The Red Chamber (35 page)

Instead of being reassured, Snowgoose stares at the jade as if it is a poisonous snake. “Put that away,” she hisses.

Daiyu tucks it back inside her collar.

“Now listen to me.” Snowgoose takes Daiyu’s hand and looks intently into her eyes. “You must give the jade back, and break things off with Baoyu. He must never, never visit you at night again. I should have realized there would be trouble when they had you live all alone in those apartments with no one to watch over you!”

She has never heard Snowgoose speak with such urgency before. “Don’t you see, Snowgoose? He isn’t just flirting with me. Giving me the jade means that I’m the person he wants to spend his life with—”

“You must give it back to him,” Snowgoose repeats, unheeding. “Don’t you understand how much trouble there will be if anyone finds out—”

“But I want them to find out. Baoyu is going to talk to Uncle Zheng and Granny.”

“Talk to them! Do you really think that will do any good? Of course they want him to marry someone rich and powerful, like Baochai.”

“Why does it matter? They are rich and powerful enough themselves.”

“That’s the very reason that they want him to marry someone else rich and powerful.”

“But don’t you think that Lady Jia cares about Baoyu’s happiness? She loves him so. If he can convince her that the only way he will be happy is with me …”

“The only one Lady Jia loves is herself.”

“But what if he passes the Exams? Won’t they be satisfied then, and let him marry whom he chooses?”

“If he passes the Exams, he’ll need a rich and powerful wife to advance—” Snowgoose breaks off suddenly as if a new thought has occurred to her. “And what about Baochai?”

“Oh, she won’t care,” Daiyu says confidently. “She would just as soon be betrothed to someone else, as long as he was from a good family, too.”

Snowgoose shakes her head. “No one wants to suffer the loss of face and embarrassing questions of a broken betrothal.”

“But she won’t really suffer very badly, because the betrothal was kept secret in the first place. Besides, it’s not as if she loves him.”

“What makes you so sure she doesn’t love him?”

Daiyu only smiles. Snowgoose does not know Baochai as she does. Of course she is only marrying Baoyu because her mother arranged the match. It is inconceivable to Daiyu that Baochai has any feelings for him.

Before Daiyu’s visit, Baochai asks Oriole to heat some water. She has Oriole set out soap, a hair string, fresh towels, and a bottle of Oil of Flowers. Her mother, who has had another migraine, is still sleeping in the back bedroom.

When Daiyu comes in, Baochai greets her warmly, and then says, smiling, “It’s such a nice sunny day. I was about to wash my hair. Do you want to wash yours, too, as long as I have everything ready?”

Daiyu smiles back, apparently pleased by Baochai’s friendliness. “That’s a good idea.”

Baochai tells Oriole to set the basin on a small table in a sunny patch near the open door. She goes to her dressing table to take off her bracelets and roll up her sleeves. “Why don’t you go first?”

“Of course not. You should go first.”

“There’s no need to be so polite.” Baochai laughs. “You go first.”

Baochai insists, and eventually Daiyu gives in. She drapes a towel over Daiyu’s shoulders, and begins to pluck out her hairpins.

“I can do that myself.”

“Good Heavens, why are you being so polite today? It’s easier when someone else does it for you. Besides, I’m very good at giving head massages, don’t you remember? I’ll wash your hair, then you wash mine.”

Daiyu sits on a stool next to the basin, and Baochai uses her own comb to smooth out the tangles in Daiyu’s hair. She notices how different it is from her own. Thin and fine and inky black, the clinging strands are so delicate that Baochai has to be careful not to tear them. Baochai’s hair is coarse and heavy, with reddish brown tints. When she can finally draw the comb smoothly through the long, silky strands, she asks Daiyu to stand up and lean over the basin. “I am afraid of splashing on your robe. Why don’t you unbutton it a little so it won’t get wet?” she says.

“All right.” Daiyu opens the tight collar of her gown, undoing the top three fastenings, so that she can roll the fabric away from her neck. She bends over the basin, flipping her hair up over the crown of her head so that it hangs into the water. Almost without surprise, Baochai sees the jade, dangling on the familiar black and gold knotted cord around Daiyu’s neck. She is glad Daiyu cannot see her face. How strange, she thinks, that Daiyu is having an affair with Baoyu—for his giving her the jade can mean only that—but is able to face Baochai and receive favors from her, without apparent guilt or shame.

