Chapter 23

Chapter 23

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Chapter 23: "Romance of the Western Chamber" — Subtle Words Carry Playful Meaning; *Peony Pavilion* — Seductive Songs Alert a Fragrant Heart

After her visit to Prospect Garden, Grand Consort Jia Yuanchun had ordered Tanchun to copy out all the poems and inscriptions composed that day, arranged in proper order, and then had edited and ranked them by merit. She also commanded that they be engraved on stone tablets in Prospect Garden as a refined and elegant undertaking for the ages. Jia Zheng accordingly directed skilled masons to be selected from various quarters to polish the stone and carve the characters in the garden. Jia Zhen supervised the work, assisted by Jia Rong, Jia Ping, and others. Since Jia Qiang was busy managing the twelve actresses and their costumes and paraphernalia and could not easily be spared, Jia Zhen also summoned Jia Chang and Jia Ling to help oversee the work. One day, the craftsmen set about their task with wax-sealing and vermilion-fixing. But of this, no more.

Now, there had been twelve young Buddhist novices from the Jade Emperor Temple and twelve young Taoist novices from the Bodhisattra Convent who had been moved out of Prospect Garden. Jia Zheng was considering sending them to various temples to reside. It happened that Madam Zhou, mother of Jia Qin, who lived on the back street, had been scheming to secure some position, large or small, for her son through Jia Zheng's household, so that he might earn some money. She happened to hear of this matter and came in a sedan chair to seek an audience with Phoenix (Wang Xifeng). Phoenix, observing that Madam Zhou had never been one to put on airs or make demands, agreed to help. She thought up a few words and went to report to Lady Wang: "These little monks and Taoist novices must absolutely not be sent elsewhere. If the Consort were to come out on a visit at any moment, they would be needed to attend her. If they are dispersed, it would be troublesome to gather them again when required. In my view, it would be better to send them to our family temple, the Iron Threshold Temple. All that would be needed is to send someone once a month with a a few taels of silver to buy firewood and rice. If they need to be called, they can be fetched in an instant — no trouble at all." Lady Wang, on hearing this, consulted Jia Zheng. Jia Zheng laughed and said, "That reminds me — it shall be so." He immediately summoned Jia Lian.

At that moment, Jia Lian was at table with Phoenix. Hearing the summons and not knowing what it was about, he put down his chopsticks and started to go. Phoenix seized his arm and laughed: "Wait a moment and listen to me. If it's any other matter, I won't interfere, but if it concerns those little monks, you must do as I say." She then coached him on exactly what to say. Jia Lian laughed: "I don't know about that. If you have the ability, go and say it yourself." Phoenix tossed her head, set down her chopsticks, and fixed him with a smile that was not quite a smile: "Are you serious, or are you joking?" Jia Lian laughed: "Young Yun, the son of your fifth sister-in-law at the west corridor, has come to me two or three times asking for a position. I agreed and told him to wait. Now this opportunity has finally come along, and you've snatched it away." Phoenix laughed: "Don't worry. In the northeast corner of the garden, the Consort said many more pine and cypress trees should be planted, and flowers should be grown beneath the pavilions. When this project comes up, I'll make sure Yun is put in charge of it." Jia Lian said: "Well, if that's the case, all right. But last night, all I wanted was to try a different position, and you made such a fuss." Phoenix burst out laughing, spat at Jia Lian, and lowered her head to eat.

Jia Lian went off laughing and found Jia Zheng in the front reception hall. It was indeed about the little monks. Jia Lian followed Phoenix's suggestion and said: "It seems Qin has really come into his own. Let this matter be entrusted to him to manage. In any case, following the established rules, Qin can draw the monthly allowance from the household." Jia Zheng did not concern himself much with such matters and, hearing Jia Lian's proposal, agreed to it accordingly. Jia Lian returned to his quarters and told Phoenix, who immediately sent someone to inform Madam Zhou. Jia Qin came to thank Jia Lian and Phoenix profusely. Phoenix then prevailed upon Jia Lian to advance three months' allowance. She had Jia Qin write out a receipt, and Jia Lian signed and stamped it, issuing the tally at once. The treasury disbursed three months' provisions — a dazzling two or three hundred taels of silver. Jia Qin casually tossed a piece to the weighmaster and told him to buy tea for his men. He then had the silver carried home to discuss with his mother. At once he hired a large donkey for himself to ride, along with several carts, and went to the corner gate of the Rong Mansion, where he called out twenty-four men. They climbed into the carts and made straight for the Iron Threshold Temple outside the city. But of this, no more.

Now then: after Grand Consort Jia Yuanchun had edited the Prospect Garden poems and inscriptions in the palace, she suddenly recalled the scenery of Prospect Garden. Since her visit, she reflected, Jia Zheng would certainly have had it respectfully locked and sealed, allowing no one to enter and disturb it — would that not make it desolate? Moreover, there were several young ladies in the family who were skilled in poetry and composition. Why not have them move in to live there, so that the fair maidens would not languish in neglect and the flowers and willows would not lose their beauty? Then she thought of Baoyu, who had grown up from childhood surrounded by his female cousins, unlike the other boys. If he were not allowed to enter, he might feel lonely and unhappy, which would inevitably cause Grandmother Jia and Lady Wang anxiety. She must also order him to move into the garden to study. Having deliberated thus, she dispatched the eunuch Xia Shouzhong to the Rong Mansion with an edict: that Baochai and the others were to be allowed to live in the garden freely, without restriction or confinement, and that Baoyu was to accompany them there to pursue his studies.Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

**Chapter 23**

*The Romance of the West Chamber's clever words carry playful meaning;

The Peony Pavilion's alluring songs awaken tender hearts*

Now, ever since Imperial Concubine Jia Yuanchun had returned to the palace after her visit to Prospect Garden on that day, she had ordered Tanchun to transcribe all the poems and inscriptions composed that day, arrange them in order, and edit them herself, ranking them by merit. She also ordered them engraved on stone tablets in Prospect Garden to commemorate this refined and elegant event for posterity. And so Jia Zheng had instructed artisans to be selected and assigned to polish the stones and carve the characters throughout Prospect Garden, with Jia Zhen supervising, along with Rong and Ping. Since Jia Qiang was already managing the twelve female actresses and their costumes and had little time to spare, Jia Zhen also summoned Jia Chang and Jia Ling to oversee the work. One day, the waxing and lacquering began, and the work commenced. But enough of this.

