The Golden Lotus, Volume 1 Read online

  CHAPTER 1

  The Brotherhood of Rascals

  IN the mighty dynasty of Song, when Huizong was Emperor, and in the Zhenghe period of his reign [1111–1119], there lived at Qinghe, a city of the prefecture of Dongping in Shandong, a dissolute young man whose name was Ximen Qing. He was about twenty-seven years old, and the master of a fine estate. A gay, good-looking fellow, he was, unfortunately, flighty and unstable. His father, Ximen Da, had once traveled through Sichuan and Guangdong dealing in raw medicines, and later he opened a shop near the Town Hall of Qinghe. He lived in a splendid house that had a frontage of five rooms upon the street, and wings that went back even farther. He had a host of servants, and a very considerable number of horses and mules. Though, perhaps, he was not quite a millionaire, he was certainly one of the richest men in the whole district.

  Ximen Da and his wife showered affection upon their only child, and allowed him to do exactly as he pleased. While he was still comparatively young, they died. The boy paid scant attention to his studies, idled about, and finally gave himself up entirely to dissipation. Indeed, after his parents’ death, he was seldom to be found at home, but spent all his time in the pursuit of forbidden pleasures. He learned to box, to wield the quarterstaff, and to play a good game of chess. He gambled a great deal, and became so skilled in the game of pai that he could distinguish the different pieces by simply touching them. In fact, so far as such accomplishments were concerned, there was very little he did not know.

  His friends and acquaintances were wastrels and spongers who spent all their lives in amusing themselves at other people’s expense. The chief among them was Ying Bojue, the son of a silk merchant. He had squandered the wealth his father had left him, and had sunk so low that he spent all his time waiting about the Town Hall, ready to go with anyone to the bawdy house, or to dine with the first-comer who would pay for a meal. People nicknamed him Beggar Ying. He was an expert at kickball, backgammon, chess and all sorts of other games.

  Then there was Xie Xida. This man’s grandfather had been a minor official at Qinghe, and his parents had died while he was still a youth. He wasted his time, and paid no attention to his duties, so he lost his position, and now led a life of leisure. He played the lute.

  These two and Ximen Qing were as thick as thieves, and there were several more, of varying degrees of disreputability. One was Zhu Shinian; another Sun Tianhua, also known as Greedy Chops. Then there was Wu Dian’en, who had once been Master of the Yin Yang for the district. He had been dismissed, and now was always to be found hanging about the Town Hall in the hope of finding a job as witness for the officials in their money-lending transactions. In this way he made the acquaintance of Ximen Qing.

  Other friends were Yun Lishou, a younger brother of Colonel Yun; Chang Zhijie; Bu Zhidao; and Bai Laiguang, who was also known as Guangtang. When people remarked that this was a strange name, he would become very indignant and enter upon a long explanation, which, by reference to the Book of History, was supposed to show that his tutor, when he had conferred that name upon him, had made an admirable choice. “If there had been anything objectionable about it,” he used to say, “I should have changed it long ago, but, obviously, it has important historical associations, and I shall most certainly retain it.”

  There were, perhaps, ten of them in all, and, when they discovered that Ximen Qing was not only a very rich man, but ready to throw his money about, they led him on to gamble, drink and run after women.

  The House of Ximen had fallen upon evil days. It had given to the world an unworthy son, who chose his friends from among those destitute of every virtue. It was inevitably doomed to impoverishment.

  Ximen Qing was reckless, but when he took it into his head to bestir himself, he was capable of showing that he was no fool. He lent money to the officials and even had dealings with the four corrupt ministers, Gao, Yang, Tong and Cai. So he came to be mixed up in all kinds of official matters, acting as intervener for people at law, arbitrating in cases of dispute, and, sometimes, acting as stakeholder. The people of Qinghe stood in awe of him and spoke of him as “His Lordship Ximen.” His first wife, a Miss Chen, died young, leaving him with a little daughter, and this daughter was now betrothed to Chen Jingji, a relative of Marshal Yang, the Commander of the Imperial Guard at the Eastern Capital.

