Bao-chai stood up politely to acknowledge the message. Afterwards she nudged Bao-qin playfully.
‘I don’t know! Some people have all the luck. You’d better leave us, hadn’t you, before we start maltreating you? It beats me. What have you got that I haven’t got?’
She was still teasing Bao-qin when Bao-yu and Dai-yu arrived.
‘You say that in jest, Chai,’ said Xiang-yun, noting their entry, ‘but I know someone who really thinks that way.’
‘If anyone’s really upset, it must be him,’ said Amber, pointing her finger at Bao-yu.
Xiang-yun laughed at her simple-mindedness:
‘No, he’s not that sort of person.’
‘Then if it’s not him you mean, it must be her,’ said Amber, pointing now at Dai-yu.
Xiang-yun fell silent. This time it was Bao-chai who spoke:
‘Wrong again. She feels the same way about my cousin as I do. In fact, I believe if anything she’s even fonder of her; so how could she be upset? Don’t be taken in by Miss Shi’s nonsense, my dear Amber. When did you ever hear Miss Shi say anything serious?’
From past experience Bao-yu – who still knew nothing of Dai-yu and Bao-chai’s recent rapprochement – was too familiar with Dai-yu’s jealous disposition not to feel apprehensive that Grandmother Jia’s new partiality for Bao-qin might upset her. He was puzzled, therefore, by Bao-chai’s rejoinder, and even more puzzled when he studied the expression on Dai-yu’s face and found that, far from showing any trace of the resentment he would have expected, it exactly tallied with what Bao-chai had said.
‘Those two used not to be like this,’ he thought. ‘Yet to judge from appearances, they are ten times friendlier towards each other now than they are towards anyone else.’
Shortly after this he heard Dai-yu calling Bao-qin ‘dear’ and fussing over her as if she were Bao-qin’s elder sister.
Bao-qin was a young, warm-hearted creature; she was, moreover, highly intelligent and had been taught her letters from an early age. By the time she had been a couple of days in the Jia household, she had already formed some impression of its members. Finding that her cousins were quite different from the vapid, giggling creatures to be found in the women’s quarters of so many houses, she was soon on friendly terms with all of them and was careful not to show off; but in Dai-yu she recognized a superior intelligence, and consequently felt even more affection and respect for her than she did for any of the others. Hence the intimacy which Bao-yu had just witnessed. He studied the pair of them curiously and marvelled in silence.
Shortly after this, when Bao-chai and Bao-qin had gone off to Aunt Xue’s place and Xiang-yun had gone to see Grandmother Jia and Dai-yu had gone back to her own room to rest, Bao-Yu went after Dai-yu to question her.
‘I’ve read The Western Chamber,’ he said, ‘and understood it well enough to have offended you on more than one occasion by quoting it at you; yet there’s one line in it I still don’t understand. Do you think, if I told you it, you could explain it to me?’
Dai-yu realized that something must lie behind this request, nevertheless she smilingly promised that she would do her best.
‘It comes in the section called “Ying-ying’s Reply”,’ said Bao-yu:
‘Since when did Meng Guang accept Liang Hong’s tray?
The question seems rather an apposite one. Those two little words “since when” particularly intrigue me. Kindly expound them for me, will you? Since when did Meng Guang accept Liang Hong’s tray?’
Dai-yu could not but be amused by the droll way in which he had gone about making his inquiry.
‘That’s a good question,’ she said. ‘It was a good question when Reddie asked it in the play, and it’s a good question when you ask it now.’
‘There was a time, not so long past, when you might have been deeply offended by it,’ said Bao-yu, ‘yet now you say nothing.’
‘It’s because now I know she’s a very good person,’ said Dai-yu. ‘Before I used to think she was two-faced.’
She proceeded to tell him, at some length, about the motherly talking-to Bao-chai had given her after her lapses in the drinking-game and about the gift of bird’s nest and sugar and the long talk Bao-chai had had with her when she was ill.
‘I see,’ said Bao-yu. ‘I needn’t have been so puzzled then. It seems that the question
Since when did Meng Guang accept Liang Hong’s tray?
could have been answered with another line from the same act of the same play. It was since you spoke
Like a child whose unbridled tongue knows no concealment!’
