe medicine.”
Just then they heard Daiyu coughing behind her bed-curtains, and, Zijuan hurriedly took her the spittoon. Daiyu languidly opened her eyes. “Whom were you talking to?”
“Sister Xiren has come to see you, miss.”
By now Xiren had come over to her bed. Daiyu made Zijuan help her sit up, then indicating the edge of the bed invited Xiren to be seated. Perching sideways, Xiren urged her with a smile:
“You’d better lie down, miss.”
“I’m all right. Don’t be such alarmists. What was that you were saying just now about someone having a pain in the heart in the middle of the night?”
“Master Bao had a nightmare, nothing of consequence.” Daiyu was touched and at the same time distressed, knowing that Xiren had said this for fear she might be anxious. “Did you hear him talk in his sleep?”
“He didn’t say anything.” Daiyu nodded. After a while she sighed.
“Don’t tell Master Bao that I’m ill. It would make him waste time, and his father would be angry.”
“Yes, miss. You’d better rest now.”
Daiyu nodded and asked Zijuan to lower her to her pillow. Xiren stayed to say a few more encouraging words, then took her leave and went back to Happy Red Court where she simply told Baoyu, to his great relief, that Daiyu was a little unwell but not in any danger.
Tanchun and Xiangyun, leaving Bamboo Lodge, had set off to call on the Lady Dowager. On the way Tanchun warned her cousin:
“When you see the old lady, mind you don’t talk in that wild way you did just now!”
Xiangyun lowered her head. “I know. It’s because just now I was frightened out of my wits!”
When they arrived, Tanchun’s report that Daiyu was unwell worried the old lady.
“That precious pair are always falling ill,” she said. “Now that Daiyu’s growing up she should pay more attention to her health. I think the child broods too much.” When no one ventured to make any comment she ordered Yuanyang, “Go and tell them: After the doctor’s seen Baoyu tomorrow he must go to Miss Lin’s place too.”
Yuanyang assented and withdrew to pass on these instructions to serving-women, who went off to relay the message. Tanchun and Xia
ngyun took dinner with the old lady before going back to the Garden, where we will leave them.
The next day the doctor came. He diagnosed Baoyu’s upset as a slight one, a mild case of indigestion and a chill which sweating would put right. Lady Wang and Xifeng sent servants with his prescription to report this to the old lady, at the same time sending word to Bamboo Lodge that the doctor was on his way. Zijuan promptly tucked Daiyu’s quilt round her and put down the bed-curtains, while Xueyan hastily tidied up the room.
Soon Jia Lian arrived with the doctor.
“This gentleman often comes to our house,” he said, “so there’s no need for all the maids to hide.”
An old nurse raised the portiere, the doctor was invited in and they took seats. Then Jia Lian suggested that Zijuan should first describe her young lady’s symptoms.
“Wait a bit,” said Doctor Wang. “Suppose I first feel the pulse to make my own diagnosis. If these girls think it wrong or there’s something I’ve omitted, then they can let me know.”
Zijuan drew one of Daiyu’s hands out from the curtain, rested it on a cushion, and gently pulled her sleeve and bracelet up out of the way. Doctor Wang felt the pulse for some time, then that of the other wrist, after which he and Jia Lian withdrew to take seats in the outer room.
“All six pulses are tense,” he announced, “due to bottled up emotion.”
At this point Zijuan came out too and stood in the doorway, and Doctor Wang, addressing her, continued:
“I would expect this illness to give rise to constant dizzy spells, loss of appetite as well as frequent dreams; and no doubt she wakes several times in the night. She must be hypersensitive, taking offence at remarks which don’t even concern her. People not knowing the truth may think her cross-grained, when in fact it’s all due to this illness which has upset her liver and weakened her heart. Am I right?”
Zijuan nodded and said to Jia Lian, “The gentleman is absolutely right.”
“So that’s how it is,” said the doctor.
He got up and went with Jia Lian to the study to write out a prescription. The pages there had already prepared a sheet of pink stationery. After Doctor Wang had sipped some tea he took a brush and wrote:
The six pulses are tense and slow owing to pent-up grief. The feebleness of the left can pulse shows debility of the heart. The strength of the guan pulse shows an over-heated liver. When the liver humour cannot disperse, it is bound to invade the spleen, causing loss of appetite and inevitably affecting the lungs too. The humours, failing to turn into vital force, will congeal as phlegm and agitate the blood, so that naturally there will be coughing.
The treatment should calm the liver, protect the lungs and strengthen the heart and the spleen. But invigorants must not be rashly administered. I suggest starting off with thorowax boiled with turtleblood, followed with medicine to soothe and strengthen the lungs. This is my humble proposal for your wise consideration.
He then listed seven drugs and an adjuvant.
Jia Lian reading this asked, “When the blood is agitated, is it safe to use thorowax?”
Doctor Wang smiled.
“I see you know, sir, that thorowax is a stimulant, not to be used in cases of vomiting blood or nose-bleed; but actually, boiled with turtle-blood, this is the only drug which will stimulate the digestive system and release the humour from the gall. Instead of agitating the blood it can strengthen the liver and keep down hot humours. This is why the Yellow Emperor’s Manual of Medicine says, ‘Use stimulants for a haemorrhage, occludents for a blockage.’ This method is similar to ‘using Zhou Bo’s strength to stabilize the Liu’s dynasty’ —applying turtle-blood to mitigate the stimulating function of the thorowax.”
Jia Lian nodded. “So that’s how it is. Very well, then.”
