Winter ends, but not the sorrows.

Spring returns, but not the traveler.

Lamenting her loneliness as the day dawns,

She refuses to try on her New Year’s clothes.

1

Jiang Xingge Reencounters His Pearl Shirt

The above lyric poem to the tune of “The Moon over the West River” advises all to take life as it comes, to find delight in whatever lies in your lot, and not to let “drink,” “lust,” “wealth,” and “wrath” consume your energies and compromise your integrity. Joy may turn out to be sorrow, and a gain may turn out to be a loss. But of the four vices cited above, “lust” is by far the most ruinous. The eyes are the go-between of love; the heart is the seed of desire. At the beginning, you will su er from pangs of longing. By the end, your soul will take leave of your body. An occasional a air on the spur of the moment with some “wayside flower and willow” brings little harm, but never hatch deliberate plans against all sense of decency to seek some momentary gratification at the expense of the long-standing marriage of others. How would you feel if your own dear wife or beloved concubine were to fall a victim to another man’s seduction? There is an ancient quatrain that puts it well:

Dear audience, now hear me tell the story of “The Pearl Shirt” as an illustration of the never-failing retribution of heaven to serve as a lesson for all young men.

The story is about a man named Jiang De, also known as Jiang Xingge, a native of Zaoyang County in Xiangyang Prefecture, Huguang Province.¹ His father, Jiang Shize, was a merchant who began traveling extensively in Guangdong at an early age. Shize’s wife Luo-shi, now deceased, had left him with an only child, Xingge, who was nine years old at the time of her death. Jiang Shize could not bear the thought of parting with the child, yet neither could he a ord to give up his Guangdong business as a means of livelihood. After giving much thought to the matter, he found no alternative but to take the nine-year-old along as a travel companion and teach the boy some worldly wisdom. Young as the boy was, he had

Wary of stirring up envious feelings, Jiang Shize presented the boy, throughout their journeys, not as his son but as Young Master Luo, his wife’s nephew. As a matter of fact, the Luo family was also engaged in business in the Guangdong region. Whereas the Jiang family had been in the Guangdong business for one generation only, the Luo family had been in it for three. The innkeepers and brokers there knew all three generations of the Luos and treated them as their own kith and kin. Indeed, it was through the initiation of his father-in-law, Mr. Luo, that Jiang Shize had first become a traveling merchant. However, due to straitened circumstances that resulted from a succession of unjust lawsuits against them, the Luos had not visited the area in the last several years. The innkeepers and brokers missed them so much that at the sight of Jiang Shize, everyone asked after the Luo family. When learning upon inquiry that the boy with him, with refined looks and a ready tongue, was from the Luo family, all rejoiced, for their friendship with the last three generations of the Luo family was now continuing into the fourth.

Not to encumber our story with unnecessary chatter, let us speak of Jiang Xingge, who, after traveling a few times with his father, learned, to his father’s immense delight, to handle all business matters with adroitness and competence. It turned out, in a way no one would have expected, that when he was seventeen years old, his father died of a sudden illness. Luckily, he died at home instead of ending up a ghost on the road. After shedding some bitter tears, Xingge could not help but wipe his eyes dry and set about making arrangements for the funeral. Apart from the mortuary rites, he also had Buddhist prayers chanted to ensure that his father’s spirit be spared the torments of hell, but that needs no more description here.

During the forty-nine days of mourning, all kith and kin on both sides of the family came to o er their condolences. A Mr. Wang of the same county, father of Xingge’s newly betrothed fiancée, was among the visitors. Naturally, members of the Jiang clan engaged him in conversation as a courtesy. As the conversation turned to how mature Xingge was for his age in so ably handling such important matters all by himself, someone urged him, “Kinsman Wang, now that your daughter has come of age, why don’t you marry them to o set the sadness of the occasion? Life will be easier for the couple when they have each other for company.” That day Mr. Wang left without giving his consent.