Dai-yu went on to talk about Bao-qin, whom she evidently looked on as a younger sister. Alas, this only reminded her that she had no real sister of her own and she began to cry. Bao-yu would have none of this.
‘Now come on, Dai! You’re making yourself upset. Look at you! You’re thinner than ever this year. It’s because you won’t take care of yourself. You positively look for ways of making yourself miserable. It’s almost as though you felt you hadn’t spent the day properly unless you’d had at least one good cry in it!’
‘No,’ said Dai-yu as she wiped her eyes. ‘I feel very low these days, but I don’t think I cry as much as I used to.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ said Bao-yu. ‘It’s just that it’s become so much a habit with you that you no longer know whether you’re crying or not. I’m sure you cry just as much as you always did.’
Just then one of the maids from his room arrived carrying his scarlet felt rain-cape.
‘Mrs Zhu has just sent someone round with a message for you, Master Bao,’ said the maid. ‘She says it’s starting to snow now and she wants to discuss with you about inviting people for the poetry meeting.’
She had barely finished speaking when Li Wan’s emissary arrived to deliver the same message to Dai-yu. Bao-yu suggested that they should go to Sweet-rice Village together and waited while she put on a pair of little red-leather boots which had a gilded cloud-pattern cut into their surface, a pelisse of heavy, dark-red bombasine lined with white fox-fur, a complicated woven belt made out of silvery-green shot silk, and a snow-hat. The two of them then set off together through the snow.
They arrived to find that nearly all the others were there already, mostly in red felt or camlet snow-cloaks. The exceptions were Li Wan, who wore a simple greatcoat of plain woollen material buttoned down the front, Xue Bao-chai in a pelisse of ivy-green whorl-patterned brocade trimmed with some sort of exotic lamb‘s-wool, and Xing Xiu-yan, who had no protection against the snow of any kind beyond the everyday clothes she was wearing.
Presently Xiang-yun arrived. She was wearing an enormous fur coat that Grandmother Jia had given her. The outside was made up of sables’ heads and the inside lined with long-haired black squirrel. On her head was a dark-red camlet ‘Princess’ hood lined with yellow figured velvet, whose cut-out cloud shapes were bordered with gold, and round her neck, muffling her up to the nose, was a large sable tippet.
‘Look, Monkey!’ said Dai-yu, laughing at this furry apparition. ‘Trust Yun to turn the need for wearing snow-clothes into an excuse for dressing up! She looks just like a Tartar groom!’
‘You haven’t seen what I am wearing underneath yet,’ said Xiang-yun, and opened out the fur coat to show them.
She had on a short, narrow-sleeved, ermine-lined tunic jacket of russet green, edge-fastened down the centre front, purfled at neck and cuffs with a triple band of braiding in contrasting colours, and patterned all over with dragon-roundels embroidered in gold thread and coloured silks. Under this she was wearing a short riding-skirt of pale-red satin damask lined with white fox belly-fur. A court girdle of different-coloured silks braided into butterfly knots and ending in long silken tassels was tied tightly round her waist. Her boots were of deerskin. The whole ensemble greatly enhanced the somewhat masculine appearance of her figure with its graceful, athletic bearing.
The others laughed:
‘She loves dressing
up as a boy. Actually she looks even more fetching in boy’s clothes than she does as a girl.’
‘Let’s get down to business,’ said Xiang-yun. ‘What I want to know is, who’s paying for the entertainment this time?’
‘Well, this is what I thought,’ said Li Wan. ‘We’ve already passed the date for our regular meeting, and we don’t want to wait until the next one comes round, because it’s too far ahead. As it’s snowing, I thought it would be rather nice if we clubbed together for a little snow-party in honour of the newcomers and used it as an occasion for doing some poetry-making as well. What do the rest of you think?’
‘I think that’s exactly what we should do,’ said Bao-yu. ‘The only thing is, it’s a bit late for a party today, but if we wait until tomorrow, the snow may have stopped by then and it won’t be so much fun.’
‘It’s very unlikely to,’ said the others. ‘And even if it has stopped by tomorrow morning, it will surely be snowing still tonight, so it should be well worth looking at in the morning.’
