A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  Hongyu accepted them with a smile but said, “Why should I want these things of yours? What is this anyway?” She blushed crimson again.

  “It’s the thought that counts,” he chuckled. “Besides, these aren’t worth much.”

  They had now reached the compound gate, and Jia Yun tucked the rest of the embroidery inside his jacket while Hongyu urged him to leave.

  “If there’s anything you want, just come and ask me,” she said. “Now that I’m working here it’s easy to find me.”

  Jia Yun nodded. “It’s too bad your mistress is such a martinet that I can’t call too often. Anyway you must understand what I meant just now. I’ve something more to tell you when I have the chance.”

  Blushing all over her face she answered, “Go now. You must call more often in future. You shouldn’t have kept at such a distance from her.”

  “Right.”

  Then Jia Yun left the compound. Hongyu stood at the gate watching till he was out of sight before finally turning back.

  Xifeng in her room now ordered dinner and asked the maids if they had prepared any congee. Some went to ask, returning with the answer, “Yes, we have.”

  “Get a couple of southern dishes preserved in liquor.”

  “Very good, madam,” said Qiutong, and sent some young maids for these.

  Pinger now stepped forward and said, “It had slipped my mind, but at noon today while you were with the old lady, the abbess of Water Moon Convent sent a nun to ask for two jars of southern pickles, madam. She wants a few months’ allowance advanced too, because she isn’t well. I asked the nun what was wrong, and she said the abbess has been unwell for four or five days. The other night some acolytes and novices refused to blow out the light when they went to bed. She scolded them several times, but they paid no attention. When she saw that the lamp was still burning after midnight, she told them to blow it out; but as they were all asleep no one answered, so she had to get up herself to put it out. When she went back to her room, she saw a man and a woman sitting on the kang. And when she asked who they were, they fastened a rope round her neck! She screamed for help. That roused the others who lit lamps and hurried over. They found her lying on the ground, foaming at the mouth. Luckily they managed to bring her round. But she still has no appetite; that’s why she asked for the pickles. As I couldn’t give her any in your absence, I told the nun you were busy with the old lady and I would tell you after you came back. Then I sent her away. Just now that talk about preserves from the south reminded me; otherwise I’d have forgotten.”

  Xifeng digested this in silence.

  “We still have some of those preserves from the south, don’t we?” she said. “Send her some. As for the money, tell Master Qin to come in a day or so to take it.

  Then Hongyu came and reported, “Just now Master Lian sent a messenger to let you know that he has business to see to outside town and won’t be back tonight.”

  “Very well,” said Xifeng.

  Just then they heard a young maid screaming at the back and come panting to the courtyard. Pinger, going out to investigate, found several maids chattering there.

  “What’s all the excitement?” Xifeng called out.

  Pinger, returning, told her, “One girl who’s scary was talking about ghosts.”

  “Which one?”

  The girl came in and was asked, “What’s this about ghosts?”

  “I went just now to the back to get a servant to put more coal on the stove, and I heard a scuffling in those three empty rooms. First I thought it was a cat chasing rats, but then I heard a sound like someone sighing. I got scared and ran back.”

  “Nonsense!” Xifeng scolded. “We don’t allow talk about ghosts and spirits here. I never believe such tales. Hurry up and get out!”

  At once the young maid withdrew.

  Next Xifeng made Caiming check their account for that day. By the time this was done it was nearly the second watch and after sitting up for a while to chat she sent them all to bed, then retired herself.

  Towards midnight, sleeping fitfully, Xifeng found herself shivering and woke with a start. Her trepidation growing as she lay there, she surprised Pinger and Qiutong by calling them over to keep her company. Qiutong had formerly often defied Xifeng, but she had become more obedient after Jia Lian began to slight her owing to her treatment of Second Sister You, and Xifeng had done her best to win her over. Still, she lacked Pinger’s devotion to their mistress, making only a show of complaisance. Now that Xifeng was unwell, she brought her some tea.

