Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Previous Chapter | Table of Contents

Chapter 120: Zhen Shiyin Explains the Illusion of the Great Void; Jia Yucun Concludes the Dream of the Red Chamber

When Baochai heard Qiuyun tell her that Xiren was not well, she hurried inside to have a look. Qiaojie and Ping'er followed her to Xiren's bed. They saw that Xiren was suffering unbearable heart pain and had fainted from the pain. Baochai and the others revived her with hot water, helped her back to bed, and sent for a doctor. Qiaojie asked Baochai, "How did Sister Xiren become so ill?" Baochai said, "The night before last she wept so much that it wounded her heart, and she fainted from a sudden dizzy spell. Her Ladyship had her brought back, and she lay down to sleep. Because there were matters to attend to outside, no doctor was called to see her, and so it has come to this." As she spoke, the doctor arrived, and Baochai and the others withdrew slightly. The doctor took her pulse and said it was caused by sudden anger and agitation. He wrote a prescription and left. It turned out that Xiren had vaguely heard someone say that if Baoyu did not return, everyone in the house would be sent away. The shock made her condition worse still. After the doctor had seen her, Qiuyun brewed her medicine for her. She lay there alone, her spirit still unsettled. It seemed to her that Baoyu was right before her, and then vaguely he appeared to be a monk, holding a register and turning its pages, saying, "Don't you get the wrong idea—I don't know any of you anymore." Xiren seemed about to speak to him, when Qiuyun came over and said, "The medicine is ready, Sister. Drink it." Xiren opened her eyes and realized it was a dream, but she told no one. After taking the medicine, she thought it over carefully to herself: "Baoyu must have gone off with the monk. Last time he tried to take the jade outside, that was a sign he wanted to free himself. I held onto him, but he was not like his usual self—he pushed me away roughly, without the slightest affection. Later he grew even more distant with Second Mistress. With the other young ladies too, he showed no feeling at all. This is what it looks like when someone has attained enlightenment. But if you have attained enlightenment, what about abandoning Second Mistress? I was assigned by Her Ladyship to wait on you, and though my monthly allowance follows that scale, in truth I was never formally acknowledged before the Master and Her Ladyship as one of your women. If the Master and Her Ladyship were to send me away, and I stubbornly stayed on, others would laugh at me. But if I left, thinking of the affection Baoyu showed me, I really could not bear it." She turned it over and over in her mind—truly a difficult situation. She thought of the dream just now, the words that seemed to mean "we have no connection anymore"—"Perhaps it would be better to die and be done with it." She did not know that after taking the medicine, her heart pain had lessened somewhat, though she could barely lie down and had to force herself to carry on. After a few days, she got up to wait on Baochai. Baochai thought of Baoyu and secretly shed tears, lamenting her own hard fate. She also knew that her mother was planning to redeem her brother's crimes, which required considerable effort, and she could not but help with the arrangements. Let us leave this for now.

Now let us speak of Jia Zheng, who was escorting Grandmother Jia's coffin, while Jia Rong escorted the coffins of Qin-shi, Phoenix, and Yuanyang to Jinling, where they were first interred. Jia Rong himself also went to bury Daiyu's remains. Jia Zheng attended to matters concerning the graves. One day he received a letter from home, and as he read it line by line, his heart gladdened at the news that Baoyu and Jia Lan had passed the examinations. But later he read that Baoyu had gone missing, and his anxiety returned. He had to hurry back. On the road he heard that an edict of amnesty had been issued, and then received another letter from home confirming that his crimes had been pardoned and his position restored. This made him even happier, and he pressed forward day and night.