Now, there had been a group of twelve young Buddhist novices from the Jade Emperor Temple and twelve young Taoist novices from the Bodhisattva Temple who had been moved out of Prospect Garden. Jia Zheng was thinking of sending them to various temples to reside. As it happened, Madam Zhou, mother of Jia Qin who lived on the back street, had been scheming to come to Jia Zheng's household to seek some position, large or small, for her son, so that he could earn some money. She happened to hear about this matter and immediately came by sedan chair to seek out Sister Feng. Sister Feng, observing that she had never put on airs in the past, agreed to help her. She thought up a few words and went to report to Lady Wang: "These young monks and Taoist novices must absolutely not be sent away elsewhere. If the Imperial Concubine should come out at any moment, they would be needed to attend to her. If they are dispersed, it would be troublesome to gather them again when needed. In my opinion, it would be better to send them to our family temple, the Iron Threshold Temple. We would only need to send someone each month with a few taels of silver to buy firewood and rice. When they need to be called, they can be summoned at once—it wouldn't be any trouble at all." When Lady Wang heard this, she discussed it with Jia Zheng. Jia Zheng listened and smiled, "That reminds me—yes, that's exactly right." He immediately summoned Jia Lian.

At that moment, Jia Lian was having dinner with Sister Feng. Upon hearing the summons, not knowing what it was about, he put down his chopsticks and started to leave. Sister Feng grabbed him and pulled him back, smiling, "Hold on, listen to me. If it's any other matter, I won't interfere, but if it's about those young monks, you must do as I say." And she coached him on exactly what to say. Jia Lian smiled, "I don't know—if you have the skill, you go and say it yourself." Sister Feng tilted her head, put down her chopsticks, and looked at Jia Lian with a half-smile on her cheeks, "Are you serious, or are you just joking?" Jia Lian smiled, "Young Yun, the son of your fifth sister-in-law from the west corridor, has come to me two or three times asking for a position. I agreed and told him to wait. This matter has just come up, and now you've snatched it away." Sister Feng smiled, "Don't worry. In the northeast corner of the garden, the Imperial Concubine said many more pine and cypress trees should be planted, and flowers should be planted beneath the pavilions. When this matter comes up, I promise to have Yun manage that project." Jia Lian said, "If that's the case, then fine. But last night, I was only trying to change things up a bit, and you twisted my arm." Sister Feng burst out laughing with a snort, spat at Jia Lian, and lowered her head to eat.

Jia Lian went off smiling and met Jia Zheng in the front hall. It was indeed about the young monks. Jia Lian followed Sister Feng's suggestion and said, "It seems that Qin has really come into his own. Let this matter be entrusted to him to manage. In any case, following the established rules, we can have Qin draw the funds each month." Jia Zheng did not concern himself much with such matters, and when Jia Lian spoke thus, he agreed. Jia Lian returned to his quarters and told Sister Feng, who immediately sent someone to inform Madam Zhou. Jia Qin came to see Jia Lian and his wife, expressing boundless gratitude. Sister Feng then prevailed upon Jia Lian to advance three months' funds. She had him write a receipt, and Jia Lian signed and stamped it, and the tally was issued at once. The treasury disbursed three months' provisions—a gleaming two or three hundred taels of silver. Jia Qin casually picked up a piece and tossed it to the weighmaster, telling them to buy tea with it. He then ordered the servants to take it home and discuss it with his mother. He immediately hired a large donkey for himself to ride, hired several carts as well, went to the corner gate of the Rong Mansion, called out twenty-four men, loaded them into the carts, and headed straight for the Iron Threshold Temple outside the city. And so, for the moment, there is nothing more to tell.

Now let us speak of Jia Yuanchun. After she had edited the Prospect Garden inscriptions in the palace, she suddenly thought of the scenery in Prospect Garden. Since her visit, Jia Zheng would certainly have respectfully locked it up and not allowed anyone to enter and disturb it—wouldn't that make it lonely and desolate? Moreover, there were several sisters in the family who could compose poetry. Why not order them to live there, so that the beauties would not languish and the flowers and willows would not lose their charm? Then she thought of Baoyu, who had grown up among the sisters since childhood and was different from the other brothers. If he were not allowed to enter, he might feel lonely and unhappy, which would inevitably cause Grandmother Jia and Lady Wang to worry. She must also order him into the garden to live. Having thought this through, she sent the eunuch Xia Shouzhong to the Rong Mansion with an edict: that Baochai and the others should be allowed to live in the garden without being restricted or locked out, and that Baoyu should also be allowed to enter and continue his studies.

