The Red Chamber (24 page)

He has to control his anger at this attempt to blame him for Baoyu’s shortcomings. “No. That occurred to me as well. I asked the schoolmaster specifically whether Baoyu’s performance started to suffer after the beating. He was out of school more than two weeks then. The teacher said that he remembered that Baoyu’s work when he came back was still good. The change came later, closer to the Twelfth Month.”

“Then what could it have been?”

“Nothing happened then? Nothing with Huan?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then I can’t think of anything either.” He pauses before saying hesitantly, “Only, there was that remark that Xichun made at New Year’s.”

“What do you mean?”

“She said Baoyu was moping because Daiyu had gone back to the south.”

Lady Jia is silent for a moment. Finally, she gives a little laugh and says, “He’ll forget her in a month. He never could have thought seriously about her.”

From her reaction, Jia Zheng realizes that what Xichun said was true: Baoyu was attached to Daiyu, and his mother knows it. “You think he did care for her?”

His mother shrugs. “You know what he’s like. He is always infatuated with someone or other.”

“It was my impression that it was usually a maid. This is the first time he’s been infatuated, as you call it, with someone he could actually be betrothed to.”

His mother stares at him incredulously. “You would actually consider betrothing him to her?”

“Why not, if he is so distressed by her departure that he can no longer study?” He pauses, trying to remember the reports from the schoolmaster over the last six months. “In fact, now that I think of it, he never made such good progress as this fall when she was here. That was why I thought that this year he would finally be ready to take the Exams.”

“It’s nonsense to think that how he does in school has anything to do with her. Such a match is entirely out of the question.”

He senses, as he has a few times before, that his mother for some reason holds Daiyu in dislike. “Why not?” He tries to reason with her. “It is not an ideal match, but it’s not a bad match by any means. Daiyu is a sensible, intelligent girl, and the Lins are a good family. In general, I don’t believe in first cousins marrying, but if his heart is really set on her—if he still cares for her in a year or two, after he has passed the Exams, I see no real objection to the match.”

“No objection to the match!” his mother cries. “She doesn’t have a penny, and the Lins have all but died out! What’s worse is her upbringing. Her manners are disgraceful.”

As he watches his mother’s brows draw together over her nose, it strikes him that her old anger at Min, far from dissipating at her death, has transferred itself to Min’s daughter. While it pains him that his mother’s resentment against Min is so implacable, he knows it is useless to argue, so he falls silent, willing to let the subject drop.

His mother takes up her soup again and begins to drink it noisily. “And besides, I believe that you are wrong about Baoyu.”

“What do you mean?” The anger on her face has been replaced by a look of shrewd calculation.

“I don’t think he cared particularly for Daiyu. Don’t you see his infatuation with her is a symptom of a larger problem?”

“What problem?”

“You treat him like a child, but he has been shaving for more than four years. You can’t expect him not to have natural appetites.” She casts him a significant look. “He is nineteen and has always been physically mature for his age. He is more than old enough to be betrothed.”

“I’ve told you my position on that before,” he retorts. “He can be betrothed after he passes the Exams, like Zhu was.”

“But he is already several years older than Zhu was. How long are you going to make him wait? You will just be bringing trouble on us if you do.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” He is disquieted by her insinuating expression.

“He isn’t a little boy anymore. You will have to deal with other incidents like that affair with Silver, and maybe even worse, if you keep denying him.”

“Denying him! How is it denying him to require him to concentrate on his studies until he passes the Exams?” he says, but his mother’s words have set spark to the fear that he has harbored since the Silver incident.
“I’ve always told you that it isn’t right for him to live in the Women’s Quarters. It gives people something to gossip about. And besides, how can we be sure that some silly maid won’t sleep with him and get pregnant? Then we’ll have a scandal on our hands.”

His mother gives a knowing laugh. “If he has a good-looking wife, why would he sneak around with maids?”

He winces a little at his mother’s crudity. “But if I let him marry, how will he be able to concentrate on his studies?”

“Why not betroth him, to give him something to look forward to? And then he can be married after he takes the Exams.” She laughs again. “I assure you, you’ll be surprised at what a powerful incentive it is!”

