The Debt of Tears

  Aroma’s intention in coming had been to sound them out; but somehow amid all these medical ministrations an easy opening failed to present itself, and she reckoned that it was not worth running the risk of offending the prickly Miss Lin on the offchance of obtaining the information she wanted. So, after sitting there a little longer and making a little desultory chat, she said goodbye and set off back home.

  She was approaching Green Delights, when she saw to her considerable surprise two male figures standing a little way off, and thought it more discreet not to proceed any further. One of them had already spotted her, however, and came running up. It turned out to be Ploughboy, one of Bao-yu’s pages.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing here?’ she asked him.

  ‘Master Yun’s just come with a letter for Master Bao, and he’s waiting for a reply.’

  ‘But you know perfectly well that Master Bao goes to school every day, so what’s the point of waiting?’

  ‘That’s what I told him,’ said Ploughboy, grinning sheepishly. ‘But he just said that I was to tell you and he’d wait for your reply instead.’

  A suitable retort was already on Aroma’s lips when she noticed that the other man had started slinking towards them. A closer inspection confirmed that the stealthy intruder was indeed Jia Yun. She turned to Ploughboy and said briskly:

  ‘Tell him his letter will be delivered to Master Bao in due course.’

  Jia Yun’s slow and sinuous progress had been designed to camouflage his true aim, which was to achieve a tête-à-tête with the delectable Miss Aroma. His dismissal (which he heard only too clearly), when almost within reach of his goal, obliged him to abandon these plans and come to a premature standstill. Aroma turned smartly on her heel and walked on into Green Delights, leaving Ploughboy to escort the crestfallen Jia Yun from the Garden.

  Aroma related the incident that evening to Bao-yu, on his return from school:

  ‘That Master Yun from West Lane was here today,’ she said briefly.

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘He left a note for you.’

  ‘Where is it? I’d better see what it says.’

  Musk went to fetch Yun’s note from the bookshelf in the inner room, and handed it to Bao-yu. The envelope bore the inscription: ‘To My Honoured Uncle’.

  ‘Funny,’ said Bao-yu. ‘I thought I was supposed to be his father!’

  ‘What?’ retorted Aroma.

  ‘Don’t you remember, the year before last when he sent me that white Autumn Crab-blossom, he signed himself my “Dutiful and Affectionate Son”? It seems I’ve been demoted to plain Uncle…’

  ‘Honestly!’ exclaimed Aroma. ‘The pair of you should be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves! Fancy a grown man like him passing himself off as your son! He ought to know better! And as for you… Father Bao indeed! Why you’re not even…’

  Aroma stopped short. She blushed and gave a little smile. Bao-yu knew what she meant.

  ‘Who knows?’ he quipped. ‘Perhaps he thought of me as his Spiritual Father, like that

  celebrated celibate of yore

  whose children could be numbered by the score…

  I only agreed to it because I thought he was quite clever and a likeable sort of fellow; if he’s changed his mind, I really couldn’t care less.’

  ‘If you want to know, he gives me the creeps,’ Aroma continued, as Bao-yu opened the letter. ‘He’s for ever trying to worm his way in, and looks so shifty about it. I wouldn’t trust him an inch.’

  Bao-yu was too absorbed in examining the contents of the letter to take any notice of what she was saying. She studied his face as he read. A frown, then a smile, which soon gave way to a shake of the head, and finally an expression of impatience. When he seemed to have finished, she asked:

  ‘What’s it all about then?’

  By way of response Bao-yu tore the letter into shreds. Aroma thought it wiser to change the subject.

  ‘Are you planning to do some work after dinner or not?’

  ‘What a cad!’

  She smiled at this capricious reply:

  ‘Well, what was it about?’

  ‘Oh who cares! Let’s have dinner. Then I’m going straight to bed. I feel quite sick!’

  He told one of the junior maids to light a fire and threw the remains of Yun’s letter into it.

  Supper was soon served, but Bao-yu was in no mood for it and only sat there staring glumly in front of him. After trying every form of pressure and persuasion Aroma finally succeeded in making him swallow a mouthful, only to see him put his bowl down once more and flop listlessly onto his bed. Suddenly he began to cry.