One day, as he reached Piling Post, the weather had suddenly turned cold and snow was falling. He moored at a quiet spot. Jia Zheng sent his men ashore to deliver cards and thank his friends, telling them all that the boat would set sail at once and asking them not to trouble themselves. He kept only one young servant to attend him on board. He sat in the boat writing a letter home, intending to send someone ahead by land to deliver it. When he came to the matter of Baoyu, he paused his brush. Raising his head, he suddenly saw someone in the faint snow-shadow at the prow—bareheaded, barefoot, wearing a great red woolen cloak, who bowed deeply to Jia Zheng. Jia Zheng had not yet made out who it was, and hurried out of the boat, wanting to support him and ask who he was. The man had already bowed four times and stood up to make a gesture of greeting. Jia Zheng was just about to return the bow when he looked up and saw that it was none other than Baoyu. Jia Zheng was greatly startled and quickly asked, "Can it be Baoyu?" The man merely stood there without speaking, seeming at once joyful and sorrowful. Jia Zheng asked again, "If you are Baoyu, why are you dressed like this, and how did you come here?" Before Baoyu could reply, two figures appeared at the prow of the boat—a monk and a Taoist priest—who took Baoyu by the arms and said, "Your ties with the mortal world are finished. Why do you not leave quickly?" With that, the three of them drifted ashore and vanished. Jia Zheng, heedless of the slippery ground, hurried in pursuit. He saw the three figures ahead of him but could not catch up. He only heard one of the three—he could not tell which—singing:

Where I dwell,

The Peak of Blue Ridge.

Where I roam,

The vastness of primeval space.

Who roams with me?

Whom shall I follow?

Boundless and limitless,

I return to the Great Wilderness.

Jia Zheng listened as he chased them. Rounding a small hill, they suddenly disappeared. Jia Zheng had chased until he was panting and breathless, filled with alarm and doubt. He turned his head and saw that his young servant had followed him in pursuit. Jia Zheng asked, "Did you see those three people just now?" The servant said, "I did. This slave was chasing them on Your Honor's account, so I came running too. But later I saw only Your Honor—the three people were gone." Jia Zheng was about to go forward again when he saw only a vast expanse of white wilderness stretching before him, with not a single person in sight. Jia Zheng knew this was something strange, and could only turn back.

When the servants returned to the boat, they found that Jia Zheng was not in the cabin. They asked the boatmen, who said, "The Master has gone ashore to chase after two monks and a Taoist priest." The others then set out across the snow to follow his tracks and meet him. From a distance they saw Jia Zheng coming and went forward to join him, returning to the boat together. Jia Zheng sat down, and when his breathing had at last steadied, he told them all he had seen of Baoyu. The servants reported back and proposed searching for him in that place. Jia Zheng sighed and said, "You do not understand. I saw this with my own eyes; it was no ghost or spirit. Moreover, there was something profoundly mysterious about the singing. When Baoyu was born with the jade in his mouth, that was strange too. I had long known it was an ill omen, but because the Old Lady doted on him, I let him be raised until now. I have seen that monk and Taoist priest three times: the first time was when the monk and priest came to speak of the jade's virtues; the second was when Baoyu was gravely ill, and they came and recited incantations over the jade, after which Baoyu recovered; the third time they brought the jade and sat it in the front hall, but the moment I turned my head it had vanished. I felt somewhat astonished but supposed that Baoyu truly had great fortune, and that some lofty monk or immortal Taoist had come to protect him. Who would have known that Baoyu had descended to the mortal world to undergo a trial, and had thus deceived the Old Lady for nineteen years! Only now do I understand." As he spoke these words, tears fell from his eyes. The others said, "If the Second Master Baoyu truly was a monk descended from Heaven, he should not have passed the provincial examination. Why did he leave only after passing it?" Jia Zheng replied, "You do not understand this either. As a general rule, the star-spirits of Heaven, the aged monks of the mountains, and the goblins of the caves each have a nature of their own. Look at Baoyu—when was he ever willing to study? Had he given his mind to it even slightly, there was nothing he could not have accomplished. His temperament was entirely different from the common run." As he spoke, he sighed several more times. The others then tried to comfort him with talk of "Brother Lan having passed the examination and the family's fortunes rising again." Jia Zheng went on writing his letter home and included this matter, exhorting the whole family not to think of Baoyu any more. When he had finished writing and sealed the letter, he immediately sent the servants back. Jia Zheng himself followed afterward. For the time being we shall say no more of this.

