Chapter 37

Chapter 37

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Chapter 37

Autumn Studio Leads to the Formation of the Crab-Apple Poetry Club; The Alpinia Garden Inspires a List of Conundrums on Chrysanthemums

In the same year, Jia Zheng was again appointed an Imperial Inspector of Schools and chose to set out on the twentieth day of the eighth month. On that day, he paid his respects at the family shrine and took leave of the Dowager before departing. Baoyu and the other young men of the family escorted him to the Pavilion of Shedding Tears.

After Jia Zheng had left, many events occurred outside the household that need not be recounted in detail. Suffice it to say that from then on, Baoyu spent his days roaming the Garden in whatever way he pleased, truly squandering his time and adding to his years to no purpose. One day, when he was feeling particularly bored, he saw Cui Mo come in carrying a decorative writing card, which she handed to him. Baoyu said, "I forgot—I was just saying I should go see Third Sister. Is she better? You might have come at just the right time." Cui Mo replied, "The young lady is better. She's not even taking medicine today—just a slight chill." Hearing this, Baoyu unfolded the writing card and read:

Your sister Tan respectfully presents this to her elder brother's desk: Last night, after the recent rain cleared, the moonlight was as pure as if the world had been washed clean. Reluctant to let such a lovely scene pass, I could not bear to lie down. By the time the water clock had turned three times, I was still lingering beneath the paulownia railing, not guarding against the wind and dew, and so I fell ill with a common ailment. Yesterday you were kind enough to comfort and instruct me, and then sent your maids several times to inquire after my condition, along with fresh lychees and the calligraphy of Lord Zhenqing. How deep and touching your loving kindness! Now, as I lie resting on my couch in quiet reflection, I have been thinking of how, since ancient times, even those who found themselves in the battlegrounds of fame and fortune would still set aside some small patch of hills and streams, inviting guests near and far, going to great lengths to keep companions close, determined to gather two or three like-minded friends to spend time together—sometimes establishing a literary forum, or founding a poetry club. Though these were spontaneous impulses of the moment, they became celebrated tales handed down through the ages. Your sister, though lacking in talent, has the privilege of dwelling amid springs and rocks, and at the same time admires the literary skills of Xue and Lin. The breezy courtyards and moonlit terraces have yet to host gatherings of poets; perhaps the apricot blossoms by the curtain and the peach blossoms by the stream might yet inspire cups of wine and flights of verse. Who says that the bold talents of the Lotus Society were reserved only for men, or that the refined gatherings of the Eastern Mountain should be ceded exclusively to women? If you would deign to come across the snow, your sister will be ready to sweep the flowers in welcome. Respectfully presented.

When Baoyu had read this, he clapped his hands in delight and laughed. "What refined taste Third Sister has! I'll go discuss it with her right away." As he spoke, he started off, with Cui Mo following behind. They had just reached the Seeping Fragrance Pavilion when they met an old woman on duty at the back gate of the Garden, who was carrying a note. Seeing Baoyu, she came forward and said, "Master Yun sends his respects. He's waiting at the back gate and asked me to deliver this." Baoyu opened it and read:

Your unworthy son Yun respectfully wishes his Father peace and prosperity. Ever since I received the Heavenly favor of being acknowledged as your son, I have thought day and night of how I might show my filial piety, yet I have never found an opportunity to do so. Previously, when purchasing flowers and plants, I had the good fortune of relying on your esteemed influence and came to know many gardeners and many famous gardens. Recently, I happened upon a variety of white begonia that is extremely rare. I exhausted every means to obtain just two pots. If you would look upon me as truly your own son, please keep them and enjoy them. Because of the summer heat, I feared it would be inconvenient for the young ladies in the Garden, so I did not dare to present them in person. I send this letter with respectful greetings and also wish you peace! Your son Yun, kneeling.

Baoyu read it and laughed. "So he's the only one who came—who else is there?" The old woman said, "There are also two pots of flowers." Baoyu said, "Go out and tell him I appreciate the thought. Just bring the flowers to my rooms." As he spoke, he went with Cui Mo to Autumn Studio, where he found Baochai, Daiyu, Yingchun, and Xichun already assembled.

