Chapter 2 · The spirit of Mrs. Chia Shih-yin departs from the town of Yang Chou. Leng Tzu-hsing dilates upon the Jung Kuo Mansion.
came out in a flurry and forcing a smile, he asked them to explain
(their errand); but all these people did was to continue bawling out:
"Be quick, and ask Mr. Chen to come out."
"My surname is Feng," said Feng Su, as he promptly forced himself to
smile; "It is'nt Chen at all: I had once a son-in-law whose surname was
Chen, but he has left home, it is now already a year or two back. Is it
perchance about him that you are inquiring?"
To which the public servants remarked: "We know nothing about Chen or
Chia (true or false); but as he is your son-in-law, we'll take you at
once along with us to make verbal answer to our master and have done
with it."
And forthwith the whole bevy of public servants hustled Feng Su on, as
they went on their way back; while every one in the Feng family was
seized with consternation, and could not imagine what it was all about.
It was no earlier than the second watch, when Feng Su returned home; and
they, one and all, pressed him with questions as to what had happened.
"The fact is," he explained, "the newly-appointed Magistrate, whose
surname is Chia, whose name is Huo and who is a native of Hu-chow, has
been on intimate terms, in years gone by, with our son-in-law; that at
the sight of the girl Chiao Hsing, standing at the door, in the act of
buying thread, he concluded that he must have shifted his quarters over
here, and hence it was that his messengers came to fetch him. I gave him
a clear account of the various circumstances (of his misfortunes), and
the Magistrate was for a time much distressed and expressed his regret.
He then went on to make inquiries about my grand-daughter, and I
explained that she had been lost, while looking at the illuminations.
'No matter,' put in the Magistrate, 'I will by and by order my men to
make search, and I feel certain that they will find her and bring her
back.' Then ensued a short conversation, after which I was about to go,
when he presented me with the sum of two taels."
The mistress of the Chen family (Mrs. Chen Shih-yin) could not but feel
very much affected by what she heard, and the whole evening she uttered
not a word.
The next day, at an early hour, Yü-ts'un sent some of his men to bring
over to Chen's wife presents, consisting of two packets of silver, and
four pieces of brocaded silk, as a token of gratitude, and to Feng Su
also a confidential letter, requesting him to ask of Mrs. Chen her maid
Chiao Hsing to become his second wife.
Feng Su was so intensely delighted that his eyebrows expanded, his eyes
smiled, and he felt eager to toady to the Magistrate (by presenting the
girl to him). He hastened to employ all his persuasive powers with his
daughter (to further his purpose), and on the same evening he forthwith
escorted Chiao Hsing in a small chair to the Yamên.
The joy experienced by Yü-ts'un need not be dilated upon. He also
presented Feng Su with a packet containing one hundred ounces of gold;
and sent numerous valuable presents to Mrs. Chen, enjoining her "to live
cheerfully in the anticipation of finding out the whereabouts of her
daughter."
It must be explained, however, that the maid Chi'ao Hsing was the very
person, who, a few years ago, had looked round at Yü-ts'un and who, by
one simple, unpremeditated glance, evolved, in fact, this extraordinary
destiny which was indeed an event beyond conception.
Who would ever have foreseen that fate and fortune would both have so
favoured her that she should, contrary to all anticipation, give birth
to a son, after living with Yü-ts'un barely a year, that in addition to
this, after the lapse of another half year, Yü-ts'un's wife should have
contracted a sudden illness and departed this life, and that Yü-ts'un
should have at once raised her to the rank of first wife. Her destiny is
adequately expressed by the lines:
Through but one single, casual look
Soon an exalted place she took.
The fact is that after Yü-ts'un had been presented with the money by
Shih-yin, he promptly started on the 16th day for the capital, and at
the triennial great tripos, his wishes were gratified to the full.
Having successfully carried off his degree of graduate of the third
rank, his name was put by selection on the list for provincial
appointments. By this time, he had been raised to the rank of Magistrate
in this district; but, in spite of the excellence and sufficiency of his
accomplishments and abilities, he could not escape being ambitious and
overbearing. He failed besides, confident as he was in his own merits,
in respect toward his superiors, with the result that these officials
looked upon him scornfully with the corner of the eye.
A year had hardly elapsed, when he was readily denounced in a memorial
to the Throne by the High Provincial authorities, who represented that
he was of a haughty disposition, that he had taken upon himself to
introduce innovations in the rites and ceremonies, that overtly, while
he endeavoured to enjoy the reputation of probity and uprightness, he,
secretly, combined the nature of the tiger and wolf; with the
consequence that he had been the cause of much trouble in the district,
and that he had made life intolerable for the people, &c. &c.