After the burial rites were over, the relatives tried the proposition on Xingge. The young man also refused at first, but, after much persuasion, considerations about his lonely status prompted him to give in. The original matchmaker was sent to speak to the Wang family, but Mr. Wang declined, saying, “Our family needs to prepare a modest dowry, and it’s not something to be had at a moment’s notice. Moreover, to hold a wedding before the year of mourning is over would be against the rules of propriety. If there is to be a wedding, we’d better wait until after the first anniversary of the death.” When the matchmaker brought back this reply, Xingge did not press the point, for he knew Mr. Wang to be right.

Time sped by like an arrow. Before they realized it, the anniversary was upon them. After o ering oblations to his father’s spirit tablet and taking o his garments of mourning made of coarse hemp, Xingge again asked the matchmaker to speak to the Wang family. This time, the proposal was accepted. Within several days, the six preliminaries² were completed, and the bride was brought over the threshold, as is attested by the following lyric poem to the tune of “The Moon over the West River”:

The bride was Mr. Wang’s youngest daughter, nicknamed Number Three. Because she was born on the seventh day of the seventh month, she was also known as Sanqiao.⁴ The two older married daughters of the family were also of remarkable beauty. Within the county of Zaoyang there circulated a fourline song that voiced the admiration for the Wang girls held by all and sundry:

As the proverb says, “Failure to make a business deal is a matter of the moment; failure to marry the right wife is a woe of a lifetime.” In selecting daughters-in-law, some families of distinction seek only a matching family background or rich dowry and arrange the betrothal with never a thought about other considerations. Later, when the grotesquely ugly bride is brought into the family and called upon to greet the members of the clan, imagine what poor figures the parents-in-law cut! Moreover, the discontented husband can hardly resist the temptation of illicit a airs. Yet, it so happens that ugly wives are best at bossing their husbands. If the husband reacts in the same way, he invites marital strife, but if he yields to her a couple of times out of face-saving considerations, she starts to put on airs. It was to avoid such unpleasant situations that Jiang Shize, upon learning that Mr. Wang was prone to producing beautiful daughters, had sent over betrothal gifts early on to commit Mr. Wang’s youngest girl to his son, both of whom were then at a tender age. Now that Sanqiao had crossed the threshold of the Jiang house, she was perceived to be as full of grace and charm as expected. In fact, she was twice as beautiful as her two older sisters. Truly,

The handsome Jiang Xingge and his newly wedded beautiful wife were like a pair of exquisite jade statues from the hands of a master sculptor, and ten times more loving than the average married couple. After the third day, Xingge changed back into clothes of lighter colors and, declining all dealings with the outside world on the pretext of being still in mourning, stayed upstairs with his wife, enjoying every moment of the days and nights that went by. Indeed, they were never apart, whether in motion or at rest; even in their dreams they kept each other company. It has always been said that hard days pass slowly, whereas happy moments flit by all too quickly. With the passage of summers and winters, the mourning period came to an end. The spirit tablet for the deceased was removed, and the mourning clothes were taken o , but of this, we shall speak no further.

One day, it occurred to Xingge that his father’s Guangdong business had been unattended to for over three years. Revenues from many accounts remained uncollected. In the evening, he said to his wife that he wished to make a trip there. At first, she agreed that he should go, but later, as she learned the distance of the journey, tears fell involuntarily from her eyes, for how could such a loving couple bear to part with each other? Nor did Xingge feel ready to leave her. After some sad laments, the matter was dropped. This happened more than once. (Good description.)

Time went by. Before they noticed it, another two years had elapsed. Xingge made up his mind to go. He did his packing away from home, without his wife’s knowledge. It was not until five days before the auspicious day chosen for his departure that he said to her, “As the proverb says, ‘He who sits idle will eat away a mountain of a fortune.’ If the two of us are to start a family and build a career, we can’t very well a ord to give up this source of income, can we? It being now the second month of the year, with the weather neither cold nor hot, what better time than this to start on the road?”

Realizing that she would not be able to keep him home any longer, she asked only, “When are you coming back?”

