Read The Dreamer Wakes Page 27


  There was a ‘hm’ from Jia Zheng (signifying, ‘I should think so too’), and Jia Lian hung his head abjectly.

  Jia Zheng: ‘Report first to your mother. When you go home, take one or two of Grandmother’s maids with you. Tell them to think carefully, and produce something in the way of an inventory …’

  Jia Lian knew that Faithful had been in charge of all Grandmother Jia’s personal effects, and that now she was dead it would be useless to ask Pearl or the other maids to remember. But he hadn’t the nerve to contradict Jia Zheng, and responding docilely to his instructions, he went to the inner room, where he had to endure the reproaches of Ladies Xing and Wang, and was then ordered to hurry home and bid the women on night-duty prepare themselves for their mistresses’ wrath. Assuring his mother and aunt with a somewhat ill grace that he would do as they commanded, Jia Lian went out and ordered one of his men to hire a carriage for Amber and Grandmother Jia’s other maids, while he himself mounted a mule and hastened home with a few of his pages. Jia Yun had no stomach for further confrontations with Jia Zheng, and he sneaked out in a sort of sideways slither, mounted horse and caught up with Jia Lian. Their ride into town passed uneventfully.

  Jia Lian was greeted at Rong-guo House by Steward Lin, who led him into Grandmother Jia’s apartment, where they found Xi-feng and Xi-chun waiting. Seething as he was with bitterness towards them both, Jia Lian restrained himself and turned to ask Lin:

  ‘Have the authorities had a look yet?’

  Lin (kneeling guiltily): ‘Both the police and the civil authorities have made an inspection, sir. They discovered the burglars’ tracks, and examined the corpse.’

  Jia Lian (with considerable surprise): ‘What corpse?’

  Steward Lin told him how Bao Yong had killed one of the burglars, and that the dead man showed a strong resemblance to Zhou Rui’s adopted son.

  Jia Lian: ‘Send for Jia Yun!’

  When Jia Yun came in, he too fell to his knees before Jia Lian.

  Jia Lian: ‘Why didn’t you tell Uncle Zheng about this, that one of the burglars was Zhou Rui’s adopted son, and that he had been killed by Bao Yong?’

  Jia Yun: ‘The men on night-duty only said that it looked like him. I was afraid they might turn out to be wrong, so I didn’t mention it.’

  Jia Lian: ‘Idiot! If you’d told me, I could have brought Zhou Rui with me to identify the corpse. That would have settled any doubt.’

  Lin: ‘The authorities have taken the corpse away and exhibited it in the market-place for identification.’

  Jia Lian: ‘That’s pretty damned foolish of them! As if anyone would come forward for a man that’s been killed escaping from a burglary!’

  Lin: ‘There’s no need for identification anyway, sir. I recognized the man myself.’

  Jia Lian pondered for a minute.

  ‘Of course! Wasn’t it Zhou Rui’s adopted son that Mr Zhen wanted to have flogged a year or so ago?’

  Lin: ‘That’s right, sir. He was caught fighting with Bao Er. You must have seen him at the time.’

  Jia Lian was made angrier still by this revelation, and wanted to beat the man on night-duty, but Steward Lin pleaded with him to abate his wrath.

  ‘They had their orders, sir, and I’m sure they did their duty. But it is a strict family regulation that men are not allowed beyond the inner gate. Even we are not allowed in unless expressly sent for. Master Yun and I did our rounds regularly in the outer apartments; the inner gate was firmly closed, and none of the outer gates was left open. The burglars broke in from a back alley.’

  Jia Lian: ‘Where are the women who were supposed to be on night-duty in the inner apartments?’

  Lin informed him that on Xi-feng’s instructions the women had all been detained and bound, and were waiting to be interrogated.

  Jia Lian: ‘And Bao Yong?’

  Lin: ‘He has gone back to the Garden.’

  Jia Lian: ‘Send for him.’

  The pages went to fetch Bao Yong, and when he arrived Jia Lian praised him for his conduct:

  ‘It’s a good job you were here! Otherwise I dare say everything in the house would have been taken!’

  Bao Yong said nothing. Xi-chun was terrified that he was going to open his mouth and start abusing Adamantina. Xi-feng maintained an apprehensive silence.

