‘Who is this Bodhisattva of the Scattered Flowers?’ she asked the nun. ‘How is it that he has the power to avert misfortune and keep evil spirits at bay?’
Perfecta could sense that a seed had been sown.
‘Since you have asked, dear lady,’ she replied, ‘allow me to tell you a little about this Saint of ours. His story is an ancient and well-attested one, full of miraculous events. Born in the Land of Giant Trees in the Western Paradise, of humble parents who hewed wood for a living, the Bodhisattva came into the world with three horns on his head and four eyes in his forehead. He was three feet tall at birth, with arms so long that his hands reached the ground. His parents thought him to be the incarnation of some monstrous spirit, and abandoned him on an icy mountainside. But, unbeknown to them, this mountain was the haunt of a magic monkey, who used to come there hunting for food. On one of his excursions he discovered the child and noticed that from the tip of his head there emanated a white aura that streamed up towards Heaven, causing tigers and wolves to keep their distance.
‘The monkey realized that this was someone very special indeed, and he carried the Bodhisattva-child home to his cave and reared him. The boy, so the monkey soon discovered, was endowed with prodigious innate powers of Perception, and with an intuitive ability to expound the Mysteries of Zen. He would engage the monkey in daily philosophical discussions and the two of them would practise meditation together. So wonderful were his words that at the sound of them the sky would be filled with an abundance of scattered flowers. After a thousand years had passed, he ascended into Heaven. The spot where he expounded the sutras, the Precinct of the Scattered Flowers, as it is called, can be seen on the hillside to this very day. Every prayer uttered there has proved efficacious. Many a miracle has been performed, many a soul delivered from its afflictions. In due time men built a temple there, and fashioned a statue of the Saint, before which they make offerings.’
‘But what proof is there that any of this is true?’ asked Xi-feng.
‘Still sceptical, ma’am? What proof of that sort can there be, of a Living Buddha? But consider: if it were all a mere fabrication, it might have fooled one or two, but it could hardly have fooled the multitudes of intelligent men and women who have put their faith in him over the ages. The unbroken incense-offerings of believers, and the miracles wrought, testify to the enduring power of our religion and serve continually to inspire our faith.’
Xi-feng was almost convinced.
‘In that case I shall visit you tomorrow and test it for myself. Do you have fortune-sticks at the temple? I should like to consult them. If they give me a plausible answer to my question, I shall embrace your faith.’
‘Our fortune-sticks are particularly efficacious, ma’am,’ said Perfecta. ‘Try them tomorrow and see for yourself.’
‘Why not wait until the day after?’ put in Grandmother Jia. ‘That will be the first of the month. Better to try then.’
Perfecta drank her tea and went on to visit Lady Wang, before returning to her Convent.
Xi-feng managed to struggle through the rest of that day and the next, and early in the morning of the first of the month she had her carriage made ready, and set out for the Convent of the Scattered Flowers, accompanied by Patience and a bevy of serving-women. Perfecta and the other nuns welcomed her, ushered her in and offered her tea, and then after she had washed her hands they all proceeded to the main hall of worship to burn incense. Xi-feng would not look up at the statues, but otherwise conducted herself like a devout believer, kowtowing and taking the tube of fortune-sticks from the altar. She prayed in silence, describing her encounter with the spirit and her chronic state of ill health, then shook the tube three times. There was a ‘whoosh!’ and one of the bamboo sticks shot out of the tube. Xi-feng kowtowed again and picked it up. It bore the inscription: ‘No. 33. Supreme Good Fortune.’ Perfecta promptly consulted the Divination Book and found under entry No. 33 the following line of verse, which she read aloud:
‘Wang Xi-feng comes home to rest, in finery arrayed.’
Xi-feng was astounded to hear her own name, and asked the nun:
‘Is there some historical person by the name of Wang Xi-feng?’
‘Surely, ma’am,’ replied Perfecta, ‘a lady of your wide knowledge has encountered the story of Wang Xi-feng of the Later Han dynasty and what befell him on his way to the examination?’
