A Dream of Red Mansion

by Cao Xueqin

  Baoyu, seeing this, grieved for her too but was in no position to comfort her. He noticed that in her white mourning, her face bare of rouge and powder, she looked even lovelier than before her marriage. He turned then to eye Baoqin and the other girls in white and found them all very charming. Baochai, who was in deep mourning, had an air of greater distinction than in the coloured clothes she normally wore.

  Baoyu told himself, “The men of old said that of all flowers the plum-blossom ranks first. That must be not only because it’s the first to bloom, but because its pure white and its fine fragrance are matchless. If only Cousin Lin were here now, dressed like this, how beautiful she would be!” At this thought, he felt a pang and could not hold back his tears; and as they were mourning the Lady Dowager he did not restrain himself but

  sobbed aloud.

  The others were trying to make Xiangyun stop crying when Baoyu suddenly burst out sobbing too. They assumed that he was upset by the memory of the old lady’s kindness to him, little knowing that he and Xiangyun were weeping for different reasons. Their storm of grief brought tears to the eyes of all. It was Aunt Xue and Aunt Li who finally stopped them.

  The next day, the day of the wake, was still more strenuous. Xifeng felt too exhausted to bear up, yet she had no choice but to exert herself until she was hoarse from shouting. That morning she managed to cope. By the afternoon, however, more relatives and friends arrived, entailing even more work, and she could not see to everything at once. She was frantic when a young maid ran up to her.

  “So here you are, madam!” she cried. “No wonder our Elder Mistress says, ‘There are too many visitors for me to look after, but Madam Lian has sneaked off to take it easy.’“

  At this, Xifeng thought she would burst with anger. She held back her rage, but tears welled up in her eyes, everything turned dark and she tasted something sweet. Then red blood spurted from her mouth, her knees buckled and she collapsed. Pinger ran to support her as she went on vomiting whole mouthfuls of blood. To know what became of her, read the following chapter.

  Chapter 111

  Yuanyang Dies for Her Mistress and Ascends to the Great Void

  A Despicable Slave Leads Robbers into the Mansion

  The young maid’s taunt so enraged and wounded Xifeng that she vomited blood and fainted. Pinger held her up and called for help to carry her back to her room, where they laid her gently on her bed and ordered Hongyu to give her a drink of warm water. After one sip, however, Xifeng relapsed into unconsciousness. Qiutong came over to glance at her then went off, and Pinger did not call her back. Instead she told Fenger who was standing near by to take word of this at once to Their Ladyships.

  When Fenger explained Xifeng’s inability to entertain the guests, Lady Xing suspected her of shamming and shirking, but did not like to say this in the presence of so many relatives.

  She simply replied, “All right, let her take a rest.” And the others made no comment.

  That evening, naturally, they had a stream of visitors. It was lucky that certain close relatives helped entertain them, for some of the staff took advantage of Xifeng’s absence to play truant or slack and pandemonium reigned—it was most unseemly.

  After the second watch, when the guests living at a distance had left, they prepared to farewell the dead and the women behind the mourning curtain began to wail. Yuanyang wept so bitterly that she fainted away. They raised her up and massaged her till she came round.

  “The old lady was so good to me, I must follow her!” she cried.

  Thinking her beside herself with grief, the others paid no attention. When the ceremony started, there were over a hundred mourners high and low present, but Yuanyang had disappeared. In the general confusion her absence passed unnoticed until it was time for Hupo and the other maids to kowtow to the dead; however, supposing that Yuanyang worn out by weeping must be resting somewhere, they let it go at that.

  The ceremony at an end, Jia Zheng called Jia Lian outside to ask about the cortege the next day and whom he meant to leave in charge at home.

  “Of the masters, I’ve told Jia Yun to stay behind,” Jia Lian reported. “Of the servants, I’ve ordered Lin Zhixiao’s family to see to the dismantling of the sheds. But which of the ladies should stay to keep an eye on the inner apartments?”