When the others saw him come in, they all laughed and said, "Here comes another one." Tanchun said, "I don't consider myself ordinary—I had a sudden impulse and wrote a few notes to test the waters, and to my surprise, everyone responded." Baoyu said, "What a pity we didn't do this sooner—we should have started a club long ago." Daiyu said, "You all go ahead and form your club, but don't count me in—I wouldn't dare." Yingchun laughed. "If you don't dare, who else would?" Baoyu said, "This is a serious matter—everyone should be enthusiastic about it and stop being so deferential. Let each person speak his or her mind and we'll discuss it together. Elder Sister Bao, you offer your thoughts, and Sister Lin, you say something too." Baochai said, "What's the rush? Not everyone is here yet." Before she had finished speaking, Li Wan also arrived. She came in laughing. "How refined! If you're starting a poetry club, I volunteer to be its president. I actually had this idea last spring. But then I thought it over—I can't write poetry myself, so what would I be doing meddling? So I forgot about it and never mentioned it. Since Third Sister is so enthusiastic, I'll help you get it going."

Daiyu said, "Since you insist on forming a poetry club, we're all poets now. We must first get rid of these sister- and sister-in-law-style titles, or it'll be dreadfully vulgar."

Li Wan said, "Quite right. Why not each take a special name? That would be much more refined. I've already settled on 'Old Farmer of the Rice Fragrance'—nobody else can claim that."

Tanchun smiled. "Then I'll be 'The Retired Scholar of Autumn Freshness.'"

Baoyu said, "Scholar' and 'master' aren't quite right—they're also too wordy. There are paulownia trees and plantain here. Why not take a name from one of those?"

Tanchun laughed. "I've got it. I love the plantain best. Let me be 'The Guest Beneath the Plantain.'"

Everyone agreed it was original and amusing.

Daiyu smiled. "Quick, drag him away and roast his haunch for wine!"

The others didn't understand. Daiyu laughed and said, "The ancients wrote, 'The plantain leaves covered the deer.' He calls himself 'The Guest Beneath the Plantain'—isn't he a deer? Quick, make deer jerky!"

Everyone burst out laughing.

Tanchun then said, "Don't use your clever talk to mock me so hastily. I've already thought of a perfectly fine elegant name for you." Turning to the others, she said, "In ancient times, the tears of Ehuang and Nüying fell on bamboo and left spots, so the speckled bamboo is also known as Xiangfeizi bamboo. Now she lives in the Bamboo Lodge, and she loves to cry. In the future, when she thinks of her Mr. Lin, those bamboo will turn into speckled bamboo too. From now on, let's simply call her 'The Princess of the Bamboo Lodge.'" Everyone clapped their hands and cried out in admiration. Lin Daiyu lowered her head and said nothing.

Li Wan said, "I've already thought of a good one for Elder Sister Xue—just three words." Xichun and Yingchun both asked what it was.

Li Wan said, "I've named her 'The Lord of the Alpinia Garden.' What do you think?"

Tanchun smiled. "That's an excellent title."

Baoyu said, "What about me? Think of one for me too."

Baochai said with a smile, "You already have a name. 'Idle Busybody' fits you perfectly."

Li Wan said, "You might as well keep your old name, 'The Master of the Crimson Cave of Flowers.'"

Baoyu laughed. "That's something from when I was a child. Why bring it up?"

Tanchun said, "You have plenty of names already—why come up with another? If we want to call you something, just answer to it."

Baochai said, "Let me give you a name too. There's one very ordinary name, but it suits you perfectly. In this world, wealth and honor are rare, and leisure are also rare—these two are even harder to have together. But you have both. Why not call you 'The Wealthy Idle One'?"

Baoyu laughed. "I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it. Just call me whatever you like."

Li Wan said, "What about Second Sister and Fourth Sister? What names shall we give them?"

Yingchun said, "We're not much good at poetry anyway. What's the point of taking names?"

Tanchin said, "Even so, you should have one."

Baochai said, "She lives on Purple Caltrop Isle—let her be 'Caltrop Isle.' Little Fourth Sister lives in the Lotus Fragrance Pavilion—let her be 'Lotus Pavilion.' That settles it."

Li Wan said, "That's perfect. But in order of age, I'm the eldest, and you must all follow my wishes. Then whatever I say will please everyone. The seven of us are forming this club, but I, Second Sister, and Fourth Sister can't write poetry, so the three of us must be excused. Each of us will take on one task instead."

Tanchun smiled. "We already have names, yet you still address us like that—it's as if we didn't have them at all. From now on, if anyone makes a mistake, there must be a penalty agreed upon."