The Dragon countenance of the Emperor was considerably incensed. His
Majesty lost no time in issuing commands, in reply to the Memorial, that
he should be deprived of his official status.
On the arrival of the despatch from the Board, great was the joy felt by
every officer, without exception, of the prefecture in which he had held
office. Yü-ts'un, though at heart intensely mortified and incensed,
betrayed not the least outward symptom of annoyance, but still
preserved, as of old, a smiling and cheerful countenance.
He handed over charge of all official business and removed the savings
which he had accumulated during the several years he had been in office,
his family and all his chattels to his original home; where, after
having put everything in proper order, he himself travelled (carried the
winds and sleeved the moon) far and wide, visiting every relic of note
in the whole Empire.
As luck would have it, on a certain day while making a second journey
through the Wei Yang district, he heard the news that the Salt
Commissioner appointed this year was Lin Ju-hai. This Lin Ju-hai's
family name was Lin, his name Hai and his style Ju-hai. He had obtained
the third place in the previous triennial examination, and had, by this
time, already risen to the rank of Director of the Court of Censors. He
was a native of Kú Su. He had been recently named by Imperial
appointment a Censor attached to the Salt Inspectorate, and had arrived
at his post only a short while back.
In fact, the ancestors of Lin Ju-hai had, from years back, successively
inherited the title of Marquis, which rank, by its present descent to
Ju-hai, had already been enjoyed by five generations. When first
conferred, the hereditary right to the title had been limited to three
generations; but of late years, by an act of magnanimous favour and
generous beneficence, extraordinary bounty had been superadded; and on
the arrival of the succession to the father of Ju-hai, the right had
been extended to another degree. It had now descended to Ju-hai, who
had, besides this title of nobility, begun his career as a successful
graduate. But though his family had been through uninterrupted ages the
recipient of imperial bounties, his kindred had all been anyhow men of
culture.
The only misfortune had been that the several branches of the Lin family
had not been prolific, so that the numbers of its members continued
limited; and though there existed several households, they were all
however to Ju-hai no closer relatives than first cousins. Neither were
there any connections of the same lineage, or of the same parentage.
Ju-hai was at this date past forty; and had only had a son, who had died
the previous year, in the third year of his age. Though he had several
handmaids, he had not had the good fortune of having another son; but
this was too a matter that could not be remedied.
By his wife, née Chia, he had a daughter, to whom the infant name of Tai
Yü was given. She was, at this time, in her fifth year. Upon her the
parents doated as much as if she were a brilliant pearl in the palm of
their hand. Seeing that she was endowed with natural gifts of
intelligence and good looks, they also felt solicitous to bestow upon
her a certain knowledge of books, with no other purpose than that of
satisfying, by this illusory way, their wishes of having a son to
nurture and of dispelling the anguish felt by them, on account of the
desolation and void in their family circle (round their knees).
But to proceed. Yü-ts'un, while sojourning at an inn, was unexpectedly
laid up with a violent chill. Finding on his recovery, that his funds
were not sufficient to pay his expenses, he was thinking of looking out
for some house where he could find a resting place when he suddenly came
across two friends acquainted with the new Salt Commissioner. Knowing
that this official was desirous to find a tutor to instruct his
daughter, they lost no time in recommending Yü-ts'un, who moved into the
Yamên.
His female pupil was youthful in years and delicate in physique, so that
her lessons were irregular. Besides herself, there were only two waiting
girls, who remained in attendance during the hours of study, so that
Yü-ts'un was spared considerable trouble and had a suitable opportunity
to attend to the improvement of his health.
In a twinkle, another year and more slipped by, and when least expected,
the mother of his ward, née Chia, was carried away after a short
illness. His pupil (during her mother's sickness) was dutiful in her
attendance, and prepared the medicines for her use. (And after her
death,) she went into the deepest mourning prescribed by the rites, and
gave way to such excess of grief that, naturally delicate as she was,
her old complaint, on this account, broke out anew.
Being unable for a considerable time to prosecute her studies, Yü-ts'un
lived at leisure and had no duties to attend to. Whenever therefore the
wind was genial and the sun mild, he was wont to stroll at random, after
he had done with his meals.
