The Dreamer Wakes
‘Well – what about them?’ asked Grandmother Jia.
Xi-feng began mimicking again.
‘Here sits one, here stands t’other … One bends this-a-way, one turns that-a-way … One …’
Grandmother Jia interrupted her with a loud laugh.
‘For heaven’s sake get on with the story! If we have to watch you any more, it’ll be the death of us!’
‘Yes, do stop all this monkeying around,’ said Aunt Xue, laughing in spite of herself, ‘and get on with your story.’
Xi-feng began again:
‘Just now, I was passing through Cousin Bao-yu’s apartment when I heard the sound of laughter coming from inside; and wondering who it could be, I took a peep through a little hole in the paper casement. There was Cousin Chai sitting on the edge of the kang, with Bao-yu standing in front of her, holding her sleeve and imploring her: “Oh, Coz! Why won’t you speak to me? A word from you and I know I should be completely cured!” But she turned away and seemed bent on taking no notice of him whatsoever. He bowed to her, and then came still closer and took hold of her dress, which she tugged away from him at once. You know how unsteady on his feet Bao-yu has been since his last illness – well, with this tug he just tumbled right on top of her! She flushed and cried out: “You’re worse than ever! You haven’t a scrap of dignity!” ’
At this both Grandmother Jia and Aunt Xue burst out laughing again. Xi-feng went on:
‘Then Bao stood up and grinned. “At least I tripped you into speaking to me!” he said.’
‘My daughter certainly has her foibles,’ said Aunt Xue, with a good-humoured smile. ‘Now that they’re married there’s really nothing against a bit of harmless fun. If she could but see her cousin Lian and you, my dear, when the two of you get started …’
Xi-feng blushed.
‘Honestly!’ she protested laughingly. ‘I tell a story to raise your spirits and you turn it against me.’
‘Chai is quite right to behave as she does,’ put in Grandmother Jia with a chuckle. ‘I don’t deny that marriage should be based on affection; but there should always be a sense of proportion. I’m glad Chai sets such store by dignity, and it saddens me that Bao-yu should still be such a silly boy – though from some of the things you tell me it seems that he may be improving. Well – any more stories?’
‘Soon there will be no lack of them,’ replied Xi-feng. ‘When their marriage is consummated, and Bao-yu presents his mother-in-law with a grandchild …’
‘You monkey!’ exclaimed Grandmother Jia. ‘Thinking of your Cousin Lin’s death made us both feel sad, and it was thoughtful of you to want to cheer us up. But now you’re going too far. Would you have us forget her altogether? You’d better watch your step. She was never very fond of you while she was alive, and you’d be well advised not to go walking in the Garden alone after this, or her ghost may pounce on you and try to take its revenge!’
‘But she never bore a grudge against me,’ countered Xi-feng with a smile. ‘It was Bao-yu she cursed with her dying breath.’
Grandmother Jia and Aunt Xue took this to be another of her witticisms, and ignored it:
‘Don’t talk such nonsense. Now off you go and find someone to choose a lucky day for your cousin Bao’s party.’
‘Yes, Grannie.’ After a little more chat Xi-feng went on her way. She despatched one of the servants to consult the almanac; and on the chosen day, the family duly celebrated the (formal if not actual) ‘consummation’ of Bao-yu and Bao-chai’s marriage, and entertained their guests with a banquet and plays. But of this our narrative omits further details.
It turns instead to the convalescent Bao-yu.
From time to time Bao-chai would pick up one of his books and engage him in conversation about it, and on these occasions Bao-yu was sufficiently compos mentis to sustain a desultory dialogue of sorts. But his mind was unquestionably duller than it had been, a deterioration he himself was unable to account for. Bao-chai argued with herself that the cause lay in the loss of his Magic Jade, but Aroma was less philosophical and frequently took him to task:
‘Where have your wits fled to? If only it was that old weakness of yours that had left you! But you seem to have kept that and lost your wits instead!’
Bao-yu did not let remarks such as this rile him, and responded with an inane grin. If he ever showed signs of letting his wild streak get the better of him, he allowed himself to be restrained by Bao-chai’s good sense, while as time went by Aroma rebuked him less and less, and confined herself instead to ministering to his practical needs. His other maids had always respected Bao-chai’s quiet, demure manner, and now that she was their mistress her gentle and friendly nature won their willing obedience.