Li Wan said, "Once the club is formally established, we'll set the penalties. My place is spacious—let's hold the gatherings there. Though I can't write poetry, these poet friends won't mind a vulgar guest. I'll be the host, and naturally I'll become refined myself. If you want me to be president, one president isn't enough—I'll need two vice-presidents. Let Caltrop Isle and Lotus Pavilion serve as our learned examiners. One will set the topics and rhyme schemes, the other will do the copying and supervise. But we three shouldn't be absolutely forbidden from writing. If we come across an easy topic with simple rhymes, we'll write a poem too. But you four must be held to the limit. If you agree, let's start. If you won't follow me, I won't tag along either."

Yingchun and Xichun were by nature lazy about poetry, and with Xue and Lin ahead of them, this arrangement suited them perfectly. Both said, "Exactly right."

Tanchun and the others understood this reasoning too. Seeing the two of them so content, they couldn't force the matter and had to agree. Tanchun laughed and said, "Very well then. But it's funny—I came up with the idea, and instead the three of you end up managing me."

Baoyu said, "In that case, let's go to the Village of Fragrant Rice."

Li Wan said, "It's all your doing, rushing about. We've just discussed it today—I'll send the invitations later."

Baochai said, "We should also decide how often to meet."

Tanchun said, "If we meet too often, it'll be boring. Twice or three times a month is enough."

Baochai nodded. "Twice a month will do."

They fixed the dates, to be observed regardless of wind or rain. On other days, if anyone felt inclined, they could add an extra gathering if they wished, or go to someone's home, or simply join in—wouldn't that be lively and fun?

Everyone said, "This idea is even better."

"I started this whole idea," said Tanchun, "so I ought to play host first, to do justice to my own enthusiasm."

Li Wan said, "In that case, why not start a society tomorrow?"

"Why wait for tomorrow? Today would be better. This very moment is fine. You set the subject, Lingzhou prescribes the rhyme, and Ouxie supervises."

Yingchun said, "In my opinion, instead of letting any one person set the rhyme, we should draw lots—that's fairer."

"Just now when I came in," said Li Wan, "I saw them carry in two pots of white begonias. They're lovely flowers. Why don't you write poems about them?"

"We haven't even admired them yet, and you want us to write poems first?" said Yingchun.

Baochai said, "It's only white begonia. Why must you see something before you write about it? The poems and rhapsodies of the ancients were all written to express their feelings and moods. If they had all waited till they'd seen their subject, there wouldn't be so many poems now."

"If that's how it is," said Yingchun, "let me fix the rhyme then." She went to the bookshelf, pulled out a volume of poetry, and opened it at random. It was a poem in regulated verse of seven characters per line. She showed it to the others, and they all agreed they should write seven-character regulated verse. Yingchun closed the book and said to a young maid who happened to be standing by the door, "Say any word that comes into your head."

The maid, leaning against the doorframe, said, "Door."

Yingchun laughed. "Very well, the rhyme category 'door'—that's the Thirteenth Yuan. The first rhyme word must be 'door.'" She then asked for the box of rhyme-word tablets and drew out the Thirteenth Yuan drawer. She told the maid to pick out four tablets at random. The maid took out four: "basin," "soul," "trace," and "dusk."

"'Basin' and 'door' are rather difficult to work with!" said Baoyu.

When paper and brushes had been laid out in four sets, they all quietly set about composing. Only Daiyu was different—sometimes stroking the parasol tree, sometimes gazing at the autumn scenery, sometimes joking with the maids. Yingchun told a maid to light a stick of "Sweet Dream Incense." This incense was only about three inches long, as thick as a lamp wick, and burned up very quickly. Its burning time set the limit; if a poem was not finished before it burned out, there was a penalty. Before long, Tanchun was the first to finish. She wrote it out herself, revised it a couple of times, and handed it to Yingchun. Then she asked, "Hengwu Jun, have you got yours?"

"I have," said Baochai, "but it's not very good."

Baoyu walked back and forth along the corridor with his hands behind his back. "Listen," he said to Daiyu, "they've all finished."

"Don't bother me," said Daiyu.

Baoyu saw that Baochai had already copied her poem out. "Good heavens! There's only an inch of incense left, and I've only got four lines." He turned to Daiyu again. "The incense is nearly done—what are you crouching there on the damp ground for?"

Daihu paid him no attention.

"I can't look after you any more," said Baoyu. "You'd better write something." He went to the desk and wrote.

"We're going to read the poems now," said Li Wan. "Anyone who doesn't hand in a poem after we've read them will be punished."

"Though Squire of Fragrant Rice isn't good at writing, she's excellent at judging, and she's the fairest of all. You grade the poems for us, and we'll all accept your verdict."

"Naturally," everyone agreed.

