Guests play drinking games at a brothel banquet,
And visitors stir up trouble at a tea party.
The guests were chatting in Cassia’s room when they heard talk and laughter and the sound of footsteps outside the door. Then the curtain opened, and in walked a prostitute dressed in boys’ clothing. It was Fragrance, and they invited her to join them. After greeting the guests and introducing herself to Cassia, Paria, and Wenlan, she took a seat beside Lu Shu. While the maid busied herself serving tea and replenishing the tobacco, the servant who had come with Fragrance brought in a water pipe with fittings of foreign-engraved silver and an ebony stem incised with decorative images. On top of it was a tobacco pouch of jade green satin with a colorful design in gold couching. It had silver drawstrings, a foreign-engraved silver opening with lotus flower designs interspersed with silver circles, and four colorful tassels. After filling the pipe with genuine Renhe fiber tobacco, he handed it to Fragrance. She took the pipe in her mouth, and the servant blew on the paper spill until it flared up, and then proceeded to light the dry tobacco. Fragrance drew on the pipe a couple of times before holding it to Lu Shu’s mouth. He at once inhaled, and the sweet scent in his nostrils gave him a feeling of exhilaration. He and she gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes, far more intimately than the day before.
Hearing word of the new arrivals, Phoenix and Lucky returned. Wenlan and Fragrance stood up and invited them over. Introductions followed, after which Cassia called out to Phoenix, “Come and have a smoke.”
“No thanks, but you go ahead,” she said. “I’ve had all I want.” Cassia stood up and pulled Phoenix down to sit on the bed. “Come on, only a couple of puffs, just for fun.” Phoenix lay down, but not before preparing a pipe for Wu Zhen.
“I’ve already been smoking for some time,” he said. “Help yourself.” She extended her invitation to the others, but they all said they didn’t smoke. She smoked a little herself, leaving Wu Zhen on the edge of the bed, then moved to the other side and prepared a pipe for him, after which they took it in turns to smoke.
From where he sat, Mu Zhu saw them getting up and lying down, taking what looked like medicinal plaster from a little case, roasting it over the lamp, and then eating it, but he didn’t know what it was they were eating and didn’t like to ask. He sat where he was and stared blankly ahead of him. Then he noticed a low red lacquered table standing on top of a large square table, and on the former was something that looked rather like a wooden box or a toy pavilion. On the top and at each of the four corners were five shiny yellow objects that looked like tiny wax insects made of copper. On the front were two shiny brass posts and a sheet of glass inside which there was a piece of brass engraved with a design in gold. In the center of that was a round sheet of white porcelain, in the middle of which was a small hole as well as two glittering needles. At the edges of the porcelain were several black marks, some straight, some curved, which were neither characters nor magic symbols. From the inside of the object came a ticking sound like that of a willow switch on a donkey’s back. Mu Zhu was puzzling over this, wondering what it might be, when suddenly he heard eleven booming sounds from inside the box.
At that moment Sanzi came in and removed the object to the dressing table and then, with the maid’s help, carried the square table to the center of the room. He brought in four plates of cakes and pastries and set them on the table, made fresh tea, and arranged the chairs. Cassia and her fellow courtesans invited Fragrance and Wenlan and the six guests to help themselves. “We’re still full,” said Jia Ming. “We’ve only just had breakfast. We should let Fragrance and Wenlan eat first.” Cassia and her colleagues pulled Fragrance and Wenlan over to the table and sat them down. Cassia offered them handfuls of melon seeds and candied dates, while Lucky offered cake and Paria snow pears.
Phoenix, who was on the bed smoking, raised herself on one elbow and apologized: “Sisters, please excuse me for not serving you. Do go ahead.”
“See to your habit first,” said Wenlan. “Don’t interrupt your smoking.”
“Phoenix is a lucky woman,” said Fragrance. “She is able to take the elixir.”
“You must be joking, Sister,” said Phoenix. “This stuff will bury us alive.” She lay down and resumed her smoking.
Fragrance peeled some melon seeds and, when no one was looking, slipped them into Lu Shu’s hand. When the two women had finished eating, the plates were removed, and Wenlan took a seat beside the bed. Wu Zhen could tell from her complexion that she was a smoker, and he stood up. “Miss Wenlan, I’ll let you smoke in my place.” She did not demur but lay down opposite Phoenix. The guests continued to banter with the other courtesans. Mu Zhu was the only one who said nothing.
