Deep Autumn: A Lute Laments Past Days; Sitting in Meditation, a Mind Possessed

Lin Daiyu told a maid to bring in the young woman from the Xue household. The maid curtseyed and handed Daiyu a letter. Daiyu told her to go have some tea while she opened the letter and read it.

The letter read:

My dear sister, I was born under an unlucky star. My family has suffered one calamity after another, our kin scattered and alone. My mother is advanced in years and frail in health. Our household is filled with endless quarreling from morning till night. On top of that, we have met with one misfortune after another, like storms that never cease. Lying in bed late at night, tossing and turning, my heart is so full of sorrow it fairly chokes me. You and I understand each other's hearts, so I know you must grieve for me too.

I think back to when we founded the Crab-Flower Poetry Club, in the clear crisp days of autumn. We wrote poems about chrysanthemums and ate crabs together—we sisters were so happy then. I still remember your lines: "So proud and aloof, with whom would you retire? / If all flowers bloom alike, why are you so late?" Every time I read them, I feel the nobility of spirit in them—so like the two of us. My heart is full of feeling, so I have dashed off four poems. They are not idle moaning; I merely use verse in place of weeping, to give voice to my grief.

(I)
Time flows on swift as a dream,
And once more it is desolate autumn.
My family has met with misfortune,
And I bear my parting sorrow all alone.
My aged mother still lives—
How can I dispel this grief?
Nowhere can I find relief,
And my heart aches on and on.

(II)
Heavy clouds, bleak autumn wind,
I walk the courtyard as frost dries the falling leaves.
The road ahead is lost in haze, past joys can no more be found.
Quietly I search my thoughts, and grief pierces to the bone.

(III)
The fish still has its deep pool to rest in,
The crane still has its shore to stand upon.
Birds and beasts all have their dwelling place—
But I, where can I go?
I lift my eyes to heaven and earth, all is vast and dim.
Between the wide sky and earth, who can understand my endless sorrow?

(IV)
The Milky Way glimmers, cold air presses in,
Moonlight slants across the jade water-clock; the night is deep.
My heart full of sorrow, I write these mournful lines,
Reciting them over and over, I send them to you, my dearest friend.

When Daiyu finished reading, she was overcome with sadness. She thought to herself: Sister Bao did not send this to anyone else—she sent it to me. This is the affection of one true friend for another.

She was still lost in thought when she heard a voice outside: "Is Sister Lin at home?"
Daiyu quickly folded and put away Baochai's letter and called back: "Who is it?"
Even as she spoke, Tanchun, Shi Xiangyun, Li Wen, and Li Qi had already come in. They greeted one another, and Xueyan served tea. They sat chatting over their cups.

The talk turned to the chrysanthemum poems they had written two years before. Daiyu said, "Since Sister Bao moved out, she has only come back twice. Now she does not come even when there is occasion. It is strange—I wonder if she will ever come here again."

Tanchun smiled. "How could she not come? She will come sooner or later. These days her sister-in-law has a sharp temper, Aunt Xue is getting on in years, and Xue Pan has stirred up one trouble after another. Baochai has to manage everything in that household, great and small. How could she still have the leisure she once had?"

Just then a great wind blew up, and many leaves pattered against the window paper. After a moment, a faint fragrance drifted in.
Everyone wondered, "Where does that scent come from? It smells like some kind of flower."

Daiyu said, "It is a little like cassia blossom."
Tanchun laughed. "Sister Lin still cannot change her southern ways. It is already the ninth month—where would cassia blossom come from?"
Daiyu smiled back. "I only said it was like it. I did not say it was certainly cassia."

Xiangyun cut in: "Third Sister, do not laugh at her. Have you never heard 'ten li of lotus, cassia in the third autumn'? In the south, the late cassia is in bloom at this time of year. You simply have not seen it. When you go south someday, you will understand."

Tanchun laughed. "Why would I go south for no reason? I know that much common knowledge already. You need not show off."
Li Wen and Li Qi only covered their smiles.

Daiyu said, "You cannot be so sure. As the old saying goes, people are like wandering immortals on the earth—today here, tomorrow no one knows where. Take me: I am a southerner by birth, and yet here I am."