Then they read Tanchun's draft first:

On the White Begonia—rhymes limited to door, basin, soul, trace, dusk

The slanting sun and cold weeds crowd the double door;

Green moss covers the basin after the rain.

Jade-like in spirit, hard to match in purity;

Snow-like in flesh and bone, easily stirring the soul.

A tender heart, delicate and frail,

A lovely shadow under the midnight moon, leaving its trace.

Do not say the white-robed fairy can fly away on wings—

She keeps me company, singing of dusk in her tender way.

Next they read Baochai's:

Cherishing her grace, she closes the door by day;

With her own hands she waters the mossy basin.

Washed of rouge, her shadow stands on the autumn steps;

Summoned by frost and snow, her soul haunts the dew-drenched bank.

Only when utterly plain does one know flowers are most beautiful;

How could jade be unblemished when sorrow runs so deep?

She would repay the White God with her purity,

Silent and graceful as the sun sinks to dusk again.

"Truly the work of Hengwu Jun!" said Li Wan with a laugh. Then she read Baoyu's:

Autumn's pale hues reflect upon the double door;

Seven nodes of frost pile up, filling the basin with snow.

Like Lady Yang emerging from her bath, with ice for her shadow;

Like Xishi holding her heart, with jade for her soul.

The morning wind cannot scatter a thousand dots of sorrow;

Last night's rain adds yet another tear-stain.

Leaning alone on the painted railing as if with some thought,

The grieving flute and the mortar at the loom send off the dusk.

After reading it, Baoyu said Tanchun's was the best. Li Wan was just about to say that Baochai's poem had real distinction when she urged Daiyu to produce hers.

"Have you all finished?" said Daiyu. She seized her brush, dashed off a poem in one go, and tossed it to them.

Li Wan and the others read:

Half-rolled beaded curtain, half-closed door,

Crushed ice for soil, jade for the basin.

At this line, Baoyun burst out: "Wherever did you get that idea!" Then he read the next lines:

Borrowing three parts of the pear-blossom's white,

Begging a wisp of the plum-blossom's soul.

Everyone read them and couldn't help exclaiming in admiration: "Truly, she has a different sensibility from the rest of us!" Then they read the rest:

A fairy from the moon cave sewing her white silk sleeves,

A grieving maiden in her autumn bower wiping her tear-traces.

Her tender bashfulness—to whom can she confide in silence?

Weary, she leans against the west wind; the night has turned to dusk.

When all had read them, they agreed that this was the best. Li Wan said, "For elegance and originality, this poem takes the lead; but for depth and restraint, Miss Heng's composition is superior." Tanchun observed, "That is a fair judgment. His Mistress of the Biao River should take second place." Li Wan continued, "The Young Master of Delightful Red is last. Do you accept that, or not?" Baoyu replied, "My poem is not good in the first place, so the judgment is perfectly fair." He added with a smile, "Only I think the two poems by Miss Heng and Miss Xiao could do with further consideration." Li Wan said, "These are my own opinions, and they have nothing to do with the rest of you. Anyone who argues further will be punished." Hearing this, Baoyu had to drop the matter. Li Wan then declared, "From now on, I have decided that we shall hold our gatherings on the second and sixteenth of every month. The choice of subjects and rhyme schemes will be left to me. In between, if any of you feel inclined, you are free to choose additional days for extra meetings—even if you meet every day of the month, I shall not interfere. But on the second and the sixteenth, you must all come to my place without fail." Baoyu said, "We must, after all, settle on a name for our club." Tanchun replied, "Something too commonplace would not do, and something too fanciful and eccentric would be equally unsuitable. As it happens, we have just begun with the Crabapple Poems—why not call it the Crabapple Club? Though the name is somewhat plain, since it is based on a real occasion, there is no harm in it." After this, they discussed a few more matters, partook of some fruit and wine, and then dispersed, each going their separate ways. Some went home, and some went to see the Lady Dowager or Lady Wang. For the moment, there is nothing more to say about the others.