Having received this decree, Jia Zheng and Lady Wang waited for Xia Shouzhong to depart before reporting to Grandmother Jia and sending people to clean and prepare the various quarters, installing curtains, bed curtains, and bed hangings. When the others heard this news, they were merely indifferent, but when Baoyu heard the decree, he was beside himself with joy. He was busy planning with Grandmother Jia, wanting this and arranging that, when suddenly a maid announced, "The Master wants Baoyu." At these words, Baoyu seemed struck by a thunderbolt. All his delight vanished in an instant, and the color drained from his face. He clutched Grandmother Jia and twisted about like a stick of taffy candy, refusing to go at all costs. Grandmother Jia could only comfort him: "My precious boy, you just go. I'm here—he won't dare mistreat you. Besides, you wrote such a fine essay. I expect the Imperial Consent wants you to go in and stay, and he only wants to give you a few instructions—just to keep you from getting into mischief inside. Whatever he says, you simply answer properly." Even as she comforted him, she summoned two old nannies and instructed them, "Take Baoyu there properly, and don't let his father frighten him." The old nannies assented.

Baoyu had no choice but to go forward, managing no more than three inches at a time, shuffling his way to his father's study. As it happened, Jia Zheng was in Lady Wang's room discussing matters. Jinchuan, Caiyun, Caixia, Xiuluan, Xiufeng, and the other maids were all standing beneath the corridor eaves. When they saw Baoyu approaching, they all suppressed smiles. Jinchuan seized Baoyu's hand and whispered with a grin, "I've just put on some fragrant rouged lip salve—won't you taste it now?" Caiyun pushed Jinchuan away and laughed, "He's already uncomfortable, and you tease him. While he's still in good spirits, go in quickly." Baoyu had no choice but to edge through the door. Jia Zheng and Lady Wang were in the inner room. Zhao Yi-niang raised the portière, and Baoyu entered with a bow. He saw Jia Zheng and Lady Wang sitting opposite each other on the kang talking. Below them in a row of chairs sat Yingchun, Tanchun, Xichun, and Jia Huan. When they saw him enter, only Tanchun, Xichun, and Jia Huan rose to their feet.

Jia Zheng lifted his eyes and saw Baoyu standing before him, his countenance radiant and strikingly handsome. He glanced at Jia Huan—whose appearance was mean and shabby, whose bearing was uncouth—and suddenly thought of Jia Zhu. Then he looked at Lady Wang: she had only this one son by him, whom she cherished as a treasure, while his own beard was already turning gray. For these reasons, his usual aversion and impulse to punish Baoyu involuntarily diminished by eighty or ninety percent. After a long pause, he said, "The Imperial Consent has given instructions that you spend your days roaming about outside, growing ever more idle, and now she wants you confined and supervised, to study and practice writing with your sisters in the garden. You must apply yourself diligently. If you fail to behave properly and live within bounds, you shall answer for it!" Baoyu hastily assented several times. Lady Wang then took him by the hand and seated him beside her. The three siblings resumed their seats.

Lady Wang stroked Baoyu's neck and asked, "Have you finished the pills from the other day?" Baoyu replied, "There is one pill left." Lady Wang said, "Have ten more fetched tomorrow. Every evening before bed, have Xiren see to it that you take one." Baoyu said, "Ever since Your Ladyship gave the order, Xiren thinks of it every evening and makes sure I take it." Jia Zheng asked, "Who is Xiren?" Lady Wang said, "She's a maid." Jia Zheng said, "A maid can be called anything at all—who is so perverse as to give her such a name?" Seeing that Jia Zheng was displeased, Lady Wang tried to cover for Baoyu: "It was the Old Lady who gave her that name." Jia Zheng said, "How would the Old Lady know such a phrase? It must have been Baoyu." Seeing he could not conceal it, Baoyu stood up and answered, "I was reading poetry the other day and came across a line by an old poet: 'The fragrance of flowers assails men, and they know the day is warm.' Because this maid's surname is Hua—'flower'—I made up the name off the cuff." Lady Wang quickly interjected, "Baoyu, go back and change it. Sir Zheng, don't get angry over such a small matter." Jia Zheng said, "After all, it's harmless, and there's no need to change it. But it shows that Baoyu does not apply himself to serious pursuits and wastes his time on flowery, sensual verse." Having said this, he roared, "You wretched beast who does nothing but homework—get out at once!" Lady Wang also hurriedly said, "Go now—the Old Lady is probably waiting for you to have dinner." Baoyu assented and slowly backed out. He grinned at Jinchuan and stuck out his tongue, then fled with the two old nannies like a streak of smoke. Just as he reached the covered passageway, he saw Xiren standing leaning against the door. When she saw Baoyu return safely, her face broke into a smile and she asked, "What did he want you for?" Baoyu told her, "Nothing much—just that he was afraid I'd get into mischief in the garden, so he gave me some instructions." As he spoke, he returned to Grandmother Jia's quarters and reported what had happened. He found Lin Daiyu there and asked her, "Which place would you like to live in?" Lin Daiyu had been turning this very matter over in her mind when Baoyu suddenly asked her, and she smiled, "I've been thinking that Bamboo Lodge would be nice—I love those bamboos screening a winding balustrade. It seems more secluded than the other places." Baoyu clapped his hands and laughed, "That's exactly what my heart is set on too—I want you to live there as well. I'll stay in Happy Red Court. We'll be close to each other, and both in quiet, peaceful surroundings."