On this particular day, he, by some accident, extended his walk beyond
the suburbs, and desirous to contemplate the nature of the rustic
scenery, he, with listless step, came up to a spot encircled by hills
and streaming pools, by luxuriant clumps of trees and thick groves of
bamboos. Nestling in the dense foliage stood a temple. The doors and
courts were in ruins. The walls, inner and outer, in disrepair. An
inscription on a tablet testified that this was the temple of Spiritual
Perception. On the sides of the door was also a pair of old and
dilapidated scrolls with the following enigmatical verses.
Behind ample there is, yet to retract the hand, the mind heeds not,
until.
Before the mortal vision lies no path, when comes to turn the will.
"These two sentences," Yü-ts'un pondered after perusal, "although simple
in language, are profound in signification. I have previous to this
visited many a spacious temple, located on hills of note, but never have
I beheld an inscription referring to anything of the kind. The meaning
contained in these words must, I feel certain, owe their origin to the
experiences of some person or other; but there's no saying. But why
should I not go in and inquire for myself?"
Upon walking in, he at a glance caught sight of no one else, but of a
very aged bonze, of unkempt appearance, cooking his rice. When Yü-ts'un
perceived that he paid no notice, he went up to him and asked him one or
two questions, but as the old priest was dull of hearing and a dotard,
and as he had lost his teeth, and his tongue was blunt, he made most
irrelevant replies.
Yü-ts'un lost all patience with him, and withdrew again from the
compound with the intention of going as far as the village public house
to have a drink or two, so as to enhance the enjoyment of the rustic
scenery. With easy stride, he accordingly walked up to the place.
Scarcely had he passed the threshold of the public house, when he
perceived some one or other among the visitors who had been sitting
sipping their wine on the divan, jump up and come up to greet him, with
a face beaming with laughter.
"What a strange meeting! What a strange meeting!" he exclaimed aloud.
Yü-ts'un speedily looked at him, (and remembered) that this person had,
in past days, carried on business in a curio establishment in the
capital, and that his surname was Leng and his style Tzu-hsing.
A mutual friendship had existed between them during their sojourn, in
days of yore, in the capital; and as Yü-ts'un had entertained the
highest opinion of Leng Tzu-hsing, as being a man of action and of great
abilities, while this Leng Tzu-hsing, on the other hand, borrowed of the
reputation of refinement enjoyed by Yü-ts'un, the two had consequently
all along lived in perfect harmony and companionship.
"When did you get here?" Yü-ts'un eagerly inquired also smilingly. "I
wasn't in the least aware of your arrival. This unexpected meeting is
positively a strange piece of good fortune."
"I went home," Tzu-hsing replied, "about the close of last year, but now
as I am again bound to the capital, I passed through here on my way to
look up a friend of mine and talk some matters over. He had the kindness
to press me to stay with him for a couple of days longer, and as I after
all have no urgent business to attend to, I am tarrying a few days, but
purpose starting about the middle of the moon. My friend is busy to-day,
so I roamed listlessly as far as here, never dreaming of such a
fortunate meeting."
While speaking, he made Yü-ts'un sit down at the same table, and ordered
a fresh supply of wine and eatables; and as the two friends chatted of
one thing and another, they slowly sipped their wine.
The conversation ran on what had occurred after the separation, and
Yü-ts'un inquired, "Is there any news of any kind in the capital?"
"There's nothing new whatever," answered Tzu-hsing. "There is one thing
however: in the family of one of your worthy kinsmen, of the same name
as yourself, a trifling, but yet remarkable, occurrence has taken
place."
"None of my kindred reside in the capital," rejoined Yü-ts'un with a
smile. "To what can you be alluding?"
"How can it be that you people who have the same surname do not belong
to one clan?" remarked Tzu-hsing, sarcastically.
"In whose family?" inquired Yü-ts'un.
"The Chia family," replied Tzu-hsing smiling, "whose quarters are in the
Jung Kuo Mansion, does not after all reflect discredit upon the lintel
of your door, my venerable friend."
"What!" exclaimed Yü-ts'un, "did this affair take place in that family?
Were we to begin reckoning, we would find the members of my clan to be
anything but limited in number. Since the time of our ancestor Chia Fu,
who lived while the Eastern Han dynasty occupied the Throne, the
branches of our family have been numerous and flourishing; they are now
to be found in every single province, and who could, with any accuracy,
ascertain their whereabouts? As regards the Jung-kuo branch in
particular, their names are in fact inscribed on the same register as
our own, but rich and exalted as they are, we have never presumed to
claim them as our relatives, so that we have become more and more
estranged."