Now, Xiren had noticed that when Baoyu read the note, he had hurried off in a flurry with Cui Mo, and she had no idea what it was about. Later, she saw the old women from the back gate bringing in two pots of crabapple flowers. Xiren asked where they had come from, and the women explained the whole matter as Baoyu had told them. Xiren then told them to set the flowers in a good place and invited them to sit in the servants' quarters. She went to her own room, weighed out six hundred cash, wrapped it up, and also took three hundred cash. She brought both amounts out and gave them to the two women, saying, "This silver is a tip for the boys who carried the flowers here. This money is for you to buy wine with." The women stood up, beaming with delight, and protested profusely that they could not accept such a gift, but when Xiren insisted, they finally took it. Xiren then asked, "Are there any boys on duty at the back gate?" The women quickly replied, "There are always four, assigned to serve inside. If you have any errands, we will send them." Xiren smiled and said, "What errands? Today the Second Master Bao wants to send someone to the Marquis's residence to deliver things to Miss Shi, the Great Lady. Since you happen to be here, you might as well go out and tell the boys at the back gate to hire a carriage. When you come back, you can collect the money here—there is no need to let them go wandering around to the front and get mixed up with the others." The women promised and went off.

Back in her own room, Xiren was putting things into a dish to send to Shi Xiangyun when she noticed that the dish rack was empty. Turning around, she saw that Qingwen, Qiuyen, and Sheyue were all sitting together doing needlework. Xiren asked, "Whatever happened to that white agate dish with the spiral pattern?" At the question, everyone looked at one another, but no one could recall. After a while, Qingwen laughed and said, "It was sent to Third Young Lady with the lychees. It hasn't been brought back yet." Xiren said, "There are plenty of ordinary dishes we could use for sending things. Why drag out this one?" Qingwen said, "That's just what I told him. He said this dish looks best with fresh lychees. I took it over, and when Third Young Lady saw it, she said it looked lovely too, and asked me to leave it with the lychees. So I didn't bring it back. And look—that pair of linked vases on the top shelf of the rack haven't been returned either." Qiuyen laughed and speaking of vases, I'm reminded of a funny story. Our Bao-yu's filial piety carries him to the twentieth degree. The other day, he saw the osmanthus flowers in the garden and cut two branches. He was going to arrange them in a vase for himself, but then it occurred to him that these were fresh flowers just bloomed from his own garden, and he shouldn't enjoy them first himself. So he went to the trouble of taking down that pair of vases, filling them with water and arranging the flowers himself, having someone carry them, and personally delivering one vase to the Old Lady and another to Lady Wang. Who'd have thought that his act of filial piety would bring blessings on his servants too? As it happened, I was the one who carried them that day. The Old Lady was beside herself with delight when she saw them. She went around telling everyone, 'After all, it's Bao-yu who's filial to me—he even thinks of a single flower. The others only grumble about my spoiling him.' You know, the Old Lady doesn't usually say much to me—I'm not quite up to her standards. That day she actually had someone give me a few hundred cash, saying I was a pitiable thing, born so delicate. That was an unexpected blessing. The few hundred cash are a small thing, but it's hard to get that kind of face. Then when I got to Lady Wang's place, she was with Second Madam, Concubine Zhao, and Concubine Zhou, all going through boxes looking for some colorful clothes from Lady Wang's younger days, trying to decide who to give them to. When she saw the flowers, she stopped looking at the clothes and just looked at the flowers instead. Then Second Madam chimed in with some flattery, praising Bao-yu for being so filial and so understanding of what's proper, going on about this and that for two cartloads of talk. In front of everyone, Lady Wang felt she had gained face and silenced the rest of them. She was all the more pleased and gave me two of her ready-made dresses on the spot. Clothes are a small matter—one gets them every year anyway—but it's not the same as the honor of it." Qingwen said with a laugh, "Pah! You little fool with no experience! That's only because she gave the good ones to someone else and gave you the leftovers, and you still act as if you're somebody." Qiuyen said, "No matter who they were left over from, they're still a gift from Lady Wang." Qingwen said, "If it were me, I wouldn't take them. If someone else got leftovers and passed them on to me, that would be one thing. But we're all in this same room—who's better than anyone else? If the good ones go to someone else and I get the leftovers, I'd rather not take them. I'd sooner cross Lady Wang than swallow that kind of humiliation." Qiuyen quickly asked, "Who in this room got them? I was home sick for a few days, so I don't know who got them. Dear sister, please tell me." Qingwen said, "Even if I told you, could you return them to Lady Wang?" Qiuyen laughed and said, "Nonsense, I just listened because it pleased me. Even if they were left over from the dog in this room, I'd just accept Lady Wang's kindness and wouldn't meddle in other people's business." Everyone who heard this laughed and said, "What a clever jab—they were indeed given to that little spotted foreign pug." Xiren said with a laugh, "You bunch of loose-tongued girls! Every chance you get, you make fun of me. You don't know how you'll die." Qiuyen laughed and said, "So you were the one who got them, sister—I really didn't know. Let me make amends." Xiren said, "Stop being so cheeky. What matters is that someone bring back that dish." Sheyue said, "The vases should be brought back when there's a chance. The Old Lady's room is all right, but there are too many hands in Lady Wang's room. It might be all right with others, but if Concubine Zhao's lot see something from our room, they'll use their black hearts to damage it. Lady Wang doesn't pay much attention to these things. We'd better bring them back sooner rather than later." When Qingwen heard this, she put down her needlework and said, "That's true. I'll go get them." Qiuyen said, "I'll go. You go get your dish." Qingwen said with a laugh, "I'll go get them this once. You've all had your lucky chance—don't tell me I can't have one too." Sheyue said with a laugh, "Qiuyen only got clothes once, and how could it be your lucky day today to stumble on clothes again?" Qingwen said with a cold laugh, "Even if I don't come across clothes, maybe Lady Wang will see how diligent I am and set aside two taels of silver a month for me from her household allowance—who knows?" Then she laughed again and said, "Don't try your tricks on me. There's nothing I don't know." With that, she ran outside. Qiuyen went with her and went on her own to Tan-chun to fetch the dish.

