Hearing a Song, Baoyu Perceives the Mystery of Zen; Making Lantern Riddles, Jia Zheng Foresees Tragic Omens

Now Jia Lian, hearing Xifeng say she had something to discuss, stopped and asked what it was. Xifeng said, "The twenty-first is Cousin Xue's birthday—what do you intend to do about it?" Jia Lian said, "How should I know? You've managed countless big birthdays before—why are you at a loss now?" Xifeng said, "Big birthdays are easy—there are fixed rules. But this birthday of hers is neither a major nor a minor one, so I'm consulting you." Jia Lian thought for a moment and said, "You're being foolish today. There's a precedent—Cousin Lin is the example. However we celebrated Cousin Lin's birthday in the past, do the same for Cousin Xue now." Xifeng sneered, "Do you think I don't know that? I had already decided on that. But yesterday I heard the Dowager asking about everyone's ages, and when she heard Cousin Xue is fifteen this year—not a major birthday, but the age of hair-pinning—she said she wanted to celebrate it. If she really means to do it properly, it will naturally be different from Cousin Lin's previous birthdays." Jia Lian said, "In that case, add a little more than for Cousin Lin." Xifeng said, "That's what I thought, so I wanted your opinion. If I added things without telling you, you'd blame me for not being clear." Jia Lian laughed, "Enough—I won't take this hollow credit. If you don't interrogate me, that's enough—why would I blame you?" With that he went off.

Now Shi Xiangyun had stayed for two days and wanted to return home. The Dowager said, "Wait until after your Cousin Baochai's birthday, and watch the plays, then go." Xiangyun had to stay. She sent someone home to fetch two pieces of needlework she had made earlier, as birthday gifts for Baochai.

The Dowager had taken a liking to Baochai for her steady, gentle character, and since this was her first birthday since coming, she took out twenty taels of silver herself and called Xifeng to arrange a feast and performance. Xifeng, playing along, laughed, "An old ancestress giving a birthday for the children—whatever she does, who would dare object? Why go to the trouble of feasts and plays? If you want to be merry, you should spend your own money. You've dug out this mouldy twenty taels to host with—meaning to make me chip in too. If you really couldn't afford it, that's one thing, but you have gold and silver weighing down your chests—you're just squeezing us. Look around—aren't we all your children? Is Baoyu the only one who'll carry you to Mount Wutai in the end? All your private savings are for him—even if we're not worthy to spend it, don't be so hard on us. Is this enough for wine? Enough for a play?" The whole room laughed. The Dowager laughed too, "Listen to that tongue! I thought I was sharp, but I can't match this monkey. Even your mother-in-law wouldn't talk back like that—you're brazen with me." Xifeng laughed, "My mother-in-law dotes on Baoyu just the same—I have no one to complain to, yet you say I'm brazen." This made the Dowager laugh even more, and she was very pleased.

That evening, when everyone came to pay their respects and chatted with the Dowager, she asked Baochai what plays she liked and what foods she preferred. Baochai, knowing the Dowager loved lively plays and sweet, soft foods, named exactly what the Dowager usually enjoyed. The Dowager was even more delighted. The next day, gifts of clothes and trinkets were sent over; Lady Wang, Xifeng, Daiyu, and the others also sent appropriate gifts.

On the twenty-first, a small, intimate stage was set up in the Dowager's courtyard, and a new troupe engaged, performing both Kunqu and Yiyang operas. A few banquet tables were laid in the Dowager's main hall; there were no outside guests—only Aunt Xue, Shi Xiangyun, and Baochai as guests, the rest being family. That morning, Baoyu, not seeing Daiyu, went to her room and found her lying on the kang. He laughed, "Get up and eat—the play's about to start. Which scene would you like? I'll choose it." Daiyu sneered, "Since you say that, why not have a special performance just for me, playing what I like? There's no need to ride on others' coattails to ask me now." Baoyu laughed, "What's so hard about that? We'll do it tomorrow—let them ride on our coattails for a change." He pulled her up and they went out together.

When it came time to choose the plays, the Dowager insisted Baochai choose first. After some polite refusals, Baochai chose Journey to the West. The Dowager was pleased. Then Xifeng was asked; knowing the Dowager liked lively, humorous pieces, she chose Liu the Second Pawns His Clothes. The Dowager was even more delighted. Then Daiyu was asked; she deferred to Aunt Xue and Lady Wang. The Dowager said, "Today I specially brought you all here for fun—we'll do as we please and ignore them. Why would I go to all this trouble for them? They get to watch and eat for free—that's already a bargain, and you want them to choose too!" Everyone laughed. Daiyu then chose a piece. Then Baoyu, Xiangyun, Yingchun, Tanchun, Xichun, Li Wan, and the others each chose, and the performance began.