"Don't make any such assertions," Tzu-hsing remarked with a sigh, "the
present two mansions of Jung and Ning have both alike also suffered
reverses, and they cannot come up to their state of days of yore."
"Up to this day, these two households of Ning and of Jung," Yü-ts'un
suggested, "still maintain a very large retinue of people, and how can
it be that they have met with reverses?"
"To explain this would be indeed a long story," said Leng Tzu-hsing.
"Last year," continued Yü-ts'un, "I arrived at Chin Ling, as I
entertained a wish to visit the remains of interest of the six
dynasties, and as I on that day entered the walled town of Shih T'ou, I
passed by the entrance of that old residence. On the east side of the
street, stood the Ning Kuo mansion; on the west the Jung Kuo mansion;
and these two, adjoining each other as they do, cover in fact well-nigh
half of the whole length of the street. Outside the front gate
everything was, it is true, lonely and deserted; but at a glance into
the interior over the enclosing wall, I perceived that the halls,
pavilions, two-storied structures and porches presented still a majestic
and lofty appearance. Even the flower garden, which extends over the
whole area of the back grounds, with its trees and rockeries, also
possessed to that day an air of luxuriance and freshness, which betrayed
no signs of a ruined or decrepid establishment."
"You have had the good fortune of starting in life as a graduate,"
explained Tzu-tsing as he smiled, "and yet are not aware of the saying
uttered by some one of old: that a centipede even when dead does not lie
stiff. (These families) may, according to your version, not be up to the
prosperity of former years, but, compared with the family of an ordinary
official, their condition anyhow presents a difference. Of late the
number of the inmates has, day by day, been on the increase; their
affairs have become daily more numerous; of masters and servants, high
and low, who live in ease and respectability very many there are; but of
those who exercise any forethought, or make any provision, there is not
even one. In their daily wants, their extravagances, and their
expenditure, they are also unable to adapt themselves to circumstances
and practise economy; (so that though) the present external framework
may not have suffered any considerable collapse, their purses have
anyhow begun to feel an exhausting process! But this is a mere trifle.
There is another more serious matter. Would any one ever believe that in
such families of official status, in a clan of education and culture,
the sons and grandsons of the present age would after all be each
(succeeding) generation below the standard of the former?"
Yü-ts'un, having listened to these remarks, observed: "How ever can it
be possible that families of such education and refinement can observe
any system of training and nurture which is not excellent? Concerning
the other branches, I am not in a position to say anything; but
restricting myself to the two mansions of Jung and Ning, they are those
in which, above all others, the education of their children is
methodical."
"I was just now alluding to none other than these two establishments,"
Tzu-hsing observed with a sigh; "but let me tell you all. In days of
yore, the duke of Ning Kuo and the duke of Jung Kuo were two uterine
brothers. The Ning duke was the elder; he had four sons. After the death
of the duke of Ning Kuo, his eldest son, Chia Tai-hua, came into the
title. He also had two sons; but the eldest, whose name was Hu, died at
the age of eight or nine; and the only survivor, the second son, Chia
Ching, inherited the title. His whole mind is at this time set upon
Taoist doctrines; his sole delight is to burn the pill and refine the
dual powers; while every other thought finds no place in his mind.
Happily, he had, at an early age, left a son, Chia Chen, behind in the
lay world, and his father, engrossed as his whole heart was with the
idea of attaining spiritual life, ceded the succession of the official
title to him. His parent is, besides, not willing to return to the
original family seat, but lives outside the walls of the capital,
foolishly hobnobbing with all the Taoist priests. This Mr. Chen had also
a son, Chia Jung, who is, at this period, just in his sixteenth year.
Mr. Ching gives at present no attention to anything at all, so that Mr.