Having got everything ready, Xiren called in an old wet nurse of the Jia household, Song by name, and told her to wash and change into her going-out clothes, as she would be sending her to Miss Shi with some things. Song said, "Just leave everything to me, miss. If there's anything you want to tell me, I'll get it all done in one trip." Xiren then brought over two small filigree boxes. Opening the first, she showed her the contents—fresh water caltrops and two other kinds of fruit—and the second contained a plate of osmanthus-flavored steamed chestnut-flour cake. "These are all fresh fruit from our garden this year, sent by Master Bao for Miss Shi to try. The other day the young lady said she liked this agate plate, so she can keep it to play with. In this silk parcel are some needlework I did for her the other day—I hope she won't think it too crude. Just ask her for us and give our regards to the Second Master."

Song said, "If the Second Master has anything else to say, you'd better ask him again before I go. Otherwise, don't blame me if I forget."

Xiren then asked Qiwen, "Did you just see him at Third Miss's place?"

Qiwen replied, "They were all there discussing something about a poetry club and writing poems too. I don't suppose he has anything else to say. You'd better just go."

Song took the things and went off to change her clothes. Xiren reminded her, "Go out by the back gate. There's a page and a cart waiting."

After Song left, that matter was settled.

When Baoyu came back, he first went to look at the begonia for a while, then told Xiren in his room about the poetry club. Xiren in turn told him about sending Song to bring the things to Shi Xiangyun. Baoyu clapped his hands. "I'd forgotten her. There's been something on my mind all along, but I couldn't think what it was. It's a good thing you reminded me—I was just about to invite her. What fun would the poetry club be without her?"

Xiren urged, "It's nothing important, just an amusement. She's not as free as you are—she has no say in her own home. If you tell her, she'll want to come but may not be able to. If she doesn't come, she'll be worried sick. Why make her unhappy?"

Baoyu said, "That's no problem. I'll ask Grandmother to send someone to fetch her."

Just then Song came back and reported that she had delivered the message and thanked them. She added, "I asked what the Second Master was doing, and I told her you young ladies had started a poetry club and were writing poetry. Miss Shi said it was too bad you hadn't let her know about the poetry party—she was frantic."

Baoyu rushed straight over to the Lady Dowager's and insisted that someone be sent to fetch her right away. But the old lady said, "It's too late today. We'll send for her first thing tomorrow morning." Baoyu had to give up and went back feeling very disgruntled.

The next morning he went again to urge the Lady Dowager to send for Xiangyun. It was not until afternoon that she arrived, and only then was Baoyu reassured. When they met, he told her the whole story and asked to see her poetry. But Li Wan and the others said, "Don't show her the poems yet—just tell her the rhyme scheme. Since she came late, she must be punished by writing a poem to match the rhyme. If it's good, she can join the club. If not, she'll have to stand us all a feast first."

Xiangyun said, "You forgot to invite me—you're the ones who should be punished. Just give me the rhymes. I may not be up to it, but I'll do my best to avoid disgrace. Let me join the club and I'll sweep the floor and burn incense—I don't mind."

Delighted by her enthusiasm, they all reproached themselves for having forgotten her the day before and quickly told her the rhyme scheme. Xiangyun was so eager that she didn't wait to polish her lines. Even while chatting with the others, she had already composed two poems in her head, which she jotted down on whatever paper was handy. "I've written two stanzas following the rhyme scheme," she said with a smile. "I don't know whether they're any good, but at least I've done what I was told."