The clock struck two, and Sanzi reported to Wu Zhen, “The food has arrived, sir. Shall we serve it now or later?”
“Since it’s here, let’s have it now.” Sanzi and the house handyman brought in a circular tabletop and placed it on the table, then arranged twelve chairs around it. They also set out twelve pairs of chopsticks as well as platters and heated up two self-service jugs of All Flowers wine and put them on the table. Wu Zhen then invited the guests to take their seats.
“With a circular table the question of seniority doesn’t arise,” said Jia Ming. “Brother Lu will sit next to Fragrance, that goes without saying. Brother Mu is a visitor from a long way off, and since Miss Wenlan has been invited to join us, she should keep him company. Brothers Yuan and Wei should sit beside whichever lady they like.” He took Phoenix’s arm. “Let’s sit together.”
“Perhaps Miss Lucky could sit beside me?” said Wei Bi.
“Miss Cassia already has a patron,” said Yuan You. “That leaves Miss Paria as the odd one out. She’d better sit with me.”
“It’s not that we don’t want to pay court to Miss Paria,” said Jia Ming. “It’s just that she’s such a hot number we’re afraid she might scorch us!”
“We’ve only just met, and already you’re critiquing poor little me,” she replied. “I’ll have something to say to you later.”
“We’re an old married couple, you and I,” said Cassia to Wu Zhen. “There’s no need for any false modesty. Go ahead and sit down.”
They took their seats, all except Mu Zhu, who remained standing. “Come and sit down, Master Mu,” said Wenlan.
“Do sit down,” added Yuan You. “As I told you in the courtyard a moment ago, I’ll see that you don’t come to any harm.”
Wu Zhen pulled Mu Zhu over to the table and sat him down, where he found himself next to Wenlan. He blushed furiously and his heart began to pound—he was mortally afraid of touching her. But just as he was thinking of edging to the right, lo and behold, there on the other side was Paria. He was thoroughly unnerved.
When the maid noticed him shrinking into himself, she remarked, “Master Mu, I’m not speaking for Miss Wenlan, you understand, but if she’s a little lacking in refinement, I do hope you’ll make allowances for her. After you’ve had your lunch, I’ll be your matchmaker.”
“But I’m already engaged,” he hastily replied. “Our horoscopes have been checked, and we’re due to marry in the seventh month. The reason I’m here in Yangzhou is to buy some odds and ends for the wedding. I can’t possibly get engaged to anyone else.” The others couldn’t contain their amusement at this exchange.
The courtesans deferred politely to each other as to who would offer a toast. Finally Cassia seized a wine jug and said, “In my own room I claim the right ahead of my sisters to drink to the whole company.” Having filled all the cups, she raised hers in the air, drained it, then waited while the others drained theirs before bringing her cup down on the table and refilling all the cups. The other women handed around plates of fruit and nuts and toasted the company in their turn. Cassia said, “And now I claim another right ahead of my sisters: let’s play guess-fingers!” They played three games, with each of them winning and losing. The losers asked the winners for an alternative penalty and ended up drinking or singing. Only Mu Zhu refused to play; he said he didn’t even know how to play the game of guessing melon seeds. When his turn came to play guess-fingers, he preferred to drink a cup of wine instead, and nobody felt like forcing him to play.
By the time each of the women had started a game, some had had to drink wine as a penalty, others had had to sing songs. When a dish arrived, everyone ate some of it. “Guess-fingers is terribly boring,” said Wu Zhen. “Let’s have some fun and play a literary game. What do you say, gentlemen?”
“That would be ideal,” said Jia Ming, “but it should be a game to suit all tastes. Shall we include the courtesans, or just play among ourselves?”
“The six of us will each offer an entry. For example, when I finish mine, Miss Cassia will give us a song. When Brother Jia finishes his, we’ll ask Miss Phoenix to oblige, and so forth. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Everyone approved of the idea except Mu Zhu, who said nothing. “What do you think, Brother Mu?” asked Wu Zhen.
“I don’t know anything about this literary game business,” he said. “I’d rather just go ahead and have a cup of wine.”
“Since he won’t be taking part, we should present him with a large cup,” said the others, calling for one and filling it to the brim. Without a word of protest, he took it and drained it in a single draft, drawing a chorus of admiration from the others. “What a capacity the man has!”