Xingge replied, “I have no other choice but to take this trip, but I’ll be back in one year’s time no matter what. I’ll just stay longer the second time around, if that’s what it takes.”

Pointing at the toon tree in front of the house, she said, “Next year when this tree begins budding, I’ll be expecting you back.” With these words, tears fell like rain from her eyes. As he wiped away her tears with his sleeves, Xingge felt tears on his own cheeks as well. A few words hardly suffice for an adequate description of their grief at parting and their deep a ection for each other.

Five days later, the night before the scheduled departure, the couple sobbingly talked the whole night through, with no wish to go to sleep. At the fifth watch, Xingge rose to get ready for the journey. He handed over to his wife all his inherited pearls and other valuables, taking along for himself only enough silver to serve as business capital, the original copies of the account books, some clothes, and bedding. Gifts to be o ered to business associates had also been packed in good order. Of the two male servants, the younger one was to follow him. The older and more mature one was to stay behind to serve the mistress, run errands, and attend to the daily needs of the household, whereas two waiting women were charged with kitchen duties. There were also two maids, one called Clear Cloud, the other Warm Snow, whose job it was to serve the mistress in her private chamber, with orders not to wander too far away. Having thus assigned all the duties to the servants, Xingge turned to his wife: “Pass your time in patience. There is no lack of frivolous young men in the neighborhood. Being as pretty as you are, you’d better not look out the front door, so as not to attract undue attention.” (These words will turn out to be prophetic.)

“Don’t worry. Go quickly now and come back early.”

They took a tearful leave of each other. Truly,

For whole days on the road, all of Xingge’s thoughts were with his wife, to the exclusion of everything else. Some time later, he arrived in Guangdong and found lodgings in an inn. Old acquaintances came to greet him, and he, in his turn, o ered them gifts and went from household to household, enjoying their hospitality in his honor. Thus, he had not a moment of rest for fifteen to twenty days in a row. He had already depleted his energy at home. The tribulations of the journey plus the now-excessive wining and dining brought on an attack of malaria, which lasted throughout the summer and turned to dysentery with the onset of autumn. With a physician checking his pulse and administering medicine every day, he finally recovered toward the end of autumn. In the meantime, his business was left unattended. It looked like he would not be able to return home in one year’s time. Truly,

Homesick though he was, with the passage of time, he felt he might as well put aside such thoughts.

We shall leave Xingge to his travels and return to his wife, Sanqiao, who, just as her husband instructed on the day of his departure, did not look out the window or take a step down the stairs for quite a few months. Time sped by like an arrow. All too soon, the year was drawing to a close. Every household noisily lit bonfires of pine branches in the courtyard, set o firecrackers, and gathered together merrily for family feasts and games. The sight of such festivities made Sanqiao miss her husband even more. What a miserable night it was! Just as an ancient quatrain put it,

The following day was the first day of the first month of the year. In the morning, Clear Cloud and Warm Snow did all they could to urge their mistress to go to the front of the house to watch the goings-on in the street. As a matter of fact, the Jiang residence consisted of two interconnected wings that ran parallel to each other. The bedchamber was in the back wing behind the one that looked out onto the street. As a rule, Sanqiao used only the back wing. That day, unable to resist the maids’ urging, she went to the front wing through a passageway. With the windows pushed open and the curtains let down, the three of them looked out from behind the curtains. That day, the street was a scene of hustle and bustle. Sanqiao remarked, “Of all these people coming and going, why isn’t there a fortune-teller? If there is one, I’ll be glad to have him come here so I can ask him for news about my husband.”

Clear Cloud said, “New Year’s Day is for everybody to relax and have fun. Who would want to be out telling fortunes?”

Warm Snow said loudly, “Ma’am, just leave it to the two of us. Within five days, we’ll surely get you one.”