He hesitates. Every time his mother has brought up making a match for Baoyu, he has strenuously resisted. In the first place, he feared Baoyu was so easily distracted that the novelty of being married would make it impossible for him to concentrate. He worried also that Baoyu, moody and unpredictable, was incapable of treating a young wife with the forbearance and steadiness she might expect. He begins to feel that he is trying to put off the inevitable. He reminds himself that even Pan, who is less reliable than Baoyu, is now married. Pan’s example reminds him of the importance of finding a suitable match, which may take months or even years. “I suppose we can start to make some preliminary inquiries …” he begins slowly.

Lady Jia begins to laugh, as if he is being very foolish. “Why make inquiries when the answer is right in front of our noses?”

“What do you mean?”

She laughs merrily. “Didn’t your wife always joke with Mrs. Xue about Baoyu and Baochai marrying, when they were little?”

“Yes, but I hoped that nonsense would be forgotten.”

She opens her eyes at him. “Why is it nonsense?”

“In the first place, I disapprove of first cousins marrying.”

“You were willing to make an exception for Daiyu. Why not for Baochai when the match is so much better? Then there’s that saying about gold and jade being a perfect match.”

“What has that to do with anything?”

“You know, Baoyu has his jade, and Baochai has her gold locket.”

“I don’t have any patience for those sorts of superstitions,” he tells her. “I’ve always thought you made far too much of that jade.”

“It isn’t a superstition. It’s predestination. All I know is that I couldn’t
think of a better match for him,” his mother says. “Tell me, what fault can you find with Baochai? The Xues are extremely rich and influential. Baochai has been well brought up, and knows perfectly how to get along in a big household like ours. Of all the girls in the family, she has always been the most considerate and capable. I don’t know what you could possibly have against her.”

“I didn’t say I had anything against her.” The truth is he has no particular objection to her, only he has never grown the least fond of her over the years she has lived at Rongguo. She is too cold, too composed, for him to find her endearing, as he does his other nieces, Daiyu and Xichun. “But there are many other excellent families in the Capital. I don’t understand why you are so set on this match.”

“The one thing you might say against Baochai,” she continues, ignoring him, “is that her looks are only passable. Her hands and figure are all very well, but her face … On the other hand, it’s possible to be
too
attractive …”

“I don’t consider having a brother like Pan to be an advantage.”

“Well, I don’t think there’s any real harm in Pan. There’s always a scapegrace in every family.”

“Are you sure their temperaments are suitable?” Baochai and Baoyu strike him as polar opposites: Baoyu suffers from a surfeit of emotion, while she seems to have too little. “She seems so old for her age. Won’t she find Baoyu rather childish?”

“That’s all the more reason it is a good match. She is so level-headed and mature that she is sure to exercise a steadying influence on him.”

Nettled by the way that his mother keeps dismissing his objections, he falls back on his old habit of denigrating Baoyu. “Granted that all you say is true, I wonder why the Xues would want to throw away a fine girl like Baochai on a good-for-nothing like Baoyu.”

In an instant, his mother is up in arms. “That’s just like you. Always running down your own son! I don’t say that it isn’t a good match for Baoyu, but Baochai is a lucky girl, too, to get someone so handsome and talented. And in a year or two, he’ll have passed the Exams, maybe at the top of the lists.”

“Haven’t you forgotten the point? He hasn’t passed the Exams yet, and won’t even be taking them this year.”

“I haven’t forgotten. My point is that if we settle his future for him now, he will buckle down and pass the Exams next year. I’ll talk to Mrs. Xue about it, shall I?”

“What’s the rush?” he exclaims, still reluctant to commit to the match.

“What’s the rush?” his mother repeats indignantly. “You expect a girl like Baochai to be available forever? Now that Pan’s married, Mrs. Xue is sure to start to think about making a match for Baochai.”

He shakes his head distractedly. He is irritated at his mother’s obstinacy, yet he feels helpless to resist her. In the end, he does not much care whom Baoyu marries as long as the girl is well brought up and from a good family. If Baoyu was attached to Daiyu, he saw no reason not to let the two of them marry; but it is now clear to him that his mother would prevent this. He knows and trusts Baochai. Perhaps it is better to acquiesce to the match than to brave the unknown. “All right.” He sighs. “But promise me one thing in return.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t say a word about this to Baoyu yet.”