“Let her take two doses first, after which we can add or cancel certain ingredients or perhaps try a different prescription. I still have a little business to attend to and mustn’t stay longer, sir. I shall come to pay my respects some other day.”
As Jia Lian saw him out he asked, “What about Cousin Bao’s prescription?”
“There’s nothing much wrong with Master Bao. I think another dose should set him right.”
The doctor mounted his carriage then and left.
Jia Lian, having ordered servants to get the medicine, had just gone back to tell Xifeng about Daiyu’s illness and the doctor’s prescription, when Zhou Rui’s wife arrived to report on some matters of no great consequence.
“Tell the mistress that,” he cut in halfway. “I’m busy.” With that he left.
“Just now I went to Miss Lin’s place,” said Zhou Rui’s wife after transacting her business. “She seems in a very bad way! Her face has no colour at all; she’s nothing but skin and bones. And when I asked how she felt, not a word did she say—simply cried. Later Zijuan told me, ‘Our young lady’s ill, yet when she needs something she won’t ask for it. So I mean to ask Madam Lian to advance us a couple of months’ allowance. Although we get issued medicine, we need some cash for incidental expenses.’ I promised to pass on this request to you.”
Xifeng lowered her head in thought.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said presently. “I’ll give her a few taels to use, and you needn’t let Miss Lin know. I can’t very well advance the monthly allowance. If once the precedent was set and everyone else followed suit, what should we do? Remember how Concubine Zhao quarrelled with Miss Tanchun—all because of the monthly allowance? Besides, as you know, our outlay exceeds our income these days and we’ve never got around this. Those not in the know think me a bad manager. Some gossips even accuse me of spiriting stuff away to my own family. But you as a stewardess, Mrs. Zhou, must naturally know better.”
“The injustice of it!” exclaimed Mrs. Zhou. “A big household like this can only be run by someone with your forethought, madam. No ordinary woman could manage it; no, not even a man with three heads and six arms! Yet people still talk such rubbish.” She suddenly laughed. “You haven’t heard the even more stupid things they say outside, madam. The other day when Zhou Rui came home, he told me outsiders imagine we’re made of money. They talk of the Jia family having so many storerooms for gold, so many for silver, and of using nothing but golden utensils studded with gems!
“Some say, ‘When their daughter became an Imperial Consort, naturally the Emperor would give half his things to her family. That time Her Highness paid a visit home, we saw with our own eyes the cartloads of gold and silver that she brought, which is why the house is fitted out like the crystal palace of the Dragon King. And that day they went to give offerings in the temple, they spent tens of thousands of taels, but to them that’s just one hair from the hide of an ox.’
“Other people say, ‘The lions outside their gate must be made of jade. In their Garden they had two gold unicorns, but one got stolen so now there’s only one left. Not to say the mistresses of the house, even the maids have nothing to do except drink, play chess, strum the lyre or paint—they have attendants to wait on them anyway. The silks and gauzes they wear, all their food and ornaments too, are things that common folk never even heard of. As for the young masters and mistresses, of course it goes without saying that if they want the moon from the sky someone will pluck it down for them to play with!’
“Then, madam, there’s a song:
The House of Ning, the House of Rong,
Treat silver and gold as clay;
No end to their victuals and clothing,
But at last....”
She broke off here because the final line ran:
But at last all will vanish away.
Mrs. Zhou had been rattling on, only pulling up short when she suddenly remembered how ominous this sounded. And Xifeng, guessing this, did not press her to finish.
“Well, never mind that,” she said. “But where did they get that story about the gold unicorn?”
“That was the small gold unicorn presented to Master Bao by the old Taoist priest of th
at temple.” Mrs. Zhou smiled. “Later it was lost for a few days, but Miss Shi found it and returned it to him. Then they made up this story outside. Ridiculous, isn’t it, madam?”
“Not ridiculous, actually, but rather alarming! Things are getting harder for us every day, and yet we still keep up such an outward show. ‘Bad for a man to be famed, bad for a pig to grow fat,’ the proverb says. Especially as with us this is empty fame. Goodness knows what the end will be.”
“You have reason to worry, madam. Still, for years now that has been the talk of the town in teashops, taverns and every least little alley. And how can you stop people talking?”
Xifeng nodded, then asked Pinger to weigh out a few ounces of silver for Mrs. Zhou.
“Take this to Zijuan,” she instructed her. “Just tell her I’m giving her this for sundries, and she mustn’t hesitate to ask for things that are their due, but let’s have no more talk of advancing the monthly allowance. She’s quite clever enough to catch on. When I’ve time, I shall call to see Miss Lin.”
Mrs. Zhou, assenting, took the silver and left. No more of this.
Now as Jia Lian was on his way out a page had approached and reported, “The Elder Master wants you, sir.”
He hurried over and Jia She informed him, “We’ve just had word that an Imperial Physician and two assistants were summoned to the Palace to attend a patient—it can hardly be one of the maids-of-honour or attendants. Has there been any news from the Imperial Consort’s palace these last few days?”
“None, sir.”
“Go and ask the Second Master and your brother Jia Zhen, or send to find out from the Academy of Imperial Physicians.”
Accordingly, Jia Lian dispatched a man to the Academy of Imperial Physicians, then went over to see Jia Zheng.
“Where did you hear that?” asked Jia Zheng when he had explained his errand.
“From the Elder Master just now.”
“You and your brother Zhen had better go to the Palace to find out.”
“I’ve already sent to the Academy of Imperial Physicians.