After breakfast on the fourth day of the month, Warm Snow was downstairs relieving herself when she heard a clanging sound in the street. It came from the device called “announcer” that blind fortune-tellers use to attract attention. Before she was through with what she was doing, she hastily pulled up her pants, ran out the door, and stopped the blind man. She then turned around and ran up the stairs in one breath to report to her mistress. Sanqiao instructed her to have him sit and wait in the reception hall downstairs. Having flipped a coin and said her prayers, Sanqiao descended the stairs to listen to what he had to say. The blind man picked a trigram and asked what the divination was for. The two kitchen maids who came over at the commotion answered for the mistress, “It’s to ask about a traveler on the road.”

“Is it a wife wishing to ask about her husband?” the fortune-teller demanded to know.

“Exactly,” said the maids.

And this was what the fortune-teller said: “With the green dragon in a reigning position, the wealth star is set in motion. If this is a case of a wife inquiring about her husband, the traveler is on his way home, laden with a thousand cases of treasure, and safe from the slightest hint of a storm. (Fortune-tellers can be quite misleading.) The green dragon being of the wood phase of the five phases and spring being the thriving season for wood, the traveler started on his way back around the time of the spring equinox and will surely be at home by the end of this month or the beginning of the next, bringing much wealth with him.”

Sanqiao had the male servant give the fortune-teller three tenths of a mace of silver,⁸ and, having thus sent the man on his way, she merrily went up to her room. As the proverbs go, she was “slaking thirst by looking at plums” and “allaying hunger by drawing cakes.”

In most situations, if you don’t get your hopes up too high, your peace of mind is not likely to be disturbed. Once you do, you indulge in wishful thinking that makes every moment of your life miserable. Believing the fortune-teller’s words, Sanqiao had no other thoughts but of her husband’s return. From then on, she often went to the front wing of the house and peered out onto the street from behind the curtains. The days went by, and there still was no sign of his return when the toon tree began budding at the beginning of the second month, reminding her of her husband’s promise. All the more anxious, she looked out the window several times a day. Then, as if something was destined to happen, her eyes came to rest upon a handsome young man. Truly,

Who might this handsome young man be? He was not a local resident but a native of Xin’an [New Peace] County in Huizhou. Chen Shang by name, he was also known familiarly as Daxige [Big Happy Brother], which was later changed to Dalang [Big Fellow]. At twenty-four years of age, he was a strikingly handsome young man, not any less so than Song Yu⁹ and Pan An.¹⁰ As was the case with Jiang Xingge, Dalang had also lost both parents. Having scraped together two to three thousand taels in cash as capital, he had gone into the rice and bean business, making yearly trips to Xiangyang to ply his trade. He stayed outside the city, but that day he happened to be in town to check at Squire Wang’s pawnshop on Great Market Street for letters from home. The pawnshop being right opposite the Jiang residence, his steps took him past Sanqiao’s window. How, you may ask, was he dressed? He was wearing, just as Jiang Xingge usually did, a Suzhou-style bell-shaped hat made of coir and a Huzhou silk robe of a fish-belly-white shade. Looking from afar, Sanqiao mistook him for her husband. She lifted the curtains and fixed her eyes upon him. When Chen Dalang raised his head and saw a beautiful young woman gazing at him from an upper window, he thought the woman had taken a fancy to him, and he also threw a significant glance at her. But in fact, it was a misunderstanding on both sides. Realizing that the man was not her husband, Sanqiao flushed crimson with embarrassment. Hastily closing the window, she ran to the back wing of the house and sank down on the edge of her bed, her heart pounding violently. (Just like that debauched woman¹¹ when she first started out.) In the meantime, Chen Dalang’s soul had been snatched away by her gaze.

After he returned to his lodgings, his mind was still with the woman. He thought to himself, “My wife at home is not unattractive, but she’s not nearly half as pretty as that woman. (A foreshadowing.) How I wish I could have some way to approach her! If I could just spend one night with her, I would not have lived in vain, even if it cost me all of my business capital.” After a few sighs, he suddenly remembered that he had done some business with a Granny Xue, vendor of pearls, who lived on East Lane o Great Market Street. With a gift of the gab and a propensity for dropping by people’s houses from street to street, she should know everyone in town and, if consulted, would surely come up with a good suggestion.

