The Debt of Tears

  Earlier Dai-yu had been too faint and overwrought to examine the contents of her spittoon. But now Xiang-yun’s question reawakened her suspicions. Her heart sank as she turned to look. Tan-chun tried to cover up for Xiang-yun:

  That only means you’ve got some inflammation on your lungs, and have brought a little up. It’s quite common. Yun’s so pathetic the way she goes on about the slightest thing!’

  Xiang-yun blushed and wished she had never opened her mouth. Tan-chun could see how low Dai-yu’s spirits were, and how tired she was. She rose to leave:

  ‘You must rest and build up your strength. We’ll leave you now and call back again later.’

  Thank you both for thinking of me.’

  ‘Mind you look after Miss Lin properly now, Nightingale.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Tan-chun.’

  They were about to leave, when the hushed atmosphere was rudely disturbed by a voice shouting outside. But if you wish to learn whose voice it was, you must turn to the next chapter.

  Chapter 83

  An Indisposition in the Imperial Bedchamber calls for a Family Visitation

  While insubordination in the inner apartments reveals Bao-chai’s long-suffering nature

  It was told in our last chapter how Dai-yu’s visitors, who were on the point of leaving, heard a voice outside the window crying:

  ‘What’s a little trouble-maker like you doing here in the garden anyway? You’re nothing but a nuisance!’

  Dai-yu immediately let out a great cry:

  ‘I can’t stay here any longer!’

  She rolled her eyes and gestured with one hand in the direction of the window.

  The truth is that after all this time, despite Grandmother Jia’s constant love and protection, Dai-yu still suffered from an acute sense of insecurity, of being an ‘outsider in the Garden’. On this occasion, incredible though it may seem, she had instinctively taken herself to be the target of the old woman’s abuse (for the voice was that of an old serving-woman), and had immediately set about reconstructing the ‘plot’ in her mind: someone, taking advantage of the fact that she was an orphan, had sent this woman to insult her in public. She was being persecuted! The sense of injury, the unfairness of it, were more than she could bear. Another fit of sobbing left her unconscious.

  ‘What’s the matter, Miss?’ Nightingale was in tears herself. ‘Please wake up!’

  Tan-chun also called out in an effort to rouse her, and eventually Dai-yu came round. She could not speak, and her only explanation was another gesture towards the window. Tan-chun understood. She opened the door and went outside, to discover the old woman, with a stick in her hand, chasing a scruffy little maid.

  ‘I’m trying to get on with my gardening,’ she was grumbling. ‘You’ve no business to be here. Just wait till we get home and I get my hands on you! I’ll learn you!’

  The little girl merely cocked her head, stuck a finger in her mouth and stared at the old woman with a cheeky grin.

  ‘Have you both taken leave of your senses?’ exclaimed Tan-chun severely. ‘How dare you use language like that here?’

  When the old woman saw who it was, she pulled herself up smartly and answered with her most ingratiating smile:

  ‘It’s my daughter’s girl here, Miss Tan-chun. She would follow me over you see, and I knew she’d only be a nuisance so I was shooing her along home. Dearie me, if I’d stopped to think where I was I’d never have dared raise my voice I’m sure.’

  ‘That’s quite enough,’ said Tan-chun. ‘Off you go both of you. Miss Lin is not feeling very well today – so hurry up and go!’

  ‘Yes Miss! Straightaway Miss!’ The old girl bustled off and her granddaughter went running after her.

  Returning indoors, Tan-chun found Xiang-yun holding Dai-yu’s hand and crying helplessly, while Nightingale was supporting her mistress with one hand and using her free hand to rub her chest. Slowly the life returned to Dai-yu’s eyes and she looked up. Tan-chun smiled kindly:

  ‘Did you take offence at what that old woman said?’

  Dai-yu answered with a feeble shake of the head.

  ‘It was her own granddaughter she was shouting at,’ Tan-chun went on to explain. ‘She told me all about it. People like her are the end. They never know when to hold their tongue.’

  Dai-yu sighed and held Tan-chun’s hand.

  ‘Oh Tan…’ she cried feebly, but could say no more.

  ‘There, you mustn’t start worrying,’ said Tan-chun. ‘We’re cousins and cousins should stick by one another. That’s why I came to see you. Besides, I know you’re a bit short of help. Listen, all you have to do is take your medicine like a good girl and look on the bright side a bit, and you’ll soon start to build up your strength. And then we can start having meetings of our poetry club again, and everything will be fine.’