  Neither she nor Musk had the slightest idea what was the matter.

  ‘Come on, you’ve got to tell us,’ protested Musk. ‘It’s all this Yun’s fault, or whatever his wretched name is. I can’t imagine what his stupid letter was all about, to have such a queer effect on you, laughing one minute, crying your heart out the next. If you carry on in this strange way much longer, you’ll worry us to death, indeed you will!’

  She was on the verge of tears herself. Aroma could not help smiling:

  ‘Musky dear, don’t you go making things worse, please. He’s got quite enough on his mind as it is. Unless of course you want people to think the letter had something to do with you…’

  ‘Well, that’s a stupid remark I must say!’ replied Musk. ‘You don’t know what it said, anyway. It might have been anything. Why drag me into it? Unless of course it’s got something to do with you…’

  Before Aroma could reply there was a splutter of laughter from the bed and Bao-yu sat up, gave his clothes a shake and said to them both:

  ‘Come on, that’s enough. Let’s go to sleep. I’ve got to work early in the morning.’ With these words he settled himself down and went to sleep.

  The night passed uneventfully, and next morning, after completing his toilet, he set off for school. He had just walked out of the doorway when he remembered something and, calling to Tealeaf to wait, turned back.

  ‘Musk!’

  She came hurrying out.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘If Yun comes today, tell him not to make a nuisance of himself here again or I’ll report him to Her Old Ladyship and Sir Zheng.’

  ‘I will.’

  Bao-yu set off once more, and was on his way out when who should come bustling in but Jia Yun himself. When he saw Bao-yu he promptly saluted and said:

  ‘My heartiest congratulations, Uncle!’

  Bao-yu took this as a reference to the business contained in the previous day’s letter and replied curtly:

  ‘You tactless meddling fool! It makes no difference to you if there are things people care about…’

  ‘But Uncle!’ protested Yun with a smug smile. ‘If you don’t believe me, take a look for yourself. The crowds are outside the gate.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ snapped Bao-yu, the anger rising in his voice.

  At that moment a wave of shouting and cheering came wafting in from the street outside.

  ‘Hear that!’ exclaimed Jia Yun. ‘Now will you believe me?’

  Bao-yu was more perplexed than ever. He could distinguish a few words above the general din:

  ‘Have you people no manners? What do you mean by coming here and making this racket?’

  Another voice replied:

  ‘The hand that raised Sir Jia has given us the privilege of bearing tidings other houses would be only too glad of receiving!’

  Bao-yu understood at last that his father’s promotion had been officially announced, and that the din outside the gates was coming from a crowd of professional well-wishers (their joy made the more vocal by the expectation of a tip). He was delighted and hurried on out of the Garden, only to be cornered again by Jia Yun.

  ‘Happy Uncle? Needless to say the joy would be doubled if we could only announce your betrothal as well…’

  Bao-yu blushed fiercely and spat in Jia Yun’s face:

/>   ‘Ugh! Why don’t you clear off? You make me sick!’

  Jia Yun blushed too.

  ‘What’s this? I can see you’re a little…’

  ‘A little what?’ asked Bao-yu angrily.

  But Jia Yun’s nerve failed him and he left his remark unfinished.

  Bao-yu hurried off to school, where Dai-ru greeted him with a smile:

  ‘I have just heard the good news, my boy. I must say, I am somewhat surprised to see you here at all today.’

  ‘I thought I should report to you first, sir, before going to offer my congratulations,’ replied Bao-yu with a polite smile.

  ‘I see. Well, no need to attend class today. Take a day’s grace. But please try not to fritter it away in that garden of yours. At your age, though you may not be able to take an active part in family affairs, I am sure you would benefit greatly from the company of your older cousins.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Bao-yu returned home. As he was approaching the inner gate of Grandmother Jia’s apartment, he encountered Li Gui coming in the opposite direction.

  ‘I’m glad you’re back,’ said Li Gui, halting by his side with a smile. ‘I was on my way to school to fetch you.’

  ‘Who told you to?’ asked Bao-yu.