He tossed and turned all through that wakeful night to rise at the first light of dawn. Saying he had business to attend to, he asked for some cold water, washed and combed, and went to town posthaste, carrying with him a hundred taels of silver and two large ingots of gold. This is indeed a case of

Once in town, Chen Dalang headed straight for East Lane o Great Market Street and knocked at Granny Xue’s door. Her hair disheveled, Granny Xue was sorting out her pearls in the courtyard when she heard the knocking. While putting away her bags of pearls, she asked, “Who is it?” At the first few words of reply announcing that he was Mr. Chen of Huizhou, she hastened to open the door and invite him in, saying, “I haven’t done my toilette yet, so I won’t stand on ceremony with you. How early you are! Might I ask what brought you here?”

“I’m here specially to see you. I was afraid I might not find you at home if I came later.”

“Are you here to buy jewelry from me?”

“Yes, but apart from buying pearls, I also have a big job for you.”

“But I know little about things other than my own line.”

“Can we talk here?” asked Chen Dalang, whereupon Granny Xue closed the door and took him into a small room.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

Seeing no one around, Dalang drew out some silver from his sleeve, untied the cloth parcel, laid the contents on the table, and said, “I’ll tell you, Godmother, only if you accept them.” Not knowing what he had come for, she stoutly refused to take the hundred taels of silver.

“Maybe that’s not enough?” asked Dalang. He quickly added two ingots of shining gold to the silver on the table, saying, “Please also accept these ten taels of gold. If you still refuse, I’ll take that to mean you are turning me down. It is I who am asking a favor from you, and not the other way around. I have come to you because no one but you can pull o this big job. Even if it can’t be done, the gold and silver will still be yours to keep. I won’t ever come to claim them back. Who knows if we won’t meet again later in life? I, Chen Shang, am not a petty sort!”

Dear audience, is there any procuress who does not covet money? How could the sight of so much gold and silver have failed to stir her greed? At that moment, her face breaking into a wide smile, Granny Xue said, “Please don’t get me wrong. I have never, in my whole life, taken any money, not even a fraction of a penny, from any source that was not well accounted for. However, I shall respect your wish and keep the money for the time being. If I cannot be of service, I will return everything to you.” So saying, she put the ingots of gold into the parcel of silver, wrapped them up together, and, exclaiming, “If I may be so bold,” she excused herself and put the parcel away in her bedchamber. In a trice, she reemerged to say, “Sir, I won’t presume to thank you yet, but you must tell me what this big job is that you have for me.”

“I desperately need a treasure with life-saving magic powers. It’s nowhere to be found except in one particular household on Great Market Street. Please, Godmother, do me the favor of going there to borrow it for me.” (A godmother doubling as a life-saving go-between.)

The woman burst into laughter. “What a funny thing you said!” she exclaimed. “I have been living here in this alley for over twenty years without ever hearing anything about any life-saving magic thing. Tell me, which household is it?”

“The two-story house opposite my fellow townsman Squire Wang’s pawnshop. Who lives there?”

After a moment of reflection, the woman said, “That’s the house of Jiang Xingge of this town. He’s been traveling away from home for over a year now. There’s only his wife in the house.”

Dalang said, “It’s precisely from her that I would like to borrow the life-saving magic thing.” He pulled his chair up closer to the woman and poured out his secret to her. Barely had he finished than the woman shook her head and said, “This can hardly be done! Jiang Xingge has had this wife for less than four years, and the couple have been as inseparable as fish and water. Now that the man’s had to go away, the young lady never even takes a step down the stairs—so chaste is she! Because Xingge is of a somewhat unpredictable nature and easily finds fault with people (He is certainly not to blame for doing so), I have never seen the inside of his house. I don’t even have any idea what the young woman looks like. This job is beyond me. What you gave me is not destined for me to enjoy, after all.”