  “Thank you.” Xifeng took a sip. “Go back to bed now. It’s enough if just Pinger stays here.”

  To please her, however, Qiutong said, “If you can’t sleep, madam, we can take it in turns to sit with you.”

  Xifeng talked with them for a while, then dozed off. By the time she was sound asleep they heard cocks crowing in the distance; so they lay down fully dressed till dawn, when they got up to help her with her toilet.

  Xifeng was on edge and upset after her bad night, but not wanting to show this she forced herself to get up. She was sitting there listlessly when she heard a maid in the courtyard asking for Pinger.

  “I’m in here,” Pinger called.

  The girl lifted the portiere and came in, having been sent by Lady Wang to find Jia Lian.

  She reported, “Someone outside has come on urgent official business. As the master has just gone out, Her Ladyship wants Master Lian to go over at once.”

  Xifeng was startled by this. To know what this business was, you must read the next chapter.

  Chapter 89

  A Memento of a Dead Maid Leads Baoyu to Write a Poem

  A False Suspicion Makes Daiyu Abstain from Food

  Xifeng, in low spirits that morning, was shocked by the young maid’s announcement.

  “Official business!” she exclaimed, “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am. Just now a page from the inner gate reported that urgent business has come up at His Lordship’s ministry, so Her Ladyship sent me to ask Master Lian to go over.”

  Relieved to know that the matter concerned the Ministry of Works, Xifeng told her, “Go and tell Her Ladyship that Master Lian left town on business last night, and hasn’t yet returned. But first send someone to let Master Zhen know.”

  The maid assented and left.

  Before long, Jia Zhen came over to question the messenger from the ministry. Then he went in to inform Lady Wang, “Word has come from the Ministry of Works that yesterday they heard from the Yellow River Commission that the dyke in Henan has been breached, flooding several prefectures and districts. State funds have been allocated for repair work, and this will be keeping the whole ministry busy. So they sent specially to report this to His Lordship.” This said he withdrew, and on Jia Zheng’s return relayed this message to him.

  From then on right up till winter, as Jia Zheng was busy every day and constantly in his yamen, Baoyu grew more slack in his studies, although for fear of his father he still attended school. He dared not call on Daiyu too often either.

  One morning in the middle of the tenth month, a sudden drop in the temperature made Xiren prepare a bundle of warm clothes for him before he set off to school.

  “It’s so cold today,” she said, “you must dress more warmly first thing and in the evening.

  She took out a coat for him to wear, and wrapped up a cape for a young maid to give Beiming with the message, “Now that it’s cold, you must keep this ready for Master Bao.”

  The page assented, took the bundle, and followed Baoyu to school. Baoyu was doing his lessons when a wind sprang up, buffeting the window paper.

  “The weather is changing,” remarked Dairu and, opening the window, he saw that tiers of black clouds in the northwest were bearing slowly southeast.

  Beiming now came in. “Master Bao, it’s getting colder; better put on more clothes,” he advised.

  When Baoyu nodded, Beiming brought in a cape. At sight of it Baoyu became lost
in thought. All the other boys stared at it too. For it was the peacock-feather cape which Qingwen had mended.

  “Why bring this?” demanded Baoyu. “Who gave it to you?”

  “The girls in your place brought it out in a wrapper,” said Beiming.

  “I’m not too cold; I won’t wear it. Wrap it up.”

  Dairu imagined that Baoyu thought the cape too good to wear, and was pleased by this evidence of frugality.

  But Beiming urged, “Do put it on, Master Bao. If you catch cold, I’ll be the one who’s blamed. Please wear it for my sake!”

  Baoyu had to comply then. He sat staring at his book in a dazed fashion; but the tutor paid no attention, thinking he was studying.

  That evening, when the class was dismissed, Baoyu asked for a day’s sick leave. And as old Dairu simply coached these boys to while away the time when he himself was not ailing, as often happened, he was glad to have one less to worry about the next day. Knowing, moreover, that Jia Zheng was busy and that Baoyu’s grandmother doted on the boy, he nodded his consent.