She cups her fingers and splashes water onto Daiyu’s hair, then rubs soap into Daiyu’s scalp, using her fingernails to loosen the oil at the roots. Sometimes she digs her fingernails into Daiyu’s scalp more roughly than
she has to. More than once she feels Daiyu wincing a little beneath her hands. When she has subjected Daiyu’s scalp to a merciless scrubbing, she pushes Daiyu’s head into the basin to rinse it. She feels Daiyu relaxing as she scoops the warm water over her head. Below Daiyu’s notched hairline, her skin is snow-white and flawlessly smooth. Her neck is long and slender, curving away from the graceful sweep of her shoulders. Baochai’s own shoulders are fleshy, with a sprinkling of pimples. Her neck is short. Perhaps if she had been as beautiful as Daiyu she would have been able to keep Baoyu’s notice.

Looking down at Daiyu’s neck, she pictures Baoyu touching it and kissing it, and is filled, not with jealousy, but with disgust. She has no doubt that such scenes really do occur, and suspects Baoyu of sneaking to Daiyu’s bedroom under the cover of night. Now Daiyu’s freedom from constraint, which she had previously liked, strikes her as dangerous. She has broken the trust of the family that had taken her in, wantonly crushing the dignity and propriety of the household, and Baochai’s own feelings. Didn’t she understand that belonging to a large household was like being suspended in a web? You could not move a muscle without feeling the cling of gossamer threads, without knowing that your movements sent reverberations up and down the entire structure. Didn’t she know how she would fall without those invisible threads to hold her safely aloft?

She wrings Daiyu’s hair dry with the hair string, then gathers it into a lazy knot. “That’s better, isn’t it? Now it’s my turn.”

9

After slipping back to his own room from Daiyu’s the night before, Baoyu had hardly slept. He had resolved to approach his father after dinner before his crammer came. He is afraid of his father’s anger; but despite their constant conflicts, he trusts his father more than anyone else in the family. His father doesn’t play favorites. He is principled, despite his blustery temper and old-fashioned ideas. His decision made, Baoyu lay awake till dawn rehearsing various speeches, trying to figure out how to convince his father that marrying Baochai will result in a lifetime of misery for the two of them, and Daiyu as well.

At dinnertime, his father does not appear. His father’s absence is not unusual. What is strange is that he has not sent a message excusing himself and telling them to eat without him. Granny delays dinner forty-five minutes, grumbling the whole time, before growing impatient and ordering the meal to be served. By then, the whole evening’s schedule is off. A page comes in to announce the crammer, and Baoyu has to rush off to his study in the outer part of the mansion without exchanging a word with Daiyu.

He muddles through the lesson, so distracted that the tutor threatens to tell his father. At the end of the lesson, he rushes out to look for his father at his apartments. Jia Zheng is still not home. Only Auntie Zhao is there, playing dice in her nightclothes with one of her maids.

“Hasn’t my father sent a message?” he asks.

“No.” Apparently unconcerned by Jia Zheng’s lateness, she climbs off the
kang
. “Why don’t you stay here and wait for him? Fivey here can prepare some snacks and wine.”

He knows that Auntie Zhao hates him and slanders him behind his back, but to his face, she is sugar sweet. In order not to offend her, he stays and has a little wine and a few cakes. Under the best of circumstances he finds it hard to make conversation with such a harsh-tempered and narrow-minded woman. He does his best to nod and smile at whatever she says, while surreptitiously watching the progress of the hands on the West Ocean clock.

When the clock strikes ten thirty, he takes his leave, telling Auntie Zhao he is going to bed. Instead, he goes to the Inner Gates. They are shut at this hour, and he has to call the gatewomen to open them. They look at him in surprise when he tells them he is going out to his father’s study. He lights the lamp in the silent, empty room, examining his father’s things to distract himself from his worry. On the corner of the desk he notices a well-worn book. Careful not to let the bookmark slip out of its pages, he finds that it is a copy of Mencius. He smiles despite himself. Most officials, after passing the Exams, never open the Classics again; but here is his father, reading Mencius in his spare time.

At last he hears footsteps outside and glances at the clock. It is almost midnight.