As she handed them over, the others said, "We four exhausted our wits writing just one poem each—we couldn't have managed another line. And you've written two! Where did you find so many things to say? You must have repeated our ideas."

Even as they spoke, they read the two poems:

I

Yesterday a goddess descended upon the capital gate,

And planted a jade pot from the Lantian estate.

It is that the frost goddess loves the cold by nature,

Not that the lovesick maid must leave her mate.

From what direction does the autumn cloud present this snow?

The rain has added traces of yesterday's dew to show.

But I rejoice that poets never tire of song,

And will not let this lonely dawn and dusk pass slow.

II

The threshold of sweet herbs leads to the door of vine,

It suits the corner of a wall, it suits a pot fine.

Because the flowers love purity, they find mates hard to seek,

As men in autumn's sorrow easily lose their soul's line.

The jade candle weeps its tears away in the wind's sheen,

The crystal screen breaks the traces of the moon's design.

I would tell my secret longing to the Moon Lady above,

But alas, the empty corridor is dark in the night's decline.

Everyone read a line and marveled at it; having read it, they praised it, saying, "This shows she didn't write her Crab-Apple Poems in vain. We really ought to form a Crab-Apple Club!"

Shi Xiangyun said, "Tomorrow you must punish me by making me host—let me be the first to invite everyone to a gathering. May I?" The others said, "That would be even better." Then they discussed with her the poems written the previous day. In the evening, Baochai invited Xiangyun to stay the night in the All-Spice Court. By lamplight, Xiangyun deliberated how to arrange the hosting and choose the themes. Baochai listened to her for half a day, but nothing she proposed seemed suitable, so she said to her, "Since you've started a club, you must host. Even though it's just for fun, you have to look ahead and behind, make things convenient for yourself, and avoid offending anyone, so that it's enjoyable for all. You can't make decisions in your household—you only get a few strings of cash a month, and you barely have enough for your expenses. Now you're taking on this unnecessary business too, and when your aunt hears of it, she'll only complain about you more. Besides, even if you spent it all, it wouldn't be enough to host. Are you going to ask your family for it? Or are you going to ask here?" This speech gave Xiangyun a jolt, and she hesitated. Baochai said, "I already have an idea. There's a clerk at our pawnshop whose family's fields produce excellent fat crabs—he sent several catties over the other day. Half the people here, from the old lady on down to everyone in the Garden, love eating crabs. The other day Aunt Xue mentioned inviting the old lady to enjoy osmanthus and eat crabs in the Garden, but she hasn't done it yet because something came up. For now, just put the poetry club aside and simply invite everyone as usual. After they've dispersed, we'll have plenty of time to write as many poems as we want. I'll speak to my brother and have him send over several baskets of the fattiest, largest crabs, then we'll get a few jars of good wine from the shop, and prepare four or five tables of fruit and dishes. Won't that be both convenient and lively for everyone?" Xiangyun, upon hearing this, was filled with gratitude and admiration, praising her thoroughness to no end. Baochai added with a smile, "I'm speaking from the bottom of my heart for your sake. Don't you take it amiss and think I'm looking down on you, or our friendship will be wasted. If you don't take it amiss, I'll have them make the arrangements." Xiangyun quickly said with a laugh, "Dear sister, if you talk like that, you're the one taking it amiss. No matter how muddle-headed I am, if I couldn't even tell good from bad, would I be a person at all? If I didn't treat you like my own sister, I wouldn't have told you all those personal matters and troubles last time." When Baochai heard this, she called a servant woman over and said, "Go out and tell the young master to send over several baskets of those big crabs from the other day. Tomorrow after lunch, we'll invite the old lady and Aunt Xue to enjoy the osmanthus. Tell the young master not to forget, no matter what—I've already invited the guests today." The servant woman went out to deliver the message and returned without incident.

Here Baochai further said to Xiangyun, "The poem topics shouldn't be too novel or clever either. Look at the ancient poets—those perversely strange titles and those extremely difficult rhyme schemes. If the topic is too novel and the rhyme too difficult, you won't end up with good poems; it's all just petty style. A poem certainly should avoid hackneyed language, but you shouldn't go to the extreme of seeking out novelty either. As long as the first thing—the conception—is fresh and original, the diction will naturally not be vulgar. In the end, this sort of thing doesn't really count for much; weaving, spinning, sewing, and needlework are what we women ought to devote ourselves to. When you have leisure time, it's the proper thing to read a few chapters of books that will benefit us deeply." Xiangyun merely assented, then said with a smile, "I've been thinking—yesterday we wrote Begonia poems. What if I now write some Chrysanthemum poems?" Baochai said, "The chrysanthemum fits the season, but there are simply too many precedents." Xiangyun said, "I was thinking the same thing—I'm afraid it would fall into a worn-out pattern."