  ‘Tan’s right,’ echoed Xiang-yun. ‘Won’t that be fun!’

  ‘Oh, if only you knew!’ sobbed Dai-yu. ‘I feel so weak. I don’t think I’ll ever pull through.’

  ‘That’s no way to talk,’ said Tan-chun. ‘We all fall ill, we all have our troubles. There’s no cause for you to be so pessimistic. Be sensible and have a good rest now. Yun and I had better go over to Grannie’s. We’ll come and see you again later. If there’s anything you need, tell Nightingale and I’ll send it over for you.’

  ‘Tan, when you see Grannie, you won’t say I’m very ill, will you? Please!’ Tears were streaming down Dai-yu’s face as she spoke. ‘Just curtsey for me and say I’m not feeling very well but it’s nothing serious and she’s not to worry.’

  ‘Of course. Now don’t fuss. Just rest and get better.’

  Tan-chun and Xiang-yun went on their way.

  *

  When they had gone, Nightingale settled Dai-yu down once more. She left all the fetching and carrying to Snowgoose, and herself stayed constantly at Dai-yu’s side, trying her best not to betray her own distress by shedding any more tears. Dai-yu closed her eyes and lay still for a while. But sleep would not come. The garden outside, which had always been such a haven of quiet and solitude, now seemed alive with sounds – the wind, insects buzzing, birds chattering, the fall of human footsteps, children crying faintly in the distance – all of which drifted in through the window and set her nerves on edge. She told Nightingale to let down the curtains around her bed.

  Presently Snowgoose appeared, carrying before her in both hands a bowl of Bird’s Nest Soup, which she gave to Nightingale, who whispered through the curtains:

  ‘Would you like some soup, Miss?’

  A faint ‘yes’ was heard from inside, and handing the soup back to Snowgoose for the moment, Nightingale climbed up and helped Dai-yu into a comfortable sitting position. Turning to take the bowl again, she first tasted the contents herself, then held it carefully to Dai-yu’s lips, while supporting her firmly round the shoulder with one arm. Dai-yu opened her eyes feebly, took a couple of sips, then showed by a shake of her head that she could not manage any more. Nightingale handed the bowl back to Snowgoose and gently settled her down again.

  For a few minutes all was quiet and Dai-yu seemed more peaceful. Then a whisper was heard from outside the window:

  ‘Is Nightingale in?’

  Snowgoose hurried out. It was Aroma.

  ‘Come in,’ she whispered.

  ‘How’s Miss Lin?’ asked Aroma.

  They walked together towards the doorway and Aroma listened aghast as Snowgoose described what had happened that morning and the preceding night.

  ‘No wonder!’ she exclaimed. ‘Kingfisher said something of the sort just now and had Master Bao so worried that he sent me straight round to find out how she is.’

  As they were talking, Nightingale lifted the portière and beckoned to Aroma, who tiptoed into the room:

  ‘Is Miss Lin asleep?’

  Nightingale nodded. ‘Has Snowgoose told you?’ she added.

  Aroma nodded, then frowned and said:

  This is dreadful! Master Bao h
ad me worried to death last night too!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Nightingale. Aroma explained:

  ‘When he went to sleep in the evening he seemed perfectly all right. But in the middle of the night he started screaming his head off, first about a pain in his heart, and then about being stabbed by a knife – he was quite delirious, and didn’t quieten down till after the dawn watch. Wouldn’t you have been scared? He’s not allowed to go to school today, and the doctor has been sent for to prescribe something for him.’

  While they were talking, Dai-yu could be heard coughing again from inside the bed-curtains, and Nightingale hurried over to hold up the spittoon. Dai-yu opened her eyes feebly:

  ‘Who’s that you’re talking to?’

  ‘It’s Aroma, Miss. She’s come to ask how you are.’

  Aroma was already standing close by the bed. Dai-yu told Nightingale to help her up and gestured to Aroma to sit down on the bed. Aroma perched on the edge and said in her best bedside manner:

  ‘Are you sure you ought to be sitting up like this, Miss?’

  ‘Why not?’ replied Dai-yu. ‘Stop behaving as if it’s the end of the world, will you? Who was that you mentioned just now, with a pain in the heart during the night?’

