by Cao Xueqin
“If your mother sees it,” the old lady said, “She’ll tell your father and he’ll say that I love my grandson more than my son! They’ve never even seen this.”
Baoyu went off cheerfully, leaving Baochai and the others to talk a little longer before taking their leave.
After this the Lady Dowager fasted for two days, yet the congestion of her chest persisted and she had dizzy spells and fits of coughing. When Lady Xing, Lady Wang and Xifeng came to pay their respects and saw that she looked quite cheerful, they simply sent to notify Jia Zheng, who immediately came over. On leaving, he sent for a doctor to examine her. Before long the doctor arrived and felt her pulses. He diagnosed that the old lady had caught a chill as a result of not eating regularly, but some medicine to help the digestion and expel the cold would cure her. He wrote out a prescription. Jia Zheng, noting that the ingredients were ordinary medicines, told servants to prepare this for his mother. He himself came each morning and evening to inquire after her health. When three days had passed and there was no improvement, he told Jia Lian to make haste to find some better doctor.
“I don’t think those doctors we usually have are much good,” he explained. “That’s why I want you to find one to diagnose her illness correctly.”
Jia Lian reflected and said, “I remember that year when Cousin Bao fell ill, we got a man who wasn’t a professional to cure him. We’d better call him in again.”
“Medicine is abstruse, and the least celebrated physicians are often the best,” Jia Zheng agreed. “Send to ask him over.”
Jia Lian assented and left, returning to report, “That Doctor Liu has recently left town to teach. He only comes back every ten days or so. As we can’t wait, I’ve invited another man who should be here presently.” Then they had to wait.
All the ladies of the house called daily to ask after the old lady’s illness. They were all assembled there one day when in came the old woman in charge of the Garden’s side-gate.
She announced, “Sister Miaoyu of Green Lattice Nunnery has heard of the old lady’s illness and come to pay her respects.”
“She’s a rare visitor,” they said. “Since she’s called today, hurry up and show her in.”
Xifeng went to the old lady’s bedside to tell her this, while Xiuyan —Miaoyu’s old friend—went out to meet her. Miaoyu was wearing a nun’s cap, a pale grey plain silk tunic under a long, sleeveless checked jacket with dark silk borders, a yellow silk sash and a white skirt with dark designs. Holding a whisk and her beads she swept gracefully in, attended by a maid.
Having greeted her Xiuyan said, “When I stayed in the Garden I could often drop in to see you; but now that it’s so deserted I don’t like to go in on my own, and the side-gate is usually closed, so I haven’t seen you for ages. I’m so glad you’ve come!”
“You were all of you so lively in the old days that even when you were living in the Garden I didn’t feel it appropriate to call too often,” Miaoyu replied. “Now I know their family isn’t doing too well and I hear the old lady is ill; so I’ve been thinking of you and would like to see Baochai too. What do I care whether you lock the gate or not? I come and go as I please. If I didn’t want to come, you couldn’t get me here even by invitation.”
“I see you haven’t changed in the least,” Xiuyan chuckled.
Chatting together they entered the old lady’s room. When the others had greeted Miaoyu, she approached the old lady’s bed to ask after her health and exchange civilities.
“Can you, who are saintly, tell me whether I shall get over this illness or not?” asked the Lady Dowager.
“A kindly old lady like you is bound to live to a great age,” Miaoyu assured her. “You’ve just caught cold, and a few doses of medicine should set you right. Old people shouldn’t worry.”
“I’m not the worrying sort,” replied the old lady. “I always try to have fun. And I’m not feeling too bad, simply rather bloated. Just now the doctor said it’s because I was vexed, but you know very well that nobody here would dare vex me. He can’t be much good at diagnosis, can he? As I told Lian, the first doctor was right when he diagnosed a chill and indigestion. Tomorrow we’re going to ask him over again.” She told Yuanyang to order the kitchen to prepare Miaoyu some vegetarian dishes.
“I’ve had my lunch,” said the nun. “I won’t eat anything, thank you.”
“That’s all right,” said Lady Wang. “But stay a little longer to chat.”
“Yes, I haven’t seen you all for so long, today I had to come.”