Wu Zhen was then called upon to give the rules of the game. He drank the master’s cup and announced, “One nickname from Outlaws of the Marshes,1 one line from the Four Books,2 and one line from the West Chamber,3 all of which have to make sense when strung together. Anyone who can’t think of an answer, or who gives a wrong answer, will be penalized with a large cup.”
“You lead the way.”
“Jade unicorn / showed undue sorrow / and didn’t care that gown and sleeves were damp from wiping away tear after tear.”4
General praise greeted the answer. Cassia followed it with a “Soft and Even Air”:
Pairs of swallows fluttering in the eaves,
Peach trees aflame with blossom,
Willows a misty green.
Before the mirror
Once rosy cheeks are pale and drawn.
I long for his return,
But no word comes.
My breast is full of springtime sorrow,
My brows are locked in grief.
Oh, dreary days!
Where is he making merry?
Oh, dreary days!
Where is he making merry?
When she had finished, everyone applauded, but Wu Zhen said, “We’re heartily sick of these conventional songs.5 If anyone else sings one, she’ll have to drink a large cup.”
“Quite right, quite right,” they agreed.
Now it was Jia Ming’s turn: “Master calligrapher / is awe-inspiring but not fierce; / with the tip of his brush he is able to sweep away five thousand.”6 After everyone had praised it, Phoenix called for a lute, adjusted the strings, and sang a “Played and Lost”:
Because of you I’m sick with love,
Because of you I’m sick with love.
Aiya!
Because of you I’m loath to dress my hair.
Such pain!
Because of you my dreaming soul has soared beyond,
Beyond Mount Wu.
Because of you my brows are dark with sorrow.
Because of you my brows are dark with sorrow.
Aiya!
Because of you I’m reduced to skin and bone.
Such grief!
Because of you I don’t know when I’ll clear my debt,
My debt of love.
She finished to general applause, and someone relieved her of the lute. “Miss Phoenix is a great flatterer,” said Wu Zhen. “I don’t know who she can be so lovesick for, considering that today she’s pretending to be so fond of our brother Jia!”
“Master Wu, you’d better not make any more of these nasty insinuations,” said Phoenix. “If I were to tell Cassia a certain something, you’d never hear the end of it.”
“Enough of those fighting words,” said Jia Ming. “Quick, Brother Yuan. Give us your offering.”
Yuan said, “The tattooed priest / first cultivated his person / but had no respect for ‘The Emperor’s Penitence.’”7 It was greeted with applause, after which Paria sang a “Full River Red”:
O, my handsome one,
I love your romantic looks,
Your natural elegance.
I love your nature,
Your cleverness in all you do,
Your gentleness of speech.
I love the fact you’re never false,
But absolutely true;
We’re a perfect karmic match.
Worthless gems are easy to find;
Genuine ones are few.
So hard to find a man of feeling!
When shall I have my wish?
There’s something dear to my heart
That I want to ask but cannot.
I wonder, would you say yes?
That I want to ask but cannot.
I wonder, would you say yes?
After the applause had died down, Wu Zhen commented, “There’s no need to worry, Miss Paria. Our brother Yuan is more than willing to say yes, and I guarantee that tonight you’ll get your wish.”
“As to whether she gets her wish or not, we’ll take that up later,” said Jia Ming. “But right now we have to move along. It’s Brother Lu’s turn.”
Lu Shu said, “The rake / bored a hole in the wall to peep; / if it isn’t marriage he has in mind, what is it?”8
After the applause, Jia Ming had a question for Fragrance: “Did you hear those words straight from our brother Lu’s heart?” She gave a faint smile and, calling to her servant to bring her a lute, adjusted the strings, and sang a “Split the Broken Jade”:
O, my handsome one,
You’ve forgotten when first we met.
Then it was
That I fell in love with you,
And you with me.
Our love was deep and true,
And foolish me, I hoped that it would last forever.
I never thought you’d cast me off along the way.
You abandoned me, but I’ll not let you go.
O, you lecherous rake,
You falsehearted rogue,
Wicked deceiver of women—
I only hope that soon you’ll honor your vow.
Someone relieved her of her lute, and Wu Zhen commented: “Miss Fragrance, that song of yours was really very depressing. Our brother Lu is hardly as faithless as all that. I shall have to sentence you to drink a large cup.”
“You may criticize my song, but I can really drink only a little. I shall have to beg for mercy.”