Zhou Rui’s wife was standing at Xi-feng’s side and added with a smile:
‘Why, that was the story the lady storyteller told at the Lantern Festival a couple of years ago. We asked her not to use your name as it was impolite.’
‘Of course,’ said Xi-feng with a laugh. ‘I forgot.’
She went on to read the rest of the text:
‘When twenty years away from home have passed,
In silks the wanderer returns at last.
The bee culls nectar from a hundred flowers;
Honey for some, but for himself a thankless task.
A traveller arrives.
News is delayed.
In litigation, success.
In matrimony, reconsideration.’
Xi-feng could not make much sense of it, and Perfecta hastened to expound:
‘My congratulations, ma’am! What an uncannily apt response on the part of the oracle! Since you have grown up here in the capital, you have never had a chance to visit your old home in Nanking. But now that Sir Zheng has received this provincial posting, he may well send for his family to join him and then, surely, you will “come home to rest, in finery arrayed”!’
As she spoke Perfecta copied down the text and gave it to one of the maids. Xi-feng was still only half-convinced by her interpretation. Perfecta set a vegetarian meal before her guest, but Xi-feng seemed loath to eat, and after a mouthful put down her chopsticks and rose to leave. She gave Perfecta a contribution ‘for incense’, and the nun, realizing that she could not persuade her to stay any longer, saw her out of the Convent.
When Xi-feng returned home, Grandmother Jia, Lady Wang and the others insisted on having a full report. She told one of the maids to recite the words of the divination, complete with the interpretation. The ladies were delighted:
‘Perhaps Sir Zheng is planning to send for us all! What a nice trip that would be!’
Any doubts Xi-feng still harboured about the favourable reading of the omen were dispelled by their unanimous acceptance of it.
Our story now turns to Bao-yu. On the day in question, after waking from his midday nap, he noticed that Bao-chai was out and was beginning to wonder where she might be, when he saw her come back into the room.
‘Where have you been?’ he asked. ‘You’ve been out a long time.’
‘I’ve been looking at Cousin Feng’s divination.’
Bao-yu was keen to hear the whole story. Bao-chai obliged; and when she had finished reciting the divination verse for him, she commented:
‘Everyone else says it’s a lucky omen, but personally I think there’s more to the words than meets the eye. “Comes home to rest, in finery arrayed.” Hm … We shall have to wait and see.’
‘There you go, sceptical as ever,’ quipped Bao-yu. ‘Forever seeking strange meanings. It must be a lucky saying; anyone can tell that. You would have some pet theory of your own. So what do you think it means?’
Bao-chai was about to elaborate, when a maid arrived to inform her that her presence was required at Lady Wang’s. To learn the reason for this summons, please read the next chapter.
Chapter 102
Illness descends upon the Jia family in Ning-guo House
And charms and holy water are used to exorcize Prospect Garden
Bao-chai went immediately to Lady Wang’s apartment.
‘As you know, Tan-chun is getting married,’ began Lady Wang, when Bao-chai had paid her respects. ‘You and Li Wan must have a word with her before she leaves, and try to cheer her up. She is your own cousin after all. She’s such a sensible girl, and I know how well
the two of you get along together. I understand that Bao-yu was most upset and started crying when he heard the news. You must talk him round too.
‘I’ve been too poorly recently to be able to do much myself, and Feng spends half her days laid up in bed. You’re a clever girl. From now on you’re going to have to accept a greater share of the family responsibilities. Don’t feel you must hold back all the time for fear of causing offence. In time the weight of this entire household will rest on your shoulders.’
‘Yes, Mother.’
Lady Wang continued:
‘There’s another thing. Feng came here with Cook Liu’s daughter yesterday and said she wanted her to fill the vacancy in your apartment.’
‘Yes, Mother. Patience brought her over to start today,’ said Bao-chai. ‘She said that you and Cousin Feng were in agreement about it.’