  After the death of his wife, Ximen found himself without a housekeeper, and married the daughter of a certain Captain Wu. This lady was about twenty-five years old. As she was born on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, her parents called her Yueniang [“Moon Lady”], and she was still known by that name after her marriage to Ximen Qing. She was gentle and quiet, a good wife, and faultlessly obedient to her husband. She had three or four maids and serving women to wait upon her, and Ximen Qing had taken his pleasure with all of them.

  As a second wife, he married a girl from the bawdy house, called Li Jiao’er, and as his third, a young woman from South Street, who had been his mistress. She was not very strong, and suffered from so many different illnesses that Ximen Qing again went off to “fly with the wind and sport with the moon!”

  One day, when Ximen Qing was at home with nothing to do, he said to his wife:

  “It is the twenty-fifth day of the ninth month, and on the third of next month, I am supposed to be meeting my friends. I think I will entertain them here, and engage a couple of singing girls, so that we can have our amusement at home without needing to go elsewhere. Will you make the necessary arrangements?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t mention those horrible creatures to me,” Wu Yueniang said. “There isn’t a decent fellow among them. Day after day, they come here, like messengers of Hell, putting ideas into your silly mind and making an absolute fool of you. Never, since you’ve known them, have you spent a whole day in your own house. The Third Lady is anything but well, and I think you might give up these drinking parties, for a while at least.”

  “Generally,” Ximen Qing said, “I find your conversation delightful, but today your remarks are a little wearying. To hear you talk, all my friends might be beyond the pale. I don’t mind so much what you say about the others, but surely Brother Ying is an honest, entertaining fellow. If we ask him to do anything for us, he never raises any objection, and what he does, he does well. Then Xie Xida is clever as well as conscientious. But there is this much to be said. So long as our meetings are irregular and uncertain, we can never develop our friendship on the proper lines. The next time we all come together, the best thing we can do will be to form a brotherhood, and ever afterwards we shall be able to count upon receiving assistance, if we need any.”

  “I have nothing against this brotherhood idea,” Yueniang said, “though I have no doubt whatever that the others will get more assistance out of you than you are ever likely to get out of them. They will be as much use to you as dancing dolls, and not half so lively.”

  Ximen Qing laughed. “If I find, by experience, that they are to be trusted, why shouldn’t I trust them? As a matter of fact, I’m expecting Brother Ying any moment. When he comes, I’ll see what he thinks of the idea.”

  At that moment an intelligent-looking boy with delicate eyebrows and charming eyes came in. This was Daian, Ximen Qing’s body servant. “Uncle Ying and Uncle Xie are outside,” he said. “They would like to speak to you.”

  “I was just talking about them,” Ximen said. He hastened to the hall. Ying Bojue was dressed in a new black hat and a shabby blue silk gown. He was sitting in the place of honor with Xie Xida opposite. When Ximen Qing came in, they both jumped up and saluted him with great deference. “We are glad to find you at home, Brother,” they said. “We have not seen you for some time.” Ximen asked them to sit down, and called for tea.

  “You are a nice pair,” he told them. “I have had a very anxious time lately. I could not leave the house, but I haven’t seen even so much as your shadows.”

  “What did I say?” Bojue cried. “I knew our brother would be annoyed!” Then he turned to Xim
en Qing. “I am not surprised that you are angry with us, but, really, I have been so busy that I haven’t known what to do. It is all very well for you to give your orders, but it is not so easy for me to carry them out.”

  “Where have you been, these last few days?” Ximen asked them. “Yesterday, I went to the Li’s to see a young lady called Li Guijie. She is Li Guiqing’s younger sister, a niece of your Second Lady. I hadn’t seen her for some time, and I must say she has become a very pretty girl. There’s no telling what she will be like in the future. Her mother urged me to find a handsome young man to make a woman of her. Really, you yourself would not find her too bad.”