After Jia Zheng and Lady Wang received this edict, and once Xia Shouzhong had departed, they reported the matter to Grandmother Jia and sent people to go in and clean and prepare the various quarters, installing curtains, bed-hangings, and bedding. When the others heard the news, they took it calmly enough, but when Baoyu heard it, he was beside himself with joy. He was in the middle of planning with Grandmother Jia, wanting this and arranging that, when suddenly a maid came and said, "Your Lordship wants Baoyu." When Baoyu heard this, it was as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. At once his spirits evaporated and the color drained from his face. He clung to Grandmother Jia, twisting and turning like a stick of pulled sugar candy, and would rather die than go. Grandmother Jia had no choice but to comfort him: "My precious boy, just go ahead. I'm here—he won't dare mistreat you. Besides, you wrote that fine essay. Most likely the Consort wants you to move into the garden and has told him to give you a few instructions, just to make sure you don't get up to mischief in there. Whatever he says, you simply answer him properly." Even as she comforted him, she summoned two old nanny-maids and instructed them, "Take Baoyu along properly, and don't let his father frighten him." The nanny-maids assented.

Baoyu had no choice but to go forward. He could barely manage three inches with each step, shuffling along until he reached the doorway. As it happened, Jia Zheng was in Lady Wang's room discussing matters. Jinchuan, Caiyun, Caixia, Xiuluan, Xiufeng, and all the other maids were standing under the corridor eaves. When they caught sight of Baoyu, they all pressed their lips together and smiled. Jinchuan seized Baoyu's arm and whispered with a grin, "I've just dabbed this lip salve with perfume and rouge on my lips—are you going to taste it now?" Caiyun pushed Jinchuan away and laughed, "He's already feeling miserable, and you still tease him. While he's still in good spirits, go on in quickly!" Baoyu had no choice but to edge his way through the door. It turned out that Jia Zheng and Lady Wang were both in the inner room. Zhao Yi-niang raised the portière, and Baoyu stepped in with a bow. He saw Jia Zheng and Lady Wang sitting opposite each other on the kang, talking. Below them, in a row of chairs, Yingchun, Tanchun, Xichun, and Jia Huan were all seated. When they saw him enter, only Tanchun, Xichun, and Jia Huan rose to their feet.

Jia Zheng lifted his eyes and saw Baoyu standing before him—his spirit radiant, his beauty striking. He glanced at Jia Huan, whose appearance was wretched and whose bearing was crude and careless. Then suddenly he thought of Jia Zhu. He looked again at Lady Wang, who had only this one son by birth, whom she cherished as a treasure, while his own beard was already turning gray. For all these reasons, his usual distaste and inclination to punish Baoyu unconsciously diminished by eighty or ninety percent. After a long pause, he said, "The Consort has instructed me to tell you that you spend your days frolicking outside and have grown increasingly idle and lazy. She now wants you to be kept under discipline and to study reading and writing in the garden together with your cousins. You must apply yourself diligently to your studies. If once again you fail to behave properly and keep to what is expected of you, you will answer for it!" Baoyu hastily answered "Yes" several times over. Lady Wang then pulled him down to sit beside her. The three siblings resumed their seats.

Lady Wang stroked the back of Baoyu's neck and asked, "Have you finished the pills from the other day?" Baoyu replied, "There's one pill left." Lady Wang said, "Tomorrow have ten more brought out. Every night before you go to sleep, have Xiren help you take one and then go to bed." Baoyu said, "Ever since Your Ladyship gave the order, Xiren reminds me every evening and sees to it that I take it." Jia Zheng asked, "Who is this Xiren?" Lady Wang said, "She's a maid." Jia Zheng said, "A maid can be called anything at all—who is so perverse as to give her a name like that?" Seeing that Jia Zheng was displeased, Lady Wang tried to cover for Baoyu: "It was Grandmother who gave her the name." Jia Zheng said, "How would Grandmother know such a thing? It must have been Baoyu." When Baoyu saw he could not conceal the truth, he rose and answered, "I was reading poetry the other day and came upon a line from an old poet: 'The fragrance of flowers assails one, and one knows the day is warm.' Since this maid's surname is Hua—Flower—I casually gave her this name on the spot." Lady Wang quickly interjected, "Baoyu, go back and change it. Your Lordship needn't get upset over such a small matter." Jia Zheng said, "After all, it does no real harm—there's no need to change it. Still, it shows that Baoyu does not apply himself to serious pursuits but wastes his time on ornate, florid verses." With that, he roared, "You wretched beast—get out of here at once!" Lady Wang also hurriedly said, "Go on now—Grandmother will be waiting for you to have dinner." Baoyu assented, slowly backed out, stuck his tongue out at Jinchuan with a grin, and off he flew with the two nanny-maids, gone in an instant.

Just as he reached the gate of the covered passage, he found Xiren leaning against the doorpost. When she saw Baoyu return safe and sound, her face broke into a smile. "What did they call you for?" she asked. Baoyu told her, "Nothing much. They just didn't want me getting up to mischief in the garden, so they gave me a few instructions." As he spoke, he returned to Grandmother Jia's quarters and reported what had happened. He found Lin Daiyu there and asked her, "Which place would you like to live in?" Daiyu had been turning this very question over in her mind when Baoyu suddenly asked her. She smiled and said, "I've been thinking that the Bamboo Lodge would be nice. I love those bamboos half-hidden behind a winding balustrade—it feels more secluded and tranquil than anywhere else." Baoyu clapped his hands and laughed, "That's exactly what my heart was set on too—I want you to live there as well. I'll stay in Happy Red Court. We'll be close to each other, and both our places will be quiet and serene."

The two were still deliberating when Jia Zheng sent a message to the Lady Dowager, saying, "The twenty-second of the second month is an auspicious day. The young masters and mistresses may then move in. Within the next few days I shall send people to assign quarters and put everything in order." Xue Baochai moved into the All-spice Court, Lin Daiyu into the Bamboo Lodge, Jia Yingchun into the Tower of Brocaded Brocades, Tanchun into the Studio of Autumn Freshness, Xichun into the Smartweed Breeze Cot, Li Wan into the Sweet Paddy Village, and Baoyu into the Happy Red Court. Two old nannies and four maids were added to each residence, not counting each person's own nurse and personal maids; in addition, there were special servants assigned to tidying and cleaning. On the twenty-second they all moved in, and at once the Garden was filled with fluttering silks and embroidered sashes, willows wafting fragrance on the breeze—a far cry from its former desultory quiet.