‘Yes. As a matter of fact it was Feng’s idea. I decided it was not worth making an issue of it and going against her wishes. But I feel I should warn you all the same, the girl doesn’t look altogether reliable to me. She could make trouble. A while ago I had one or two of Bao-yu’s more flirtatious maids dismissed – I’m sure you knew about the affair; it led to your going home to live with your mother. Now that you and Bao-yu are married, things are different of course. But I still feel I ought to mention it, so that you can keep an eye on her. Remember, Aroma is the only dependable maid in your apartment.’
‘Yes, Mother.’
Bao-chai stayed a little longer and then left. After dinner she visited Tan-chun and talked with her at some length, offering what comfort and advice she could. We need not describe their conversation in any detail.
The next day was Tan-chun’s day of departure and she came once more to bid a final farewell to Bao-yu. He found the parting a painful one, as was only to be expected. But when she spoke to him calmly and philosophically of her ‘obligations in life’, although at first he hung his head in silence, in the end he began to look a little more cheerful. Tan-chun was relieved that he seemed able to view her future in a less tragic and more enlightened manner; and after saying goodbye to the rest of the family, she climbed into her sedan and set off on the long journey that would take her by land and water to the South.
Prospect Garden, once home to such a distinguished little society of young ladies, had since the death of the Imperial Concubine been left to fall into gradual ruin. With Bao-yu’s marriage, Dai-yu’s death and the departure of Xiang-yun and Bao-qin, the number of residents was already sadly depleted. Then, when the cold weather set in, Li Wan, her cousins Li Qi and Li Wen, Xi-chun and Tan-chun had all moved out to their previous abodes and had only ever gathered together in the Garden to enjoy themselves on particularly fine days or moonlit nights. With Tan-chun no longer at home and Bao-yu still convalescing and confined indoors, there was scarcely anyone left to enjoy the Garden’s delights. It became a desolate place, its paths frequented only by the handful of caretakers whom duty still obliged to live there.
On the day of Tan-chun’s departure, You-shi had come across to Rong-guo House to see her off. It was getting late by the time she left for home, and she decided to save herself the trouble of taking a carriage by returning through the Garden, using the side gate that communicated with Ning-guo House. As she walked through the grounds she was forcibly struck by the aura of desolation that pervaded the place. The buildings were unchanged, but she noticed that a strip of land along the inside of the Garden wall had already been converted into some sort of vegetable plot. A deep sense of melancholy oppressed her spirit. When she reached home she immediately developed a fever, and though she fought it off for a couple of days eventually she had to retire to bed. During the daytime the fever was not unduly severe, but at night it became almost insupportable and she grew delirious and started babbling to herself. Cousin Zhen sent for a doctor at once, who pronounced that she had caught a chill, which had developed complications and had entered into the yang-ming stomach meridian. This accounted for her delirious babbling and hallucinations. She would recover once she had opened her bowels.
You-shi took two doses of the medicine the doctor prescribed, but showed no sign of improvement. If anything she became more deranged than before. Cousin Zhen was now seriously concerned and sent for Jia Rong:
‘Get hold of the names of some good doctors in town and send for one immediately. We must have a second opinion.’
‘But the doctor who came the other day is extremely well thought of,’ objected Jia Rong. ‘It seems to me that in Mother’s case medicine is of little use.’
‘How can you talk like that!’ exclaimed Cousin Zhen. ‘If we don’t give her medicine, what are we supposed to do? Just let her fade away?’
‘I didn’t say she couldn’t be cured,’ said Jia Rong. ‘What was going through my mind was this: when Mother went over to Rong-guo House the other day, she came back through the Garden. And the fever began as soon as she reached home. It could be that she encountered some evil spirit on the way and is now possessed. I happen to know of an excellent fortune-teller in town, by the name of Half-Immortal Mao. He hails from the South, and is something of a specialist in The Book of Changes. I think we should ask him for a consultation first. See if he can shed any light on the matter. If that gets us nowhere, then let’s by all means look for another doctor.’
Cousin Zhen agreed, and they sent for the fortune-teller at once. When he arrived, he and Jia Rong sat down together in the study and after drinking his tea Half-Immortal Mao began the consultation proper:
‘On what matter does my esteemed client wish me to consult the Changes?’