  Baoyu on his return reported this to his grandmother and mother, who naturally believed him. After sitting there for a while he went back to the Garden to join Xiren and the others. He was not his usual cheerful and talkative self, however, for he lay down, still wearing the cape, on the kang.

  “Supper’s ready,” Xiren announced. “Would you like it now, or a bit later?”

  “I don’t want any, I’m not feeling well,” he answered. “You go ahead and have yours.”

  “In that case, you’d better take your cape off. You’ll spoil it if you crumple it like that.”

  “Never mind.”

  “It’s not just that it’s flimsy, but look at that stitching on it— you shouldn’t spoil it.”

  Touched to the quick by this he sighed, “All right then, wrap it up carefully for me and put it away. I’ll never wear it again!”

  He stood up to take off the cape and folded it up himself before Xiren could take it.

  “Well, Master Bao!” she exclaimed. “Why are you putting yourself out like this today?”

  Instead of answering he asked, “Where is the wrapper?”

  Sheyue quickly passed it to him and while he wrapped the cape up turned to wink at Xiren.

  Baoyu sat down by himself then, in low spirits, ignoring them. When the clock on the shelf struck, he looked down at his watch and saw it was half past five. By and by a young maid came in to light the lamp.

  “If you don’t want supper,” said Xiren, “at least have half a bowl of hot congee. If you go without food that may arouse hot humours; then we shall have more trouble.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not hungry. If I force myself to eat, I shall feel worse.”

  “Then you’d better go to bed early.”

  She and Sheyue prepared the bed, and Baoyu lay down. He tossed and turned but could not sleep, only dozing off when it was nearly dawn. But after no more than the time it takes for a meal, he was awake again.

  By now Xiren and Sheyue were up.

  Xiren said, “I heard you tossing about last night till the fifth watch, but I didn’t like to disturb you. And then I dropped off myself. Did you get any sleep or not?”

  “A little, but then somehow I woke up again.”

  “Aren’t you feeling well?”

  “I’m all right, just rather edgy.”

  “Are you going to school today?”

  “No, yesterday I asked for a day’s leave. I’d like to amuse myself in the Garden today, but just now I feel cold. Get them to clean up a room for me, and put ready some incense, paper, ink and a brush; then you can get on with your work while I sit there quietly for a bit. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  “If you want to study quietly,” Sheyue said, “who’d dream of disturbing you?”

  “That’s a good idea,” agreed Xiren. “You won’t catch cold, and sitting quietly by yourself you won’t be distracted either. But what will you eat today, if you’ve lost your appetite? Let us know in good time so that we can tell the kitchen.”

  “Anything will do; don’t fuss. But I’d like some fruit put in that room to scent it.”

  “Which room would be best?” Xiren wondered. “The only clean one, really, is Qingwen’s old room. As no one goes there nowadays, it’s quite tidy. Only it may be chilly.”

  “That’s all right,” he said. “Just put a brazier in there.”

  She readily agreed to this.

  While they were talking a young maid had brought in a saucer, bowl and pair of chopsticks, which she handed to Sheyue saying:

  “Just now Miss Xiren asked for these, and the old woman from the kitchen has brought them.”

  Sheyue saw that it was a bowl of bird’s-nest soup.

  “Did you order this?” she asked Xiren.

  “He had no supper yesterday evening and passed a sleepless night,” Xiren explained. “I thought he must be feeling hollow inside this morning; so I got the girls to ask the kitchen for this.”

  She told the younger maids to bring a table, and Sheyue waited on Baoyu while he finished the soup and rinsed his mouth. Then Qiuwen came in.

  “The room’s been tidied,” she said. “But Master Bao had better wait till the charcoal is red before going there.”

  Baoyu nodded, too preoccupied by his own thoughts to talk. Soon a young maid came to announce, “The writing things have been put ready.”

  “Good,” he said.

  Yet another girl announced, “Breakfast is ready. Where will you have it, sir?”