But to return to Baoyu. Since entering the Garden he had been perfectly content and had no further cravings. Every day he spent his time with his female cousins and the maids, reading, writing, playing the zither or chess, painting and composing poetry, embroidering mandarin ducks and phoenixes, vying at the "grass game," tucking flowers into their hair, singing softly in low voices, cracking riddles, guessing coins, and so on—in short, he was perfectly happy. He had written several poems on the spur of the moment. Though not particularly good, they were true reflections of real feelings and scenes, and a few may be recorded here:

**Spring Night**

A gauze canopy and cloud-white bedspread are freely spread,

From across the lane the watchman's drum sounds indistinctly.

On the pillow a light chill, beyond the window rain,

The spring hues before my eyes, the person in my dream.

The candles weep—for whom do they sob?

The flowers grieve—at whom are they peeved?

It is simply that my little maid has grown accustomed to being coy and lazy,

She cannot bear too much laughing and talking while clutching the quilt.

**Summer Night**

The weary embroiderer sleeps long in her dream,

The golden cage's parrot calls for tea.

The bright window, musk-scented moonlight, opens the palace mirror,

The fragrant room, sandalwood clouds, savors the imperial incense.

The amber cup tilts, the lotus dew is smooth,

The glass railing receives the cool willow breeze.

The water pavilion everywhere stirs gauze fans,

The curtain rolls up in the red tower—evening toilet finished.

**Autumn Night**

Inside the Crimson Coral Study all clamor ceases,

The osmanthus moon's flowing light soaks through the madder-red gauze.

Moss locks the stone's pattern, accommodating the sleeping crane,

The well scatters tung-tree dew, dampening the roosting crows.

The maid arrives with the quilt, spreading the golden phoenix,

The one leaning by the railing returns, shedding emerald flowers.

A sleepless quiet night because of thirst from wine,

The heavy incense is re-poked, to brew tea is sought.

**Winter Night**

The plum's soul and bamboo's dream—already the third watch,

The brocade quilt and kingfisher-feather coverlet—sleep not yet achieved.

Pine shadows fill the courtyard, only cranes are seen,

Pear blossoms cover the ground, no orioles are heard.

The maiden's emerald sleeves, her poetic heart cold,

The young master's golden marten, his wine-strength light.

Yet I rejoice that my maid knows how to test the brewing,

Sweeping fresh snow to steep in time.

Because of these poems, certain worldly people at the time, seeing they were written by a twelve- or thirteen-year-old young master of the Duke of Rong's Mansion, copied them out and praised them everywhere. Then there was a frivolous set of young gentlemen who fell in love with the amorous and bewitching lines, writing them on fans and walls, humming and admiring them from time to time. As a result, people actually came seeking poems and characters, requesting paintings and asking for inscriptions. Baoyu became even more carried away, spending all day on these outside pursuits.

Who would have thought that trouble would arise from tranquillity? Suddenly one day he felt out of sorts—this was not right, that was not right, and going in and out he was simply listless. Most of the people in the Garden were girls, still in a world of innocent ignorance, guileless and carefree, sitting and lying down without ceremony, laughing without restraint. How could they know what was on Baoyu's mind? Baoyu, inwardly restless, became too lazy to stay in the Garden and idled about outside instead, yet still in a daze. Mingyan, seeing him in this state, tried to think of some way to cheer him up. He racked his brains, but everything Baoyu had grown bored with; nothing could lift his spirits. Only one thing Baoyu had never seen before. Having thought of this, he went to a bookshop and bought a whole pile of ancient and modern novels, as well as the unofficial histories of Feiyan, Wu Zetian, Yang Guifei, and the like, together with romantic tales and play scripts, and brought them to show Baoyu. Baoyu had never seen such books before, and the moment he set eyes on them he treasured them like precious jewels. Mingyan warned him not to take them into the Garden: "If anyone finds out, I'll be in real trouble!" How could Baoyu bear not to take them in? After much hesitation he picked out only a few of the more refined ones to smuggle in, which he hid on top of his bed to read in private when no one was around. The coarser, more explicit ones he kept in his outside study.

One day, in mid-spring after the spring sacrifices, Baoyy finished breakfast and took a copy of The Story of the Western Chamber to a rock beneath a peach tree by the Rainbow Bridge Weir. He sat down and opened the book, reading it carefully from the beginning. Just as he reached the passage "a shower of fallen blossoms," a gust of wind blew down more than half the peach blossoms from the tree, covering his person, his book, and the ground all around. He wanted to shake them off but feared treading on them, so he gathered up the petals and went to the pool to shake them into the water. The petals floated on the surface, drifting and bobbing, and floated out through the weir.

When he turned back he saw that many blossoms still lay on the ground. As he stood hesitating, he heard someone behind him ask, "What are you doing here?" He turned around—it was Lin Daiyu. She carried a flower hoe on her shoulder, from which hung a flower basket, and in her hand she held a flower broom. Baoyu laughed. "Good, good—come sweep up these flowers and throw them into the water. I've already thrown a good many in there." Lin Daiyu said, "It's not good to throw them in the water. The water here is clean, but once it flows out, it gets mixed with all the filth where people live, and the flowers will be spoiled after all. Over in that corner I have a flower grave. Let me sweep them up now, put them in this silk bag, and bury them with earth. In time they'll simply dissolve with the soil—wouldn't that be cleaner?"