  “I hear from your mother that your wife is too unwell to go. She can stay at home. And your Sister-in-law You suggests that since she is so ill, Xichun should keep her company and get a few maids to look after the mistresses’ quarters.”

  Jia Lian knew that Madam You had made this proposal because she was not on good terms with Xichun, who could not take effective charge; and Xifeng was too ill to cope. After some consideration he replied, “Please have a rest, sir, while I go in to settle it with them before reporting back.”

  Jia Zheng nodded and Jia Lian went to the inner quarters.

  Now Yuanyang after a bout of weeping thought, “I’ve been with the old lady all my life, and I’ve found no niche for myself. Although the Elder Master isn’t at home now, I don’t think much of the Elder Mistress either. And with the Second Master letting things slide, there’ll be such chaos in future that there’s no knowing who else may take over. Then we shall be at their mercy, whether they decide to make us concubines or marry us off to some servants. I couldn’t stand that. Better die and be done with it! But how shall I kill myself?”

  By now she had entered the old lady’s annex. As she stepped over the threshold in the dim lamplight, she saw the shadowy figure of a woman who appeared to be about to hang herself with the scarf in her hand. Yuanyang felt no fear but wondered, “Who is she? She has the same idea as mine, but is a step ahead of me.”

  “Who are you?” she asked. “Since we’re both of the same mind, let’s die together.”

  The other made no reply, and Yuanyang approaching her saw that it was not one of their household. When she tried to look closer, the air struck chill and the apparition vanished. In stupefaction she left the room and sat down on the kang.

  “Ah, I know,” she murmured after a moment’s reflection. “That was Master Rong’s first wife from the East Mansion. She died so long ago, what brought her here? She must have come to summon me. But why should she hang herself?” She thought it over and decided, “That’s it. She’s showing me the way.”

  This train of thought enabled an evil spirit to take possession of her and standing up, weeping, she opened her dressing-case to take out the lock of hair which she had cut off when she swore never to leave the old lady’s service. Having tucked it inside her tunic, she undid her sash and looped it over the beam indicated by Qin Keqing. Then she wept again until the sound of guests dispersing outside made her afraid that someone might come in. She made haste to close the door, moved over a footstool and stood on it, tied the sash into a noose, slipped it round her throat and kicked the stool away. Then, alas, strangled to death, her sweet spirit took flight!

  Her wraith was wondering where to go when she saw Qin Keqing’s shadowy form in front. She overtook her crying, “Wait for me, Madam Rong!”

  “I am not Madam Rong,” was the reply, “but the sister of the Goddess of Disenchantment.”

  “I can see quite clearly that you’re Madam Rong—why should you deny it?”

  “Let me tell you the reason, then you’ll understand. I was the Arbiter of True Love in the palace of the goddess, and all romantic affairs were in my charge; then I descended to the dusty world as the most amorous of mortals, to lead all lovesick maidens back betimes to the Board of Love. This is why it was my lot to hang myself. Now that I have seen through earthly love, passed over the sea of love and returned to heaven, there is no one in charge of the Board of Infatuation in the Illusory Land of Great Void. The Goddess of Disenchantment has appointed you in my place to head this Board, and has therefore ordered me to lead you there.”

  “I have never known passion,” replied Yuanyang’s spirit. “How can I count as amorous?”

  “You don�
�t understand. Mortals mistake carnal appetite for love, and justify their immorality by calling themselves romantics and passing it off lightly. In fact, before the expression of joy or anger, grief or happiness, love is latent in each one’s nature; once these feelings are expressed then we have passion. Our love is as yet unexpressed like a flower in bud. If once expressed, it would cease to be true love.”

  Yuanyang’s wraith nodded agreement, then followed Keqing’s spirit.

  After Hupo had bid farewell to the dead and heard Their Ladyships designate caretakers, she decided to go and ask Yuanyang what carriage they would be taking the next day. Unable to find her in the old lady’s room, she approached the smaller room which opened off it. The door was closed, but peeping through a crack she was startled by the dim lamplight and flickering shadows, though she could hear not a sound.