  ‘Her Old Ladyship sent someone round to your place,’ replied Li Gui, ‘but the maids said you had already gone to school, so she sent someone with instructions for me to arrange a few days off school for you. I hear they are having players over for the festivities. Anyway, thanks, you’ve saved me a journey.’

  Bao-yu went in, to find Grandmother Jia’s front courtyard overflowing with maids and serving-women, their loyal faces beaming with pleasure and excitement:

  ‘You’re late, Master Bao! You’d better hurry on in and congratulate Her Old Ladyship!’

  Bao-yu’s face lit up. When he entered the room, he found Grandmother Jia with Dai-yu and Xiang-yun sitting to her left and right up on the kang, while assembled down below were Ladies Xing and Wang, Tan-chun, Xi-chun, Li Wan, Xi-feng, Li Wan’s two cousins Wen and Qi, and Lady Xing’s niece Xing Xiu-yan. He noticed that Bao-chai, Bao-qin and Ying-chun were not there.

  Overjoyed to see such a gathering, Bao-yu offered his congratulations first to Grandmother Jia, then to his mother and Lady Xing, and then greeted the rest of the family. He turned to Dai-yu with a smile and said:

  ‘Are you quite recovered now, coz?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ replied Dai-yu, with a hint of a smile. ‘And you? I heard that you were not very well yourself.’

  ‘Yes, I had a sudden pain in my heart that night. It’s been better for quite a while, but I’ve been having to go to school every day, so I haven’t been able to come over and see you.’

  Before he had even finished speaking, Dai-yu turned away to talk to Tan-chun. Xi-feng was standing near them and observed sarcastically:

  ‘I thought you two were meant to be inseparable? The way you talk anyone would think you were strangers. Still, I suppose

  His to honour,

  Hers to obey…’

  Everyone laughed. The colour flew into Dai-yu’s face and at first she was quite speechless with embarrassment. But thinking that some sort of reply was expected of her, she finally came out with:

  ‘Who’d expect you to understand…’ which seemed to amuse everyone even more.

  After a moment’s reflection Xi-feng realized that her joke had been in rather poor taste, and she was about to introduce a fresh topic of conversation, in an attempt to clear the air a little, when Bao-yu suddenly turned to Dai-yu and said:

  ‘Coz, do you know what that tactless, blundering fool Yun tried to…’ But whatever it was he had been going to say, he thought better of it. There was a puzzled laugh from the others. Someone said:

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Dai-yu was as much in the dark as they were and smiled awkwardly. Bao-yu extricated himself by launching off at another tangent:

  ‘I heard just now that someone is planning to send over some players. When are they coming, does anyone know?’

  They all stared at him in amazement and laughed. It was Xi-feng who replied:

  ‘You’re the one who’s heard. Why ask us?’

  ‘I’d better go and check,’ he said promptly.

  ‘Now don’t go getting into mischief out there,’ warned his grandmother. ‘You don’t want the crowd to make fun of you, do you? And remember, this is a very special day for your father, and if he comes home and finds you gadding about, there’s sure to be trouble.’

  ‘Yes, Grannie,’ replied Bao-yu, and effected his escape.

  When he had gone, Grandmother Jia asked Xi-feng:

  ‘What’s all this about sending players?’

  ‘Uncle Wang Zi-sheng’s family,’ replied Xi-feng, ‘want to do something to congratulate you and Uncle Zheng and Auntie. They’ve hired a new troupe of young actors specially, and they say that the day after tomorrow is a lucky one.’

  Xi-feng laughed:

  ‘And it is too, in more ways than one.’

  She looked at Dai-yu and smiled. Dai-yu smiled shyly back.

  ‘Of course!’ exclaimed Lady Wang. ‘It’s our niece’s birthday!’

  When Grandmother Jia had taken in what they were saying she laughed out loud:

  ‘It just goes to show how absent-minded I’m getting in my old age! It’s a good thing I’ve Secretary Feng here to keep me organized. Well, what could be better: they can celebrate your Uncle Zheng’s promotion, and we can celebrate your birthday at the same time!’

  This had everyone laughing, and it was proposed and carried unanimously that with such an apt way of putting things, the old lady positively had a right to enjoy such prodigious good fortune.