When the wine was served, the Dowager again asked Baochai to choose. She chose Lu Zhishen Makes a Drunken Scene at Mount Wutai. Baoyu said, "You only choose noisy plays like that." Baochai said, "You've listened to plays for years, but you don't know the merits of this one—fine staging and exquisite lyrics." Baoyu said, "I've always disliked those noisy ones." Baochai laughed, "If you think this one is noisy, you don't know your theatre. Come here—I'll tell you: this is a northern Dian Jiang Chun tune—rhythmic and sonorous; the lyrics are superb, especially the song Ji Sheng Cao, which is wonderfully written—you wouldn't know." Baoyu, intrigued, leaned in and begged, "Dear cousin, recite it for me." Baochai recited:

Wiping the hero's tears, he leaves the hermit's home,
Thanks to compassion, shaved beneath the lotus throne.
No karmic tie—in a flash they part,
Naked he comes and goes, with naught to call his own.
Where shall he find a straw cloak and rain hat, a single roll to roam?
Let him wear worn sandals and a broken bowl, and follow fate alone!

Baoyu was so delighted he slapped his knee and traced patterns in the air, praising it endlessly, and praised Baochai for knowing everything. Lin Daiyu said, "Quiet—watch the play. They haven't even sung The Temple Gate yet, and you're already acting crazy." Even Xiangyun laughed. So they watched the play.

When the performance ended that evening, the Dowager was very taken with the young actress who played the female lead and the one who played the clown. She had them brought in; looking at them closely, she found them even more pitiable and lovable. She asked their ages—the female lead was only eleven, the clown only nine. Everyone sighed. The Dowager gave them meat and fruit, and two strings of cash besides. Xifeng laughed, "This child looks exactly like someone—see if you can guess." Baochai knew but only smiled and said nothing. Baoyu guessed too but dared not speak. Shi Xiangyun blurted out, "She looks just like Cousin Lin." Baoyu quickly shot Xiangyun a warning glance. Everyone, hearing this, looked closely and laughed, agreeing it was true. Soon the party broke up.

That evening, as Xiangyun was changing, she told Cuilu to open her bundle and pack everything. Cuilu said, "What's the hurry—you can pack when it's time to leave." Xiangyun said, "I'm leaving early tomorrow. What's the point of staying here—to watch people's faces?" Baoyu, hearing this, hurried over and pulled her aside, "Dear cousin, you've misunderstood me. Cousin Lin is sensitive. The others knew but didn't say it, afraid of offending her. You spoke without thinking—of course she'd be upset. I was afraid you'd offend her, so I signalled you. Now you're angry at me—you've not only misunderstood me, you've wronged me. If it were anyone else, even if they offended ten people, what would it matter to me?" Xiangyun shook him off, "Don't try your sweet talk on me. I'm not as good as your Cousin Lin—others can tease her and joke about her, but if I say something, it's wrong. I'm not worthy to speak of her. She's the young lady, I'm just a servant—if I offend her, I'm in the wrong!" Baoyu said urgently, "I was trying to help you, and now I'm the one in the wrong. If I had any other intention, may I turn to ash and be trampled by ten thousand!" Xiangyun said, "It's the New Year—don't spout such nonsense. Save those silly oaths and wild talk for those petty, touchy people who like to control you—don't make me spit on you." She went into the Dowager's inner room and lay down in a huff.

Baoyu, feeling dejected, went to find Daiyu. As soon as he reached the threshold, she pushed him out and shut the door. Puzzled, he called softly through the window, "Dear cousin," but she ignored him. Baoyu stood there, head bowed in gloom. Xiren knew the whole story but dared not say anything. Baoyu stood there dazed. Daiyu, thinking he had gone, opened the door—and there he still stood. Embarrassed, she couldn't close it again, so she went back and lay down. Baoyu followed her in, "Everything has a reason—if you tell me, I won't feel wronged. Why are you angry for no reason?" Daiyu sneered, "You ask me—I don't know why either. I'm just here for you all to laugh at—comparing me to an actress." Baoyu said, "I didn't compare you or laugh—why are you angry at me?" Daiyu said, "You don't need to compare or laugh—not doing it is worse than those who did!" Baoyu had no reply and fell silent.