Xiangyun clapped her hands and laughed. "Now Third Sister has been stumped by Sister Lin! Not only did Sister Lin come from the south—we few all have different origins: some born and bred in the north; some whose ancestral home is in the south but who grew up in the north; some born in the south who later moved north. And yet here we are all gathered together. You see, people's fortunes are all fixed by fate, and people and places have their own destinies."

They all nodded. Tanchun merely smiled. After a little more talk, the visitors rose to leave. Daiyu saw them to the door, and the sisters urged her, "You have only just recovered a little. Do not stand outside in the wind. Go back in quickly."

Daiyu stood at the door and added a few earnest words of farewell, watching them go. Back inside, she sat down. It was growing late; birds were returning to the woods and the sun was setting.

Xiangyun's mention of the south had stirred endless fancies in her. If her parents were still alive, how beautiful the southern scenery would be. Spring flowers, bright autumn moons, lovely mountains and rivers, the Twenty-Four Bridges, the historic sites of the Six Dynasties—all there to see. A great crowd of servants around her, free to do as she pleased, able to speak without weighing every word. Splendid carriages, painted pleasure boats, a life without care, utterly at ease.

But now she lodged in another's house. Even though everyone was kind to her, she had to be careful in every word and action. She did not know what sin she had committed in a former life to deserve such loneliness and misery. As Li Yu, the last ruler of Southern Tang, had said: "Each day I can only wash my face with tears." The more she thought, the sadder she became, until her mind had wandered far back to her distant homeland.

Zijuan came in and saw Daiyu's distracted look. She guessed that the talk of north and south had touched the girl's hidden sorrow. So she said, "Those young ladies sat talking for so long—you must be tired, miss. I have already told the kitchen to make you a bowl of ham and cabbage soup, with a few dried shrimp, some green bamboo shoots, and seaweed. Would that suit you?"

Daiyu said listlessly, "That will do."
Zijuan added, "I have also simmered a pot of glutinous rice porridge."
Daiyu nodded and said, "It would be best if you two made the porridge with your own hands. Do not leave it to the kitchen."

Zijuan replied, "I was worried the kitchen would not be clean enough, so we will make it ourselves. As for the soup, I told Xueyan and Mrs. Liu to be sure everything is properly prepared. Mrs. Liu said the ingredients are all handled properly and given to Wu'er to simmer slowly over a low fire in her own room."

Daiyu said, "It is not that I distrust other people's cleanliness. It is only that I have been ill so long, and every little thing has been trouble to others. Now I am asking people to make soup and porridge specially for me—they are bound to resent it." Her eyes reddened again as she spoke.

Zijuan comforted her. "Do not think such things, miss. You are the Old Ancestor's granddaughter, and the Old Ancestor loves you most of all. Others would be glad of the chance to please you—how could they resent it?"

Daiyu nodded and then asked, "That Wu'er you mentioned—is she the girl who used to visit Fangguang in Baoyu's rooms?"
Zijuan said, "That is she."
Daiyu asked, "Was it not said that she was going to enter service in the household?"

Zijuan said, "Yes. She had a serious illness before. Just as she recovered and was ready to come in, Qingwen's trouble happened and she was driven out, so the matter was put aside."
Daiyu observed, "I have seen that girl. She seems neat and quick in appearance and manner."

Just then an old serving woman brought the soup. Xueyan went out to receive it, and the woman relayed: "Mrs. Liu asks me to tell you, miss, that Wu'er made this soup with her own hands. She did not dare prepare it in the main kitchen for fear you would think it unclean."

Xueyan acknowledged this and carried the soup inside. Daiyu had heard every word and told Xueyan to convey her thanks for their trouble. Xueyan went out and relayed the message, and the old woman withdrew.

Xueyan set the bowl and chopsticks on a small tea table and asked Daiyu, "We still have the five-spice preserved vegetable we brought from the south. Shall I mix a little with sesame oil and vinegar to go with the porridge?"
Daiyu said, "That will be fine. Keep it simple. Do not make it too elaborate."