“Only Brother Lu can give you that,” said the others.
“If she sang a bad song, sentence her to sing a good one,” suggested Lu Shu.
“Brother Lu can’t bear to make her drink,” said Jia Ming. “He’s letting her off lightly.”
“There’s no need to carp, gentlemen,” said Fragrance. “I’ll pay for my sins by singing an Erhuang.”
“See you choose one of the best,” said Yuan You.
A musician was hastily summoned, and he took a seat beside Fragrance and began to play his fiddle. Fragrance picked up her lute, adjusted the strings, and sang:
Lin Daiyu, too bored for words, depressed at heart.
Outside she hears the wind in the bamboos—utter desolation.
She calls her maid to open the window and tries to lift her spirits.
When first she came into this compound, such excitement!
With Baoyu she shared her meals and even a bed.
He loved me, and I loved him, never apart for an instant.
Her foolish heart genuinely hoped she’d have him with her forever.
But by this time they’re both grown up, and boys and girls must part.
They see each other, and nothing is said but trite, meaningless words.
Then out of the blue along comes this relative, Auntie Xue.
She has a daughter, Baochai by name, who seems so nice and proper,
But she talks about the gold and jade as destined for each other,
And foolish Baoyu, hearing this talk, gets wild ideas in his head.
Have pity on me, all on my own, orphaned as a child.
Without end, the pain in my breast! To whom can I bare my soul?
All I can do is cry and cry, hiding my broken heart.
Most hateful of all is Wang Xifeng, who has driven us lovers apart.
As she finished, the audience applauded. Someone relieved her of the lute, and the musician left the room. Then they all began pressing Wei Bi to give his offering. “I’m not going to,” he said. “I’d rather drink a cup of wine.” Wu Zhen would not accept that and continued to press him, until finally Wei Bi said, “The heavenly king who lifts the pagoda / arises every morning at the fifth watch / and tempts Master Zhang to leap over the wall.”
“Brother Wei, what penalty should you pay for that?” asked the others in the midst of their laughter.
“I didn’t make any mistakes, so why should I pay any penalty at all? ‘Heavenly king’ is Chao Gai’s nickname, and you can’t tell me that ‘arises every morning at the fifth watch’ isn’t from one of the Four Books, or that the Master Zhang of ‘and tempts Master Zhang to leap over the wall’ isn’t a character from the West Chamber?”
“Stop quibbling, Brother,” said Jia Ming. “Chao Gai is not one of the heavenly or earthly stars in Outlaws of the Marshes, but he is a character in the novel, and we could let you get away with that. But ‘arises every morning at the fifth watch’ is from the Girls’ Classic of Filial Piety,9 which was written by a later author; it’s certainly not one of the Four Books, and for that you’ll be fined a large cup. ‘And tempts Master Zhang to leap over the wall’ isn’t a line from the West Chamber but from some singer’s ‘Fresh Flowers,’10 and for that you’ll be fined another large cup.”
“I know I ought to accept your sentence,” said Wei Bi, “but I really have a very small capacity where wine’s concerned, and I couldn’t drink both cups.”
“Let me drink one of them for him,” volunteered Lucky.
“You were due to sing a song, anyway,” said Wu Zhen, “and now you want to drink instead of him, too. You’ll have to give us a song first, before we can agree to that.”
“If you wish.”
“Let me drink a small cup,” said Wei.
“If Brother Wei is adamant about not drinking, he should tell us a joke instead,” said Jia Ming.
“Good idea,” said the others.
“I don’t sing well, so you’ll have to make allowances,” said Lucky. She set up a counter and rose from her seat. With a green imported-crepe handkerchief embroidered with a multicolored image of a phoenix among peonies that was done in gold couching, she performed a “Sweet Sixteen Artfully Applying Her Makeup.”11 Following the applause she went back to the table, removed the counter, and downed a large cup of wine.
Pressed to tell a joke, Wei Bi said, “Don’t blame me if it doesn’t make you laugh.”
“It’s all in fun. Who’s going to criticize you? Get on with it.”
“I’ll only make a fool of myself.”
“We can’t wait to hear you.”