Daiyu continued, "I could forgive that. But why did you signal to Xiangyun? What was that about? Is she degrading herself by playing with me? She's a marquis's daughter, I'm a poor girl's child—if she plays with me and I talk back, won't she be the one humiliated? Is that it? That was kind of you, but she didn't appreciate it—she's angry too. You used me to win favour, and called me petty and touchy. And if she offended me, what's it to you?"

Only then did Baoyu realize that his private conversation with Xiangyun had been overheard. He reflected that he had tried to prevent discord between the two, but instead had earned blame from both sides. This recalled the lines from the Zhuangzi he had read the other day: "The clever labour, the wise worry; the无能 have no wants—they eat their fill and drift like an unmoored boat." And also: "The mountain wood is cut for its own use; the spring water is drained for its own sweetness." The more he thought, the more pointless it seemed. If he couldn't even manage these two, what hope was there for the future? Without a word, he turned and went back to his room. Daiyu, seeing him leave, knew he had gone off in a sulk. She grew even angrier and said, "If you go now, don't ever come back or speak to me again."

Baoyu ignored her. In his room he lay on his bed, staring blankly. Xiren knew the cause but dared not speak of it directly; she tried to divert him, "Today's play reminded me—there'll be more plays soon. Miss Baochai will surely host a return banquet." Baoyu sneered, "Whether she does or not, what's it to me?" Xiren, hearing this unlike his usual tone, said, "What's wrong? It's the New Year—everyone's happy—why are you like this?" Baoyu sneered, "Whether they're happy or not is nothing to me." Xiren said, "If they're easy-going, you should be too—wouldn't that be more pleasant?" Baoyu said, "What's 'everyone'? They have their 'everyone'—I have 'naked I come and go, with naught to call my own.'" At this, he wept. Xiren said no more. Baoyu, pondering the line, burst into tears, then rose, went to his desk, and immediately wrote a gatha:

You prove, I prove—
Heart proves, mind proves.
When there is no proving,
That is true proving.
When there is nothing to prove,
That is the ground of standing.

Having written it, though he felt enlightened, he feared others might not understand, so he added a Ji Sheng Cao lyric after it. He read it over, felt free and untroubled, and went to bed.

Now Daiyu, seeing Baoyu leave so abruptly, used the pretext of looking for Xiren to check on him. Xiren smiled, "He's already asleep." Daiyu was about to leave, but Xiren said, "Miss, wait—there's a note here; see what it says." She quietly took the song and gatha and showed them to Daiyu. Daiyu saw that Baoyu had written them in a fit of emotion, and found it both amusing and pitiable. She told Xiren, "It's just a game—nothing serious." She took them back to her room and showed them to Xiangyun. The next day she showed them to Baochai. Baochai read the lyric:

Without me, there is no you;
Let him not understand her.
Freely I come and go, without hindrance.
In the vastness, why speak of grief, joy, or sorrow?
In the crowd, why speak of near or far?
Why was I so busy before?
Now looking back, it all seems so pointless!

She also read the gatha and laughed, "This person has attained enlightenment. It's all my fault—it started with the song I recited yesterday. These Taoist and Zen writings can change one's nature. If tomorrow he starts talking such nonsense, it will all be because of me—I'll be to blame." She tore the paper to pieces and handed it to the maids, "Burn it." Daiyu laughed, "You shouldn't have torn it—let me question him. Come with me, and I'll make him give up this foolishness."