Meanwhile, having received the news of Xue Pan's pardon, Aunt Xue directed Xue Ke to borrow from every quarter. She herself also scraped together the sum needed for his redemption. The Board of Punishments approved the petition, received the silver, and issued a warrant releasing Xue Pan. The reunion of mother, sons, sisters, and brothers need not be described in detail—naturally it was a mingling of grief and joy. Xue Pan swore an oath to himself: "If I ever fall back into my old ways, may I be killed and cut to pieces!" When Aunt Xue saw him like this, she tried to cover his mouth and said: "So long as you have made up your mind, must you go on babbling such blood-cursed oaths? Xiangling has suffered enough on your account. Your wife has already done herself in. True, we are poor now, but we still have rice to eat. In my view, I shall consider her your wife. What do you think?" Xue Pan nodded his agreement. Baochai and the others also said: "That is only right." This made Xiangling so anxious that her face flushed crimson. "I serve the Master just as before," she protested. "Why must it be like this?" From then on, everyone addressed her as "Eldest Young Mistress," and none objected.

Xue Pan then went to pay his respects to the Jia family. Aunt Xue and Baochai came as well. They met the household and spoke together at length. As they were talking, a servant of Jia Zheng's happened to arrive from the road, bearing a letter. "The Master will be here any day now," it said. Lady Wang had Jia Lan read the letter aloud. When Jia Lan reached the part describing Jia Zheng's personal encounter with Baoyu, everyone wept upon hearing it—Lady Wang, Baochai, and Xiren most bitterly of all. They then discussed Jia Zheng's words in the letter, in which he told the family "not to grieve, for it was merely borrowing a body to be born." "If he had become an official and, through ill fortune, committed some offense that ruined the family and destroyed our property, that would have been far worse. Better that our house should produce a Buddha—that would be your lord and lady's reward for accumulated virtue, and that is why he was born into our family. Not to speak recklessly, but the Elder Master of the East Mansion practiced cultivation for more than ten years and never attained immortality. A Buddha is still harder to achieve. When the Lady thinks of it this way, her heart will be eased."

Lady Wang wept and said to Aunt Xue: "Baoyu abandoned me, and I was angry with him. What I lament is my daughter-in-law's bitter fate. They had been married barely a year or two, and he hardened his heart and left it all behind!" Aunt Xue was deeply grieved to hear this. Baochai wept until she knew no more. The gentlemen were all outside, so Lady Wang said: "All my life I lived in fear for him. Just recently he had married, passed the provincial examination, and we learned his wife was with child—I had begun to feel some happiness—and now it has come to this! Had I known, I should never have arranged the marriage, ruining another family's daughter!"

Aunt Xue replied: "This was destined. For a family like ours, what else is there to say? Fortunately there is a child. In time a grandson will surely be born who will amount to something, and there will be an outcome after all. Look at the Eldest Young Mistress—Jia Lan has passed the provincial examination, and next year he will take the metropolitan examination and become an official. She has endured all the bitterness, and the sweetness she now tastes is the reward for her goodness of heart. You know our girl's disposition, Sister—she is neither harsh nor frivolous. You need not worry."

Lady Wang felt that Aunt Xue's words carried great weight. She reflected: "As a girl, Baochai was even more modest, quiet, simple, and averse to extravagance. That is why this has come to pass. It seems that a person's life truly has its fixed destiny. Though Baochai weeps, her composure and dignity have not shifted in the slightest—and she even comes to comfort me. That is truly remarkable! Who would have thought that someone like Baoyu would have not a shred of fortune in the red dust!" After pondering this for a while, she felt somewhat consoled.

Then she thought of Xiren. "As for the other maids, there is no difficulty. The older ones can be married off, and the younger ones can serve the Second Young Mistress. But what is to be done about Xiren?" There were too many people present to discuss it now. She would wait until evening to talk it over with Aunt Xue.