  It was reported meanwhile that Amber and the other maids had arrived from the temple, and they entered and amid much weeping exchanged greetings with the rest of the household. On Jia Lian’s orders the servants searched Grandmother Jia’s apartment to see what if anything the burglars had left behind, and found nothing but clothes, a few lengths of fabric and some caskets of copper cash. Jia Lian was now more distraught than ever. The men working on the awning and the pall-bearers had not been paid, nor had the extra kitchen expenses for the funeral reception been met. Where was he to find the money now? He brooded morosely, while Amber and the other maids went into Grandmother Jia’s inner rooms and broke into a renewed fit of sobbing as they surveyed the havoc. The boxes and cupboards were all flung open, and how could they possibly remember what had been in them? However, they eventually managed to concoct a list of sorts, which they handed to a servant to deliver to the authorities. Jia Lian issued instructions for that night’s watch, and Xi-feng and Xi-chun went back to their rooms. Jia Lian thought it best not to spend the night at home, and did not even find time to reproach Xi-feng for her part in the affair. As soon as he could get away he mounted horse and galloped back to the temple. Xi-feng was still anxious that Xi-chun might be contemplating suicide, and sent Felicity over to comfort her.

  At ten o’clock that night the gates were firmly barred – a somewhat superfluous precaution by now – and everyone lay in bed in a state of nervous wakefulness. But our narrative leaves Rong-guo House and returns to the nun-besotted burglar. He knew that the Hermitage occupied an isolated location in the Garden, and that the nun’s only companions there were a few old matrons and novices, who would present no obstacle. He made his plans accordingly. At midnight, when all was quiet, equipped with a knife and a supply of potent narcotic incense, he scaled the Garden wall, and from his vantage point there he could see in the distance lamps burning in the Hermitage. He crept stealthily across and hid himself in an out-of-the-way corner.

  By two o’clock, there was only a single night-light still burning. Adamantina was sitting cross-legged on her mat. She took a short break from her meditations, and after several gusty sighs reflected aloud to herself:

  ‘When I came to the capital from my old home on Mount Xuan-mu, I had hoped to make a name for myself. But then when the Jias invited me to stay here, I could hardly decline their invitation. And now I can’t even do something as simple and innocent as paying a visit to Xi-chun without being heaped with abuse by some coarse creature. And later in the night I had such a fright! How nervous I’ve been all day, ever since my return. I simply can’t settle down properly and meditate.’

  She usually meditated alone, and even today had not asked the others to stay up with her. But suddenly at four o’clock she began to tremble with cold and was about to call out to one of her women when she heard a sound through the window. She thought immediately of what had happened the previous evening and gave a terrified cry for help! But it brought no answer. From where she sat she could detect a strange smell seeping right into her head, and she felt her limbs becoming gradually numb and incapable of movement, her mouth incapable of speech. Panic began to grip her. Helplessly she watched as a stranger entered her room, a man, with a knife glistening in his hand. Though she was paralysed, her mind was still clear, and thinking that she was about to be murdered she steeled herself mentally to her fate and found herself surprisingly free of fear. Then to her amazement the man slipped the knife back into the scabbard slung over his shoulder, came towards her and put both his arms softly round her. He fondled her briefly, then hoisted her up onto his back. By now Adamantina was too groggy to understand what was happening to her. The drugs
had sent her into a profound stupor, and she surrendered her virginal body into the stranger’s hands, to do with as he pleased.

  With Adamantina on his back, the man made his way to the Garden wall, which he scaled with a rope-ladder, climbing down to where some of his accomplices were waiting with the getaway cart. They bundled her in and set off. The impressive-looking official titles inscribed on the carriage lanterns enabled them to pass through the district barricades, and by the time they reached the city gate it was opening time and the gatekeeper did not even bother to ask any questions, thinking they were on official business. Once out of the city, they pressed on to Seven Mile Bank, where they joined the rest of the gang and agreed to make their ways separately to the South coast.