They talked for a while until Miaoyu rose to leave. Turning round she saw Xichun standing there and asked, “Why are you so thin, Fourth Sister? Don’t let your fondness for painting wear you out!”
“I haven’t painted for ages,” Xichun told her. “I don’t feel like it because my present rooms aren’t as light as those in the Garden.”
“Where are you living?”
“In that house east of the gate you came through. It’s very close if you care to drop in.”
“I’ll call when I’m in the mood,” Miaoyu promised her.
Then Xichun and the others saw her out. On their return, hearing that the doctor had arrived they dispersed.
The Lady Dowager’s illness grew daily worse, no medicine proving effective, and later she developed diarrhea too. Worried because she was not likely to recover, Jia Zheng sent to ask leave from his yamen and he and his wife attended her day and night. One day she took some nourishment, and they were feeling relieved when they saw an old woman peeping through the door. Caiyun, told by Lady Wang to see who she was, recognized her as one of the serving-women who had accompanied Yingchun to the Sun family.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“I’ve been waiting outside for some time but couldn’t find a soul, and I dared not burst in—I was frantic!”
“Why, what’s wrong? Has Mr. Sun been bullying your young lady again?”
“My young lady’s dying! The day before yesterday they had a row and she cried all night long. Yesterday she was choking, her throat blocked up with phlegm, yet they wouldn’t get a doctor. Today she’s worse!”
“The old lady’s ill; don’t kick up such a shindy.”
Lady Wang inside had heard their conversation. Fearing that the old lady would be upset if she knew this, she ordered Caiyun to take the woman away. But the Lady Dowager lying there quietly had overheard them too.
“Is Yingchun dying?” she asked.
“No, madam,” said Lady Wang. “These women are all alarmists. She says Yingchun hasn’t been well the last couple of days and may take some time to recover. They want us to get her a doctor.”
“My doctor’s a good one. Have him fetched at once.”
Lady Wang told Caiyun to send the woman to report this to Lady Xing.
When the woman had left, the old lady lamented, “Of my three granddaughters, one died after enjoying great good fortune; the third has married so far from home that I shan’t be able to see her again; Yingchun had a hard time but I thought she might pull through, never dreaming she’d die so young! What is there for an old woman like me to live for?”
Lady Wang, Yuanyang and the rest consoled her at length. Baochai and Li Wan were absent at the time and Xifeng had recently fallen ill again. Now Lady Wang sent for them to keep the old lady company, for fear lest grief should aggravate her illness. Returning then to her own quarters, she sent for Caiyun.
“What a fool that woman is!” she scolded. “In future when I’m with the old lady and you have something to report, it can wait.” The maids agreed to this.
Just as the serving-woman reached Lady Xing’s apartments, word came that Yingchun was dead. Her mother wept. In Jia She’s absence, she had to send Jia Lian to the Sun family to find out the situation. Since the old lady was so ill, nobody dared tell her the news. Alas, that this girl fair as a flower or the moon should be hounded to death by the Sun family after little more than a year of marriage! As the old lady was at
death’s door the others could not leave her, but had to let the Sun family arrange the funeral in perfunctory fashion.
The Lady Dowager, failing from day to day, longed to see her granddaughters and nieces. Her thoughts turned to Xiangyun and she sent to fetch her. The servant on her return slipped in to find Yuanyang, but could not enter the old lady’s room where Yuanyang happened to be with Lady Wang and others. Instead she went to the back where she found Hupo.
“The old lady wanted to see Miss Shi and sent us to ask her to come,” she told her. “But we found her crying her heart out, because her husband’s desperately ill, and the doctors say he’s not likely to recover unless it turns into consumption—in which case he may drag on for another four or five years. So Miss Shi is frantic. She knows the old lady is ill, but she can’t come. She told me, too, not to mention this to her grand-aunt. If the old lady asks, she hopes you’ll make up some excuse for her.” Hupo exclaimed in dismay but did not answer. After some time she told the other to go. Not liking to report this, she decided to tell Yuanyang and ask her to make up some story. She went to the old lady’s bedside then and found her in a critical condition. As there were many people standing round murmuring that it seemed there was no hope, Hupo had to hold her tongue.
Jia Zheng quietly drew Jia Lian aside and whispered some instructions to which he assented softly. He then went out to summon all the stewards at home.