“Two friends, both posing as men of culture, happened to meet on the road. After they had exchanged bows, one asked, ‘Have you come up with any beautiful lines of poetry recently?’ The other replied, ‘Just the other day a friend of mine asked me to write a couplet for him. His parents were both in good health, he had a wife and several concubines, and he wanted the couplet to include references to the happiness of his entire family. I took the New Year’s couplet ‘As heaven adds another twelvemonth, people get a year older / As spring fills the world, good fortune fills the household’ and changed a few characters, to read ‘As Father adds another twelvemonth, Mother gets a year older / As the wife fills the world, the concubines fill the household.’ Do you think I managed to get the happiness of the whole family in?’
“The other man clapped his hands and roared with laughter. ‘It goes to show that all men of culture think alike,’ he said. ‘The other day my mother had her sixtieth birthday, and everything was ready except the couplet. My brother wouldn’t stoop to ask anybody to make one up, so he, too, adapted that same New Year’s couplet, to read ‘As heaven adds another twelvemonth, Mother gets a year older / As spring fills the world, Father fills the household.’”12
The audience roared with laughter, exclaiming “‘Father fills the household’—very good!” Wei Bi drank a small cup of wine. “Brother Mu isn’t taking part,” said the others, “so we’ll offer him a large cup and then have a song from Miss Wenlan.” Confident of his own capacity for wine, Mu Zhu raised the cup in both hands and drained it in a single draft.
“Now it’s my turn to make a fool of myself,” said Wenlan. “I don’t sing well, so I hope you’ll make allowances.”
“There’s no need for the clichés,” said Yuan You. “Just hurry up and sing.”
She sang a “Cutting Flowers”:
Bored beyond words in her room,
Listless when the craving hits,
Truly she is buried alive.
Innumerable yawns,
Interminable sneezes,
Tears that fall in a stream.
No strength is left in her limbs;
With an itch in her throat, a pain in her belly,
She feels as if she were giving birth.
She has no money for opium;
The shops are shut, so she can’t use credit.
Smoking dross will be the death of her!
“But should my lover truly care,
He’ll bring me a packet and save me,
And I’ll close my door and spend the rest of my life with him.”
Following the applause, Yuan You said, “Miss Wenlan, if someday you do give it up, I’ll bring you a big bowl of the stuff, so that you can shut your door and spend the rest of your life with me.”
“Oh, you’re all talk,” she said, with a sidelong glance at him.
“Those answers you gave were great fun,” said Paria. “I’ve thought of one, too. I don’t know if it’s acceptable or not.”
“Let’s hear it, by all means,” said Jia Ming in a surprised tone of voice.
“Timely rain / a sudden clap of thunder / I am both startled and in love.”13
Jia Ming praised it repeatedly. “It’s succinct, and it makes perfect sense—extremely clever. We were so stupid we failed to see you had such a remarkable ability. We buried a true talent, as they say, and now we must offer you a large cup. We’ll keep you company and drink one ourselves.” He called for some large cups, picked up the jug, poured out one cup, and gave it to Paria. She stood up to receive it, then took the jug away from him and poured large cups for all of the others. They drained theirs as she drained hers, after which Wu Zhen drank another cup to start the final round. Jia Ming, Yuan You, Lu Shu, and Wei Bi each offered answers, and Phoenix, Cassia, Paria, Lucky, and Fragrance sang popular songs, while Wenlan sang “A Widow’s Five Watches Lament,”14 which was well received.
“I’ve heard that you also have one called something like ‘An Attendant’s Five Watches Lament,’” said Yuan You to Wenlan. “It’s said to be topical and also very good. We’d like you to sing it for us.” At first, Wenlan said that she couldn’t, but Yuan You insisted. He asked Phoenix and Fragrance to accompany her on the lute and summoned one of the musicians to sit on one side and play the fiddle. He also picked up a pair of ivory chopsticks and started drumming on a five-inch porcelain plate in an attempt to get Wenlan to start.
“I don’t sing at all well,” she said. “You will have to make allowances for me.”
“We can’t wait to hear you,” they replied.
At first watch, the moon outside is brilliant;
Such a pity our fate is so wretched!
Enduring hardship,
We race here and there but never find a master.
Leaving our homes, abandoning our parents;
How I regret that long ago I never learned to reap and plow.
North and south I go, urged on by friends,
Money and clothes required.
Oh, heaven!
Modesty must be set aside as I submit my letter of introduction.
At second watch the moon outside is bright.
Such a pity our military skills fell short!
In the lowest rank,
At first we were fed on noodle water.