  It is not known what eventually became of Adamantina: whether she submitted willingly to her captor’s desires, or whether she resisted and died in so doing. In the absence of conclusive evidence as to her ultimate fate, it would be futile for us to speculate on that subject. Instead, our narrative returns to the Hermitage. One of the old nuns who had her quarters to the rear of Adamantina’s meditation chamber slept that night until four in the morning, when she was awakened by the sound of voices from the front room. Adamantina must be having a restless spell in her meditations, she concluded. But then afterwards she heard heavy (and unmistakably male) footsteps and the sound of doors and windows opening and closing. She would have risen to investigate, but her limbs had become quite weak and she could not so much as open her mouth to speak. No further sound came from Adamantina’s room, and the old nun lay there till dawn in a stupor, with her eyes wide open. It was only then that her head began to clear; she threw on some clothes and told the old matrons to heat the water for Adamantina’s morning tea. Then she went to the front room, but to her alarm found no trace of Adamantina, and door and windows open wide. She began to have suspicions about the sounds she had heard in the night.

  ‘Where could she have gone so early in the morning?’ she asked aloud.

  Walking out into the Garden, she saw a rope-ladder hanging from the wall, and lying on the ground beneath it a scabbard and sash.

  ‘Oh my goodness! It must have been a burglar last night! He must have put us all to sleep!’

  She called the others to rise and make a search of the Hermitage. The main gate was still firmly closed.

  ‘Oh dear, the fumes from the stove were terrible last night!’ grumbled the old matrons and young novices alike when they were summoned. ‘None of us felt like getting up this morning. What do you want us for at this ungodly hour?’

  ‘Sister Adamantina has disappeared!’ exclaimed the nun.

  ‘She’s probably in Our Lady Guan-yin’s chapel meditating.’

  ‘You’re all still dreaming! Come and have a look.’

  The women finally roused themselves in a flurry of alarm, opened the main gate of the Hermitage and searched throughout the Garden. Then it occurred to them that Adamantina might have gone to visit Xi-chun, and they went in a body to knock at the side gate, only to receive another round of abuse from Bao Yong.

  ‘We don’t know where Sister Adamantina went last night,’ they said. ‘We’re looking for her. Open up, old fellow, and let us into the house. We just want to find out if she’s been visiting there or not.’

  ‘She was the one who let the burglars in!’ cried Bao Yong. ‘Now they’ve got what they came for, and she’s gone off with them to enjoy it!’

  ‘Holy name!’ exclaimed one of the women. ‘You’ll have your tongue cut out in hell for such wicked talk!’

  Bao Yong (vehemently): ‘Rubbish! Any more trouble from you and I’ll have to use force.’

  Women (smiling obsequiously now and pleading): ‘Please sir, we beseech you, open the gate. Just let us have a look. If she’s not there, we’ll never bother you again.’

  Bao Yong: ‘Very well. If you don’t believe me, go in and look for yourselves. But if you don’t find her, I shall want an explanation from you on your way back.’

  He opened the gate and the women went in to Xi-chun’s apartment.

  Xi-chun was in very low spirits that morning, and was still brooding about what had happened the previous day:

  ‘Adamantina went home so early yesterday. I wonder if she heard what that servant Bao Yong said. If he has offended her again, she’ll never come and visit me; and then I shall have lost my only real friend in the world. With Mother and Father both dead and my own sister-in-law hating me the way she does, I find it so hard to face other people. Before there was always Granny Jia, I knew I could count on her for affection. Now that she’s gone too, I’m utterly alone. What will become of me?’

  She thought of the other girls and their various fates:

  ‘Ying-chun driven to her death; Xiang-yun married to a consumptive; Tan-chun living at the other end of the world … Each one of them had her destiny, and each was powerless to change its course. Adamantina is the only free one among us, free as a wandering cloud or a wild crane. If I could only be like her, how happy I would be! But how can I hope to follow her example? I belong to a wealthy family! And now I’ve let even my family down, and I’m in complete disgrace. Neither Aunt Wang nor Aunt Xing understands how I feel. There’s no telling how life will turn out for me!’

  She was more resolved than ever to take the final, irrevocable step, to cut her hair and by so doing signal once and for all her entry into the religious life. Landscape and the other maids heard the snip of the scissors and hurried over, but they were too late. She had already removed a good half of her hair.

  ‘Before one disaster is over, here’s another!’ cried Landscape in alarm. ‘What are we to do now?’