  She went away exclaiming, “Where can the wretch have run off to?” Bumping into Zhenzhu she asked, “Have you seen Sister Yuanyang?”

  “I’m looking for her too,” was the answer. “Their Ladyships want her. Is she asleep in the annex?”

  “I had a peep and didn’t see anyone. The lamp hasn’t been trimmed, and it was too dark and scary to go in. But now we can go in together, to make sure there’s no one inside.”

  As they went in to trim the lamp Zhenzhu exclaimed, “Who put the stool here? It nearly tripped me up!”

  Happening to look up, she let out a little scream and fell backward, knocking hard against Hupo, who by then had also seen the fearful sight. She shrieked, rooted to the spot. People outside hearing their cries rushed in and, after exclaiming in horror, went to report this to Their Ladyships.

  At this news, Lady Wang, Baochai and the rest shed tears and went to take a look.

  Lady Xing remarked, “I never imagined Yuanyang had it in her! We must send word of this at once to the master.”

  Baoyu kept silent, gaping in consternation, till Xiren anxiously took his arm and urged him, “Cry if you want to, but don’t suppress your feelings.”

  Then Baoyu burst out wailing. “Only someone like Yuanyang would choose this way to die!” he thought. “The subtlest elements in the universe are truly concentrated in such girls! She died a splendid death. Which of the old lady’s sons or grandsons can compare with her, filthy creatures that we are?” This reflection raised his spirits.

  Baochai had heard Baoyu wailing, but by the time she reached his side he was smiling.

  “This is a bad sign!” cried Xiren. “He’s losing his mind again.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Baochai. “He has his reason.”

  This delighted Baoyu, who thought, “After all she understands me. The others don’t.”

  As Baoyu was letting his fancy run wild, Jia Zheng and some others came in.

  “What a good girl!” declared Jia Zheng approvingly. “The old lady’s love for her wasn’t thrown away.” He told Jia Lian, “Go and send to buy a coffin immediately and give her a good funeral. Tomorrow her coffin can go in the old lady’s cortege and be left in the temple behind the old lady’s coffin. This is what she wished for.”

  Jia Lian withdrew to attend to this, while orders were given to cut down Yuanyang’s corpse and lay it out in the inner room.

  Word of this brought Pinger, Xiren, Yinger and the other maids to the scene, where they mourned bitterly. Zijuan, who could see no future for herself, wished she had followed Daiyu to her grave to repay her mistress’ kindness, thinking that would have been a good death. As it was, she was hanging about for nothing in Baoyu’s quarters; for though he treated her affectionately, nothing would come of it. So she wept even more heart-rendingly than the rest.

  Lady Wang now summoned Yuanyang’s sister-in-law to attend to the coffining. After some discussion with Lady Xing, she also presented her with a hundred taels of the old lady’s money, promising to give her all Yuanyang’s belongings later. The sister-in-law kowtowed her thanks and withdrew.

  “She really had spirit, the lucky girl!” she exulted. “Winning herself a good name like this and a fine send-off!”

  “What a way to talk!” said a matron standing nearby. “You’re so tickled at selling her life for a hundred taels, you’d have been even better pleased that year to have given her to the Elder Master for a still bigger sum.

  This home-thrust made the sister-in-law blush. She had just reached the inner gate when Lin Zhixiao led in men carrying the coffin, obliging her to return to help lay out the corpse and make a pretence of wailing.

  Because Yuanyang had died for the Lady Dowager, Jia Zheng called for incense, lighted three sticks, and bowed before her coffin.

  “Since she immolated herself she can’t be treated as a bondmaid,” he said. “All you youngsters should pay homage to her.”

  Baoyu, only too glad to comply, came over and kowtowed respectfully. Jia Lian, mindful of her past goodness to him, wanted to follow suit but Lady Xing stopped him.

  “It’s enough for one of the masters to kowtow to her,” she reasoned. “If we overdo it she’ll lose her chance of reincarnation.”

  Then Jia Lian desisted.