I had no part in army orders, nothing to do with cavalry signals;
I drew escort duty for soldier convicts sent to frontier camp.
Escorting convicts, you hasten there and back;
And if the convict gets irate, you smile and beg his pardon.
Oh, heaven!
Even the fellows transporting freight I didn’t dare offend.
At third watch the moon outside is chill.
Such a pity, the troubles we face in serving officials!
How infuriating,
The toadying it takes to be an attendant!
Serving tea and tobacco, we smile as we bend before them.
Some officials like to fool around.
Our friends tease us about it with sundry caustic remarks.
Our hearts fill with rage, but we cannot tell a soul.
Oh, heaven!
There’s a saying: Catamite when young, brothel servant in your middle years, beggar in old age.
At fourth watch the moon outside is full.
Such a pity we can’t hold on to our money!
If we have the good fortune
To become a doorman and enjoy some power,
Our clothes will be in the latest style, on a par with those of a clerk.
We’ll learn to tell the different brands of opium,
We’ll spend our days and nights with whores and boy actors,
We’ll waste our money and forget our families.
Oh, heaven!
At the first rebuff we’ll pack up and leave.
At fifth watch the moon outside is on the wane.
Such a pity, our less than human state!
We cannot make complaints.
Pulling strings to get a doorman’s job,
What with reports and messages, we have to keep our wits about us.
Ordered here and there in utter confusion,
Frantically busy all day long, terrified of shouts from every quarter,
But let a doorman ask for money, and you’ll see them throw a fit.
Oh, heaven!
If I weren’t so hooked on opium, I’d have gotten out years ago.
It’s dawn, but the moon outside still lingers;
Such a pity when we quit our jobs!
No one knows the pain.
We can’t afford to stay in our lodgings.
All our belongings are in the pawnshop, and our clothes are out of style.
When the opium craving hits, there’s nothing we can do.
When we think of wife and children, we dissolve into tears.
Our friends cannot pull any strings.
Oh, heaven!
Who said that an official’s attendant had to be sent so far from home to die?
The audience applauded with cries of “Marvelous!” Someone relieved Phoenix and Fragrance of their lutes, Yuan You put his chopsticks and the plate back on the table, and the musician went off with his fiddle. A large cup of wine was poured and offered to Wenlan, then everyone drank a similar cup in celebration of her singing. Phoenix and Fragrance each sang arias from opera as well as Xipi and Erhuang songs. By this time everyone was more than a little tipsy, and they said, “Let’s have something to eat now and continue the party in the evening.” After eating, they wiped their hands and faces, then sat around the room drinking tea. Wu Zhen and Cassia went back to the bed and lay down to satisfy their opium habits.
At this point Mu Zhu insisted on leaving, and nothing Wu Zhen could say would dissuade him. “Since he wants to leave, why not let him go?” said Yuan You. On hearing those words, Mu Zhu fled from the room without even saying good-bye. As soon as he had left, Wu Zhen produced a note discounted forty percent and tipped the servants on Wenlan’s behalf. He also gave her a two thousand cash note for herself, after which she took her leave. Yuan thanked Wu Zhen on behalf of Mu Zhu.
Phoenix led Jia Ming quietly off to her room. He noticed that the room, although sparsely furnished, was spotlessly clean. There were four portraits of beautiful women on the walls, plus a pair of calligraphic scrolls on yellow wax paper:
Phoenixes sing in harmony, luan birds dance together;
Forest flowers glow with brilliance, butterflies flit forever.
The first line of the attribution read, “Playfully composed by Miss Phoenix,” and the second, “Written and presented by the Flower-Loving Student.” After inviting Jia Ming to come in and sit down, Phoenix called in the maid to make a pot of strong tea. She chose a multicolored beaker of fine porcelain, half filled it with tea, and offered it to Jia Ming. She also told the maid to light the opium lamp and invited him to smoke. When he said he didn’t smoke, she urged him to try one or two draws to relieve his hangover. Pulling him over to the bed, she prepared a pellet for him.
“I’m no smoker,” he said, “but after a single draw, I believe this has more fragrance than what Miss Cassia keeps in her room. Why is that?”
“The other day a client brought me some of the big stuff,15 which I mixed and roasted. That’s why it’s a little more fragrant. Try another.” After Jia Ming had smoked again, he found his hangover somewhat relieved.
