As she was speaking, Jia Lan came in.
‘It’s time you went to bed, Mama,’ he said. ‘The guests have been coming and going all day, and you must be worn out. It’s time you had a rest. I haven’t looked at my books at all these past few days. Today Grandmother said I can sleep at home. I’m so pleased, as it means I shall be able to do some work. Otherwise, by the time the mourning period is over, I shall have forgotten everything.’
‘You’re such a good boy!’ said his mother. ‘Of course you’re right to study. But today you should rest too. Wait until the procession’s over, then you can get down to your books again.’
‘If you’re going to sleep,’ replied Jia Lan, ‘I’ll go to bed too, and do some revision in bed.’
The servants were loud in his praises:
‘What a wonderful boy! So young, but so keen to make the most of the slightest opportunity to study! Not like his uncle. Mr Bao may be a married man, but he’s still as childish as ever. To see him these last few days, kneeling down in there with Sir Zheng – so awkward and wretched, itching for Sir Zheng to get up so that he could dash off to find Mrs Bao and start whispering to her about goodness knows what. Mrs Bao wouldn’t pay him any attention so he went and pestered Miss Bao-qin, and she avoided him, and Miss Xiu-yan wouldn’t talk to him either, and in the end Miss Xi-luan and Miss Si-jie were the only ones who would. They hung on his every word. It seems Mr Bao still has only one interest in life: fooling about with the young ladies. There’s not a shred of gratitude in him for the way Her Old Ladyship loved him all those years. He’s not a patch on Master Lan! You certainly have no cause to worry for the future, Mrs Zhu!’
‘He may be a good boy,’ commented Li Wan, ‘but he’s still so young. By the time he’s grown up, who knows what will have become of the family? Tell me, how has young Master Huan been behaving?’
‘Oh, he’s a regular disgrace!’ replied one of the servants. ‘A right little rascal, forever poking his nose into other people’s affairs and sneaking around the place. Even when he is supposed to be mourning, the moment one of the young ladies arrives, he starts peeping out from behind the screens.’
‘Huan’s getting quite grown up now,’ said Li Wan. ‘The other day I heard something about his being engaged. But it had to be put off because of the funeral. Now, no more gossiping: in such a big family as ours, with so much going on, we’ll never be able to set everything to rights. There was one other thing I wanted to ask you. Have carriages been arranged for the funeral procession the day after tomorrow?’
‘Mrs Lian has been so busy these past few days,’ came the reply. ‘She’s been in a terrible state. So far as we know, she hasn’t given any instructions about carriages yet. Yesterday we heard one of the men saying that Mr Lian has put Mr Qiang in charge of that. Apparently we haven’t enough carriages or drivers ourselves, and they’re planning to borrow from relations.’
Li Wan smiled sadly:
‘Are they sure our relations will agree to lend?’
‘You must be joking, ma‘am! Of course they’d lend us their carriages. The trouble is, they may all be using their own for the funeral, so it looks as if we may have to end up hiring all the same.’
‘We can hire carriages for the servants. But will we be able to find decent white funeral carriages for Their Ladyships?’ said Li Wan.
‘Lady Xing and both Mrs You and Mrs Rong from Ning-guo House are all without carriages of their own. How are they going to come if we don’t hire?’
Li Wan sighed.
‘I remember the day when we thought it a joke to see one of our relatives riding in a hired carriage! Now they’ll be laughing at us. Tomorrow you must tell your menfolk to make sure our carriages and horses are prepared well in advance. We don’t want any last-minute panics.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Li Wan’s servants went about their business.
Our story now turns to Shi Xiang-yun. Earlier, because of her husband’s illness, she had only been able to come once to mourn for Grandmother Jia. She calculated now that there were two days left before the funeral procession was due to set off; and since her husband’s condition had been positively diagnosed as a consumption, and he was therefore in no immediate danger, she decided she must call once more. She came on the day before the final wake. She recalled all Grandmother Jia’s love for her, and then her thoughts turned to her own fate, to have married such a fine husband, a man of such grace and talent, of such a gentle disposition, only to watch him being taken from her slowly and inexorably by an illness whose roots must surely lie in some previous lifetime. She wept with renewed grief for most of that night, despite the persistent efforts of Faithful and the other maids to console her.