The three went to Baoyu's room. As soon as they entered, Daiyu laughed, "Baoyu, let me ask you: the most precious is 'precious' (bao), the most solid is 'jade' (yu). What is precious about you? What is solid about you?" Baoyu could not answer. They clapped and laughed, "So dull—and you talk of Zen!" Daiyu continued, "Your gatha ends with 'When there is nothing to prove, that is the ground of standing'—that's good, but in my view, it's not perfect. Let me add two lines." She recited: "When there is no ground for standing—that is true purity." Baochai said, "Now that is truly enlightened. When the Sixth Patriarch of the Southern School, Huineng, first sought his teacher in Shaozhou, he heard that the Fifth Patriarch, Hongren, was in Huangmei, and became a kitchen monk. The Fifth Patriarch wanted to choose a successor and asked all the monks to compose a gatha. The head monk, Shenxiu, wrote: 'The body is a bodhi tree, the mind a bright mirror stand; always wipe it diligently, and let no dust alight.' Huineng, who was pounding rice in the kitchen, heard this and said, 'Beautiful, but not yet complete.' He then recited: 'Bodhi is not a tree, the mirror has no stand; originally there is nothing—where can dust alight?' The Fifth Patriarch then gave him the robe and bowl. Today's gatha has the same meaning. But the challenge just now wasn't fully settled—shall we just let it go?" Daiyu laughed, "He couldn't answer, so he lost. Even if he answers now, it's no surprise. But from now on, no more Zen talk. If you don't even know what we two know and can do, how can you talk of Zen?" Baoyu had thought himself enlightened, but Daiyu's question had stumped him, and Baochai had cited the Platform Sutra—things he hadn't expected from them. He thought: "They understood before I did, and they're not enlightened yet—why should I torment myself?" So he laughed, "Who's talking Zen? It was just a joke." With that, the four of them returned to their usual selves.

Suddenly a report came that the Imperial Consort had sent out a lantern riddle and asked everyone to guess it; each person who guessed it was to compose one and send it in. The four hurried out to the Dowager's hall. A young eunuch held a square white gauze lantern with a riddle on it; everyone crowded around to guess. The eunuch announced, "The young ladies are not to speak their guesses aloud, but write them down privately and seal them, and they will be sent to the palace for verification." Baochai and the others came forward and saw a seven-character quatrain—nothing very novel, but they praised it and pretended to think hard, though they guessed it at once. Baoyu, Daiyu, Xiangyun, and Tanchun also understood; they wrote down their answers. Jia Huan and Jia Lan were also summoned; each pondered and wrote a guess. Then each composed a riddle on an object, wrote it neatly, and hung it on the lantern.

The eunuch left and returned that evening with a message: "Her Highness's riddle has been guessed correctly by all except Second Miss and Third Master. The young ladies' riddles have also been guessed—though whether correctly or not..." He then showed the written answers. Some guessed, some didn't, but all claimed to have guessed. Gifts were given to those who guessed correctly: each received a palace-made poetry tube and a tea whisk—except Yingchun and Jia Huan. Yingchun took it as a joke and didn't mind, but Jia Huan felt humiliated. The eunuch added, "Third Master's riddle didn't make sense—Her Highness couldn't guess it and sent me to ask what it was." Everyone looked at what he had written:

Big Brother has eight horns,
Second Brother has just two.
Big Brother sits on the bed,
Second Brother squats on the roof.

Everyone burst out laughing. Jia Huan had to tell the eunuch: "One is a pillow, the other a roof-ornament." The eunuch noted it, had tea, and left.

The Dowager, seeing Yuanchun so cheerful, was even more pleased. She ordered a small, delicate screen-lantern made and placed in the centre of the room, and had the girls compose riddles secretly, write them out, and paste them on the screen. Then she prepared fine tea, fruits, and various playthings as prizes. When Jia Zheng returned from court and saw the Dowager in good spirits—and since it was still the holiday—he came that evening to join the fun. Wine and fruit were laid out, toys prepared, and coloured lanterns hung in the main hall. The Dowager, Jia Zheng, and Baoyu sat at one table; Lady Wang, Baochai, Daiyu, and Xiangyun at another; Yingchun, Tanchun, and Xichun at a third. The serving women and maids stood around. Li Wan and Xifeng sat at another table in the inner room. Jia Zheng, not seeing Jia Lan, asked, "Where is Lan'er?" The serving women went in and asked Li Wan, who rose and smiled, "He said he wasn't summoned, so he wouldn't come." When this was relayed, everyone laughed and said, "What a stubborn one!" Jia Zheng had Jia Huan and two women fetch Jia Lan, and the Dowager made him sit beside her and gave him fruit. They all laughed and chatted.