“The old lady’s sinking fast,” he said. “You’re to send at once to make the necessary preparations. First, get out the coffin and have it lined. Then get the measurements of the whole household and order tailors to make mourning for them. The funeral retinue must be arranged too, and more hands will be needed to help in the kitchen.”
Lai Da told him, “You needn’t worry, Second Master. We’ve got it all figured out. But where is the money to come from?”
“You needn’t raise money outside,” replied Jia Lian. “The old lady has kept a sum in readiness. Just now the master told me that it must be handsomely done—we want a good show.”
The stewards assented and went off to see to these matters while he returned to his own quarters.
“How is your mistress today?” he asked Pinger.
Pinger pouted towards the inner room. “Go in and see her.”
He did so and found Xifeng, exhausted by dressing, leaning against the small table on the kang.
“I’m afraid you can’t rest now,” he told her. “The old lady will be gone by tomorrow at the latest, so you can’t keep out of it. Hurry up and get somebody to clear up here, then make the effort to go over there. If it comes to the worst, we shan’t be able to come back today.”
“What is there here to clear up?” retorted Xifeng. “We’ve only these few things left, so what does it matter? You go first; the master may want you. I’ll come when I’ve changed my clothes.”
Jia Lian went ahead to the old lady’s place and whispered to Jia Zheng that all the preparations had been made. Jia Zheng nodded. Then the doctor was announced. Jia Lian invited him in to feel the old lady’s pulse. After some time he withdrew and quietly told Jia Lian, “The old lady’s pulse is very weak. Be prepared....”
Jia Lian understood and told Lady Wang, who signalled to Yuanyang and, when she came over, sent her off to make ready the garments in which to lay out the old lady. At this point the Lady Dowager opened her eyes and asked for some tea. Lady Xing gave her a cup of ginseng broth but after tasting it she said:
“Not this. Give me a cup of tea.”
Forced to humour her, they brought it immediately. She took two sips, then said, “I want to sit up.”
“If you want something, madam, just tell us,” urged Jia Zheng. “There is no need to sit up.”
“After a little drink I feel better,” she answered. “Prop me up on the pillow so that I can talk to you.”
Zhenzhu gently propped her up, and they saw that she did look better.
To know whether she lived or died, read the next chapter.
Chapter 110
The Lady Dowager Passes Away Peacefully
Xifeng Is Powerless and Loses Support
Sitting up the old lady said, “I’ve lived in your family sixty years and more, from girlhood to old age, and had more than my share of good fortune. Reckoning from your father down, all my sons and grandsons are good. But Baoyu whom I’ve been so fond of...” She broke off here and looked round. Lady Wang pushed Baoyu to her bedside and the old lady reaching out one hand from the quilt took his hand.
“You must make good, child!” she exhorted him.
“Yes, madam.” He felt a pang but dared not cry, simply standing there while his grandmother continued, “I shall be content if I can see another great-grandson born. Where is my Lan?”
As Li Wan pushed him forward, the old lady let go of Baoyu and took Lan’s hand.
“You must be a dutiful son,” she said. “Make your mother feel proud of you when you grow up! Where is Xifeng?”
Xifeng, standing near the bed, stepped forward saying, “Here I am.”
“You’re too clever, child; you must do more good works. I haven’t done many myself, simply letting others take advantage of me. I never went in much for fasting or chanting Buddhist scriptures, except that year when I had all those copies of the Diamond Sutra made. Have they all been distributed?”
“Not yet,” was Xifeng’s reply.
“Then hurry up and have them all given away. Our Elder Master and Zhen are enjoying themselves outside, but the most heartless one of all is that little wretch Xiangyun who still hasn’t come to see me!”
Yuanyang and those who knew the reason said nothing. Next the old lady looked at Baochai and sighed. Her face was flushed now, a sign as Jia Zheng knew that the end was near. He offered her some ginseng broth, but already her jaws were locked and her eyes closed. She opened them, however, for a last look round the room. Lady Wang and Baochai stepped forward and gently propped her up, while Lady Xing and Xifeng changed her clothes. Meanwhile serving-women had prepared the bier and spread bedding over it. Now they heard a rattling in her throat, and a smile overspread her face as she breathed her last—at the age of eighty-three. The women hastily laid her on the bier.