Bao-yu was unbearably distressed by the sight of Xiang-yun’s weeping, but could hardly go to comfort her in the midst of the ceremonial lamentations. The plain mourning-clothes she was wearing and the absence of any make-up seemed to make her even prettier than before her marriage. He looked round at Bao-qin and the other girls; they too were plainly dressed, with a minimum of ornamentation. The very simplicity lent a charm and grace to their appearance. His eyes rested on Bao-chai: how well mourning-clothes became her! She looked even more attractive than in her everyday attire.
‘The men of old,’ mused Bao-yu to himself, ‘used to say that of all flowers none could rival the splendour of plum-blossom, not for its early blooming but for the incomparable purity of its whiteness, the unsurpassable freshness and delicacy of its scent. If only Cousin Lin were here now, and dressed in a simple mourning gown, how exquisitely beautiful she would look!’
He felt a pang of grief, tears rolled down his cheeks, and he began sobbing loudly and unrestrainedly. It was a funeral after all, and no one would think such behaviour out of place. The ladies were already busy rallying Xiang-yun when suddenly they heard another familiar voice break out wailing on the outside of the screen. They surmised that both cousins were overwhelmed by memories of Grandmother Jia’s past love and kindness, and little guessed that Xiang-yun and Bao-yu each had private cause for grief. Their heart-felt lamentations soon brought tears to everyone’s eyes, and it fell to Aunt Xue and old Mrs Li to offer comfort and counsel moderation.
The following day was the wake proper, and therefore busier than ever. Xi-feng was utterly exhausted, but there was nothing for it, she had to struggle on and muddle her way through the morning, even though she had by now lost her voice. By the afternoon, when the number of guests reached its peak and demands were being made on her from all quarters, she had reached breaking point and was searching in desperation for some second wind when a young maid came running in:
‘Here you are, ma’am! No wonder Lady Xing is so cross! “So many guests,” she said. “I can’t possibly take care of them. Where’s Mrs Lian? Hiding somewhere with her feet up, I’ll be bound!” ’
This unmerited rebuke provoked a sudden surge of indignation within Xi-feng. She struggled to control herself, but tears started to her eyes, and all went black before her. A sickly taste rose into her mouth and she began to vomit up quantities of bright red blood. The strength ebbed from her legs and she sank to the ground. Luckily Patience was at hand and hurried over to support her mistress as she crouched there, blood gushing from her mouth in an un-staunchable stream.
To learn if she survived this crisis or not, you must turn to the next chapter.
Chapter 111
A devoted maid renders a final service, and accompanies her mistress to the Great Void
A villainous slave takes his revenge, and betrays his masters into the hands of thieves
Patience hurried forward, and with the help of another maid she raised Xi-feng from the ground and gently escorted her to her room. There she laid her down with great care on the kang and told Crimson to bring a cup of hot water and hold it to her lips. Xi-feng drank a sip of the water and then sank into a heavy sleep. Autumn came briefly into the room, glanced at her lying there, and walked out again. Patience di
d not ask her to stay, but turned instead to Felicity who was standing at her side and said:
‘Go and tell Their Ladyships at once.’
Felicity informed Ladies Xing and Wang that Xi-feng had vomited blood and would be unable to continue with her duties. Lady Xing suspected Xi-feng of malingering, but refrained from expressing her suspicions in front of her female relatives.
‘Tell Mrs Lian to go and lie down then,’ she said.
No one made any further comment. That evening an endless stream of family and friends came to call, and only thanks to the help of a few close relations could a semblance of normality be maintained. Xi-feng’s absence was the cue for many of the staff to give up working altogether, and little now stood between Rong-guo House and total chaos.