On that day, Aunt Xue did not return home, for she feared that Baochai would weep bitterly, so she stayed in Baochai's room to comfort her. Baochai, however, was a woman of great reason. Having thought the matter over thoroughly, she said, "Baoyu has always been an extraordinary person. His karmic destiny was ordained from a former life—there is nothing to be gained by blaming Heaven or other people." She then explained this grand principle to her mother in measured terms. Aunt Xue's mind was somewhat put at ease, and she went to Lady Wang's residence to tell her what Baochai had said. Lady Wang nodded and sighed, "If I say I lack virtue, I do not deserve such a good daughter-in-law." As she spoke, she grew sadder still. Aunt Xue consoled her for a while and then brought up Xiren. "I have noticed that Xiren has grown terribly thin of late. Her whole heart is set on Brother Bao. But as for proper wives, there is reason for them to remain faithful, and even among the concubines, some may choose to stay. But Xiren—though she is counted among the concubines, after all she and Brother Bao were never formally acknowledged." Lady Wang said, "I was just thinking about this very matter and was about to consult you, sister. If we let her go, I am afraid she will not consent and will seek to make an end of herself. But if we keep her, I fear the Master will not allow it. That is the difficulty." Aunt Xue said, "I do not think your husband will ever permit her to remain. Besides, the Master does not even know about Xiren's situation. He likely thinks of her as merely a servant girl—what reason would there have been to keep her? You need only summon her family and give them strict instructions to arrange a proper marriage for her, with a generous dowry besides. That girl has a good heart and is still young. She has not served you these many years in vain, and it will show that you have treated her well. As for Xiren herself, I can speak with her at length to persuade her. Even when her family is summoned, we need not tell her. Only when her family has truly secured a good match shall we make inquiries. If the household is well provided with food and clothing, and the son-in-law is a decent-looking man, then we may let her go." Lady Wang listened and said, "This is a sound plan. Otherwise, if the Master handles it rashly, I would be responsible for ruining another person's life!" Aunt Xue nodded and said, "Indeed!" After a few more words, she took her leave of Lady Wang and returned to Baochai's room.

She found Xiren's face streaked with tears, and Aunt Xue spent some time consoling and reasoning with her. Xiren was by nature honest and not a quick-tongued person. Whatever Aunt Xue said, Xiren assented to, and finally replied, "I am a person of low standing. It is because the姨太太 holds me in regard that she speaks to me in this way. I have never dared to go against the Lady's wishes." Aunt Xue, hearing her words, thought, "What an obedient girl!" and liked her even more. Baochai then repeated the words of principle once again, and each of them was at peace.

Several days later, Jia Zheng returned home, and the household went out to greet him. Jia Zheng saw that Jia She and Jia Zhen had already returned, and the brothers, uncles, and nephews exchanged accounts of what had happened during their time apart. Then the women of the household met, and inevitably they thought of Baoyu, and all grieved together for a time. Jia Zheng checked them, saying, "This is the natural order of things. Now we must manage affairs on the outside while you assist on the inside. We must not be as lax and careless as before. Each branch of the family shall manage its own affairs separately, and there is no need for central oversight. As for matters pertaining to our own branch, everything on the inside shall fall to you, and all must be conducted according to principle." Lady Wang then told him that Baochai was with child, and that all the servant girls should be advised to leave. Jia Zheng heard this and nodded in silence.

The next day, Jia Zheng went in to consult the ministers, saying, "I am deeply grateful for the Emperor's grace, but the mourning period has not yet been completed. How should I express my thanks? I beg the ministers to instruct me." The court ministers said they would present a memorial to request the Emperor's command. Thereupon the imperial bounty was bestowed, and Jia Zheng was summoned for an audience. Jia Zheng went in to express his gratitude. The Emperor issued several edicts and then inquired about Baoyu's affairs. Jia Zheng reported the truth of the matter. The Emperor marveled and issued an edict stating that Baoyu's writings were indeed pure and remarkable, and that he must have been a person of past attainment to write as he did. Had he been at court, he could have been employed in office. Since he did not dare accept rank in the sacred dynasty, the Emperor bestowed upon him the Taoist title of "Wenmiao Zhenren"—the True Man of Marvelous Letters. Jia Zheng kowtowed in thanks and withdrew.