‘This place here is all right, of course,’ said Li Wan, ‘but I thought that for this occasion it would be nicer if we met in Snowy Rushes Retreat. I’ve already told them to light the stove there and get the underground heating system started. I don’t think Grandma would much like the idea of our sitting round the stove making verses, so, as it’s only a very little party, I propose that we don’t tell her about it. As long as we let Feng know, it should be sufficient. As regards contributions: if each of you will bring one tael to me here, it ought to be enough. Not you five,’ she pointed to Caltrop, Bao-qin, Li Wen, Li Qi and Xiu-yan – ‘And Ying-chun and Xi-chun won’t be contributing either. Ying-chun is ill and Xi-chun is on leave of absence. That leaves only Bao-chai, Dai-yu, Xiang-yun and Dai-yu. If you four will contribute one tael each, I will undertake to contribute five or six taels myself. Together that should be ample.’
Bao-chai and the other three promised to bring her their contributions later and went on to ask what titles and rhymes should be set for the poetry-making.
‘I’ve already decided that,’ said Li Wan. ‘Let it be a surprise for you when you come.’
Arrangements for the party having now been settled, the cousins chatted together for a while longer before going off in a body to visit Grandmother Jia.
That concludes the narrative for that day.
At first light next morning Bao-yu, who in excited anticipation of the day ahead had barely slept all night, crawled from the covers and lifted up a corner of the bed-curtain to inspect the weather. Although the doors and windows were still fastened, there was an ominous brightness about the latter which led him to conclude – inwardly groaning with disappointment – that the snow must have cleared and the sun be shining. Jumping out of bed, he opened one of the inner casements and looked through the glass. It was not the sun after all, he found, but the white gleam of snow. It had been snowing all night; there was a good foot of snow on the ground and it was still coming down in great, soft flakes, like the flock from a torn-up quilt.
Overjoyed to find that he had been wrong, he at once began shouting for his maids, and as soon as he had finished washing and dressed himself in an aubergine-coloured gown lined with fox, a jacket with a sealskin shoulder-cape, and a belt round his waist for warmth, he donned his elegant rain-hat and cape (the Prince of Bei-jing’s present that Dai-yu had so much admired), stepped into his pear-wood pattens, and set off for Snowy Rushes Retreat.
Once outside the courtyard gate, the Garden stretched out on every hand in uniform whiteness, uninterrupted except for the dark green of a pine-tree or the lighter green of some bamboos here and there in the distance. He felt as if he was standing in the middle of a great glittering crystal bowl. Proceeding on his way, he had just turned a spur in the miniature mountain whose foot he was skirting, when his senses were suddenly ravished by a delicate cold fragrance. On looking around him, he found it to be coming from the dozen or so trees of winter-flowering red plum growing inside the walls of Green Bower Hermitage where the nun Adamantina lived. The brilliance of their carmine hue against the white background and the bravura of their blossoming amidst the snow so enchanted him that he stopped for some minutes to admire them.
As he moved on again, he saw someone carrying a green oiled-silk umbrella crossing over Wasp Waist Bridge. It was one of Li Wan’s servants on her way to invite Xi-feng to the party.
Arriving at Snowy Rushes Retreat, he found several women-servants outside, sweeping a pathway up to the door.
Snowy Rushes Retreat was built at the water’s margin in the shelter of a little hill. It had a thatched roof and adobe walls and a post-and-bar fence round it and bamboo-barred windows, just like a farmhouse or a peasant’s cottage. By merely opening a casement and leaning out, it was possible to fish in the lake from its rear windows. Reeds and rushes grew all around it. A meandering pathway through them led to the bamboo bridge by which Lotus Pavilion could be approached from the back.
When the snow-sweepers caught sight of Bao-yu in his rain-hat and cape, they paused from their labours and laughed.
‘We were just saying a moment ago that all we need now is an old fisherman, and here he comes! You’re too impatient, Master: the young ladies won’t be coming until they’ve eaten.’
Hearing that, there was nothing for Bao-yu to do but go back again.
