From excitement Hsüeh P'an's eyes protruded like copper bells. "What are you up to," he vociferated, "that you won't let me go where I please, and that you deliberately go on calumniating me? But every day that Pao-yü lives, the longer by that day I have to bear a false charge, so it's as well that we should both die that things be cleared up?"
Pao-ch'ai too hurriedly rushed forward. "Be patient a bit!" she exhorted him. "Here's mamma in an awful state of despair. Not to mention that it should be for you to come and pacify her, you contrariwise kick up all this rumpus! Why, saying nothing about her who is your parent, were even a perfect stranger to advise you, it would be meant for your good! But the good counsel she gave you has stirred up your monkey instead."
"From the way you're now speaking," Hsüeh P'an rejoined, "it must be you, who said that it was I; no one else but you!"
"You simply know how to feel displeased with me for speaking," argued Pao-ch'ai, "but you don't feel displeased with yourself for that reckless way of yours of looking ahead and not minding what is behind!"
"You now bear me a grudge," Hsüeh P'an added, "for looking to what is ahead and not to what is behind; but how is it you don't feel indignant with Pao-yü for stirring up strife and provoking trouble outside? Leaving aside everything else, I'll merely take that affair of Ch'i Kuan-erh's, which occurred the other day, and recount it to you as an instance. My friends and I came across this Ch'i Kuan-erh, ten times at least, but never has he made a single intimate remark to me, and how is it that, as soon as he met Pao-yü the other day, he at once produced his sash, and gave it to him, though he did not so much as know what his surname and name were? Now is it likely, forsooth, that this too was something that I started?"
"Do you still refer to this?" exclaimed Mrs. Hsüeh and Pao-ch'ai, out of patience. "Wasn't it about this that he was beaten? This makes it clear enough that it's you who gave the thing out."
"Really, you're enough to exasperate one to death!" Hsüeh P'an exclaimed. "Had you confined yourselves to saying that I had started the yarn, I wouldn't have lost my temper; but what irritates me is that such a fuss should be made for a single Pao-yü, as to subvert heaven and earth!"
"Who fusses?" shouted Pao-ch'ai. "You are the first to arm yourself to the teeth and start a row, and then you say that it's others who are up to mischief!"
Hsüeh P'an, seeing that every remark, made by Pao-ch'ai, contained so much reasonableness that he could with difficulty refute it, and that her words were even harder for him to reply to than were those uttered by his mother, he was consequently bent upon contriving a plan to make use of such language as could silence her and compel her to return to her room, so as to have no one bold enough to interfere with his speaking; but, his temper being up, he was not in a position to weigh his speech. "Dear Sister!" he readily therefore said, "you needn't be flying into a huff with me! I've long ago divined your feelings. Mother told me some time back that for you with that gold trinket, must be selected some suitor provided with a jade one; as such a one will be a suitable match for you. And having treasured this in your mind, and seen that Pao-yü has that rubbishy thing of his, you naturally now seize every occasion to screen him...."
However, before he could finish, Pao-ch'ai trembled with anger, and clinging to Mrs. Hsüeh, she melted into tears. "Mother," she observed, "have you heard what brother says, what is it all about?"
Hsüeh P'an, at the sight of his sister bathed in tears, became alive to the fact that he had spoken inconsiderately, and, flying into a rage, he walked away to his own quarters and retired to rest. But we can well dispense with any further comment on the subject.
Pao-ch'ai was, at heart, full of vexation and displeasure. She meant to give vent to her feelings in some way, but the fear again of upsetting her mother compelled her to conceal her tears. She therefore took leave of her parent, and went back all alone. On her return to her chamber, she sobbed and sobbed throughout the whole night. The next day, she got out of bed, as soon as it dawned; but feeling even no inclination to comb her chevelure or perform her ablutions, she carelessly adjusted her clothes and came out of the garden to see her mother.
As luck would have it, she encountered Tai-yü standing alone under the shade of the trees, who inquired of her: "Where she was off to?"
"I'm going home," Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai replied. And as she uttered these words, she kept on her way.
But Tai-yü perceived that she was going off in a disconsolate mood; and, noticing that her eyes betrayed signs of crying, and that her manner was unlike that of other days, she smilingly called out to her from behind: "Sister, you should take care of yourself a bit. Were you even to cry so much as to fill two water jars with tears, you wouldn't heal the wounds inflicted by the cane."