Chen naturally devotes no time to his studies, but being bent upon
nought else but incessant high pleasure, he has subversed the order of
things in the Ning Kuo mansion, and yet no one can summon the courage to
come and hold him in check. But I'll now tell you about the Jung mansion
for your edification. The strange occurrence, to which I alluded just
now, came about in this manner. After the demise of the Jung duke, the
eldest son, Chia Tai-shan, inherited the rank. He took to himself as
wife, the daughter of Marquis Shih, a noble family of Chin Ling, by whom
he had two sons; the elder being Chia She, the younger Chia Cheng. This
Tai Shan is now dead long ago; but his wife is still alive, and the
elder son, Chia She, succeeded to the degree. He is a man of amiable and
genial disposition, but he likewise gives no thought to the direction of
any domestic concern. The second son Chia Cheng displayed, from his
early childhood, a great liking for books, and grew up to be correct and
upright in character. His grandfather doated upon him, and would have
had him start in life through the arena of public examinations, but,
when least expected, Tai-shan, being on the point of death, bequeathed a
petition, which was laid before the Emperor. His Majesty, out of regard
for his former minister, issued immediate commands that the elder son
should inherit the estate, and further inquired how many sons there were
besides him, all of whom he at once expressed a wish to be introduced in
his imperial presence. His Majesty, moreover, displayed exceptional
favour, and conferred upon Mr. Cheng the brevet rank of second class
Assistant Secretary (of a Board), and commanded him to enter the Board
to acquire the necessary experience. He has already now been promoted to
the office of second class Secretary. This Mr. Cheng's wife, nèe Wang,
first gave birth to a son called Chia Chu, who became a Licentiate in
his fourteenth year. At barely twenty, he married, but fell ill and died
soon after the birth of a son. Her (Mrs. Cheng's) second child was a
daughter, who came into the world, by a strange coincidence, on the
first day of the year. She had an unexpected (pleasure) in the birth,
the succeeding year, of another son, who, still more remarkable to say,
had, at the time of his birth, a piece of variegated and crystal-like
brilliant jade in his mouth, on which were yet visible the outlines of
several characters. Now, tell me, was not this a novel and strange
occurrence? eh?"
"Strange indeed!" exclaimed Yü-ts'un with a smile; "but I presume the
coming experiences of this being will not be mean."
Tzu-hsing gave a faint smile. "One and all," he remarked, "entertain the
same idea. Hence it is that his mother doats upon him like upon a
precious jewel. On the day of his first birthday, Mr. Cheng readily
entertained a wish to put the bent of his inclinations to the test, and
placed before the child all kinds of things, without number, for him to
grasp from. Contrary to every expectation, he scorned every other
object, and, stretching forth his hand, he simply took hold of rouge,
powder and a few hair-pins, with which he began to play. Mr. Cheng
experienced at once displeasure, as he maintained that this youth would,
by and bye, grow up into a sybarite, devoted to wine and women, and for
this reason it is, that he soon began to feel not much attachment for
him. But his grandmother is the one who, in spite of everything, prizes
him like the breath of her own life. The very mention of what happened
is even strange! He is now grown up to be seven or eight years old, and,
although exceptionally wilful, in intelligence and precocity, however,
not one in a hundred could come up to him! And as for the utterances of
this child, they are no less remarkable. The bones and flesh of woman,
he argues, are made of water, while those of man of mud. 'Women to my
eyes are pure and pleasing,' he says, 'while at the sight of man, I
readily feel how corrupt, foul and repelling they are!' Now tell me, are
not these words ridiculous? There can be no doubt whatever that he will
by and bye turn out to be a licentious roué."
Yü-ts'un, whose countenance suddenly assumed a stern air, promptly
interrupted the conversation. "It doesn't quite follow," he suggested.
"You people don't, I regret to say, understand the destiny of this
child. The fact is that even the old Hanlin scholar Mr. Cheng was
erroneously looked upon as a loose rake and dissolute debauchee! But
unless a person, through much study of books and knowledge of letters,
so increases (in lore) as to attain the talent of discerning the nature
of things, and the vigour of mind to fathom the Taoist reason as well as
to comprehend the first principle, he is not in a position to form any
judgment."
Tzu-hsing upon perceiving the weighty import of what he propounded,
"Please explain," he asked hastily, "the drift (of your argument)." To
which Yü-ts'un responded: "Of the human beings created by the operation
of heaven and earth, if we exclude those who are gifted with extreme
benevolence and extreme viciousness, the rest, for the most part,
present no striking diversity. If they be extremely benevolent, they
fall in, at the time of their birth, with an era of propitious fortune;
while those extremely vicious correspond, at the time of their
existence, with an era of calamity. When those who coexist with
propitious fortune come into life, the world is in order; when those who
coexist with unpropitious fortune come into life, the world is in
danger. Yao, Shun, Yü, Ch'eng T'ang, Wen Wang, Wu Wang, Chou Kung, Chao
Kung, Confucius, Mencius, T'ung Hu, Han Hsin, Chou Tzu, Ch'eng Tzu, Chu
Tzu and Chang Tzu were ordained to see light in an auspicious era.