When Jia Lian and Jia Zhen met them at home, Jia Zheng told the family what had transpired at court, and everyone was delighted. Jia Zhen then reported, "The Ningguo Mansion is ready. I've asked permission and we'll move back there. The Long Cui Nunnery is to remain within the garden, for Sister Fourth to recuperate in peace." Jia Zheng said nothing. But after a while he gave instructions about expressing their gratitude to Heaven for imperial favor. Jia Lian took the opportunity to add, "About Qiaojie's marriage—both Father and Mother are willing to give her to the Zhou family." Jia Zheng had learned the whole story of Qiaojie the night before. "The Elder Master and the Elder Mistress may decide," he said. "Never mind that they live in the countryside. If the family is respectable, and the boy is willing to study and make something of himself, what does it matter? Are all the officials in the capital city-bred?" Jia Lian assented, then added, "Father is no longer young, and besides he has a chronic weakness of the phlegm. He needs several years of quiet. In all matters, the Second Master must take charge." Jia Zheng replied, "This idea of living quietly in the countryside suits me very well. Only I have received such profound favors from the state that I have yet to repay them." With that he went inside. Jia Lian sent for Granny Liu and settled the matter with her. When Granny Liu saw Lady Wang and the others, she held forth on how they would rise in office, establish their fortunes, and see their descendants flourish. As they were speaking, a maid announced, "The wife of Hua Zifang is here to pay her respects." Lady Wang asked a few questions. Hua Zifang's wife, acting as a go-between for a relative, described a certain Jiang family from the south of the city who had land, a house, and a shop. The young master was a few years older than Xiren, but had never been married. Moreover, he was a man of rare personal beauty—one in a thousand. Lady Wang was pleased. "Go ahead and accept," she said. "Come back in a few days, and we'll send your sister-in-law over." She made further inquiries and heard nothing but praise. She told Baochai, and together they asked Aunt Xue to break the news carefully to Xiren. Xiren was overcome with grief, yet dared not disobey. She recalled the words Baoyu had spoken years ago when he visited her home: he'd sworn he would die before going back there. "Now the Mistress has made up her mind. If I stay, people will say I have no shame. But if I leave, it goes against my heart's desire." She wept until she could hardly breathe. Aunt Xue and Baochai reasoned with her urgently. At last she turned it over in her mind: "If I die here, I'll ruin the Mistress's kindness. I ought to die at home." With a heavy heart she bowed farewell to everyone. When the sisters parted, there was naturally still more that words could not express. Xiren climbed into the carriage with a resolve to die. When she saw her brother and sister-in-law, she wept too, but could not speak. Hua Zifang showed her all the betrothal gifts from the Jiang family and pointed out each item of the trousseau he had prepared—this from the Mistress's bounty, that from his own purse. Xiren found it even harder to open her mouth. After two days she thought it over: "My brother has done everything properly. If I died at his house, wouldn't I bring trouble upon him?" She turned it this way and that, caught in an impossible dilemma. Her heart was nearly torn apart, yet she held herself together.

On the day of the wedding, Xiren was not the sort of woman to make a scene. She got into her sedan-chair with quiet misery, telling herself she would make her decision once she arrived. But when she entered the Jiang household, she found that they treated everything with the utmost propriety, observing all the rites due a proper bride. The moment she crossed the threshold, the maids and servants all addressed her as "Madam." Now if Xiren wanted to die here, she feared she would bring harm on these people and betray their goodwill. That night she wept and would not submit, but her husband was infinitely tender and yielding. The next morning, when he opened her trunk and saw a crimson sash, he knew she had been Baoyu's maid. He had known only that she was a servant of the old lady of the Jia household; he had never imagined it was Xiren. At this, Jiang Yuhang, recalling the kindness Baoyu had once shown him, was filled with shame and remorse. He treated her with even greater care, and deliberately produced the pine-green sash that Baoyu had given him in exchange. When Xiren saw it, she knew that this Jiang Yuhang was indeed the same man, and she began to believe that marriages are predestined. Xiren then told him the truth of her heart. Jiang Yuhang, deeply moved and respectful, did not press her. He became gentler and more considerate than ever, until Xiren found she truly had no way left to carry out her wish. Now, dear reader, though things are indeed predestined and beyond our control, yet when it comes to loyal ministers, filial sons, righteous husbands, and chaste wives, that word "helpless" cannot be used as an excuse for everything. This is why Xiren is also recorded in the secondary register. As the poet wrote of the Temple of the Peach Blossom long ago:

The hardest thing since time began is but to die;

The grief is not the Lady Xi's alone, the cry.

But let us leave Xiren to her new life. Now it happened that Jia Yucun had been found guilty of extortion and duly sentenced. When a great amnesty was declared, he was stripped of his rank and reduced to commoner status. He sent his household ahead and came to the ferry at the Rapids Ford and the Crossing of Awakening, himself with only a young servant and a cart of luggage. He saw a Taoist emerge from the thatched shed at the ferry and come forward clasping his hands in greeting. Jia Yucun recognized him as Zhen Shiyin and hurriedly bowed. "Master Jia," said Zhen Shiyin, "well met after all this time!" "You are indeed old Master Zhen, the immortal sage!" replied Jia Yucun. "Why did you fail to recognize me when we met before? Later I heard the grass hermitage had burned down, and I was deeply troubled. That we meet today only confirms how profound your virtue is. But I, alas, am too stubborn and dull to change, and so I have come to this." Zhen Shiyin said, "When you were a high official and noble, how would this poor Taoist dare claim your acquaintance? Yet because of our old friendship, I ventured a few words—little did I expect you to cast them aside so completely. Still, wealth and poverty, glory and obscurity, are not without cause. That we meet again today is itself a remarkable thing. My humble hermitage is not far from here. Would you care to sit and talk for a while?"