The two were still discussing the matter when a servant came from Jia Zheng to report to the Lady Dowager: "The twenty-second of the second month is an auspicious day for the young masters and mistresses to move in. We will send people in over the next few days to assign rooms and make arrangements."

Xue Baochai moved into the All-Spice Court, Lin Daiyu into the Bamboo Lodge, Jia Yingchun into the Tower of Brocade, Tan-chun into the Studio of Autumn Freshness, Xi-chun into the Smartweed Breeze Cot, Li Wan into the Sweet-Rice Village, and Baoyu into Happy Red Court. Two old nannies and four maids were assigned to each residence, in addition to each person's own nurse and personal maids, with extra servants specially designated for cleaning and maintenance. On the twenty-second, they all moved in together, and at once the garden came alive with fluttering ribbons and embroidered sashes, willows brushing and fragrant winds stirring—a far cry from its former desolation.

But enough of this. Let us return to Baoyu, who since entering the garden had been perfectly content, with no further desires or cravings. Each day he spent with his female cousins and the maids—reading, practicing calligraphy, playing the zither or chess, painting and composing poetry, embroidering mandarin ducks and phoenixes, competing at the grass game, wearing flowers in their hair, softly singing, whispering, breaking up characters for riddles, and guessing beans—indeed every sort of amusement was theirs, and he was thoroughly happy. He had written several poems on the occasions of daily life, which though not exceptional, were genuine records of real feelings and real scenes. Here are a few:

**Spring Night**

Bedding of rosy gauze and cloud-white curtains spread at will,

The night-watchman's drum from across the lane heard but faintly.

Coolness on the pillow, rain beyond the window,

Spring hues before the eyes, the beloved in dreams.

Why does the candle weep so copiously?

Why do the flowers frown in reproach for me?

It is simply that the little maid has grown too lazy and spoiled—

She burrows in her quilt, unable to bear much laughter and chatter.

**Summer Night**

The weary embroiderer dreams long in the quiet room,

The golden-caged parrot calls for tea.

Bright as the moon, musk-scented, the palace mirror is opened,

The room is steeped in sandalwood incense, the imperial fragrance savored.

From the amber cup drips lotus dew, smooth and cool,

Through the glass railing the willow breeze flows, refreshing.

Everywhere by the waterside pavilions, white silk fans flutter,

The beaded curtain rolls up in the red tower—evening toilette abandoned.

**Autumn Night**

In the Crimson Study, all clamor is banished,

The moon's pale light soaks through the madonna-red gauze.

Moss seals the stone's pattern where sleeping cranes are sheltered,

Dew falls from the plane tree by the wet well, dampening the roosting crows.

The maid arrives with the quilt, releasing the golden phoenix,

The one by the railing returns, her emerald hairpins falling.

Sleepless on the quiet night, parched from wine,

She rekindles the heavy incense and calls for tea to be brewed.

**Winter Night**

The plum's soul and bamboo's dream—already the third watch,

Brocade blankets and marten quilts—sleep still will not come.

Pine shadows fill the courtyard, only cranes are seen,

Pear blossoms cover the ground, no orioles are heard.

The girl's green sleeves, her poetic heart chilled,

The young master's golden marten cape, the wine's strength light.

Yet he is glad his maid knows how to test the tea—

She sweeps up fresh snow and brews it in good time.

Because of these poems, certain worldly people at the time, learning they were composed by a twelve- or thirteen-year-old young master of the Duke of Rong's mansion, copied them out and praised them everywhere. And certain frivolous young gentlemen, enamored of the flirtatious and seductive lines, wrote them on their fans and on walls, reciting and admiring them constantly. As a result, people actually came seeking poems and inscriptions, requesting paintings and colophons. Baoyu became more carried away than ever, spending all day on these outside pursuits.

Who would have thought that trouble would arise in the midst of contentment? Suddenly one day he felt uneasy—this was not right, that was not right, and coming and going he was simply listless. Most of the people in the garden were girls, still in a state of innocence and unselfconscious play, sitting and lying down without ceremony, laughing and joking without restraint. They had no idea what was on Baoyu's mind. Baoyu, feeling restless inside, grew lazy about staying in the garden and only wandered about outside, yet absent-mindedly. Minding his mood, Mingyan tried to think of something to amuse him. He racked his brains, but everything Baoyu had grown bored with and could not entertain him—except for this one thing, which Baoyu had never seen. Having settled on this, he went to a bookshop and bought a great many old and modern novels, along with the unofficial biographies of Fei Yan, He De, Empress Wu, and Imperial Consort Yang, as well as scripts of romantic tales, and brought them to show Baoyu. Baoyu had never seen such books before, and the moment he laid eyes on them he treasured them as precious things. Mingyan warned him on no account to bring them into the garden: "If anyone finds out, I'll be in for it and no mistake." How could Baoyu bear not to bring them in? After much hesitation, he selected only the more carefully written ones and smuggled a few sets inside, hiding them on the top of his bed to read in secret when no one was around. The cruder and more explicit ones he kept in the study outside.

One day, in mid-March, after breakfast, Baoyu took a copy of *The Story of the Western Wing* and went to sit on a rock beneath the peach trees by the Flower-Drifting Bridge. He opened *The Story of the Western Wing* and began to read it carefully from the beginning. Just as he reached the passage about "a whirl of fallen red," a gust of wind blew down more than half the peach blossoms from the tree, covering him, his book, and the ground all around. Baoyu wanted to shake them off but feared treading underfoot, so he gathered up the petals and went to the pool's edge to shake them into the water. The petals floated on the surface, drifting and bobbing, and floated out through the Flower-Drifting Bridge.