“Father, I need to speak to you—” he begins, but breaks off at the sight of his father’s face. “What’s the matter? Why are you home so late?”

His father does not answer. Baoyu pushes a chair towards him. “Here, sit down.”

Jia Zheng slumps in the seat, staring blankly before him. Baoyu forces himself to go on, afraid his courage will fail him. “I must talk to you about something important. I want to break my betrothal to Baochai and marry Daiyu. I don’t care for Baochai. If I don’t marry Daiyu, it will break my heart and I will—”

His father shakes his head, raising both hands as if trying to thrust Baoyu’s words away.

“What’s the matter?” Baoyu cries. “Why won’t you say anything? Aren’t you feeling well?”

Jia Zheng’s face twitches. Baoyu realizes that his father is trying to keep from bursting into tears.

“Father.” Baoyu sinks to his knees, taking his father’s hands. “Tell me what the matter is.”

“His Highness is dying.”

“What! But I heard today at school he was getting better.”

“He had some kind of seizure this evening at dinner.”

“Isn’t there anything the Imperial Physician can do?”

Jia Zheng buries his face in his hands, shaking his head. “They say he is in a coma and may never wake up.”

Baoyu stands there, strangely unmoved by the Emperor’s plight, his mind racing. Prince Yinti is not yet back in the Capital; perhaps there will be a struggle for the succession. The prospect of unrest in the Capital makes him more determined to resolve the issue of his betrothal, so that if anything happens, he will be able to take care of Daiyu.

“Father.”

Jia Zheng ignores him, still sobbing.

“Father, I know that you are worried about His Highness. I am, too. But this can’t wait. I need to speak to you about my betrothal.”

After a moment, Jia Zheng lifts his face up from his hands. “What do you want?”

“I want you to help me break my betrothal to Baochai. I want to marry Daiyu.”

Jia Zheng’s face is red and puffy, but his tear-swollen eyes seem to focus on Baoyu. He pauses, then repeats, “You want to break your betrothal?”

“Yes.”

“And marry Daiyu?”

“Yes.”

His father slumps back in the chair and shuts his eyes. He seems to be absorbing what the words mean with an effort. Finally, he opens his eyes. “I understand, but this is not the time to talk about it. You can bring it up with me later. I will see what I can do.”

Baoyu slips into Daiyu’s room and wakes her with kisses.

“What is it?” she says sleepily.

“I spoke to my father tonight.”

“Yes?” She rubs her eyes.

“His Highness had some sort of attack and has fallen into a coma.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yes.” He climbs under the covers. The night air has turned cool, and her body is warm against his. “My father was crying. I’ve never seen him so upset before.”

“What will happen?”

“I don’t know.” He puts his arms around her. He does not want to worry her. “Maybe His Highness will linger on until Prince Yinti comes back to the Capital.”

“But he might not.” She lifts her head and looks into his face. “What do you think will happen?”

“No one can know. But I spoke to my father about breaking my betrothal.”

“What did he say?”

“He was very upset about His Highness, but when I pressed him about it, he said that he would see what he could do.”

“You mean he doesn’t object?” He hears the joy in her voice.

“No, he didn’t seem to.”

“Then, that means … I’d hardly dared hope …” She flings her arms around him and buries her face in his neck. “I’m so happy!” One of the things he loves about her is her spontaneity. Other girls are too self-conscious ever to be unguarded.

He puts his arms around her and squeezes her tightly. “But we shouldn’t let our hopes get too high. He still has to convince Granny,” he reminds her, though he, too, feels giddy with hope. As they lie in each other’s arms, she lifts her face to his and kisses him, a little timidly. At the butterfly-like touch of her lips, he kisses her back gently at first, and then more urgently. He tangles his fingers in her hair. She returns his kisses, her mouth clinging to his. Her mouth is soft, with the faint, sweet-sour taste of the rice that she has eaten for dinner. Their kisses are bolder now, their mouths half open. He had taught himself to resist the urge to touch her, but tonight, he no longer holds back. He buries his face in the softness of her hair, scented with Oil of Flowers, and lets his hands move over her body, following the indentation of her narrow waist, feeling the curve of her buttocks. He touches her tentatively at first, but she puts her arms around him and draws him to her. He grows bolder, and slides his hand beneath her tunic. He hears the catch of her breath.