Yucun accepted the commission with pleasure. The two men set off hand in hand, while a young servant drove the carriage behind them, arriving at a thatched hermitage. Shiyin ushered Yucun in and had him seated; a boy servant served tea. Yucun then asked the immortal about the whole story of his withdrawal from the dusty world. Shiyin smiled and said: "In a single thought, the mortal realm is utterly changed. You, old sir, have come from the realm of prosperity and splendor—how could you not know that within the village of tenderness and wealth there is a Precious Jade?" Yucun said: "How could I not know? I have heard it discussed everywhere lately—that he too has renounced the world. This dullard had dealings with him several times in those days. Little did I imagine this person would prove so utterly resolute." Shiyin said: "You are wrong. I knew of this extraordinary affinity long before. Before you and I spoke at the gate of our old residence in Renqing Lane, I had already met him once." Yucun asked in surprise: "The capital is very far from your honored district—how could you have met him?" Shiyin said: "We had long been acquainted in spirit." Yucun said: "If so, then the immortal surely knows where Precious Jade is now." Shiyin said: "Precious Jade is Precious Jade. Before the confiscation of the Rong and Ning mansions, on the day of the separation of Chai and Dai, that Jade had already departed from the world—first to avoid calamity, and second to bring about a union. From then on, the karmic bond of former lives was fulfilled, and form and substance returned to one. Then he manifested his divine powers once more, achieving high rank and fathering an illustrious son, to show that this Jade was a treasure of celestial wonder and earthly spirit, beyond all comparison in the mortal world. Previously, the Buddhist monk of vast compassion and the Daoist immortal of boundless mystery had carried him down into the mortal realm; now that his earthly karma was fulfilled, these same two carried him back to his original place. This is the whereabouts of Precious Jade." When Yucun heard this, though he could not fully understand, he grasped perhaps four or five parts in ten, and nodding, he sighed and said: "So that is how it was—this duller did not know. But if Precious Jade had such an origin, why was he so infatuated by passion, and then so suddenly enlightened? I must ask further." Shiyin smiled and said: "This matter, old sir, you may not entirely comprehend. The Land of Illusion is itself the Blessed Land of True Suchness. After perceiving the registers once, the principle of tracing origins to their ends, seeing his whole life spread out before him—how could he not awaken? When the divine herb returns to its true nature, how could the numinous jade not be restored to its original form!" Yucun listened, but understood no further. Knowing he must not press further on immortal mysteries, he changed the subject: "Now that I have heard about Precious Jade, may I ask—there are so many ladies of my clan; why, from Consort Yuan downward, do all their fates seem so ordinary?" Shiyin sighed and said: "Old sir, do not take offense at my blunt words. The daughters of noble families all come from the Heaven of Passion and the Sea of Sin. As for women of ancient and modern times, the word 'lust' must not be violated, but neither may they be tainted by the word 'word 'passion.' Thus Cui Ying and Su Xiao were none other than immortals with mortal hearts; Song Yu and Xiangru were largely the literary sins of men of letters. Whenever passion and longing become entangled, the outcome is beyond knowing." Hearing this, Yucun could not help stroking his beard and sighing. He then asked: "May I ask the venerable immortal—can the two mansions of Rong and Ning carry on as before?" Shiyin said: "Fortune rewards virtue and disaster follows vice—this is an eternal principle. Now in the Rong and Ning mansions, those who are good cultivate their karma, and those who are evil repent their wrongdoing. In time, the orchid and the osmanthus will both flourish, and the family fortunes will be restored—this is simply the natural course of things." Yucun lowered his head for a long while, then suddenly laughed and said: "Yes, yes! Now in that household there is one named Lan who has already passed the provincial examination—this corresponds exactly to the 'lan' character. Just now the venerable immortal spoke of 'the orchid and osmanthus both flourishing,' and also said that Precious Jade 'achieved high rank and fathered an illustrious son.' Could it be that he left a posthumous child in the womb, one who may soar to greatness?" Shiyin smiled faintly and said: "These are matters of the future—it is not fitting to speak of them beforehand." Yucun was about to ask further, but Shiyin gave no answer and instead ordered food to be set out, inviting Yucun to dine with him.

After the meal, Yucun still wished to ask about his own fate, and Shiyin said: "Old sir, rest a while in this thatched hermitage. I still have a piece of mortal karma to fulfill, and today is the day it must be concluded." Yucun asked in surprise: "You, immortal, have cultivated yourself to such purity—what mortal karma could you still have?" Shiyin said: "Nothing more than the private affections between a parent and child." Yucun was all the more astonished: "May I ask, immortal, what do you mean?" Shiyin said: "You do not know this, old sir. My daughter Yinglian suffered a calamity in the dusty world when she was young; you judged her case when you first took up your post. Now she has returned to the Xue family, completed her karmic ordeal through a difficult childbirth, and left a son behind in the Xue household to carry on the family line. Now is precisely the time when her earthly karma is fully exhausted—I must go and guide her." So saying, Shiyin rose with a sweep of his sleeve. Yucun's mind grew hazy and confused, and he fell asleep in that very thatched hermitage at the Ferry of Swift Currents and the Crossing of Awakening and Delusion.

Shiyin then went to save Yinglian, conveying her to the Land of Illusion, where he handed her over to the Fairy of Warning to be checked against the registers. He had just passed through the memorial archway when he saw a Buddhist monk and a Daoist priest approaching, ethereal and indistinct. Shiyin greeted them, saying: "Great Master, True One—congratulations! Have all the karmic bonds been settled and handed over?" The monk and priest said: "The karmic bonds are not yet entirely concluded, but the foolish creature has already returned. We must still take him back to his original place and set down the story of his later life, so that his descent into the world will not have been in vain." Hearing this, Shiyin clasped his hands and took his leave. The monk and priest then carried the Jade to the foot of Blue Ridge Peak and placed Precious Jade where Nüwa had refined stones to mend the heavens. Then each of them wandered off to roam the world. From then on:

"Heavenly books transmit heavenly affairs; two sets of people are but one."