“How many are there in your family?” he asked her, but she did not answer. He repeated the question several times, until finally she said with a sigh, “Master Jia, you mustn’t laugh at me. I lost my mother when I was very young, and my father, who was both a drunkard and a gambler, promised me as a child bride to a son of Lan Siniang, a hairdresser in a brothel. At the age of six I was taken to Qingjiang to learn to play music and sing, but I refused to learn and suffered goodness knows how many beatings and curses. My mother-in-law opened a house of her own in Qingjiang with a dozen or more girls, and at the age of twelve I was forced into the same filthy business. I can’t tell you how much money I made for them! But my husband and his brother whored, gambled, and smoked opium. They also slept around among the girls, played any number of tricks, got involved in several lawsuits, and piled up over a thousand taels in debts. They couldn’t keep the house going anymore and did a flit to Yangzhou. And now my mother-in-law, husband, and brother-in-law have rented a one-room shanty and need four or five hundred cash every day for their living expenses. I’m in here, and although I’m supposed to be on a split-fee basis, all my bedding was bought with a high-interest loan. The jewelry and clothes I had in Qingjiang have been pawned, and every day now I have to use high-interest loans to buy cakes, flowers for my hair, cosmetics, and other odds and ends, as well as a few pellets of that accursed stuff. Every day my family clamors for money. I’ve not been here very long and I have no steady clients. Tell me, how am I going to get by?” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“You may have fallen into prostitution,” said Jia Ming, “but you don’t have the vulgar manner of the typical prostitute. Just have patience; something good is bound to turn up. If you don’t object, I would like to pay court to you. How would you feel about that?”
“But you’re on top of the ladder, sir, and here am I with my large feet and ugly face. I’m afraid I’m not worth paying court to.”
“I’m sick to death of that kind of talk! If you and I were to have a relationship, I could help you with all those little expenses you spoke of.”
Maid Gao was filling the water pipe with tobacco when she heard this and spoke up. “Our Miss Phoenix is really extremely nice. The trouble is that she has only just arrived here and her family is such a heavy burden. If you do have a relationship with her, it will be her good fortune.”
“We’re working this out by ourselves,” said Jia Ming. “We don’t need any of those smart comments of yours. Soon you’ll be saying I should thank you for serving as matchmaker, and then you’ll be making requests of me.”
“Ah, but whoever heard of a bride getting into the wedding chair on her own?”
As they bantered with each other, Lu Shu and Fragrance came in holding hands. “You were just getting to the best part of the discussion,” said Lu Shu. “We shouldn’t have come in and bothered you.”
Phoenix scrambled to her feet. “Master Lu, Sister Fragrance, please sit down.” Maid Gao filled their pipes with tobacco and offered them tea.
“I was just discussing her family affairs with Miss Phoenix,” said Jia Ming. “It’s a very sad story.” Phoenix invited Lu Shu and Fragrance to smoke some opium, but they declined and told her to lie down herself and satisfy her habit.
After some more idle conversation, Sanzi came in and announced, “Master Wu is inviting all of you to afternoon tea.” Phoenix told Maid Gao to put out the lamp and ushered the guests into Cassia’s room, where they had some refreshments and chatted and joked with one another. In the evening, the candles were lit, the table was set, and they seated themselves in the same places as before.
In the midst of the revelry, when they were half tipsy, they heard the footsteps of a number of men in the courtyard below, as well as the sound of several torches being thrown to the ground. Then they heard Sanzi’s voice calling out, “Please come in and take a seat,” followed by the sound of men entering the room opposite. Sanzi came into their room and quietly called Paria and Lucky out. Before long Lucky came back, canceled her counter, and took her seat again, winking at Phoenix to indicate that she should leave the room. Somewhat later, they heard raised voices in the room opposite, as well as teacups being dashed to the floor. “You show us no respect!” someone was shouting. “It’s not that we come here very often. What do you take us for? This is an insult!” Then they heard Paria replying, “Godfathers,16 what has made you so angry? Whatever we’ve done wrong, please make allowances for my sake.” Then they heard the men saying, “These people will heed the guardian gods with their eyes open, but not Buddha with his eyes shut.17 We’re leaving. We’ll see how long this house of yours can go on playing these games.” There followed a babble of voices as they returned to the courtyard and relit their torches. They could still be heard muttering as they took a furious departure.
If you wish to know what happened, you must turn to the next chapter.