‘It concerns my mother,’ said Jia Rong. ‘She has fallen ill. Could you please seek some illumination from the Changes on her behalf?’
‘Very well,’ replied Mao. ‘First I shall require some clean water with which to wash my hands. Then, will you be so good as to light some incense, and to set up a small altar? And I shall proceed with the divination.’
The servants carried out these instructions, and Mao extracted the divining cylinder from within his gown, approached the altar, and after making a profound reverence began shaking the cylinder, intoning the following prayer:
‘In the name of the Supreme Ultimate, of the Yin and of the Yang, and of the Generative Powers of the Cosmos; in the name of the Holy Signs made manifest in the Great River, which embody the Myriad Transformations of the Universe, and of the Saints who in their wisdom leave no sincere request unheeded: here, in good faith, Mr Jia, on the occasion of his mother’s illness, devoutly beseeches the Four Sages, Fu Xi, King Wen, the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, to look down from above and vouchsafe an efficacious response to this his earnest supplication. If evil lies hidden, then bring the evil to light; if good, then show the good. First we ask to be told the Three Lines of the Lower Trigram.’
He turned the cylinder upside down and the coins fell onto the tray.
‘Ah! Most efficacious: for the Prime we have a Moving Yin.’
The second throw gave a Yang At Rest, the third another Moving Yin Picking up the coins, Half-Immortal Mao said:
‘The Lower Trigram has been communicated. Now let us ask to receive the Three Lines of the Upper Trigram, and thus complete the Hexagram.’
These fell as follows: Yang At Rest, Yin At Rest, Yang At Rest . Half-Immortal Mao replaced the cylinder and coins inside his gown, and sat down.
‘Pray be seated,’ he said. ‘Let us consider this in greater detail. We have here the sixty-fourth Hexagram, “Before Completion”: . The Line of most significance to you and to your generation is the Tertian, with Fire at the Seventh Branch Wu, and the Signature “Ruin”. This certainly indicates that Dire Misfortune lies in store. You have asked me to consult the Changes concerning your mother’s illness, and great attention should therefore be paid to the parental Prime, which contains the Signature “Spectre”, as does the Quintal. It would seem that your mother is indeed seriously afflicted. But all will still be for the best. The prese
nt misfortune is concatenated with Water at the First Branch Zi and at the Twelfth Branch Hai; but when this element wanes, with the Third Branch Yin comes Wood and thence Fire. The Signature “Offspring” at the Tertian also counteracts the Spectral influence, and with the regenerative effect of the continuing revolution of both the solar and lunar bodies, in two days the “Spectre” originally concatenated with Water at the First Branch Zi should be rendered void, and by the day Xu all will be well. But I see that the parental Prime contains further Spectral permutations. I fear your father may himself be afflicted. And your own personal Line has a severe concentration of “Ruin”. When Water reaches its zenith and Earth its nadir, be prepared for misfortune to strike.’
Mao sat back, thrusting his beard forward, as if to emphasize the authenticity of his prognosis.
At the beginning of this rigmarole it was all Jia Rong could do to keep a straight face. But gradually Mao impressed him as a man who knew what he was talking about, and when he went on to predict misfortune for Cousin Zhen, Jia Rong began to take him rather more seriously.
‘Your exposition is certainly very learned,’ he commented. ‘But could you, I wonder, be more precise as to the nature of the illness that is afflicting my mother?’
‘In the Hexagram,’ replied Mao, ‘Fire at the Seventh Branch Wu in the Prime changes to Water and is thus controlled. This would indicate some inner congestion in which both cold and heat are combined. But I am afraid a precise diagnosis lies beyond the limitations of even a more elaborate milfoil reading of the Changes. For that, you would have to cast a Six Cardinal horoscope.’
‘Is that branch of divination one with which you are also conversant?’ asked Jia Rong.
‘To a certain extent,’ replied Mao.
Jia Rong asked him to cast the horoscope, and wrote down the relevant Stems and Branches. Mao proceeded to adjust his Diviner’s Compass, setting the co-ordinates for the Heavenly Generals. The reading obtained was: ‘White Tiger’ at the Eleventh Branch Xu.