At these words, Chen Dalang fell to his knees. When the woman tried to raise him, he grabbed her by her sleeves and held her so firmly on the chair that she could not budge. He said, “My life is in your hands, Godmother. To save my life, you’ve got to think of some ingenious way for me to get to know her. If you pull this o , I’ll reward you with another hundred taels of silver. If you decline, I’ll have to kill myself right now.”

The woman was so alarmed that, at a loss what to do, she relented, saying, “All right! All right! Don’t put me on such a spot. Please get up and listen to me.”

Only then did Chen Dalang rise to his feet. With folded hands, he said, “Please tell me what good plans you have in mind.”

“You’ll have to give me some time,” said she. “If you want it to work out, don’t set a time limit. I can’t possibly do it for you if you give me a deadline.”

Chen Dalang said, “As long as it’ll work out, I don’t mind waiting a few days. But what do you propose to do?”

“Tomorrow, meet me in Squire Wang’s pawnshop after breakfast, not too early or too late. Bring a lot of cash and just say that you have a business deal to make with me. That’ll be part of my plan, you see. If I can manage to cross the threshold of the Jiang house (Of first importance), you’ll be in luck. You should then quickly go back to your lodgings. Don’t loiter around that house, for if your intentions are seen through, that’ll be the end of it all. When I see a chance, I’ll come back to let you know.”

“I’ll do whatever you say.” With a deep bow, he happily opened the door and went on his way. Truly,

Of the events of the rest of the day, there is no more to tell. On the following day, a neatly attired Chen Dalang betook himself to the Wang pawnshop on Great Market Street, followed by a page boy carrying a big leather case containing three to four hundred taels of silver. He cast a glance at the upper windows of the house opposite and took the tightly shut windows to mean that the woman was not in the front wing. Saluting the pawnshop clerk with folded hands, he asked for a wooden bench and sat down at the door, looking eastward. Before long, Granny Xue came into sight, holding a wicker box in her arms. Chen Dalang stopped her and asked, “What do you have in the box?”

“Pearls and other pieces of jewelry. Would you have any use for them, sir?”

“The very things I want to buy.”

Granny Xue stepped into the pawnshop, greeted the clerk, and, with a polite word or two, opened the box. There were, in the box, about ten packets of pearls as well as a few small boxes containing fashionable ornaments in the shape of flower clusters, with kingfisher-feather inlay. The designs were most exquisite and the luster dazzled the eyes. Chen Dalang picked a few strings of extremely large white pearls and put them in a pile along with some hairpins and earrings, saying, “I’ll take all of these.”

Giving him a meaningful look, the old woman said, “You may use them if you want, sir, but I’m afraid you might not be ready to pay the sti price.”

Taking her hint, Chen Dalang opened his leather case, spread the silver on the table in a dazzling display (Showing o his wealth), and yelled at the top of his voice, “Don’t tell me that with all this silver I can’t a ord those things of yours!”

By this time, seven or eight idle onlookers from the neighborhood had already gathered at the door. The old woman said, “I was only joking. How could I dream of taking you for less than you are? You’d better be careful with your silver. Please put it away. I’ll be happy as long as we strike a fair deal.”

And so the bargaining began, one asking for a high price and the other countering with a small o er, with the distance of heaven from earth between the sums. While the woman held her ground firmly, Chen Dalang picked up the pearls, and, refusing to put them down or raise his o er, he deliberately stepped out of the shop. Turning each piece over and over for a good look, he commented on which ones were genuine and which ones fake, and appraised their value while all the time letting them sparkle in the sunlight. He soon attracted a large crowd, which frequently burst into cheer.

The old woman shouted, “Buy them if you want. If not, that’ll be that. Why do you have to waste my time like this!”

Chen Dalang retorted, “How do you know I’m not buying?” And the haggling started all over again. Truly,

Hearing the commotion opposite her house, Wang Sanqiao stepped, without realizing she was doing so, to the front wing of the house and pushed open the windows for a glimpse. There, for all to see, was the lovely sight of pearls sparkling in all their splendor. As the old woman and the customer were still locked in a haggle over price, she told her maid to have the woman come over and show her the merchandise. (No sight, no desire. She cannot but fall into the crafty old woman’s trap.) Thus instructed, Clear Cloud walked across the street and, with a tug at Granny Xue’s sleeve, said, “My mistress would like to see you.”