  “If she is so attractive,” Ximen said, “I must go and have a look at her.” “Brother,” said Xie Xida, “if you don’t trust him, you can at least take my word for it.”

  “Well,” said Ximen, “that accounts for yesterday, but what about the day before?”

  “A little time ago, our friend Bu Zhidao died, and I have had to spend several days at his house in connection with the funeral arrangements. His wife asked me to tell you how grateful she is for the incense and things you sent her. Her place is so small and the only entertainment she can offer so unworthy, that she did not venture to invite you to the funeral.”

  “Alas!” Ximen Qing said, “it seems only a few days since I first heard he was ill. I never thought he would die so soon. He once made me a present of a gilded fan, and I was thinking of giving him something in return. Then I heard of his death.”

  Xie Xida sighed. “Once there were ten of us, now one has gone. By the way, the third of next month is the day for our meeting. We shall be troubling His Lordship to spend some small sum on the day’s amusement.”

  “I have just been telling my wife,” Ximen said, “that these meetings, at which we do nothing but eat and drink, do not represent the essential element in our friendship. We ought to decide upon some temple, have an appropriate document drawn up, and band ourselves into a definite brotherhood. Then we shall be pledged to help one another ever afterwards. When the day comes, I will buy the three offerings needed for the sacrifice. I presume you will all be ready to give something towards the expenses, each according to his means. I do not insist on this, but it seems to me that, since we are forming a brotherhood, it will be much more satisfactory if every brother makes some little contribution.”

  “Certainly, Brother,” Ying Bojue said hastily. “A man who never says his own prayers cannot expect to get credit for the incense his wife burns. We must all do something to show that we are in earnest, but I’m afraid we’re rather like the warts on a rat’s tail, there is not much to be got out of us.”

  “Oh, you funny dog,” Ximen said, laughing. “Nobody expects you to give very much.”

  “If the brotherhood is to be complete,” Xie Xida said, “there should be ten of us. Brother Bu Zhidao is dead. Whom can we find to take his place?”

  Ximen Qing thought for a while. Then he said: “My neighbor, Brother Hua, the nephew of Eunuch Hua, is the very man. He spends his money without stint, and goes regularly to the bawdy house. He lives next door, and we are very good friends. I will send a boy to invite him to join us.”

  Bojue clapped his hands. “Do you mean Hua Zixu, who keeps a girl called Wu Yin’er?”

  “That is the man,” Ximen Qing said.

  “Ask him by all means,” Bojue said. “If I can only make friends with him, it will mean another house of call for me.”

  “You silly rascal,” Ximen said, laughing. “To hear you talk about eating, one would imagine you were always on the point of starvation.”

  They all laughed. After a while, Ximen called Daian, and sent him to Hua’s house. “Tell him that we are going to form a brotherhood on the third of next month, and that I shall be honored if he will join us. When you have heard what he says, come back and tell me.”

  “Shall we come here, or go to a temple?” Bojue asked.

  “There are only two temples to go to,” Xie Xida said. “One is the Buddhist temple of Eternal Felicity, and the other, the Daoist temple of the Jade Emperor. Either of them would do.”

  “Not at all,” Ximen said. “This forming of a brotherhood is not a Buddhist practice, and, in any case, I don’t know the priests of that temple very well. We must go to the Temple of the Jade Emperor. The abbot, Wu, is a good friend of mine; it is quiet there and we shall have room enough.”

  “You are right, Brother,” Bojue said. “He only suggested the temple of Eternal Felicity because the monks there are on such good terms with his wife.”

  “You old villain,” Xie Xida said, laughing. “Here we are, discussing a most serious matter, and you think it a suitable occasion to fart.”

  They were laughing and talking when Daian came back. “Master Hua was not at home,” he said, “but I gave the message to his lady. She was very pleased. ‘If Uncle Ximen is so kind as to invite my husband,’ she said, ‘I am sure he will not fail to come. He shall have the message as soon as he comes in, and when the day for the meeting comes, I will remind him.’ She gave me two cakes for myself, and told me to give you her respects.”