Beneath this apparent calm, Bao-yu continued to feel a deep sense of restlessness, and in particular a recurring desire to visit the Garden. Grandmother Jia and the other ladies were afraid that such an expedition might expose him to a chill or fever of some kind, and that the Garden’s surroundings would have too gloomy and depressing an effect on his spirits. Dai-yu’s coffin was already lodged in a temple outside the city walls, but the Naiad’s House and the memories associated with it would be sure to cause him renewed distress and bring on a relapse. So they forbade him to go. Most of the Garden was now deserted. Of Bao-yu’s cousins, Bao-qin had already moved out to live with Aunt Xue, while Shi Xiang-yun had gone home on her uncle’s return to the capital, and seldom visited the Jias now that the date of her own wedding had been settled. She had been present on Bao-yu’s wedding-day and more recently on the day of the party, but on both occasions she had stayed with Grandmother Jia; and her awareness that Bao-yu was now a married man, and she herself betrothed, had inhibited her from indulging in any of her old high-spirited banter. When she saw the newly wed couple, she talked to Bao-chai but scarcely said more than a polite ‘hello’ to Bao-yu. Xing Xiu-yan had moved in with her aunt Lady Xing after Ying-chun’s marriage, while the two Li sisters only ever visited the Garden with their mother, and then would stay for a couple of days with Li Wan before returning home. The only Garden residents proper were now Li Wan, Tan-chun and Xi-chun. Grandmother Jia had wanted the three of them to move in with her, but with Yuan-chun’s death and all the subsequent family excitements of one kind or another, she had not been able to find time to make the necessary arrangements; and now the weather was growing warmer daily and the Garden was beginning to seem less dreary, so she decided to leave things as they were until the autumn. But we anticipate.
Jia Zheng had set off for his new provincial posting, travelling by day and resting by night, accompanied by the various aides and secretaries he had engaged before his departure. On his arrival at the provincial capital, he reported to his superiors and immediately proceeded to his new yamen to take ceremonial possession of the official seal and to assume office. His first administrative action was to take stock of the grain lying in all the granaries of the sub-prefectures and shires under his jurisdiction.
Jia Zheng’s previous experience as an official had been mainly in the capital, and had been restricted moreover to the theoretical aspects of the metropolitan bureaucracy. His one provincial appointment had been as an Examiner, and his responsibilities then were of a purely academic nature. He therefore had no first-hand knowledge of the practicalities of provincial administration, let alone of the forms of corruption widely tolerated – the cuts taken by middlemen, or the extortion practised on the ignorant peasantry, to mention but two. He knew of such things in theory only, as evils to be avoided, and was adamant that his would be an incorruptible administration. On arrival he consulted with his private secretaries and issued a public notice strictly forbidding malpractice of any kind, and announcing that any instance of it would be investigated and reported to the authorities.
At first the locally employed clerks were overawed and tried their utmost to ingratiate themselves with the new incumbent, only to discover that the man they were dealing with was totally inflexible. As for Jia Zh
eng’s family servants, they, after years of unprofitable service in the capital, had rubbed their hands with glee at the news of their master’s provincial posting and, on the strength of their anticipated profits, had borrowed money to buy clothes and equip themselves in a manner befitting their new station. Money would fall into the laps of a Grain Intendant’s staff. Or so they had assumed. But now all their plans were being foiled by their master’s blind insistence on enforcing the regulations to the last letter and by his obstinate refusal to accept a single one of the bribes offered by the sub-prefects and magistrates.
The porter, head clerk and other local staff in the yamen made a few mental calculations:
‘If this lasts another fortnight, we’ll have pawned all our clothes, and our creditors will start to press for payment; what will we do then? There’s good money staring us in the face out there, if we could only lay our hands on it!’
When these locals voiced their concern to the newly arrived staff whom Jia Zheng had personally recruited in the capital, they met with an indignant response:
‘You haven’t staked your last penny on this venture – we’re the ones that should be complaining, not you! We paid money to get our jobs, and here we are after more than a month with nothing to show for it. At this rate we won’t break even. We might as well hand in our notices tomorrow.’