When the porridge was served, Daiyu ate only half a bowl and took two mouthfuls of soup before setting down her chopsticks. The two maids cleared away the dishes, wiped the small tea table clean, and replaced it with an ordinary small table. Daiyu rinsed her mouth and washed her hands, then asked, "Zijuan, has the incense been added to the censer?"
Zijuan said, "I will go add it now."

Daiyu said, "You two take the soup and porridge and eat them. They are good and clean. I will add the incense myself."
The two maids assented and went to the outer room to eat.

Daiyu added the incense and sat quietly alone. She was just about to pick up a book when she heard the wind in the garden blowing from west to east, rushing through the branches with a great clatter. The wind-bells hanging under the eaves jingled and clanged without cease.

Before long, Xueyan came back in after eating to attend her. Daiyu asked, "The weather is turning cold. A few days ago I told you to take out the light fur garments to air. Have you done it?"
Xueyan said, "They have all been aired."
Daiyu said, "Bring me one to put on."

Xueyan brought a bundle of fur garments and opened it for Daiyu to choose. Inside the bundle was a small silk-wrapped package. Daiyu picked it up casually and opened it. Inside were the old handkerchiefs Baoyu had sent when he was ill, on which she had written her own verses—the tear stains still clearly visible. Also in the package were a cut-up perfume sachet, a fan case, and the broken tassel from Baoyu's Magic Jade. It seemed that while airing the clothes, they had been found in a chest, and Zijuan, afraid of losing them, had tucked them into the fur bundle.

The moment Daiyu saw these old things, she forgot all about choosing a garment. She held the two old handkerchiefs in both hands and stared blankly at the verses she had written years ago. As she looked, tears streamed down her face.

Zijuan happened to come in from outside and saw Xueyan standing there blankly with the fur garments, the broken sachet and fan case and snapped tassel spread on the tea table, and Daiyu clutching the old handkerchiefs, weeping as she looked at the writing.
As the saying goes: A heart already sad meets old tokens of sorrow, and new tears stain the traces of old ones.

Zijuan knew that the sight of these old objects had stirred up memories and that persuasion would be useless. So she smiled and tried to comfort her: "Why are you looking at these things, miss? They are only leftovers from the days when Master Bao and you were young, quarreling and making up. Now everyone treats everyone else with respect and courtesy—how could there still be such scrapes?"

Zijuan meant only to console her, but her words stirred up even more memories, and Daiyu's tears flowed faster than ever.
Zijuan urged again, "Xueyan is still waiting. Put on a garment first, miss."

Only then did Daiyu lay down the handkerchiefs. Zijuan quickly gathered up the handkerchiefs, sachet, and other things and put them away. Daiyu put on a fur-lined jacket and sat glumly in the outer room. Turning her head, she saw Baochai's letter and poems still lying on the table. She picked them up and read them through twice more, then sighed and said, "Our circumstances are different, but the sorrow in our hearts is the same. I too will write four poems and set them to lute music, so they can be played and sung. Tomorrow I will copy them out and send them to her as my reply."

She called Xueyan to bring brush and ink, dipped the brush, and wrote four poems. Then she looked through her lute scores and borrowed the ancient melodies "Yi Lan" and "Si Xian," adjusting the modes to fit her new verses. When the manuscript was ready, she planned to send it to Baochai.
She also told Xueyan to bring out the short lute she had brought from the south, tuned the strings, and practiced the fingering. Daiyu was naturally quick-witted. She had learned to play in the south as a child, and though she had grown rusty, a little practice made her skillful again. She played for a long time, until the night was deep, then told Zijuan to tidy up and prepare for bed. Of this we shall say no more for now.

---

Now to speak of Baoyu. This morning, after washing and dressing, he was about to go to the study with Beiming when Moryu came running up grinning. "Master Bao, you are in luck today! The master is not in the study. There is no school today!"
Baoyu asked, "Really?"
Moryu said, "If you do not believe me, look—Jia Huan and Jia Lan are coming back now."

Baoyu looked up and saw Jia Huan and Jia Lan walking toward him with their pages, talking and laughing. When they saw Baoyu, they quickly stood respectfully with hands at their sides. Baoyu asked, "Why are you back so early?"
Jia Huan answered, "Father has business today. School is dismissed for a day. We go back tomorrow."