Whereas Ch'i Yu, Kung Kung, Chieh Wang, Chou Wang, Shih Huang, Wang
Mang, Tsao Ts'ao, Wen Wen, An Hu-shan, Ch'in Kuei and others were one
and all destined to come into the world during a calamitous age. Those
endowed with extreme benevolence set the world in order; those possessed
of extreme maliciousness turn the world into disorder. Purity,
intelligence, spirituality and subtlety constitute the vital spirit of
right which pervades heaven and earth, and the persons gifted with
benevolence are its natural fruit. Malignity and perversity constitute
the spirit of evil, which permeates heaven and earth, and malicious
persons are affected by its influence. The days of perpetual happiness
and eminent good fortune, and the era of perfect peace and tranquility,
which now prevail, are the offspring of the pure, intelligent, divine
and subtle spirit which ascends above, to the very Emperor, and below
reaches the rustic and uncultured classes. Every one is without
exception under its influence. The superfluity of the subtle spirit
expands far and wide, and finding nowhere to betake itself to, becomes,
in due course, transformed into dew, or gentle breeze; and, by a process
of diffusion, it pervades the whole world.
"The spirit of malignity and perversity, unable to expand under the
brilliant sky and transmuting sun, eventually coagulates, pervades and
stops up the deep gutters and extensive caverns; and when of a sudden
the wind agitates it or it be impelled by the clouds, and any slight
disposition, on its part, supervenes to set itself in motion, or to
break its bounds, and so little as even the minutest fraction does
unexpectedly find an outlet, and happens to come across any spirit of
perception and subtlety which may be at the time passing by, the spirit
of right does not yield to the spirit of evil, and the spirit of evil is
again envious of the spirit of right, so that the two do not harmonize.
Just like wind, water, thunder and lightning, which, when they meet in
the bowels of the earth, must necessarily, as they are both to dissolve
and are likewise unable to yield, clash and explode to the end that they
may at length exhaust themselves. Hence it is that these spirits have
also forcibly to diffuse themselves into the human race to find an
outlet, so that they may then completely disperse, with the result that
men and women are suddenly imbued with these spirits and spring into
existence. At best, (these human beings) cannot be generated into
philanthropists or perfect men; at worst, they cannot also embody
extreme perversity or extreme wickedness. Yet placed among one million
beings, the spirit of intelligence, refinement, perception and subtlety
will be above these one million beings; while, on the other hand, the
perverse, depraved and inhuman embodiment will likewise be below the
million of men. Born in a noble and wealthy family, these men will be a
salacious, lustful lot; born of literary, virtuous or poor parentage,
they will turn out retired scholars or men of mark; though they may by
some accident be born in a destitute and poverty-stricken home, they
cannot possibly, in fact, ever sink so low as to become runners or
menials, or contentedly brook to be of the common herd or to be driven
and curbed like a horse in harness. They will become, for a certainty,
either actors of note or courtesans of notoriety; as instanced in former
years by Hsü Yu, T'ao Ch'ien, Yuan Chi, Chi Kang, Liu Ling, the two
families of Wang and Hsieh, Ku Hu-t'ou, Ch'en Hou-chu, T'ang Ming-huang,
Sung Hui-tsung, Liu T'ing-chih, Wen Fei-ching, Mei Nan-kung, Shih
Man-ch'ing, Lui C'hih-ch'ing and Chin Shao-yu, and exemplified
now-a-days by Ni Yün-lin, T'ang Po-hu, Chu Chih-shan, and also by Li
Kuei-men, Huang P'an-cho, Ching Hsin-mo, Cho Wen-chün; and the women
Hung Fu, Hsieh T'ao, Ch'ü Ying, Ch'ao Yün and others; all of whom were
and are of the same stamp, though placed in different scenes of action."
"From what you say," observed Tzu-hsing, "success makes (a man) a duke
or a marquis; ruin, a thief!"
"Quite so; that's just my idea!" replied Yü-ts'un; "I've not as yet let
you know that after my degradation from office, I spent the last couple
of years in travelling for pleasure all over each province, and that I
also myself came across two extraordinary youths. This is why, when a
short while back you alluded to this Pao-yü, I at once conjectured, with
a good deal of certainty, that he must be a human being of the same
stamp. There's no need for me to speak of any farther than the walled
city of Chin Ling. This Mr. Chen was, by imperial appointment, named
Principal of the Government Public College of the Chin Ling province. Do
you perhaps know him?"