  This was the state of disarray that prevailed in Xi-chun’s apartment when Adamantina’s old women arrived on their search. Landscape enquired what their mission was and was shocked to hear of Adamantina’s disappearance.

  ‘She left us early yesterday morning and hasn’t been back since,’ she informed them. Xi-chun overheard from inside and asked in alarm:

  ‘Where has Adamantina gone?’

  One of the women told the tale, how they had heard sounds in the night, had been put to sleep by the incense, had found Adamantina missing in the morning and discovered the rope-ladder and scabbard by the Garden wall. Xi-chun was both distressed and puzzled. She recalled Bao Yong’s accusations of the previous day, but dismissed them at once from her mind, reflecting that most probably the burglars had spotted Adamantina and come back during the night to carry her off. But she knew Adamantina; surely a person of such chastity and pride would have died rather than submit to such indignity?

  ‘Didn’t you hear anything?’ she asked of the women.

  ‘We heard,’ they replied. ‘But we couldn’t do anything. We could only lie there with our eyes wide open, unable to say a word. The burglars must have put us to sleep by burning some sort of incense. And Sister Adamantina must have been overcome with the fumes too. That’s why she couldn’t speak either. Besides, there were probably a lot of them, armed to the hilt, so she would have been too scared to make a noise or cry out.’

  Bao Yong could be heard yelling from the gate:

  ‘Get those stupid old hags out of here and close the gate at once!’

  Landscape, who was afraid of causing fresh trouble, told the women to leave immediately and gave orders for the gate to be closed.

  Xi-chun was now more miserable than ever. Landscape and her other maids repeatedly urged her to take a more reasonable view, and persuaded her to put up the remaining portion of her hair.

  ‘We mustn’t spread the word about Adamantina,’ they all agreed. ‘Even if it is true, we must behave as if we know nothing until Sir Zheng and Lady Wang come home.’

  From this day, Xi-chun’s determination to renounce the world was immovable. But of this no more at present.

  When Jia Lian returned to the Temple of the Iron Threshold, he reported to Jia Zheng that he had interrogated the men on night-duty and had seen to it t
hat an inventory was prepared and delivered to the authorities.

  ‘How did you manage with the inventory?’ asked Jia Zheng.

  Jia Lian showed him a copy of the list Amber had made up from memory, adding:

  ‘All Grandmother’s presents from Her Grace are clearly indicated. Any other unusual or conspicuous items have been left off the list. When my period of mourning is over, I shall instigate a search for those items and am confident we shall find them.’

  Jia Zheng thought this course of action wise, and nodded his silent approval.

  Jia Lian went in to see Ladies Xing and Wang, and begged them to urge Jia Zheng to return home as soon as possible. The longer they stayed away the greater the chaos would be when they got back.

  ‘I quite agree,’ said Lady Xing. ‘So long as we stay here, we’ll only be in this dreadful suspense anyway.’

  ‘I would not dare suggest an early departure myself,’ said Jia Lian. ‘But if it came from you, Mother, I am sure Uncle Zheng would agree.’

  Lady Xing discussed the matter with Lady Wang, and they both agreed that Lian’s suggestion was a good one.

  As it turned out, by the next morning Jia Zheng was himself anxious to return and sent Bao-yu in to the ladies with this message:

  ‘I propose that we return today and resume our mourning here in two or three days’ time. I have given the necessary instructions to those of my servants who are staying behind; would the ladies be so good as to do likewise?’

  Lady Xing instructed Parrot and some of the other maids to stay as mourners, and left Zhou Rui’s wife and a few of the older stewardesses in overall charge. Everyone else was to return home. There was an immediate bustle of activity as carriages were prepared and horses saddled, and Jia Zheng led the family in a final lamentation, bidding ceremonial farewell to Grandmother Jia’s mortal remains.

  They had all risen from their prostrations and were about to leave, when they noticed that Aunt Zhao was still down on her knees. Aunt Zhou thought she must still be weeping and came over to help her up. But something more than grief had incapacitated her; she was foaming at the mouth, her eyes were fixed in a glassy stare, her tongue protruded from her face. The sight gave everyone a nasty turn, and Jia Huan came up to his mother crying frantically, which seemed to bring her round momentarily.