When Baoyu heard this, he first went to pay his respects and report to Grandmother Jia and Jia Zheng, then returned to Yihong Court. Xiren asked why he had come back, and Baoyu explained. After sitting a little while, he was about to rush out again.

Xiren stopped him. "Where are you going in such a hurry? Even if there is no school, you should rest properly."
Baoyu stopped and lowered his head. "You are right. It is a rare day off. I should go out and relax a little. Do have some sympathy for me."
Xiren took pity on him and smiled, letting him go. "Go on, then."

Just then the meal was brought in. Baoyu had no choice but to gulp down a few mouthfuls, rinse his mouth, and dart off to Xiaoxiang Lodge to find Daiyu.

When he reached the gate of Xiaoxiang Lodge, he saw Xueyan airing silk handkerchiefs in the courtyard. Baoyu asked, "Has Miss Lin eaten?"
Xueyan said, "She only had half a bowl of porridge this morning. She had no appetite. She is dozing now. You had better go somewhere else for a while, Master Bao, and come back later."

Baoyu had to turn back. With nowhere else to go, he suddenly remembered that he had not seen Xichun for many days, so he strolled slowly to Liaofeng Pavilion. As he reached the window, all was quiet in the courtyard—not a sound. Baoyu thought Xichun was napping and did not want to intrude. He was just about to turn away when he heard a faint sound from inside.

Baoyu stopped to listen. Then he heard a sharp "pa!" and someone speaking inside: "If you play there, how am I to answer?" Baoyu realized they were playing weiqi, but for the moment he could not tell whose voice it was.

Inside, Xichun said, "What are you afraid of? If you take this stone of mine, I answer thus; if you take another, I answer again. I still have a follow-up move. In the end I can connect."
Another voice said, "Suppose I take it this way?"
Xichun cried out, "Oh! You have a counterattack in reserve—I never guarded against that."

Baoyu found the voice very familiar, but it was not one of the Jia sisters. He guessed there was no outsider in Xichun's rooms, so he gently lifted the curtain and went in. He saw that it was Miaoyu from Green Lattice Nunnery.

Baoyu did not dare disturb them. Miaoyu and Xichun were absorbed in the game and did not notice anyone enter. Baoyu stood to one side and watched them play. He saw Miaoyu lower her head and ask Xichun, "Are you giving up this corner?"
Xichun said, "How could I give it up? Your stones inside are all dead. I am not afraid."

Miaoyu said, "Do not speak too soon. We shall see."
Xichun said, "Then I will capture your stones. See what you do then."

Miaoyu smiled slightly, played a stone on the edge, and with a backhand captured a large group of Xichun's stones. She said with a smile, "This is called 'turning over the boot.'"

Before Xichun could reply, Baoyu burst out laughing beside them, giving both a great fright.
Xichun scolded him: "What are you doing! Coming in without a sound, deliberately scaring people. When did you get here?"

Baoyu said, "I came in long ago. I was watching you two fight over this corner." He bowed to Miaoyu and asked with a smile, "Reverend Miaoyu rarely leaves the nunnery. What brings you here today?"

At this, Miaoyu blushed scarlet and did not answer, only lowering her head to look at the board again.
Baoyu realized he had spoken rashly and discourteously, and quickly smiled apologetically. "Those who leave home are different from us worldly folk. The most important thing is inner purity. When the mind is still, it becomes clear; when it is clear, wisdom is born."

Before Baoyu had finished speaking, Miaoyu raised her eyes slightly, shot him a glance, then lowered her head again. The red on her face deepened. Seeing that she would not answer him, Baoyu sat down awkwardly to one side.

Xichun wanted to go on playing, but after a long silence Miaoyu said, "No more."
She rose, straightened her robes, sat down again, and asked Baoyu with a blank stare, "Where have you come from?"

Baoyu was pleased at heart, glad of the chance to smooth over the earlier awkwardness. But on second thought, perhaps this was a Zen challenge, and he blushed and could not answer. Miaoyu smiled faintly and turned to speak with Xichun.

Xichun said with a laugh, "Second Brother, what is so hard about that? Do people not say, 'From where one comes, one comes'? Is that worth blushing over, as if you had met a stranger?"