Which is exactly what they did. The following day they went in a body and tendered their resignations to a bewildered Jia Zheng, who commented somewhat naїvely:
‘Very well. You were free to come. You are free to return. If you find it uncongenial here, please feel under no obligation to stay.’
This group went grumbling on their way. The family servants next held a council of war among themselves:
‘It’s all very well for them. They’re free to go. But what about us? We can’t leave even if we want to.’
Among these servants was a porter by the name of Li Shi (Ten), who soon took a prominent part in the debate.
‘You chickens!’ he scoffed. ‘Don’t be so helpless! While that “contract” mob was here I wasn’t going to say anything; but now that they’ve pushed off, I don’t mind showing you a trick or two! I’ll soon have that Master of ours eating out of the palm of my hand! But you’ve got to back me up. Stick together, and we can all go home with our pockets full. Of course, if you’d rather keep out of this, that’s all right by me. I can manage. I can get the better of you lot any day!’
‘Come on, Ten old mate! We’re depending on you!’ groaned the others. ‘You know you’re the one the Master trusts. If you won’t help us, we’re done for!’
‘All right. But you’ve got to trust me too. Don’t leave me to do all the dirty work and bring in the money, and then turn on me and say I’ve taken more than my fair share.’
‘No chance of that. You know we’re broke. Anything’s better than nothing.’
As they were speaking, the granary clerk came in, and asked for Mr Zhou. Ten, who was lounging complacently in a chair with one foot propped on his other knee and his chest puffed out, asked him what his business was with Mr Zhou. The clerk stood to attention with his hands at his sides and smiled uneasily.
‘The new Intendant has been in office more than a month now,’ he replied, ‘but not a single granary’s been opened to take in the tax-grain. The local magistrates have been made to feel uncomfortable by all his stern pronouncements. They’ve been quite put off from entering into the usual – how shall I put it? – negotiations. Now, if the grain is not going to be taken in and delivered on time, what’s the point of your being here at all?’
‘What a ridiculous question!’ said Ten. ‘Our Master the Intendant is a man of his word. Of course he’ll meet his commitments. As a matter of fact he was about to issue the Reminders a couple of days ago, but on my advice they were postponed. Now, tell me what you really wanted to see Zhou about?’
Clerk: ‘Oh, that was it … the Reminders. Nothing else …’
Ten: ‘Nonsense! Don’t try to fool me with that, my lad! And don’t come sneaking in here with any nifty little plans, or I’ll tell the Intendant to beat you and take your job away.’
Clerk: ‘My family has served in this yamen for three generations; I’ve got a decent position here, I manage to make an honest living. I don’t mind going by the book until this Intendant gets promoted and moved somewhere else. I’m not like that beggarly lot who’ve just left.’
He took formal leave of Li Ten:
‘I’d best be going now, sir.’
Ten stood up, all smiles:
‘Come on now, can’t you take a joke? No need to get rattled by a few words …’
‘I’m not rattled. I just don’t want to say anything that might compromise you, sir.’
Ten walked over to the clerk and took him confidentially by the hand:
‘Tell me, what’s your name?’
‘Zhan Hui,* sir,’ replied the clerk nervously. ‘I spent quite a few years up in the capital myself when I was a boy.’
‘Mr Zhan! Why, of course! I’ve heard of you. Come now, we’re all in this together. If there’s something you want to talk to me about, why not drop by this evening and we can have a nice little chat.’
‘We all know how capable you are, Mr Li,’ replied the clerk aloud, with a sigh of relief. ‘Why, you really had me worried there for a minute!’
He left amidst general laughter.
That evening Zhan returned and he and Li were closeted together deep into the night. The next day, when Li found some pretext to call on Jia Zheng, and hinted at some of the ‘measures’ he had in mind, predictably he received a stern reprimand.