But as what reply Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai gave is not yet known to you, reader, lend an ear to the explanation contained in the next chapter.
Chapter XXXV
*
Pai Yü-ch'uan tastes too the lotus-leaf soup. Huang Chin-ying skilfully plaits the plum-blossom-knotted nets.
Pao ch'ai had, our story goes, distinctly heard Lin Tai-yü's sneer, but in her eagerness to see her mother and brother, she did not so much as turn her head round, but continued straight on her way.
During this time, Lin Tai-yü halted under the shadow of the trees. Upon casting a glance, in the distance towards the I Hung Yüan, she observed Li Kung-ts'ai, Ying Ch'un, T'an Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un and various inmates wending their steps in a body in the direction of the I Hung court; but after they had gone past, and company after company of them had dispersed, she only failed to see lady Feng come. "How is it," she cogitated within herself, "that she doesn't come to see Pao-yü? Even supposing that there was some business to detain her, she should also have put in an appearance, so as to curry favour with our venerable senior and Madame Wang. But if she hasn't shown herself at this hour of the day, there must certainly be some cause or other."
While preoccupied with conjectures, she raised her head. At a second glance, she discerned a crowd of people, as thick as flowers in a bouquet, pursuing their way also into the I Hung court. On looking fixedly, she recognised dowager lady Chia, leaning on lady Feng's arm, followed by Mesdames Hsing and Wang, Mrs. Chou and servant-girls, married women and other domestics. In a body they walked into the court. At the sight of them, Tai-yü unwittingly nodded her head, and reflected on the benefit of having a father and mother; and tears forthwith again bedewed her face. In a while, she beheld Pao-ch'ai, Mrs. Hsüeh and the rest likewise go in.
But at quite an unexpected moment she became aware that Tzu Chüan was approaching her from behind. "Miss," she said, "you had better go and take your medicine! The hot water too has got cold."
"What do you, after all, mean by keeping on pressing me so?" inquired Tai-yü. "Whether I have it or not, what's that to you?"
"Your cough," smiled Tzu Chüan, "has recently got a trifle better, and won't you again take your medicine? This is, it's true, the fifth moon, and the weather is hot, but you should, nevertheless, take good care of yourself a bit! Here you've been at this early hour of the morning standing for ever so long in this damp place; so you should go back and have some rest!"
This single hint recalled Tai-yü to her senses. She at length realised that her legs felt rather tired. After lingering about abstractedly for a long while, she quietly returned into the Hsiao Hsiang lodge, supporting herself on Tzu Chüan. As soon as they stepped inside the entrance of the court, her gaze was attracted by the confused shadows of the bamboos, which covered the ground, and the traces of moss, here thick, there thin, and she could not help recalling to mind those two lines of the passage in the Hsi Hsiang Chi:
"In that lone nook some one saunters about,
White dew coldly bespecks the verdant moss."
"Shuang Wen," she consequently secretly communed within herself, as she sighed, "had of course a poor fate; but she nevertheless had a widowed mother and a young brother; but in the unhappy destiny, to which I, Tai-y
ü, am at present doomed, I have neither a widowed mother nor a young brother."
At this point in her reflections, she was about to melt into another fit of crying, when of a sudden, the parrot under the verandah caught sight of Tai-yü approaching, and, with a shriek, he jumped down from his perch, and made her start with fright.
"Are you bent upon compassing your own death!" she exclaimed. "You've covered my head all over with dust again!"
The parrot flew back to his perch. "Hsüeh Yen," he kept on shouting, "quick, raise the portiere! Miss is come!"
Tai-yü stopped short and rapped on the frame with her hand. "Have his food and water been replenished?" she asked.
The parrot forthwith heaved a deep sigh, closely resembling, in sound, the groans usually indulged in by Tai-yü, and then went on to recite:
"Here I am fain these flowers to inter, but humankind will laugh me as a fool."
Who knows who will in years to come commit me to my grave.
As soon as these lines fell on the ear of Tai-yü and Tzu Chüan, they blurted out laughing.
"This is what you were repeating some time back, Miss." Tzu Chüan laughed, "How did he ever manage to commit it to memory?"