“Why not?”

He looks at his mother, struck by how little regard she has for Baoyu’s feelings. They have just been talking about how Baoyu is moping about Daiyu. Surely the news that he has been betrothed to someone else will pain the boy. By the time Baoyu actually marries Baochai, many months will have passed, and Jia Zheng hopes that he will have forgotten Daiyu by then. He knows that mentioning Daiyu again will only anger his mother, so he says, “I’m afraid he’ll find it harder to concentrate.”

She gives a scornful snort, but agrees.

9

The morning of the third day after Pan’s wedding, Mrs. Xue insists on paying a visit to the bridal couple.

“Are you sure we should go so soon?” Baochai says, climbing into the carriage after her mother. “Perhaps we should give them a little more time to themselves.” At the wedding feast, beneath Jingui’s surface politeness, Baochai had sensed a hostility towards herself and her mother.

“Time to themselves?” Mrs. Xue looks at her in surprise. Of course a bride ordinarily had no respite from her in-laws from the moment of her wedding. “I don’t want Jingui to feel slighted because we haven’t been welcoming enough to her. Besides, we need to take these cushion covers over.”

When the carriage pulls up to the address that Pan has given them, Baochai sees that the place looks to be a good-sized mansion, though by no means as big as Rongguo. She looks out the window, observing the carvings on the pillars, the freshly painted gates.

“It looks like it’s well kept up,” her mother says. “It’s in a good location, too, although it’s a bit noisier here than at Rongguo.”

Baochai hears the coachman’s voice raised in argument from outside. “What do you mean you need to check with your mistress before you let us in? Don’t you realize that it’s your master’s mother here coming to visit?”

“Our orders are not to admit anyone without Miss Xia’s permission,” she hears the gateman reply. It is strange that he still calls his mistress “Miss Xia” rather than “Mrs. Xue.”

“What badly trained servants,” Mrs. Xue says. “We’ll have to talk to Pan about them.”

“But they are the Xias’ servants. It will be awkward for us to criticize them.”

“You’re right, of course.”

To Baochai’s amazement, the carriage is forced to wait outside the gate for ten minutes. Despite their fur-lined jackets and muffs, they rapidly grow cold. Baochai can see that her mother is trying to control her annoyance.

When they are eventually admitted, they are led to the Inner Gate by a maid. Baochai sees that the courtyards and buildings are large and well laid out. Finally, they arrive at what seem to be the principal apartments of the Inner Quarters. The maid precedes them across the courtyard and announces them from outside the door curtain, but leaves them to enter by themselves.

They pass into a large room that despite the opulence of its furnishings gives the impression of messiness: there are tea things and articles of clothing scattered across the
kang
. Both Pan and Jingui are still undressed: Pan in a tunic and loose trousers, Jingui in a tight, low-necked jacket that reveals the white expanse of her breast. Below her flowing, pomegranate-red trousers, her feet are bare. She leans against a backrest eating with her fingers. There is a kettle of wine heating on a brazier.

Pan scrambles off the
kang
to greet them. “Mother! Baochai! We were planning on going to visit you ourselves this morning, only Jingui is a little tired.” Baochai catches the scent of wine on his breath.

Jingui does not rise from her place, continuing to chew on the morsel she has just popped in her mouth. Her long, slender fingers are greasy, and she wipes them on a napkin before taking a sip of wine. She is eating what appear to be crisp-fried chicken bones.

Baochai sees that her mother is taken aback by Jingui’s failure to greet her properly, but all Mrs. Xue says is, “It’s no wonder you are tired after your long journey. We came to see if there was anything you needed. Also, we just finished making these cushion covers this morning.”

“Actually,” Jingui speaks up, “the quilt you gave us wasn’t very comfortable.”

Baochai senses Jingui looking covertly at her. Jingui must know that Baochai had made the quilt. She began it almost as soon as the betrothal had been arranged, staying up late to complete the elaborate embroidery. She forces herself to smile. “I’m sorry you don’t like it.”