  “Brother Hua’s wife,” Ximen said, “is not only a very pretty woman, but she has intelligence.”

  They drank another cup of tea, and the two men rose to go. “We will tell the other brothers,” they said, “and collect their share of the expenses. Will you make the arrangements with Abbot Wu?”

  “Yes,” Ximen Qing said, “I’ll see to that. Don’t let me keep you any longer.” He took them to the gate. Before they had gone very far, Ying Bojue turned. “Don’t you think it would be fun if we had some singing girls?”

  “Yes, indeed,” Ximen said, “it will be more amusing if the brothers have someone to laugh and joke with.” Bojue made a reverence and went away with Xie Xida.

  It was soon the first day of the tenth month. Ximen Qing rose early and was sitting in Yueniang’s room when there came a serving boy whose hair had been dressed in grown-up style. He brought with him a gilded and polished card case. First he made a reverence to Ximen Qing; then he came forward and said: “My master, Hua Zixu, sends his compliments. Some time ago you sent your servant with an invitation, but he was out on business and did not personally receive the message. He was told that you are arranging a party on the third of the month, and has sent this small gift, which he trusts you will use as you think fit. Afterwards he hopes you will tell him what his proper share of the expenses amounts to, and he will make up what is lacking.”

  Ximen Qing took the packet, examined the label upon it, and wrote a receipt for one tael of silver. “This is more than enough,” he said; “your master must certainly not send any more. Remind him to keep the day free. He will have to get up very early so as to be ready to go to the temple with the rest of us.”

  When the boy was going away, Yueniang asked him to wait a moment. She told Yuxiao, the elder of her two maids, to give him two pieces of fruit-cake. “This is instead of tea,” she said to him. “When you get home, give my kind regards to your mistress, and tell her that one of these days I am going to ask her to come and have a talk with me.” The boy took the cakes, made another reverence, and went out.

  A few moments later, Ying Bao, Ying Bojue’s boy, came. He, too, was carrying a visiting case. Daian introduced him. “My father has collected these presents from the others,” he said, “and hopes you will accept them.” Ximen Qing looked at the packets, saw that there were eight in all, and handed them to his wife without opening them. “Use them,” he said to her, “to buy something for our visit to the temple.” He dismissed Ying Bao.

  Soon afterwards he got up and went to see his third wife, who was ill, but he had only just reached her room and sat down when Yuxiao came to tell him that her mistress would like to speak to him again. “Why didn’t she say all she had to say before?” Ximen Qing said. He got up and went back to her, finding her with all the packets opened and spread out before her.

  “Look here!�
�� she said, laughing. “Ying sends a qian and two fen of bad silver, and the rest, three or five fen apiece. Judging by the color, some red, some yellow, it might be gold. Certainly, I’ve never seen anything like it in this house before. If you accept it, our reputation will be gone forever. You must send it back at once.”

  “What a fuss about nothing!” Ximen said. “This is all right. Don’t let me hear any more about it.” He went out.

  The next day, he weighed four taels of silver and told his servant Laixing to buy a pig, a sheep, five or six jars of Jinhua wine, some chickens and ducks, candles and paper offerings. He put five qian in an envelope and told his man Laibao to take it and the other things, and go with Daian and Laixing to the temple of the Jade Emperor. They were to say to the abbot: “Tomorrow, our master proposes to form a solemn brotherhood, and he takes the liberty of asking you to compose an address suitable to the occasion. He would like to take dinner at your temple in the evening, and would be very grateful if you would make the necessary preparations. He will arrive in the morning.”

  Daian soon returned. He said that he had given the message, and that the abbot agreed.

  The day soon passed. The next morning, Ximen Qing washed and dressed, and told Daian to go and ask Hua Zixu to come for breakfast before they joined the others on the expedition to the temple. Soon afterwards, Ying Bojue and the others arrived. They came in, and forming a circle, made reverence together.