The following day, Jia Zheng was due to pay a formal visit in the town, and he issued orders for his retinue to make themselves ready. A considerable interval of time elapsed, and the gong in the inner yamen was struck three times, but still there was no sign of anyone to beat the drum in the main hall. Someone was finally found to perform this duty, and Jia Zheng came walking out of his private chambers with measured stride, to find that there was only one attendant waiting for him, instead of the usual team of runners and criers. Resolving not to pursue this dereliction for the time being, Jia Zheng stepped into the sedan at the foot of the terrace and waited for his chair-bearers. Another long interval elapsed before these had all assembled and were ready to carry him out of the yamen, and the Intendant’s solemn departure was then announced by a single feeble report from the cannon, while a grand total of two members of the ceremonial band, a drummer and a bugler, put in a forlorn appearance on the bandstand. Jia Zheng was now extremely annoyed.
‘Things have been in perfect order until today. What’s the meaning of this shambles?’
His insignia-bearers, such as they were, straggled across the road in an unseemly fashion. Jia Zheng concluded his visit as best he could, and immediately upon his return summoned the defaulters and threatened them with a flogging. Some pleaded that they had been unable to attend because they lacked the requisite headgear, others that they had been forced to pawn their uniforms, while some claimed that they had not eaten for three days and were therefore too weak for heavy carrying duties. Jia Zheng vented his anger on them verbally, ordered a couple of them to be flogged and left it at that.
The next day the chief cook came asking for more money, and Jia Zheng had to provide him with some of the personal reserve he had brought with him from home. From then on, one such incident followed another and it soon became apparent that most departments of his provincial yamen were in total disarray. In the end he was driven to send for Porter Li, and asked him outright:
‘What’s come over my staff? You must try to instil some sense of discipline in them. And another thing: my reserve of cash has run out, and it will be some time before my salary arrives from the Provincial Treasurer’s office, so we shall have to send home for extra funds.’
‘I’ve had words with the staff almost every day, sir,’ replied Li. ‘But I can’t do a thing with them. Th
ey seem to have lost all interest in their work. Gone to pieces, sir. As for the money, may I ask how much you will be requiring? I understand the Viceroy has a birthday coming up in a few days’ time, and the Prefects and Circuit Intendants are mostly giving four-figure donations. How much will you be sending, sir?’
Jia Zheng: ‘You should have told me of this earlier.’
Li: ‘With respect, sir, it’s the fault of the local mandarins. They’ve not kept you informed. It’s because we’re new here and haven’t made any effort to get to know them. It wouldn’t surprise me if they had an eye on your job and were even hoping you would fail to attend the Viceroy’s birthday altogether, sir …’
Jia Zheng: ‘That’s preposterous! I was appointed by His Majesty. I am hardly to be relieved of my post for not attending the Viceroy’s birthday!’
Li (with a smile): ‘That’s all very well, sir. The trouble is that with the capital such a long way off, His Majesty relies on the Viceroy for all his information. If the Viceroy speaks ill of a person, there’s not much hope of that person being able to defend himself, whatever the truth might be. Now I’m sure Her Old Ladyship and Their Ladyships want to see you do well for yourself here …’
Jia Zheng began to see what he was driving at:
‘Why couldn’t you have said all this before?’
Li: ‘At first I didn’t dare, sir. Seeing that you asked me, it would have been wrong of me not to speak up. But I’m sure what I’ve got to say is only going to make you angry.’
Jia Zheng: ‘Not if it is reasonable. Go on.’
Li: ‘Well, sir: the truth of the matter is that the staff in a Grain Intendant’s yamen expect to make a bit on the side. Your clerks and runners have all paid money for their jobs. They’ve got families to look after and livings to earn. And so far as they’re concerned, sir, since you’ve been here, all you’ve done is set the local people grumbling.’
Jia Zheng: ‘What do you mean? Grumbling about what?’
Li: ‘The way the locals see it is quite simple. Officials all behave like that when they first arrive. The stricter they sound, the more certain it is that they’re on the squeeze, trying to browbeat the mandarins working in the district. When the time comes for the tax-grain to be collected, the yamen staff will repeat your instructions, they’ll swear that they’re not allowed to take a penny; and it will only mean a lot of unnecessary trouble and delay for the country people, who’d much rather have things the old way – pay up a bit and get the whole thing over and done with as quickly as possible. So, in short, instead of speaking well of you, they just complain that you haven’t understood their situation.