At ten o’clock in the evening, when those guests who lived a long way off had departed, the family began to prepare for the wake, and a chorus of lamentation rose from the womenfolk gathered within the funeral screen. Faithful wept herself into a faint, and had to be propped up and given a vigorous pummelling. When she came round, all she could say was:
‘Her Old Ladyship was always so good to me! I want to go with her!’
Her words were not taken seriously, but were considered a natural, if rather hyperbolic, expression of her grief. Later, when the time came for the wake proper, and over a hundred family and servants were gathered together for the ritual, Faithful was nowhere to be seen, and in the general flurry of activity no one bothered to check where she was. The turn came for Amber and Grandmother Jia’s other maids to lament and make their offering, and they would have looked for Faithful then to join them, but thought she had probably worn herself out with weeping and gone to lie down somewhere, and decided to let her be.
When the ritual was over, Jia Zheng told Jia Lian to ensure that all was ready for the funeral cortège, and discussed with him who was to look after the house in the family’s absence.
‘I’ve told Yun to stay at home and take charge,’ said Jia Lian. ‘And Steward Lin and his family will stay behind as well and supervise the dismantling of the awning. I still don’t know which of the ladies should be left in charge of the inner apartments.’
‘I heard your mother say that Xi-feng was ill and wouldn’t be going,’ replied Jia Zheng. ‘So she will be staying at home anyway. And Cousin Zhen’s wife suggested that, as she is so seriously ill, Xi-feng should have Xi-chun and a few maids and serving-women to keep her company. Between them they can keep an eye on Grandmother’s apartments.’
Jia Lian had his reservations about this proposal.
‘You-shi doesn’t like Xi-chun,’ he thought to himself, ‘and is deliberately preventing her from going on the procession. But Xi-chun can’t take charge on her own. And Xi-feng is too sick to be of any help.’
‘You should go and rest now, Uncle,’ he said to Jia Zheng. ‘I’ll report back to you when I’ve had a word with Mother.’
Jia Zheng nodded, and Jia Lian went in to Lady Xing’s apartment.
Earlier in the evening, Faithful had wandered off on her own, brooding tearfully to herself:
‘All my life I’ve lived with Her Old Ladyship, and now that she’s dead I’ve nowhere to turn. Sir She is not at home, that’s something to be thankful for, but I don’t like the way Lady Xing is behaving. Sir Zheng will never intervene on my behalf, and one way or another the future looks very bleak. The young masters will all be trying to get their way. We shall each of us be dealt with as they think fit, some kept for their beds, some married to their page-boys … Well, I for one won’t stand for it! I’d rather die! But how? That’s the question …’
She had made her way towards Grandmother Jia’s inner room. From the threshold she detected a faint form in the dim lamplight within, a lady with a sash in her hand, poised as if in the very act of hanging herself from a beam. Faithful was not in the least frightened.
‘Who can this be?’ she asked herself. ‘Someone bent on the same course as myself, but with greater resolve …’
‘Who are you?’ she said aloud. ‘We seem to have the same thought! Let us die together!’
There was no reply. Faithful walked a little closer and could see now that it was not one of the maids from Grandmother Jia’s apartment. She looked more carefully. A chill breeze blew past her, and the lady’s form vanished into thin air. Faithful stood there for a moment longer in a daze, then walked back into the outer room and sat down on the edge of the kang, lost in thought. Suddenly she exclaimed:
‘Of course! That’s who it was! Mr Rong’s first wife, from Ning-guo House. But she died long ago. What was she doing here? I suppose she must have come to fetch me. But why was she going through the motions of hanging herself?’
After a few moments’ thought:
‘That’s it! She was showing me how!’