On this day, the Taoist Monk of Emptiness once again passed by the foot of Blue Ridge Peak and saw that the stone left over from the repair of heaven was still there, its inscriptions as clear as ever. He read through them carefully once more from the beginning, and after the gatha at the end, he found an account of how much karmic cause and effect had been played out. He nodded and sighed, saying, "When I first read this extraordinary writing of my Stone Brother, I originally said it could be transcribed and handed down to the world, so I once made a copy. But I never saw it return to its original source. I did not know when such a fine tale would appear again. Now I understand that when Stone Brother descended to the mortal world once, he polished himself to radiance and cultivated perfect enlightenment—truly, there is no further regret. I fear that with the passage of years, the characters may become blurred and errors creep in. I had better transcribe it once more and find some idle, carefree person in this world to entrust with spreading it far and wide, so that all may know the strange not to be strange, the vulgar not to be vulgar, the true not to be true, and the false not to be false. Perhaps the toil of the dusty dream will move someone, and a bird will be asked to call them home; perhaps the mountain spirit, fond of guests, will once more transform from stone and fly away—who can say?" Having thought this through, he made another copy, tucked it into his sleeve, and went to that place of prosperity and splendor, searching everywhere. But he found none who were not men bent on establishing merit and fame, or else chatterers scheming for food and clothing—none had the leisure to bandy words with a stone. At last he came to the Ford of Rushing Torrents, the Ferry of Awakening from Delusion, where in a thatched hut a man lay asleep. Thinking he must be an idle fellow, the monk wanted to show him this transcribed *Story of the Stone*. But the man could not be roused no matter how loudly he was called. The Monk of Emptiness tugged at him again with all his might, and only then did the man slowly open his eyes, sit up, glance cursorily at the manuscript, and toss it back down, saying, "I have long seen and known all this with my own eyes. Your transcription contains no errors. I will only point out one person to you—entrust it to him to transmit, and this fresh case can be brought to its conclusion." The Monk of Emptiness hastily asked who this person was. The man said, "You must wait until a certain year, month, and day, and go to a chamber called the Studio of Mourning for the Red, where you will find a Mr. Cao Xueqin. Simply tell him that this was entrusted to him by the words of Jia Yucun, and instruct him thus and so." Having said this, he lay down and went back to sleep.

The Monk of Emptiness remembered these words firmly. He knew not how many ages and kalpas passed, but in time there was indeed a Studio of Mourning for the Red, and there he saw Mr. Cao Xueqin poring over the histories of ages past. The Monk of Emptiness told him the words of Jia Yucun and then showed him this *Story of the Stone*. Mr. Cao Xueqin smiled and said, "So it is indeed the 'words of Jia Yucun'!" The Monk of Emptiness asked, "How does the Master know this person, that you would be willing to transmit his story?" Mr. Cao Xueqin laughed and said, "They call you Emptiness, and truly your belly is empty indeed. Since these are but rustic words of pretense, as long there are no miswritten characters or contradictions, I am happy to share them with two or three kindred spirits over cups of wine after a meal, by lamplight on rainy evenings, to while away the loneliness together. There is no need for great men of rank to praise and perpetuate it—for you to go searching to the very root like this is like marking the boat to find the sword or gluing the tuning peg and trying to play the lute." When the Monk of Emptiness heard this, he threw back his head and laughed heartily, tossed down the copied manuscript, and drifted away. As he walked, he said aloud, "Truly it is all idle and absurd! Not only did the author not know, and the copyist not know, but the readers too do not know. It is nothing more than playful brushwork, to give pleasure to the feelings and delight the nature!" Later generations who saw this strange tale also inscribed a four-line gatha, turning the wheel one step further from the words that tell of the author's origins:

When it comes to the bitter and the sad, the absurd becomes all the more pitiable.

All spring from the same dream—

Laugh not at the folly of the world!