"Who doesn't know him?" remarked Tzu-hsing. "This Chen family is an old
connection of the Chia family. These two families were on terms of great
intimacy, and I myself likewise enjoyed the pleasure of their friendship
for many a day."
"Last year, when at Chin Ling," Yü-ts'un continued with a smile, "some
one recommended me as resident tutor to the school in the Chen mansion;
and when I moved into it I saw for myself the state of things. Who would
ever think that that household was grand and luxurious to such a degree!
But they are an affluent family, and withal full of propriety, so that a
school like this was of course not one easy to obtain. The pupil,
however, was, it is true, a young tyro, but far more troublesome to
teach than a candidate for the examination of graduate of the second
degree. Were I to enter into details, you would indeed have a laugh. 'I
must needs,' he explained, 'have the company of two girls in my studies
to enable me to read at all, and to keep likewise my brain clear.
Otherwise, if left to myself, my head gets all in a muddle.' Time after
time, he further expounded to his young attendants, how extremely
honourable and extremely pure were the two words representing woman,
that they are more valuable and precious than the auspicious animal, the
felicitous bird, rare flowers and uncommon plants. 'You may not' (he was
wont to say), 'on any account heedlessly utter them, you set of foul
mouths and filthy tongues! these two words are of the utmost import!
Whenever you have occasion to allude to them, you must, before you can
do so with impunity, take pure water and scented tea and rinse your
mouths. In the event of any slip of the tongue, I shall at once have
your teeth extracted, and your eyes gouged out.' His obstinacy and
waywardness are, in every respect, out of the common. After he was
allowed to leave school, and to return home, he became, at the sight of
the young ladies, so tractable, gentle, sharp, and polite, transformed,
in fact, like one of them. And though, for this reason, his father has
punished him on more than one occasion, by giving him a sound thrashing,
such as brought him to the verge of death, he cannot however change.
Whenever he was being beaten, and could no more endure the pain, he was
wont to promptly break forth in promiscuous loud shouts, 'Girls! girls!'
The young ladies, who heard him from the inner chambers, subsequently
made fun of him. 'Why,' they said, 'when you are being thrashed, and you
are in pain, your only thought is to bawl out girls! Is it perchance
that you expect us young ladies to go and intercede for you? How is that
you have no sense of shame?' To their taunts he gave a most plausible
explanation. 'Once,' he replied, 'when in the agony of pain, I gave vent
to shouting girls, in the hope, perchance, I did not then know, of its
being able to alleviate the soreness. After I had, with this purpose,
given one cry, I really felt the pain considerably better; and now that
I have obtained this secret spell, I have recourse, at once, when I am
in the height of anguish, to shouts of girls, one shout after another.
Now what do you say to this? Isn't this absurd, eh?"
"The grandmother is so infatuated by her extreme tenderness for this
youth, that, time after time, she has, on her grandson's account, found
fault with the tutor, and called her son to task, with the result that I
resigned my post and took my leave. A youth, with a disposition such as
his, cannot assuredly either perpetuate intact the estate of his father
and grandfather, or follow the injunctions of teacher or advice of
friends. The pity is, however, that there are, in that family, several
excellent female cousins, the like of all of whom it would be difficult
to discover."
"Quite so!" remarked Tzu-hsing; "there are now three young ladies in the
Chia family who are simply perfection itself. The eldest is a daughter
of Mr. Cheng, Yuan Ch'un by name, who, on account of her excellence,
filial piety, talents, and virtue, has been selected as a governess in
the palace. The second is the daughter of Mr. She's handmaid, and is
called Ying Ch'un; the third is T'an Ch'un, the child of Mr. Cheng's
handmaid; while the fourth is the uterine sister of Mr. Chen of the Ning
Mansion. Her name is Hsi Ch'un. As dowager lady Shih is so fondly
attached to her granddaughters, they come, for the most part, over to
their grandmother's place to prosecute their studies together, and each
one of these girls is, I hear, without a fault."
"More admirable," observed Yü-ts'un, "is the régime (adhered to) in the
Chen family, where the names of the female children have all been
selected from the list of male names, and are unlike all those
out-of-the-way names, such as Spring Blossom, Scented Gem, and the like
flowery terms in vogue in other families. But how is it that the Chia
family have likewise fallen into this common practice?"