  “Just bring it here; that’s simplest.”

  She assented and went out to fetch the food.

  Baoyu remarked with a smile to Xiren and Sheyue, “I’m feeling so depressed, I doubt if I can eat anything alone. Why don’t you have breakfast with me? If I see you enjoying it, I may eat more.”

  “You may like the idea, Master Bao,” chuckled Sheyue. “But that would never do!”

  “Actually it doesn’t matter,” countered Xiren. “We’ve drunk together more than once before. But we can only do this occasionally to cheer you up, young master. If it wasn’t in fun, that would be against all the rules of propriety!”

  So the three of them sat down, Baoyu in the top place, the two girls on either side. After they had finished the meal, a young maid brought them tea to rinse their mouths and they had the table removed.

  Baoyu holding his cup sat silent, lost in thought.

  “Is that room ready?” he asked presently.

  “We told you it was,” said Sheyue. “Why ask again?”

  After a while he went to Qingwen’s old room, lit a stick of incense and set out some fruit. Then he sent the others away and closed the door. Xiren and the other girls outside took care to keep very quiet.

  Baoyu chose a sheet of pink paper with a gilded border and floral designs on one of the top and bottom comers.

  After a short invocation he picked up his brush and wrote:

  The Master of Happy Red Court burns incense to Sister Qingwen, and presents tea with a sweet fragrance. Pray come to the sacrifice!

  He then penned the verse:

  My close companion, you alone

  My inmost thoughts could share;

  A sudden storm out of the blue

  Cut short your life of care.

  Who is there now to speak so sweet and low?

  Streams flowing east can no more westward flow.

  I long for you, but have no herb

  To bring you back again.

  Glimpsing the cape—a turquoise cloud—

  Fills me with endless pain.

  This written, using the incense stick as a taper, he burned his poem to ashes, then sat quietly till the incense was burnt up, whereupon he left the room.

  “Why are you coming out?” Xiren asked. “Were you feeling bored again?”

  “I was in the dumps and wanted a quiet place where I could sit for a bit,” he prevaricated, smiling. “Now that I’ve got over it, I’m
going to have a stroll outside.”

  He went out, making straight for Bamboo Lodge, and on reaching the courtyard called, “Is Cousin Lin in?”

  “Who is it?” asked Zijuan, raising the portiere. “Oh, Master Bao. She’s in her room. Please come in.”

  As Baoyu followed her in, Daiyu called from the inner room, “Zijuan, bring Master Bao in here.”

  Flanking the door of her room, Baoyu saw a newly written couplet on purple paper with gilded cloud-dragon designs. It read:

  Green casement and bright moon remain,

  But the men of old annals are gone.

  He smiled and walked in, asking, “What are you doing, cousin?”

  She rose to meet him and said with a smile, “Sit down. I’m copying a sutra, and have only two lines left. Let me finish it and then we can talk.” She told Xueyan to bring tea.

  “Don’t trouble,” said Baoyu. “Just go on with your copying.”

  He noticed in the middle of the wall a scroll painting of the Moon Goddess Change and another goddess, each with an attendant, the second one carrying what looked like a long clothing bag. There were only a few clouds surrounding them, with no other decorations. It was done in the style of Li Longmian’s outline drawings. The inscription “Contending in the Cold” was written in the old official script.

  “Have you just put this painting up, cousin?” he asked.

  “That’s right,” said Daiyu. “Yesterday when they were tidying up, I thought of it and took it out for them to hang.”

  “What’s its story?”

  “Surely everybody knows it,” she said with a smile, “Why ask?”

  “I can’t for the moment remember. Do tell me, cousin.”

  “You must know the lines:

  The Green Nymph and Change, both able to stand cold,

  Are vying in beauty in the frosty moon.”

  “Of course!” he exclaimed. “How original and cultured! And this is the right season, too, to hang this up.”

  He strolled around looking at this and that till Xueyan brought him some tea. And soon Daiyu, her copying finished, stood up.