With this realization, the evil had entered the very marrow of her being, and her resolve was formed at last. She rose to her feet as if in a trance and went to her toilet box, opening it and weeping all the while. She took out the lock of hair that she had once cut from her head, and slipped it inside the bosom of her dress. She untied the sash from around her waist and looped one end of it over the beam where Qin Ke-qing had just stood. Then she gave herself up to one last fit of weeping. Hearing the guests leave in the distance, and fearing that someone might come in and surprise her before the deed was done, she quickly pulled the door to and fetched a footstool. Standing on the stool, she tied a slip-knot in the sash, put her head through the knot and kicked the stool away. Alas! The last breath was soon strangled from her throat, and her gentle soul fled its mortal frame.
The wandering soul was still uncertain whither to proceed when it saw once more the faint form of Qin Ke-qing standing before it. ‘Mrs Rong!’ it cried, advancing urgently towards the apparition. ‘Wait for me!’
‘I am not Mrs Rong,’ came the reply. ‘I am Disenchantment’s younger sister, Ke-qing.’
‘But you’re most definitely Mrs Rong,’ protested Faithful. ‘How can you deny it?’
‘Listen,’ replied the other. ‘I will tell you the true story of all this, and then you will surely understand. I once occupied the highest seat in Disenchantment’s Tribunal of Love. My responsibility was the settlement of Debts of Passion. I went down into the human world, where naturally I was destined to become the world’s foremost lover, my mission being to draw lovesick lads and lovelorn maidens with all speed back to the tribunal and the settlement of their debts. As part of this mission it was my Karma to hang myself. I have now seen through the illusion of mortal attachment, and have risen above the Sea of Passion to return to the Paradise of Love. This leaves a vacancy in the Land of Illusion, in the Department of Fond Infatuation. You have been chosen by Disenchantment to take my place, and I have been sent to guide you there.’
‘But I am a most unpassionate person!’ protested Faithful. ‘How can I be considered a lover?’
‘You don’t understand,’ replied the other. ‘Earthlings treat lust and love as one and the same thing. By this means they practise all manner of lechery and immorality, and pass it off as “harmless romance”. They do not understand the true meaning of the word “love”. Before the emotions of pleasure, anger, grief and joy stir within the human breast, there exists the “natural state” of love; the stirring of these emotions causes passion. Our kind of love, yours and mine, is the former, natural state. It is like a bud. Once open, it ceases to be true love.’
Faithful’s soul signalled understanding with a nod, and followed Qin Ke-qing.
When the wake was over, Ladies Xing and Wang began giving instructions to those of the servants who were staying behind to look after the house, and Amber went in search of Faithful to ask her whether their carriages had been hired for the next day. She looked in vain in the outer room of Grandmother Jia’s apartment, and then she noticed that the door to the inner room was on the latch, and putting her eye to the crack peered through into the half-lit interior. A flickering lamp
filled the room with eerie shadows. No sound could be heard from inside and she retraced her steps, saying to herself:
‘Where can the wretched girl have disappeared to?’
On her way out she bumped into Pearl.
‘Have you seen Faithful?’ she asked.
‘No,’ replied Pearl. ‘I’ve been looking myself. Their Ladyships want to speak to her. Most probably she’s fallen asleep in the inner room.’
‘I’ve just had a look – she didn’t seem to be there,’ said Amber. ‘The lamp needs trimming, and it’s awfully dark and spooky inside. I didn’t actually go inside. Shall we go in together and look properly?’
The two maids entered the room. First they trimmed the lamp.
‘Who put this footstool here?’ exclaimed Pearl. ‘I nearly tripped over it.’
As she spoke she looked upwards and let out a horrified cry.
‘Aiyo!’ She fell back and collided with Amber, who looked up in turn, screamed and stood rooted to the spot. Their cries were soon heard, and other maids came running into the room. There were more shrieks of horror, and word was sent at once to Ladies Xing and Wang.
When Lady Wang and Bao-chai heard the news, they both burst into tears and set off to Grandmother Jia’s apartment to see for themselves.
‘I never thought Faithful had it in her to do this!’ exclaimed Lady Xing. ‘Send someone at once to inform Sir Zheng.’