  ‘Oh that wasn’t real!’ said Aroma. ‘That was just a nightmare Master Bao had.’

  ‘It’s very thoughtful of Aroma,’ thought Dai-yu to herself. ‘I know she’s only trying to stop me from worrying. But I must know!’ She tried again, more insistently this time:

  ‘What sort of a nightmare? What did he say?’

  ‘Oh, he didn’t say anything,’ lied Aroma.

  Dai-yu nodded pensively and fell silent for a minute or two. Then she sighed again and said:

  ‘You’re none of you to mention my illness to Master Bao. It might affect his work and cause trouble with Sir Zheng.’

  ‘Of course we won’t, Miss,’ Aroma reassured her. ‘Now you lie down and rest.’

  Dai-yu nodded and asked Nightingale to settle her down again. Aroma stayed a little longer by her bedside, said a few more comforting words and then left. When she arrived back at Green Delights she reported that Dai-yu was feeling a little uncomfortable but that her condition was not a serious one, and thereby succeeded in setting Bao-yu’s mind at rest.

  *

  Tan-chun and Xiang-yun, on leaving the Naiad’s House, made their way together to Grandmother Jia’s apartment. As they went, Tan-chun warned Xiang-yun:

  ‘When we see Grandmother, please be more careful what you say, will you?’

  Xiang-yun nodded:

  ‘I will. I’m afraid just now I was too shocked by Dai’s state to think what I was doing.’

  They arrived at Grandmother Jia’s and Tan-chun mentioned Dai-yu’s illness. As she had predicted, the old lady was somewhat ruffled:

  ‘Dear oh dear! How illness and misfortune seem to pick on those two! Ever since Dai-yu was a little girl, it’s been one thing after another. Now that she’s grown up, it is time she learned to take better care of her health. She’s too highly strung, that’s her trouble.’

  No one dared say anything. She turned to Faithful:

  ‘The doctor’s coming in the morning to see Bao-yu. Tell them he’s to look in at Miss Lin’s afterwards.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Faithful went out to tell the serving-women, who passed on the instructions. Tan-chun and Xiang-yun stayed on at Grandmother Jia’s for dinner, and then returned to the Garden together.

  *

  Next day the doctor came to see Bao-yu. He pronounced that a dietary imbalance had brought on a slight chill, which would soon be put right by a mild dispersant. Lady Wang and Xi-feng sent the prescription over for Grandmother Jia to inspect, and at the same time sent someone ahead to the Naiad’s House to let them know the doctor was on his way. Nightingale tucked Dai-yu up in her quilt and let down the bed-curtains, while Snowgoose quickly tidied the room.

  Presently Jia Lian arrived with the doctor, announcing that as it was their regular practitioner there was no need for the maids to disappear. An old serving-woman raised the portière, Jia Lian ushered the doctor into Dai-yu’s room and the two men sat down. Jia Lian began:

  ‘Nightingale dear, please tell Doctor Wang what you can about your mistress’s illness.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ interposed the doctor. ‘Please allow me to take her pulses and reach my own diagnosis first. Then the young ladies may judge for themselves and correct me if anything I say conflicts with what they already know of her condition.’

  Nightingale arranged Dai-yu so that one of her hands was showing through the bed-curtains and resting on the diagnostic arm-rest, and gently slid back her bracelet and sleeve so as not to obstruct the pulse. The doctor sat for a long while feeling the pulses first of one hand, then of the other. When he had finished, he withdrew with Jia Lian to the outer room, where they both sat down.

  ‘The six pulses have an extremely taut quality,’ said the doctor, ‘and indicate an advanced morbid obstruction.’

  As he spoke, Nightingale appeared in the doorway. He turned towards her and said:

  ‘This condition should manifest itself in the following ways: dizzy spells, loss of appetite, frequent dreams, and fitful sleeping in the early hours; during the daytime a tendency to take offence for no reason and a generally nervous and apprehensive attitude towards other people. Some might attribute all these to a peculiarity of temperament, but they would be mistaken. They are organically related to a deficiency of Yin in the liver, with a concomitant diminution of cardiac vitality. Does my diagnosis accord with what you have observed?’

  Nightingale nodded, and turning to Jia Lian said: That is exactly how Miss Lin has been, sir.’

  ‘Good,’ said Doctor Wang, rising from his chair. ‘We may proceed.’