"Not so!" ventured Tzu-h'sing. "It is simply because the eldest daughter
was born on the first of the first moon, that the name of Yuan Ch'un was
given to her; while with the rest this character Ch'un (spring) was then
followed. The names of the senior generation are, in like manner,
adopted from those of their brothers; and there is at present an
instance in support of this. The wife of your present worthy master, Mr.
Lin, is the uterine sister of Mr. Chia. She and Mr. Chia Cheng, and she
went, while at home, under the name of Chia Min. Should you question the
truth of what I say, you are at liberty, on your return, to make minute
inquiries and you'll be convinced."
Yü-ts'un clapped his hands and said smiling, "It's so, I know! for this
female pupil of mine, whose name is Tai-yü, invariably pronounces the
character _min_ as _mi_, whenever she comes across it in the
course of her reading; while, in writing, when she comes to the
character 'min,' she likewise reduces the strokes by one, sometimes by
two. Often have I speculated in my mind (as to the cause), but the
remarks I've heard you mention, convince me, without doubt, that it is
no other reason (than that of reverence to her mother's name). Strange
enough, this pupil of mine is unique in her speech and deportment, and
in no way like any ordinary young lady. But considering that her mother
was no commonplace woman herself, it is natural that she should have
given birth to such a child. Besides, knowing, as I do now, that she is
the granddaughter of the Jung family, it is no matter of surprise to me
that she is what she is. Poor girl, her mother, after all, died in the
course of the last month."
Tzu-hsing heaved a sigh. "Of three elderly sisters," he explained, "this
one was the youngest, and she too is gone! Of the sisters of the senior
generation not one even survives! But now we'll see what the husbands of
this younger generation will be like by and bye!"
"Yes," replied Yü-ts'un. "But some while back you mentioned that Mr.
Cheng has had a son, born with a piece of jade in his mouth, and that he
has besides a tender-aged grandson left by his eldest son; but is it
likely that this Mr. She has not, himself, as yet, had any male issue?"
"After Mr. Cheng had this son with the jade," Tzu-hsing added, "his
handmaid gave birth to another son, who whether he be good or bad, I
don't at all know. At all events, he has by his side two sons and a
grandson, but what these will grow up to be by and bye, I cannot tell.
As regards Mr. Chia She, he too has had two sons; the second of whom,
Chia Lien, is by this time about twenty. He took to wife a relative of
his, a niece of Mr. Cheng's wife, a Miss Wang, and has now been married
for the last two years. This Mr. Lien has lately obtained by purchase
the rank of sub-prefect. He too takes little pleasure in books, but as
far as worldly affairs go, he is so versatile and glib of tongue, that
he has recently taken up his quarters with his uncle Mr. Cheng, to whom
he gives a helping hand in the management of domestic matters. Who would
have thought it, however, ever since his marriage with his worthy wife,
not a single person, whether high or low, has there been who has not
looked up to her with regard: with the result that Mr. Lien himself has,
in fact, had to take a back seat (_lit_. withdrew 35 li). In looks,
she is also so extremely beautiful, in speech so extremely quick and
fluent, in ingenuity so deep and astute, that even a man could, in no
way, come up to her mark."
After hearing these remarks Yü-ts'un smiled. "You now perceive," he
said, "that my argument is no fallacy, and that the several persons
about whom you and I have just been talking are, we may presume, human
beings, who, one and all, have been generated by the spirit of right,
and the spirit of evil, and come to life by the same royal road; but of
course there's no saying."
"Enough," cried Tzu-hsing, "of right and enough of evil; we've been
doing nothing but settling other people's accounts; come now, have
another glass, and you'll be the better for it!"
"While bent upon talking," Yü-ts'un explained, "I've had more glasses
than is good for me."
"Speaking of irrelevant matters about other people," Tzu-hsing rejoined
complacently, "is quite the thing to help us swallow our wine; so come
now; what harm will happen, if we do have a few glasses more."
Yü-ts'un thereupon looked out of the window.
"The day is also far advanced," he remarked, "and if we don't take care,
the gates will be closing; let us leisurely enter the city, and as we go
along, there will be nothing to prevent us from continuing our chat."
Forthwith the two friends rose from their seats, settled and paid their
wine bill, and were just going, when they unexpectedly heard some one
from behind say with a loud voice:
"Accept my congratulations, Brother Yü-ts'un; I've now come, with the
express purpose of giving you the welcome news!"
Yü-ts'un lost no time in turning his head round to look at the speaker.
But reader, if you wish to learn who the man was, listen to the details
given in the following chapter.