When he returned, he saw there were still many petals on the ground. As he stood hesitating, he heard a voice behind him: "What are you doing here?" Baoyu turned around—it was Lin Daiyu. She carried a flower hoe on her shoulder, with a flower basket hanging from the hoe and a flower broom in her hand. Baoyu smiled: "Good, good! Come sweep these flowers up and throw them in the water. I've already thrown quite a few in there." Lin Daiyu said: "Throwing them in the water is no good. The water here is clean, but once it flows out, it gets mixed with the filthy and foul water of people's houses, and the flowers are spoiled all the same. In that corner I have a flower grave. Let me sweep them up now, put them in this silk pouch, and bury them in the earth. In time they will simply dissolve with the soil—wouldn't that be clean?"

Baoyu was overjoyed and laughed, saying, "Let me put down my book and help you tidy up."

Daiyu asked, "What book?"

Baoyu, caught off guard, hastily tried to hide it and said, "Nothing but *The Doctrine of the Mean* and *The Great Learning*."

Daiyu laughed, "You're trying to trick me again. Let me have a look right now—it's all the better for me to see it."

Baoyu said, "Dear sister, as far as you're concerned, I'm not afraid. But after you read it, please don't tell anyone else. Truly, this is a wonderful book! Once you read it, you won't even feel like eating."

As he spoke, he handed it over.

Daiyu set down all her flower tools and took the book to read. She read from the beginning and grew more and more absorbed. In less than the time it takes for a meal, she had finished all sixteen scenes. She was struck by the brilliance of the language, which lingered in her mouth like a sweet fragrance. Though she had finished reading, she remained lost in thought, silently reciting passages in her heart.

Baoyu laughed, "Sister, tell me—is it good or not?"

Daiyu laughed, "Truly, it's fascinating."

Baoyu laughed, "I am the 'sickly, melancholy body,' and you are the 'peerless beauty who could topple kingdoms.'"

When Daiyu heard this, her cheeks and ears flushed crimson. Immediately her brows, which always seemed to be knit, drew together sharply, and her eyes, which always seemed half-open, widened. With anger rising in her delicate face, she pointed at Baoyu and said, "You wretched fool! You bring these lewd and lascivious songs here, and then use such vulgar talk to insult me. I shall tell Uncle and Aunt about this."

When she reached the word "insult," her eyes had already reddened, and she turned to leave.

Baoyu was alarmed and rushed forward to stop her. "Dear sister, please spare me this once—I spoke wrongly. If I had any intention of insulting you, may I tomorrow fall into the pond and be swallowed by a bald-headed great turtle, and turn into a big tortoise. And when you become a First Lady and pass away in old age, I shall come to your tombstone and carry it on my back for the rest of my life."

This made Daiyu burst out laughing through her tears. She rubbed her eyes and said with a smile, "You nearly frightened me with all that, and yet you keep babbling on. *Tsk*—so you are all show and no substance, a lead-tipped spear that looks like silver but is useless."

Baoyu laughed when he heard this, "And you? I'll go and tell on you too."

Daiyu laughed, "You say you can memorize anything after one reading—do you think I cannot read ten lines at a glance?"

Baoyu put the book away, laughing, "The serious thing is to bury the flowers quickly—let's not talk about that any more."

The two of them then gathered the fallen blossoms and were just finishing their burial when Xiren came over and said, "I couldn't find you anywhere—so you're here. The Master on the elder side is unwell, and all the young ladies have gone over to pay their respects. The Old Lady asked me to send you back. Go quickly and change your clothes."

Baoyu, upon hearing this, hastily took his book, bade Daiyu farewell, and returned to his room with Xiren to change his clothes—but of this no more.

Here, Daiyu, seeing that Baoyu had left and hearing that her cousins were also not in their rooms, felt a dull melancholy creeping over her. Just as she was about to return to her own room, she reached the corner of the Pear Fragrance Court and heard from within the walls the melodious sound of flutes and the graceful notes of singing. Daiyu knew it must be the twelve girls rehearsing opera. However, she had never much cared for theatrical performances, so she paid no attention and kept walking forward. By chance, two lines drifted clearly to her ear, every word distinct:

*"Purple and red blossoms bloomed everywhere,*

*Yet all was left to broken wells and crumbling walls."*

When Daiyu heard this, she was filled with emotion and lingering melancholy. She stopped and listened carefully, and then heard:

*"Fair hours and fine scenery—what can one do with them?*

*Whose courtyard holds the pleasures of the heart?"*

Hearing these two lines, she nodded and sighed to herself, thinking: "So there is fine writing in opera too. It's a pity that people only know how to watch plays without ever being able to appreciate the flavor of such things."

But then she regretted that she had let her thoughts wander and missed listening to the tune. She listened again, and heard:

*"For you, a beauty like flowers,*

*A life like flowing water..."*

When Daiyu heard these two lines, her heart stirred and her spirit trembled. Then she heard lines like "You pity yourself, hidden in your chamber," and she became intoxicated and dazed, unable to stand. She sat down on a piece of rocky hillside, savoring the taste of those eight words: "a beauty like flowers, a life like flowing water."

Suddenly she remembered a line from an ancient poet she had read the other day: "Flowers fall and water flows—neither has any feeling." Then there was the lyric: "Flowing water, fallen flowers—spring is gone; one is in heaven, one on earth." And she also recalled the line from *The Romance of the Western Chamber* she had just read: "Flowers fall and water runs red—ten thousand kinds of idle sorrow."

All these came to her mind at once and gathered together. Turning them over carefully, she felt her heart ache and her spirit grow numb, and tears fell from her eyes.