Jia Zheng and the other men knelt down in the outer room, Lady Xing and the other ladies inside, and together they lamented. The stewards’ preparations outside were complete. As soon as they heard the news, all the gates of the Rong Mansion were thrown wide open and pasted with white paper. Funeral sheds were erected as well as an archway in front of the main gate. The family and the domestics lost no time in putting on mourning.
Jia Zheng reported his mother’s death, and the Ministry of Rites petitioned the Emperor for leave for him. The Most High in deep compassion, in view of the Jia family’s past achievements and the fact that the old lady was the Imperial Consort’s grandmother, bestowed on Jia Zheng one thousand taels of silver and ordered the Ministry of Rites to take charge of the sacrifice. The stewards spread word of the old lady’s death and, though the Jia family had declined, when their relatives and friends saw the favour shown them by the Emperor they all came to offer their condolences. An auspicious day was chosen for coffining the dead and the coffin was deposited in the hall.
In the absence of Jia She, Jia Zheng was the head of the house. Baoyu, Jia Huan and Jia Lan, as young descendants, had to keep watch by the coffin. Jia Lian, though a grandson too, undertook with Jia Rong’s assistance to assign the menservants’ tasks. Certain kinsmen were also
invited to help out.
As for the ladies, Lady Xing, Lady Wang, Li Wan, Xifeng and Baochai were to lament by the coffin. Madam You should by rights have helped organize the household, as since Jia Zhen’s departure she had been staying in the Rong Mansion; but she had never shown any initiative and had little knowledge of its management. Jia Rong’s wife, it goes without saying, was even less competent while young Xichun although she had grown up in the Rong Mansion knew nothing about its domestic affairs.
So none of these could take charge.
Xifeng was the only one capable of undertaking the task, and indeed with Jia Lian in charge outside it seemed appropriate to have her helping him inside. Emboldened by her previous experience of superintending Qin Keqing’s funeral, she was confident that here was another chance to display her ability; and Their Ladyships both thought her the best choice. When, therefore, she was asked to superintend, she accepted readily.
“I ran this household before and the staff here obey me,” she thought. “The servants of Lady Xing and Madam You used to be troublesome, but now they’ve gone. Though we haven’t used a tally to get money from the treasury, we have ready cash in hand for this purpose which is even better; and my husband is in charge of affairs outside. So even if my health isn’t what it was, I don’t think I’ll fall down on the job as it’s bound to be simpler than that time in the Ning Mansion.”
She decided to wait another day till the first three days had passed, then assign the servants tasks first thing in the morning. She told Zhou Rui’s wife to announce this to the staff and to bring her the register. Looking through this she found twenty one men-servants in all and only nineteen women, not counting the maids in the various apartments. As this made a total of barely forty people, they were going to be short-handed. “We’ve fewer hands now for the old lady’s funeral than that time in the East Mansion,” she reflected. Even if she transferred a few servants from their farm, they still would not have enough.
As she was mulling this over a young maid came to report, “Sister Yuanyang would like you to go over, madam.”
Xifeng went and found Yuanyang weeping bitterly. She caught hold of Xifeng and cried, “Please sit down, madam, and let me kowtow to you. Mourners can dispense with ceremony, they say, but I must kowtow to you now!” She fell on her knees.
Xifeng hastily stopped her. “What does this mean? Just tell me what you want,” she said, pulling her up.
“All the arrangements, inside and outside, for the old lady’s funeral are being made by Master Lian and you, madam. The silver for this was put aside by the old lady, who never squandered money in her whole life; so now I beg you, madam, to give her a fine, handsome send-off. Just now I heard the master quote a classical tag—I didn’t understand it—something like in mourning, grief counts for more than appearances.’ I asked Madam Bao, who told me he meant that the most filial way to mourn the old lady is to show our grief, instead of wasting money to make a good show. But it seems to me that surely things should be done more impressively for someone like the old lady. I’m only a slave, though, so what can I say? But the old lady was so good to us both, won’t you do the thing handsomely? I know you’re an able organizer, madam; that’s why I asked you here to decide. I’ve served the old lady all my life, and now that she’s dead I mean to follow her still. If I don’t see her given a good funeral, how shall I be able to face her?”