Looking out from Drenched Blossoms Pavilion while he was crossing over the bridge, he caught sight of his sister Tan-chun emerging from Autumn Studio. She was wearing a dark-red camlet cloak and Guanyin hood and leaning on the arm of a little maid. A woman-servant walked behind her carrying a green oiled-silk umbrella. Realizing that she must be on her way to see Grandmother Jia, Bao-yu waited by the pavilion for her to catch up with him and accompanied her out of the Garden.
When they arrived, Bao-qin was still at her toilet in the inner room. The other cousins joined them shortly after. Bao-yu kept telling everyone how hungry he felt and grumbling because the servants were so long in serving. When the food at last arrived, the first dish to be put on the table was unborn lamb stewed in milk.
‘That’s a health-food,’ said Grandmother Jia. ‘It’s for old folk like me. I’m afraid you young people couldn’t eat it. It’s a creature that’s never seen the light. There’s some fresh venison today, though. Why don’t you wait and have some of that?’
The others agreed to wait, but Bao-yu professed himself unable to hold out, and helping himself to a bowl of plain boiled rice, poured a little tea over it and shovelled it straight from the bowl into his mouth with one or two collops of pickled pheasant-meat to help it down.
‘I know you’ve got something on today,’ said Grandmother Jia. ‘That’s why you’ve no time to eat properly.’ She turned to the servants. ‘Save some of the venison for them to eat in the evening.’
‘There’s plenty more,’ said Xi-feng. ‘I’ve already spoken to them about it.’
Xiang-yun had a brief consultation on the subject with Bao-yu:
‘If they’ve got fresh venison, why don’t we ask for a piece and cook it ourselves in the Garden? That would be fun.’
Bao-yu eagerly took up her suggestion and begged a piece from Xi-feng. He got one of the women to take it into the Garden for them.
Presently, when they had all left Grandmother Jia’s place and reassembled in Snowy Rushes Retreat and were waiting to hear what themes and rhymes Li Wan had decided on, they noticed that Xiang-yun and Bao-yu were missing.
‘Those two should never be allowed together,’ said Dai-yu. ‘As soon as ever they get together there is some kind of mischief afoot. No doubt the reason they’ve gone off this time is because they have designs on that deer’s meat.’
Just then Li Wan’s aunt, Mrs Li, came in, drawn by the noise and numbers to see what was happening.
‘That boy with the jade and the girl with the gold kylin,’ she said to Li Wan anxiously, ‘they both seem such clean, well-bred children, and they look as if they had enoug
h to eat, yet just now the two of them were discussing how to eat a piece of raw venison. They seemed to be quite serious about it, too. Can one eat venison raw? I find it hard to believe that it can be very good for you.’
‘Shocking!’ exclaimed the others. ‘Better go out and stop them.’
‘Yun is at the bottom of this,’ said Dai-yu. ‘Mark my words!’
Li Wan hurried off to find the culprits.
‘If you are proposing to eat raw meat,’ she said when she had found them, ‘I shall have to send you back to Grandma’s to do it there. You can take a whole deer and stuff yourselves sick on it as long as it’s not my responsibility. Come on, now! Come back and make verses with the rest of us. Out in all this snow – it’s much too cold!’
‘You’re absolutely mistaken,’ said Bao-yu, laughing. ‘We’re planning to roast it.’
‘Oh well,’ said Li Wan, ‘that’s different.’
Some old women arrived just then, carrying an iron stove, some metal skewers and a grill.
‘Now be careful about cutting that meat,’ said Li Wan. ‘If you cut your fingers, you’ll have nobody to blame but yourselves!’
Having uttered that warning, she went indoors again.
Not long after she had gone in, Patience came by on her way to the Retreat. Xi-feng had sent her, in response to Li Wan’s invitation, to explain that she was unable to join them because she was busy seeing to the various annual payments that fall due at this time of year. Xiang-yun stopped her to exchange greetings, and having once stopped her, was unwilling to let her go again. Patience was by nature a fun-loving girl and she knew that Xi-feng would generally let her do as she liked. Considering the idea of cooking outdoors a great lark, she entered into the spirit of the thing, and taking off her bracelets, joined the other two round the brazier and asked for three of the cut-up pieces of venison to roast.
Bao-chai and Dai-yu had seen this kind of thing before and were not particularly interested, but it was a novelty to Mrs Li and Bao-qin and the newcomers, and they were greatly intrigued.