Tai-yü then directed some one to take down the frame and suspend it instead on a hook, outside the circular window, and presently entering her room, she seated herself inside the circular window. She had just done drinking her medicine, when she perceived that the shade cast by the cluster of bamboos, planted outside the window, was reflected so far on the gauze lattice as to fill the room with a faint light, so green and mellow, and to impart a certain coolness to the teapoys and mats. But Tai-yü had no means at hand to dispel her ennui, so from inside the gauze lattice, she instigated the parrot to perform his pranks; and selecting some verses, which had ever found favour with her, she tried to teach them to him.
But without descending to particulars, let us now advert to Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai. On her return home, she found her mother alone combing her hair and having a wash. "Why do you run over at this early hour of the morning?" she speedily inquired when she saw her enter.
"To see," replied Pao-ch'ai, "whether you were all right or not, mother. Did he come again, I wonder, after I left yesterday and make any more trouble or not?"
As she spoke, she sat by her mother's side, but unable to curb her tears, she began to weep.
Seeing her sobbing, Mrs. Hsüeh herself could not check her feelings, and she, too, burst out into a fit of crying. "My child," she simultaneously exhorted her, "don't feel aggrieved! Wait, and I'll call that child of wrath to order; for were anything to happen to you, from whom will I have anything to hope?"
Hsüeh P'an was outside and happened to overhear their conversation, so with alacrity he ran over, and facing Pao-ch'ai he made a bow, now to the left and now to the right, observing the while: "My dear sister, forgive me this time. The fact is that I took some wine yesterday; I came back late, as I met a few friends on the way. On my return home, I hadn't as yet got over the fumes, so I unintentionally talked a lot of nonsense. But I don't so much as remember anything about all I said. It isn't worth your while, however, losing your temper over such a thing!"
Pao-ch'ai was, in fact, weeping, as she covered her face, but the moment this language fell on her ear, she could scarcely again refrain from laughing. Forthwith raising her head, she sputtered contemptuously on the ground. "You can well dispense with all this sham!" she exclaimed, "I'm well aware that you so dislike us both, that you're anxious to devise some way of inducing us to part company with you, so that you may be at liberty."
Hsüeh P'an, at these words, hastened to smile. "Sister," he argued, "what makes you say so? once upon a time, you weren't so suspicious and given to uttering anything so perverse!"
Mrs. Hsüeh hurriedly took up the thread of the conversation. "All you know," she interposed, "is to find fault with your sister's remarks as being perverse; but can it be that what you said last night was the proper thing to say? In very truth, you were drunk!"
"There's no need for you to get angry, mother!" Hsüeh P'an rejoined, "nor for you sister either; for from this day, I shan't any more make common cause with them nor drink wine or gad about. What do you say to that?"
"That's equal to an acknowledgment of your failings," Pao-ch'ai laughed.
"Could you exercise such strength of will," added Mrs. Hsüeh, "why, the dragon too would lay eggs."
"If I again go and gad about with them," Hsüeh P'an replied, "and you, sister, come to hear of it, you can freely spit in my face and call me a beast and no human being. Do you agree to that? But why should you two be daily worried; and all through me alone? For you, mother, to be angry on my account is anyhow excusable; but for me to keep on worrying you, sister, makes me less then ever worthy of the name of a human being! If now that father is no more, I manage, instead of showing you plenty of filial piety, mamma, and you, sister, plenty of love, to provoke my mother to anger, and annoy my sister, why I can't compare myself to even a four-footed creature!"
While from his mouth issued these words, tears rolled down from his eyes; for he too found it hard to contain them.
Mrs. Hsüeh had not at first been overcome by her feelings; but the moment his utterances reached her ear, she once more began to experience the anguish, which they stirred in her heart.
Pao-ch'ai made an effort to force a smile. "You've already," she said, "been the cause of quite enough trouble, and do you now provoke mother to have another cry?"
Hearing this, Hsüeh P'an promptly checked his tears. As he put on a smiling expression, "When did I," he asked, "make mother cry? But never mind; enough of this! let's drop the matter, and not allude to it any more! Call Hsiang Ling to come and give you a cup of tea, sister!"