The old woman asked deliberately, “Which family might that be?”

“The Jiang family across the street.”

With one sweep of her hand, the old woman whisked away all the pearls, wrapped them up in haste, and said, “I can’t a ord to be held up by you like this!”

Chen Dalang insisted, “I’ll add some more and we can close the deal!”

“No, I’m not selling. At your price, I could have sold them a long time ago.” While saying this, she put her jewels into the box, locked it as before, and carried it away.

“Let me carry it for you,” said Clear Cloud.

“No, I can manage.” With never a look back, she headed straight for the house across the street. Filled with inward joy, Chen Dalang also gathered up his silver, took leave of the pawnshop clerk, and returned to his lodgings. Indeed,

Clear Cloud led Granny Xue upstairs to meet Sanqiao. At the sight of the young woman, Xue thought to herself, “What a heavenly beauty! No wonder Chen Dalang is so infatuated. If I were a man, I’d also lose my head.” Aloud, she said, “I have long heard about your virtues. I regret that I haven’t had a chance earlier to make your acquaintance.”

“What is your honorable name, may I ask?”

“My surname is Xue. I live right near here on East Lane. In fact, I am a neighbor of yours.”

“Why did you say you weren’t selling these things?”

The old woman said with a laugh, “If they were not for sale, I wouldn’t have taken them out. I’m just amused that the traveler, however handsome and smart he looked, knew nothing about the value of my goods.” (Clever remark.) Having said these words, she opened the box, took out a few hairpins and earrings, and handed them to the young lady for her to look at. “Madam,” she exclaimed. “You can well imagine how much it costs just to make such fine jewelry. At his ridiculous price, how am I to go back and report the loss to my employer?” She then lifted a few strings of pearls and continued, “Such top quality! He must have been dreaming!”

Sanqiao asked about the amount and remarked, “That’s truly unfair to you.”

“Being from a genteel family, you have seen a lot, after all. Your judgment is ten times better than a man’s.”

Sanqiao told her maid to serve tea, but the old woman said, “I’m not going to trouble you for tea. I need to go to West Lane for some important business. That man wasted too much of my time. This is truly a case of ‘a deal that fails to go through holding up all your work.’ May I leave this box here in your care, lock and all? I’ll be back soon.” With these words, she took her leave. Sanqiao had Clear Cloud see her down the stairs. She then went out the door and set o in a westerly direction.

Much taken with the pieces of jewelry, Sanqiao waited eagerly for the old woman to come back to talk about prices. Five days went by without the woman’s making an appearance. (The delaying tactics of a master strategist.) In the afternoon of the sixth day, a sudden rainstorm sprang up. Before the sound of the rain had subsided, there came knocks at the door. Sanqiao had a maid open the door, and who should walk in but Granny Xue with her clothes half drenched. Carrying a broken umbrella, she chanted,

She put the umbrella by the stairs and went up to the second floor. With a bow of greeting, she said, “Madam, sorry I didn’t keep my word the other day.”

Sanqiao hastened to return her greeting and asked, “Where have you been the last few days?”

“I went to see my daughter’s new baby son and stayed there for a couple of days. I didn’t get back until this morning. It started to rain when I was halfway here, so I borrowed an umbrella from a friend, but it turned out to be broken. What bad luck!”

“How many children do you have?”

“I have only one son who is already married. As to daughters, I have four. The one I went to see is the youngest. She is married as a concubine to Squire Zhu of Huizhou, who owns a salt shop outside the north city gate.”

“You have too many daughters to care if they get the best deals. There’s no lack of men in this area who’d take her as wife, not as concubine. How could you have married o your daughter to an outsider as a concubine?”