  Jia Lian escorted him out of the Garden and across to his study, where his pages had already laid out the requisite pink prescription form in readiness. Tea was served, then Doctor Wang took up the brush and wrote:

  DIAGNOSIS

  The six pulses are slow and taut. Prolonged morbid obstruction of the humoral flow.

  Left distal pulse weak. Diminution of cardiac vitality.

  Left median pulse strong and irregular. Hyperactivity of the liver (Wood).

  The hepatic humour, unable to disperse naturally, has encroached upwards on the spleen (Earth), with consequent loss of appetite. The extreme distemper has also caused a reversal of the elemental sequence, and the lungs (Metal) have certainly been damaged.

  Since humour cannot circulate, it has congealed into phlegm.

  Upsurge and expectoration of blood.

  TREATMENT

  1. Sedation of liver.

  2. Restoration of lungs.

  3. Fortification of both heart and spleen.

  The usual tonics are too violent in their action. For the present, I suggest my own Black Etbereal Essence, to be taken with Elixir Pneumoferriferum. Prescriptions for both humbly appended for esteemed approval.

  The doctor wrote out a prescription of seven items and an adjuvant to go with it. Jia Lian took the paper and glanced down the list.

  ‘I see you include Hare’s Ear in your prescription,’ he said. ‘Forgive me if I am wrong, but I thought that was ruled out in haematic eruptions?’

  ‘You must be thinking,’ replied Doctor Wang with a knowledgeable smile, ‘of its emetic properties, which, as is well known, contra-indicate this particular herb in cases of haemoptysis or epistaxis. But allow me to inform you that in preparation with Turtle’s Blood (as in my prescription), Hare’s Ear constitutes the only effective remedy we have for draining the humour of the Lesser Yang periphery of the gall-bladder. You see, the judicious admixture of Turtle’s Blood has the remarkable effect of inhibiting the emetic properties of Hare’s Ear, while enabling it to restore the hepatic Yin and check the phlogistic disturbance. In the words of the Ars Medicandi: “Obstructa obstruit, aperitque aperta.” And the – at first sight ?
?? paradoxical inclusion of Hare’s Ear is none other than the classic stratagem of the loyal counsellor befriending the usurper…’

  ‘I see,’ said Jia Lian, nodding appreciatively. ‘Thank you for enlightening me, Doctor Wang.’

  The doctor continued:

  ‘I should like the young lady to take two doses of the decoction, and then we shall see whether to alter the prescription, or perhaps try a new one altogether. I have another appointment, so I hope you’ll excuse me. I shall call again another day.’

  As Jia Lian saw him out, he asked:

  ‘And what have you prescribed for my cousin?’

  ‘Oh there’s very little the matter with him. Another dose of the dispersant I have prescribed should put him right.’

  With these words Doctor Wang stepped into his carriage.

  Jia Lian dispatched a servant to purchase the various drugs needed and went in to inform Xi-feng of Dai-yu’s diagnosis. They had not been talking long when Zhou Rui’s wife arrived to consult Xi-feng about a few trivial details of domestic management. After listening for a while, Jia Lian rose to leave.

  ‘Carry on, Mrs Zhou, I must be going.’

  With Jia Lian out of the room, and all remaining household business soon disposed of, Zhou Rui’s wife was able to come to the real purpose of her visit.

  ‘I’ve just come from Miss Lin’s, ma’am. I don’t like the look of it at all! There’s not a spot of colour left in her cheeks, and to touch her she’s nothing but skin and bones. I tried asking her what the matter was, but she wouldn’t speak, just sat there crying. Before I left, Nightingale asked if you could advance them a couple of months’ allowance. She said that with Miss Lin so ill, and her so proud anyway about not being beholden to a soul for anything, she’d made bold to ask about it herself. The medicine Miss Lin is taking goes on the general account of course, but she said they might be needing some extra money for incidental expenses. I said I’d mention it to you, ma’am.’

  Xi-feng lowered her head for a moment, then replied:

  ‘Oh very well, I’ll send her a few taels to be going on with. There’s no need to tell Miss Lin though. I’m against advances on principle. If one person starts well never hear the end of it. Do you remember the scene Mrs Zhao and Miss Tan-chun had about this very question? Besides, as you know, with so many expenses and so little coming in to pay for them, things are extremely tight at present.’