When Miaoyu heard this, it touched her own history. Her heart trembled, her face burned, and she felt deeply embarrassed. She rose and said, "I have been out too long. I should return to Green Lattice Nunnery."
Xichun knew Miaoyu's temperament and did not press her to stay. She saw her to the courtyard gate.

Miaoyu said with a smile, "I have not been here for a long time. The garden paths twist and turn so. I can hardly recognize the way back."
Baoyu said, "Shall I guide you back?"
Miaoyu said, "I would not trouble you. Please go ahead, Master Bao."

The two took leave of Xichun and left Liaofeng Pavilion. Winding their way past Xiaoxiang Lodge, they suddenly heard the tinkle of a lute.
Miaoyu asked, "Where is that lute music coming from?"
Baoyu said, "It must be Cousin Lin playing."

Miaoyu said, "So she can play the lute too. She has never mentioned it."
Baoyu briefly told her about Daiyu playing the lute and writing poems, and suggested, "Let us go in and see her."
Miaoyu said, "Since ancient times people have only listened to lute music—who ever heard of 'seeing' it?"
Baoyu laughed. "No wonder they say I am a common worldly fool."

So the two sat on the rockery outside Xiaoxiang Lodge and listened quietly. The music was clear and mournful.
They heard Daiyu playing and singing softly:

The autumn wind sighs, autumn deepens;
A girl alone, a thousand li away, sorrows in secret.
She gazes toward her homeland—where is it?
Leaning on the railing, tears soak her dress.

After one passage, she sang again:

Mountains high, roads far, rivers long;
Bright moonlight fills the window.
Her heart is heavy, she cannot sleep;
The Milky Way is vast, her garments thin, autumn wind and dew are cold.

After a pause, Miaoyu remarked, "That was the first section in the 'qin' rhyme. Now she has changed to the second section in the 'yang' rhyme. Let us keep listening."

The lute sounded again within, and the singing rose:

Your fate is not your own;
My lot is full of care.
Our two hearts are in accord;
We think of the ancients, and seek only to be without fault.

Miaoyu sighed. "Another passage—and such deep sorrow and grief!"
Baoyu said, "I do not understand music, but even I can hear how bleak it is."

Inside, Daiyu adjusted the strings. Miaoyu frowned. "The main string is pitched too high. I fear it will not match the Wushe mode."

Then the singing came again:

Man lives in the world like dust;
Heaven and earth sigh over former causes.
The karma of past lives cannot be let go.
My true heart—can it be as bright as the moon in heaven?

When Miaoyu heard this, her expression changed drastically. She cried out, "How can she play the altered zhi note! The melody is so mournful it could shatter metal and stone—but the grief is excessive."
Baoyu asked, "What happens if it is excessive?"
Miaoyu said, "I fear she cannot last long."

As they were speaking, there came a sharp "twang!"—the main string of the lute had snapped.
Miaoyu rose at once to leave.
Baoyu quickly asked, "What is the matter?"
Miaoyu would only say, "You will understand in time. Do not ask more." With that, she left straightaway.

Baoyu, full of doubt, returned dejectedly to Yihong Court. Of this we shall say no more for now.

Now to return to Miaoyu. When she reached Green Lattice Nunnery, the old daoist woman opened the gate for her and shut it again. Miaoyu sat quietly for a while, then recited from the Daily Chants of the Zen Gate. After dinner, she burned incense and bowed before the Bodhisattva, then sent the daoist women to rest. She spread her meditation bed, lowered the curtain, sat cross-legged, and began to meditate, banishing all distracting thoughts and devoting herself single-mindedly to cultivation.

She sat until the third watch. Suddenly the roof tiles clattered. Miaoyu feared a thief and got down from the meditation bed to go to the front corridor. She saw moonlight like water and cloud shadows drifting across the night sky. The night was not very cold. She stood alone leaning on the railing. Suddenly she heard two wildcats on the roof crying back and forth.

Miaoyu had heard Baoyu's words that day, and now her heart trembled, her pulse raced, her ears burned. She quickly collected herself and returned to the meditation room, sat down again, and tried to meditate. But her mind had already scattered. Ten thousand thoughts surged chaotically, as if the meditation bed itself were shaking. Her spirit was dazed, and she felt as though she were no longer in the nunnery.