Usually Baoyu would talk at length, but with Jia Zheng present, he only murmured. Xiangyun, though a young girl, was fond of talking, but today she too fell silent. Daiyu, by nature unwilling to converse much, said little. Baochai, never rash in speech, was composed as always. So though this was a family gathering, it felt restrained and dull. The Dowager knew it was because of Jia Zheng; after three rounds of wine, she urged him to go rest. Jia Zheng, understanding that the Dowager wanted him gone so the younger ones could enjoy themselves, smiled, "Today I heard there were lantern riddles here, so I brought gifts and wine to join the party. Won't you spare a little of your fondness for your grandchildren for your son?" The Dowager laughed, "With you here, they dare not laugh or talk—it bores me. If you want riddles, I'll give you one to guess—if you miss, you'll be fined." Jia Zheng smiled, "Of course I'll be fined. But if I guess right, I should get a prize." The Dowager said, "Naturally." She recited:

Light as a monkey, perched on a treetop.
—Name a fruit.

Jia Zheng knew it was lychee, but deliberately guessed wrong several times, paid many forfeits, and then guessed correctly and received a prize. Then he recited one for the Dowager:

Straight in body, hard in form;
Though it cannot speak, when spoken to it must answer.
—Name an implement.

He whispered the answer to Baoyu, who whispered it to the Dowager. She thought and said, "An inkstone." Jia Zheng smiled, "The Dowager is the sharpest—one guess!" He called for the prizes, and the women brought out trays of gifts. The Dowager looked at each—all new and clever toys for the festival—and was pleased. She said, "Pour wine for your father." Baoyu held the pitcher, Yingchun served the wine. Then the Dowager said, "Look at the screen—the girls made those riddles; guess them for me."

Jia Zheng rose and went to the screen. The first read:

It makes all demons quake with fear,
Its body bound like silk, its voice like thunder.
One blast strikes terror in all hearts,
But turn around—it's turned to ash.

Jia Zheng said, "A firecracker." Baoyu said, "Yes." He read on:

Heaven's ways and human schemes are endless,
But without fate, even skill may fail.
Why does it churn in chaos all day long?
Because yin and yang are never equal.

Jia Zheng said, "An abacus." Yingchun said, "Yes." He continued:

Children look up from below—
At Qingming, it's fairest to show.
When the thread breaks, it has no strength—
Blame not the east wind for parting.

Jia Zheng said, "A kite." Tanchun said, "Yes." He read further:

Its former form and colour failed to last,
It hears no lotus songs, but sutras chanted fast.
Say not this life is sunk in blackest sea—
Within its nature dwells great light and clarity.

Jia Zheng said, "A sea-lamp before the Buddha." Xichun smiled, "Yes, a sea-lamp."

Jia Zheng thought to himself, "The Imperial Consort's firecracker—something that bursts and scatters. Yingchun's abacus—something that clatters in confusion. Tanchun's kite—something that drifts and floats. Xichun's sea-lamp—something of pure loneliness. On this Lantern Festival, why make such inauspicious things into games?" He grew more disturbed, but dared not show it before the Dowager. He forced himself to continue. The last was a seven-character regulated verse by Baochai, which he read:

When court is done, who bears away two sleeves of mist?
By zither or by quilt, no chance for tryst.
No need for cock-crow to announce the dawn,
No maids to trim the lamp at the fifth watch.
Day after day, its head is scorched;
Year after year, its heart is burned.
Time passes swiftly—cherish it well;
Wind, rain, cloud, shine—let all be as they will.

After reading it, Jia Zheng thought, "The object itself is not so bad. But for one so young to write such words—this too bodes ill. None of these seem destined for long life and happiness." He grew even more melancholy, his earlier cheerfulness quite dampened. He bowed his head in thought.

The Dowager, seeing him like this, thought he might be tired, and also feared he was stifling the girls' fun. She said, "You need not guess any more—go and rest. Let us sit a little longer and then disperse." Jia Zheng quickly agreed, offered another toast to the Dowager, and withdrew. Back in his room, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep, filled with sorrow and foreboding.

When Jia Zheng had left, the Dowager said, "Now you can enjoy yourselves." Before she finished, Baoyu ran to the screen-lantern, gesticulating and criticizing—this line was bad, that one was weak—like a monkey let loose from its cage. Baochai said, "Wouldn't it be more refined to sit as before and chat and laugh?" Xifeng rushed out from the inner room, "You! It would serve you right if your father kept you by his side every day. I should have put you on the spot to make riddles too—then you'd be sweating now!" Baoyu clung to Xifeng like a child, pestering her. The Dowager chatted with Li Wan and the girls for a while, then grew drowsy. It was already the fourth watch. She ordered the remains of the feast distributed to the servants, rose, and said, "Let us rest. Tomorrow is still the holiday—we must rise early. We'll play again tomorrow night." We shall hear more in the next chapter.