  Baochai put out by this officiousness said, “By rights I shouldn’t pay homage to her, but after the old lady’s death we dared do nothing rash because of all the business we had to attend to; and as she showed true filial piety in our place, we should entrust to her the task of serving the old lady in our stead when she enters paradise. So it’s only right for us to express our thanks.”

  Then leaning on Yinger’s arm she went up to the coffin and poured a libation of wine, tears flowing down her cheeks. After that she bowed several times with clasped hands and wept bitterly. Some of those present thought Baoyu and his wife both rather crazed, others that they were compassionate yet others that they understood etiquette; and Jia Zheng approved of their conduct. They agreed to leave Xifeng and Xichun in charge of the house while the rest joined the funeral cortege. There was little sleep for anyone that night.

  At the fifth watch the cortege could be heard assembling outside. At seven it set off, headed by Jia Zheng in deep mourning and weeping as befitted a filial son. Then the coffin was borne out of the gate and sacrifices were offered at the roadside by different families—we need not go into detail. Eventually they reached Iron Threshold Temple, where both coffins were deposited and all the men were required to stay. But no more of this.

  Meanwhile in the Rong Mansion Lin Zhixiao supervised the dismantling of the sheds, refitted the doors and windows, had the courtyards swept clean and then assigned nightwatchmen. According to the rules of the house, after the second watch the three gates were closed and no man was permitted to enter the inner apartments, where only women kept watch.

  Xifeng felt a little clearer in her mind after a night’s rest, although too limp to get up. So Pinger and Xichun inspected the various apartments, then issued instructions to the women on watch and retired to their own quarters.

  Let us turn back now to Zhou Rui’s godson He San. The previous year when Jia Zhen was in charge, he had been thrashed and driven out because of his brawl with Bao Er, and he spent most of his time in a gambling-den. Recently, hearing of the old lady’s death and assuming that there must be odd jobs going, he had gone there to make inquiries day after day—but all to no effect. He went back grumbling to the gambling-house and sat down dejectedly.

  His cronies asked, “Why not play to recoup your losses?”

  “I would if I could,” said He San, “but I’ve no money.”

  “You’ve been with your godfather for several days and must have got pots of money from the Rong Mansion. Don’t go telling us you’re broke.”

  “Shut up!” he snapped. “They’ve got millions all right, but they’re hanging on to it. It’ll serve them right if one of these days there’s a fire or thieves break in.”

  “You’re lying again,” said the others. “After their place was raided they can’t have much left.”

  “A fat lot you know. It was only things from
the palace that got confiscated. The old lady left masses of gold and silver, but they won’t touch it—it’s all tucked away in her room waiting to be shared out after the funeral.”

  One of the gamesters made a note of this and after a few more throws remarked, “I’ve lost quite a bit but won’t try to win it back now. I’m for bed.” As he left he pulled He San out too. “Come on,” he said, “I want a word with you.”

  He San went out with him.

  “You’re a smart fellow yet now you’re broke,” said the man. “I think it’s a shame.”

  “It’s my fate to be poor. What can I do about it?”

  “You just said there’s pots of silver in the Rong Mansion. Why don’t you get hold of some?”

  “Brother, they may be rolling in gold and silver, yet when the likes of us ask for a cent or two will they part with it for nothing?”

  “If they won’t, what’s to stop us from helping ourselves?”

  Catching his implication He San demanded, “Then what do you suggest?”

  “I call you pretty dumb. If I were you I’d have taken it long ago.”

  “How would you go about it?”

  “If you want to make a pile,” the other whispered, “all you need do is act as guide. I have plenty of friends who are dabs at this. Not to say the Jias are away at the funeral, with only a few women left in the house; no matter how many men were there we wouldn’t be afraid! All I’m afraid of is that you haven’t the guts.”

  “Of course I have! Do you think I’m scared of that godfather of mine? I only put up with him for my godmother’s sake. He doesn’t count. As for your idea, I’m afraid it may be a flop and land us in trouble instead. They have connections, you know, in all the yamens. So quite apart from the fact that we may not pull it off, even if we do they’ll raise a hullabaloo.”