"I don't want any tea." Pao-ch'ai answered. "I'll wait until mother has finished washing her hands and then go with her into the garden."
"Let me see your necklet, sister," Hsüeh P'an continued. "I think it requires cleaning."
"It is so yellow and bright," rejoined Pao-ch'ai, "and what's the use of cleaning it again?"
"Sister," proceeded Hsüeh P'an, "you must now add a few more clothes to your wardrobe, so tell me what colour and what design you like best."
"I haven't yet worn out all the clothes I have," Pao-ch'ai explained, "and why should I have more made?"
But, in a little time, Mrs. Hsüeh effected the change in her costume, and hand in hand with Pao-ch'ai, she started on her way to the garden.
Hsüeh P'an thereupon took his departure. During this while, Mrs. Hsüeh and Pao-ch'ai trudged in the direction of the garden to look up Pao-yü. As soon as they reached the interior of the I Hung court, they saw a large concourse of waiting-maids and matrons standing inside as well as outside the antechambers and they readily concluded that old lady Chia and the other ladies were assembled in his rooms. Mrs. Hsüeh and her daughter stepped in. After exchanging salutations with every one present, they noticed that Pao-yü was reclining on the couch and Mrs. Hsüeh inquired of him whether he felt any better.
Pao-yü hastily attempted to bow. "I'm considerably better;" he said. "All I do," he went on, "is to disturb you, aunt, and you, my cousin, but I don't deserve such attentions."
Mrs. Hsüeh lost no time in supporting and laying him down. "Mind you tell me whatever may take your fancy!" she proceeded.
"If I do fancy anything," retorted Pao-yü smilingly, "I shall certainly send to you, aunt, for it."
"What would you like to eat," likewise inquired Madame Wang, "so that I may, on my return, send it round to you?"
"There's nothing that I care for," smiled Pao-yü, "though the soup made for me the other day, with young lotus leaves, and small lotus cores was, I thought, somewhat nice."
"From what I hear, its flavour is nothing very grand," lady Feng chimed in laughingly, from where she stood on one side. "It involves, however, a good deal of trouble to concoct; and here you deliberately go and fancy this very thing."
"
Go and get it ready!" cried dowager lady Chia several successive times.
"Venerable ancestor," urged lady Feng with a smile, "don't you bother yourself about it! Let me try and remember who can have put the moulds away!" Then turning her head round, "Go and bid," she enjoined an old matron, "the chief in the cook-house go and apply for them!"
After a considerable lapse of time, the matron returned. "The chief in the cook-house," she explained, "says that the four sets of moulds for soups have all been handed up."
Upon hearing this, lady Feng thought again for a while. "Yes, I remember," she afterwards remarked, "they were handed up, but I can't recollect to whom they were given. Possibly they're in the tea-room."
Thereupon, she also despatched a servant to go and inquire of the keeper of the tea-room about them; but he too had not got them; and it was subsequently the butler, entrusted with the care of the gold and silver articles, who brought them round.
Mrs. Hsüeh was the first to take them and examine them. What, in fact, struck her gaze was a small box, the contents of which were four sets of silver moulds. Each of these was over a foot long, and one square inch (in breadth). On the top, holes were bored of the size of beans. Some resembled chrysanthemums, others plum blossom. Some were in the shape of lotus seed-cases, others like water chestnuts. They numbered in all thirty or forty kinds, and were ingeniously executed.
"In your mansion," she felt impelled to observe smilingly to old lady Chia and Madame Wang, "everything has been amply provided for! Have you got all these things to prepare a plate of soup with! Hadn't you told me, and I happened to see them, I wouldn't have been able to make out what they were intended for!"
Lady Feng did not allow time to any one to put in her word. "Aunt," she said, "how could you ever have divined that these were used last year for the imperial viands! They thought of a way by which they devised, somehow or other, I can't tell how, some dough shapes, which borrow a little of the pure fragrance of the new lotus leaves. But as all mainly depends upon the quality of the soup, they're not, after all, of much use! Yet who often goes in for such soup! It was made once only, and that at the time when the moulds were brought; and how is it that he has come to think of it to-day?" So speaking, she took (the moulds), and handed them to a married woman, to go and issue directions to the people in the cook-house to procure at once several fowls, and to add other ingredients besides and prepare ten bowls of soup.