Baochai thought for a moment and said, "I have an idea. Let's make the chanthushemum the guest and people the host, and come up with several titles, each consisting of two characters: one empty word and one concrete word. The concrete word will be 'chrysanthemum,' and the empty word will be a general one. This way we're both writing about chrysanthemums and composing on a subject. No one's done this before, so it can't fall into a stale pattern. It touches on both describing scenery and celebrating the object—it's fresh and yet dignified." Xiangyun said with a smile, "That's very good. But I wonder what empty word would work best. Think of one first and let me hear it." Baochai thought for a moment and said with a smile, "'Chrysanthemum Dream' would do nicely." Xiangyun said with a smile, "Indeed good. I also have one—would 'Chrysanthemum Shadow' work?" Baochai said, "That's acceptable too. But someone may have written on it before. If there are many topics, this one could be squeezed in among them. I have another one." Xiangyun said, "Quick, tell me." Baochai said, "How about 'Questioning the Chrysanthemum'?" Xiangyun slapped the table and called it wonderful, then continued, "I have one too—'Visiting the Chrysanthemum,' how about that?" Baochai also praised it as interesting, and said, "On impulse, let's draft ten in total, write them up, and then come back to them." So saying, they ground the ink and dipped their brushes. Xiangyun did the writing, and Baochai did the calling out. In a short while they had assembled ten. Xiangyun looked them over and said with a smile, "Ten still doesn't make a proper set. Let's make it twelve to make it complete, just like people's calligraphy and painting albums." When Baochai heard this, she thought of two more, making twelve in all. She then said, "Since that's the case, let's go further and arrange them in a proper sequence." Xiangyun said, "That would be even better—it will become a veritable chrysanthemum register." Baochai said, "The first is 'Remembering the Chrysanthemum.' When you remember it but cannot find it, you go to visit it—the second is 'Visiting the Chrysanthemum.' Having visited and found it, you plant it—the third is 'Planting the Chrysanthemum.' Once planted and in full bloom, you face it and admire it—the fourth is 'Facing the Chrysanthemum.' Facing it with lingering inspiration, you pick it to put in a vase as an object of enjoyment—the fifth is 'Offering the Chrysanthemum.' Having offered it but not yet sung of it, you feel the chrysanthemum lacks color—the sixth is 'Singing the Chrysanthemum.' Having entered into verse, you cannot but offer it to brush and ink—the seventh is 'Painting the Chrysanthemum.' Having done so much for the chrysanthemum, yet still not knowing what is so wonderful about it, you cannot help asking—the eighth is 'Questioning the Chrysanthemum.' The chrysanthemum, as if it could speak, fills you with wild delight—the ninth is 'Wearing the Chrysanthemum.' Though human efforts are exhausted, there remain things to sing of about the chrysanthemum—'Chrysanthemum Shadow' and 'Chrysanthemum Dream' are appended as the tenth and eleventh. The final piece uses 'The Withered Chrysanthemum' to sum up the splendor of all the preceding themes. And so the wonderful scenes and events of late autumn are all covered."

Xiangyun wrote down the titles as suggested, looked them over once more, and asked, "What rhyme should we limit ourselves to?" Baochai said, "In my life I've most disliked limiting rhymes. If there are clearly good poems, why bind yourself with rhymes? Let's not imitate that petty school—just set the topics without restricting the rhymes. Originally, we're all doing this to have fun when we happen to get good lines, not to make things difficult for people." Xiangyun said, "That's very true. This way everyone's poetry will improve another level. But there are only the five of us—these twelve topics—surely we're not each to write twelve poems?" Baochai said, "That would be too demanding. Let's copy out the topics neatly, all to be seven-character regulated verses, and post them on the wall tomorrow. When the others see them, whoever wants to write on one topic will write on it. Those with the ability can write all twelve; those who can't can write not a single one. The most talented and swiftest will be honored. If all twelve are already done, no one will be allowed to rush and write more—there'll be a penalty to settle it." Xiangyun said, "That's fair enough." The two having settled their plans satisfactorily, they then extinguished the lamp and retired. To learn what happens next, please listen to the following chapter.