Just when she was at a loss, she suddenly felt a tap on her back. She turned her head to look—and it was...

But listen to the next chapter for the rest. As the verse says:

*In dressing at dawn and embroidering by night, the heart is at peace;*

*Facing the moon and standing in the wind, there is regret.*

Baoyu was overjoyed. He laughed and said, "Let me put down my book and help you tidy up."

Daiyu said, "What book?"

When Baoyu was thus questioned, he panicked and hastily tried to hide it. "Nothing but *The Doctrine of the Mean* and *The Great Learning*," he said.

Daiyu laughed. "You're trying to pull one over on me again. Show it to me right now—it must be something quite good."

Baoyu said, "Dear sister, if it were anyone else I wouldn't mind. But after you've read it, please don't tell anyone else. Truly, this is a wonderful book! Once you read it, you won't even want to eat your meals."

As he spoke, he handed it over.

Lin Daiyu set down all her flower implements and took the book. She read it from the beginning and the more she read, the more she loved it. In less than the time it took to eat a meal, she had finished reading all sixteen acts. She found the language stunning and its lingering sweetness filled her mouth. Though she had finished the book, she sat lost in thought, silently committing the lines to memory.

Baoyu laughed and said, "Sister, tell me—is it good or not?"

Lin Daiyu smiled. "It really is interesting."

Baoyu laughed. "I am the 'man of many sorrows and many ailments,' and you are the 'beauty that could topple cities and kingdoms.'"

When Lin Daiyu heard this, her cheeks and ears flushed crimson. Her two brows, which always seemed about to knit but never quite did, immediately shot upward. Her eyes, which always seemed half-closed but never quite so, opened wide. Her cheeks tinged with anger and her face showing reproach, she pointed at Baoyu and said, "You wretched fool! You bring this obscene, lascivious stuff here and then learn such filthy talk to insult me. I'll tell Uncle and Aunt about this."

When she reached the word "insult," her eyes had already reddened, and she turned to leave.

Baoyu grew frantic and stepped forward to block her way. "Dear sister, please spare me this once—it was my fault. If I ever meant to insult you, may I tomorrow fall into the pond and be swallowed by a bald-headed turtle, and turn into a great turtle, so that when you become a 'First-Rank Lady' and pass away at the end of your days, I will carry a tombstone on your grave for the rest of my life!"

At this, Lin Daiyu burst out laughing. She rubbed her eyes and said with a smile, "You really do know how to scare someone with that sort of talk, and yet you keep babbling nonsense. 'Tut! So you're all show and no substance—a tin spearhead that looks like silver.'"

Baoyu laughed when he heard this. "And what about you? I'll tell on you too!"

Lin Daiyu smiled. "You say you can memorize something after one reading—does that mean I can't read ten lines at a glance?"

Baoyu put the book away, laughing as he did so. "Never mind all that—let's hurry up and bury the flowers properly."

The two of them then gathered up the fallen blossoms and had just finished burying them properly when Xiren came looking for him. "I couldn't find you anywhere—I had to feel my way here. The Master on the other side is unwell, and all the young ladies have gone over to pay their respects. The Old Ancestress told me to send you back. Go quickly and change your clothes."

Baoyu listened, hastily took his book, bid Daiyu farewell, and went back to his room with Xiren to change his clothes—but no more of that.

Here, Lin Daiyu saw Baoyu depart and heard that the other cousins were also not in their rooms. She felt despondent. Just as she was about to return to her own quarters, she had barely reached the corner of the Pear Fragrance Court wall when she heard the melodious sound of flutes and the plaintive notes of singing from within. Lin Daiyu knew it was the twelve girls rehearsing their opera pieces. However, Lin Daiyu had never much cared for opera, so she paid no attention and continued walking. By chance, two lines drifted clearly to her ear, every word distinct:

*"All the riot of blossoms opens before one's eyes—*

*Yet all this is given over to crumbling wells and ruined walls."*

When Lin Daiyu heard this, she was filled with emotion and a lingering melancholy. She stopped and listened more carefully. The next lines came:

*"Fine hours and lovely scenery—but what can one do with them?*

*Where, in whose courtyard, are the heart's delights and joyous events?"*

Upon hearing these two lines, she nodded to herself with a sigh and thought: "So there are fine passages in opera too. It's a pity that people only know how to watch opera and may never be able to savor the beauty within."

But having thought this, she immediately regretted letting her mind wander and missing the rest of the song. She listened again and heard:

*"For you, a flower-like beauty, and years that flow like water..."*

When Lin Daiyu heard these two lines, her heart was stirred and her spirit shaken. She then heard the lines "You pity yourself in your secluded boudoir" and the like, and she became so intoxicated that she could not stand. She sank down and sat on a piece of ornamental rock, savoring deeply the flavor of those eight words: "a flower-like beauty, and years that flow like water."

Suddenly she recalled a line from an ancient poem she had read the other day: "Flowers fall and waters pass—both without feeling." Then she remembered a line from a lyric: "Flowing water, fallen flowers—spring has departed; it is now heaven and earth apart." And she also recalled the line from *The Romance of the Western Chamber* she had just read: "Flowers drift on the water, red; a thousand kinds of idle sorrow."

All these came to her mind at once, gathering together. She pondered them carefully, and without realizing it, her heart ached, her spirit was entranced, and tears fell from her eyes.

Just as she was at her wits' end, she suddenly felt a tap on her back. She turned her head to look—and it was...

Listen to the next chapter for the explanation.

Indeed:

*In morning dress and evening embroidery, the heart is now still;*

*Facing the moon and standing in the wind, resentment yet remains.*

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