Countless princes and young lords came to seek her in marriage; matchmakers dragged and pulled at her, forcing her into a bridal sedan. She struggled desperately and would not consent. Then she dreamed that bandits broke in, threatening her with knives and clubs, and she could only cry out for help.

The nuns and daoist women in the nunnery were awakened by the commotion and came with torches to see. They found Miaoyu sprawled with limbs spread, saliva at the corner of her mouth. In a panic they woke her. Her eyes were wide open, her cheeks scarlet, and she shouted, "Bodhisattva protect me! What do you bandits want?"

Everyone was in confusion, calling out again and again, "We are here! Wake up!"
Miaoyu cried, "I want to go home! Find someone good to send me back!"
The daoist woman urged, "This is your home."
Another nun quickly went to burn incense and draw a lot before the Guanyin image. The interpretation said she had offended a yin spirit in the southwest of the garden. Someone agreed: "No one lives in the southwest of the garden anyway. It is heavy with yin energy." The others busied themselves bringing water and tending to her.

One nun had come with Miaoyu from the south and cared for her with special devotion. She sat by the meditation bed keeping her company. Miaoyu turned her head and asked, "Who are you?"
The nun answered, "It is I."
Miaoyu looked closely, then threw her arms around the nun and wept loudly. "You are like a mother to me. If you do not save me, I cannot live!"

The nun soothed her and rubbed her limbs to ease her. The daoist woman brought tea. They were kept busy until nearly dawn, when Miaoyu finally fell into a deep sleep.

The nun quickly sent for a doctor to take her pulse. Some doctors said it was excessive worry injuring the spleen and stomach; some said evil heat had entered the blood; some said she had been possessed by an unclean spirit; still others said it was an external attack of wind-cold. Their opinions all differed.

Later they called in a doctor who asked the daoist woman, "Does she usually practice meditation?"
The daoist woman said, "She always does."
The doctor asked, "Did this illness come on suddenly last night?"
The daoist woman said, "Exactly."

The doctor concluded, "This is a case of the mind losing its guard during meditation—she has been possessed by a demon of her own making."
The others quickly asked whether there was danger. The doctor said, "Fortunately she has not been meditating long, and the demon has not entered deep. There is hope."
He wrote a prescription to clear the heart and reduce fire. After one dose, she became a little calmer.

Outside, idle young profligates heard of the matter and spread rumors everywhere: "How could one so young endure such austerity? She is beautiful and clever. Who knows into whose hands she will fall, and who will take advantage of her?"

After a few days, Miaoyu's body improved somewhat, but her spirit was still dazed, and her mind had not fully recovered.

One day Xichun was sitting when her maid Caiping hurried in and reported, "Have you heard about Reverend Miaoyu, miss?"
Xichun asked, "What has happened to her?"

Caiping said, "Yesterday I heard Miss Xing and the senior mistress talking. They said that after she played weiqi with you that day and went back, in the night she suddenly seemed possessed, shouting that bandits had come to seize her. Even now her spirit has not recovered. It is very strange."

Xichun said nothing, but thought to herself: Miaoyu's nature is lofty and pure, but in the end she has not cut off worldly ties. It is a pity I was born into such a worldly great house and cannot leave home. If I had entered religion, how could I be troubled by demons? Not a single stray thought would arise in my mind, and I would put down all worldly affairs.

At this thought, her heart suddenly became clear. She casually recited a Zen verse:

Heaven and earth's creation is ever changing—
Where is there a place to settle?
Since one comes from nothingness,
One should return to nothingness.

After reciting it, she told her maid to light incense and sat quietly for a while. Then she opened a weiqi manual and looked through the methods of Kong Rong, Wang Jixin, and others. Among them, "Lotus Leaves Wrap the Crab" and "The Oriole Strikes the Hare" were not especially ingenious, and "Thirty-Six Ways to Kill a Corner" was too obscure to remember. Only when she came to "Eight Dragons Run the Horse" did she find it very interesting.

She was bending over it in thought when she heard someone come into the courtyard and call repeatedly for Caiping. Who the visitor was will be told in the next chapter.