  Bao-yu had returned in time to hear about the party and was beside himself with joy. They all sat down to lunch in an atmosphere of great excitement. After lunch, Jia Zheng returned from giving thanks at court, and having performed his ceremonial prostrations in the family shrine, came in to kotow before Grandmother Jia. He rose to his feet and said a few words before leaving to pay various official calls.

  Over the next day or two there was constant bustle and confusion, as a stream of relatives besieged Rong-guo House. Horses and carriages thronged the main entrance, and in every corner important-looking gentlemen in starched official hats trimmed with sable sat waiting their turn. Truly:

  Where flowers bloom,

  Bees and butterflies abound;

  Skies and oceans swell

  When the moon is round.

  *

  Two days later, the players, on the instructions of Wang Zi-sheng and other relations, arrived early in the morning to set up their mobile stage in Grandmother Jia’s courtyard, facing the main hall. The Jia menfolk, in full dress, entertained their relatives in the open courtyard, where more than ten tables had been laid. A special glass play-viewing screen had been put up between the courtyard and the gallery overlooking it from the north side, and four tables had been laid in the enclosed space, to give the ladies a chance of seeing the plays, and particularly for Grandmother Jia’s benefit (as she was more enthusiastic about the whole venture than anyone else). Aunt Xue was installed at the head of the table of honour, with her sister Lady Wang and her niece Bao-qin, while Grandmother Jia sat at the head of the table opposite with Lady Xing and her niece Xiu-yan. The two remaining tables were still empty, and Grandmother Jia sent word for the girls to hurry up.

  Presently Dai-yu arrived, ushered in by Xi-feng and a convoy of maids. She had chosen one or two of her newer things to wear, and as she came into the enclosure she looked exactly like the Goddess of the Moon descending to Earth. She greeted Grandmother Jia and her aunts with a shy smile, and Xiang-yun and the two Li sisters asked her to sit at the head of their table. Her polite refusals were soon over-ruled by Grandmother Jia:

  ‘Go on, you must, dear. After all, this is your day too!’

  ‘Really?’ exclaimed Aunt Xue, rising to her
feet. ‘Is Miss Lin celebrating something today as well?’

  Grandmother Jia laughed:

  ‘It’s her birthday!’

  ‘Oh goodness, I quite forgot! How awful of me!’ Aunt Xue went up to Dai-yu: ‘I’m so sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me for being so forgetful. I must ask Bao-qin to call on you later and wish you happy returns properly.’

  ‘Please don’t go to such trouble on my account,’ murmured Dai-yu with a smile. She looked around her as they all sat down, and noticed that Bao-chai had not come.

  ‘I hope Cousin Chai isn’t ill or anything. Why couldn’t she come today?’

  ‘She was going to,’ replied Aunt Xue. ‘But we needed someone to look after things at home, so in the end she had to stay behind.’

  Dai-yu flushed and said with a slightly puzzled smile:

  ‘Surely now that Cousin Pan’s married there’s no need for her to stay at home? She probably didn’t feel in the mood for all the noise and excitement. I’m sorry she didn’t come. I miss her such a lot.’

  Aunt Xue smiled:

  ‘How very sweet of you, dear. She thinks of you all a great deal too. In a day or two I must tell her to come over and have a chat.’

  The maids were already pouring wine and setting out dishes on the tables, while outside in the courtyard the show had begun. It opened, predictably enough, with a couple of festive pieces. The third selection, however, turned out to be something of a novelty. A chorus of Golden Pages and Jade Maidens came onto the stage, fairy streamers fluttering and flags aloft, to reveal in their midst a gorgeously attired lady, her head draped in black, her costume shimmering with the celestial hues of the Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Jacket. She (or rather he, for the part was played by a female impersonator) sang a short aria and then left the stage.

  None of the family could identify the piece at all, but they overheard one of the guests saying:

  ‘That was “The Transfiguration”, from one of their latest productions, “The Palace of Pearls”. It tells the story of Chang E, who comes down to earth from her palace in the moon and is about to give her hand to her mortal lover when the Goddess of Mercy opens her eyes to the truth, and she dies before the marriage can take place. In that scene, she is being wafted up to the moon. Didn’t you catch the words of her aria?