“You might not know that, in fact, people from other places are more gracious. My daughter may be a concubine, but the first wife only stays at home. It’s my daughter who orders the maids about in the shop just as a wife would do. Every time I go there, he treats me with all the respect that an elder deserves, without the slightest neglect. Now that she’s given him a son, things are even better.” (Another clever remark.)

“You’re lucky to have married o your daughter so well.”

At this moment, Clear Cloud brought in tea. After the two of them drank their tea, Granny Xue said, “There being nothing to do on such a rainy day, may I make so bold as to ask for a look at your jewelry? It would be helpful if I could keep in mind some exquisite designs.”

“Mine are nothing fancy. Please don’t laugh.” So saying, Sanqiao opened her caskets with a key and, little by little, took out quite a number of hairpins, filigrees, tassels, and the like. Granny Xue was profuse with praises. “With such a collection of treasures, I would expect you to turn up your nose at those few items of mine.”

“It’s kind of you to say so, but I was just going to ask you for prices.”

“You are a good judge of quality,” said the old woman. “Why waste my breath?”

Sanqiao put away her things and placed Granny Xue’s wicker box on the table. Handing the key to Granny Xue, she said, “Please open it and see if everything is intact.”

“You don’t have to be so discreet.” The old woman opened the box and took out the items one by one for Sanqiao’s appraisal. The prices Sanqiao o e red were all close to what Granny Xue would have asked. Without any objections, the old woman said cheerfully, “That’ll be a fair deal. I’ll be happy even if I make a few strings of cash less.”

“But there’s one problem. Right now, I’m not able to pay more than half of the total sum. I’ll have to wait for my husband to come home to pay o the balance. He should be back in a couple of days.”

“A few days won’t make any di erence. It’s just that because I’ve made quite a concession on the price, I’d like to have the silver in the finest quality.”

“That can be easily done.” So saying, Sanqiao picked out pieces of jewelry and pearls that she liked most. She then called Clear Cloud to serve some wine for Granny Xue to stay a little longer. “How can I disturb you like this?” said the old woman.

“I have little to do most of the time,” said Sanqiao. “It’s so seldom that you are here to chat with me and keep me company. If you don’t mind my not being a good hostess, please come visit me often.”

“Thank you for such kindness, which I hardly deserve. My house is unbearably noisy, but your house is indeed too quiet.”

“What line of business is your son in?”

“He does nothing more than receive jewelry dealers at home. I can’t stand their daily requests for wine and soup. Thanks to the need to visit di erent households on business, I don’t stay at home a lot, so it’s all right. If I had to be cooped up in those six feet of space at home, I’d be annoyed to death.”

“Our house being so close to yours, do come over for a chat whenever you need a break.” (Falling into the trap.)

“But I wouldn’t presume to disturb you too often.”

“What kind of talk is this!” exclaimed Sanqiao.

In the meantime, the two maidservants were busily going back and forth setting the table, laying out two sets of cups and chopsticks, two bowls each of smoked chicken and meat, fresh fish, and ten dishes of vegetables and fruits, bringing the total number of dishes to sixteen. “What a fine spread!” said Granny Xue.

“These are just what we have at the moment. Please don’t think ill of me for not being a good hostess.” Having said this, Sanqiao poured out wine for the old woman and handed her the cup. The latter o ered a toast, and the two sat down across the table from each other and fell to drinking. As it was, Sanqiao had a good capacity for wine, and Granny Xue was a veritable wine jug. As they drank, the two felt even more drawn to each other than before and wished they had gotten to know each other sooner. They drank until evening set in. As the rain had stopped, Granny Xue said her thanks and wanted to leave, but Sanqiao took out a large silver wine vessel, urged her to drink more, and, after a few more vessels, they ate dinner together. Sanqiao pleaded, “Stay around some more before I let you go with half the money I owe you.”

“It’s getting late,” said Granny Xue. “Take your time. One night doesn’t make any di erence. I’ll come to get it tomorrow. I’ll leave the wicker box here, also, for the road will be too muddy and slippery for me to carry anything.” (Delaying tactics again.)

“I’ll be expecting you tomorrow,” said Sanqiao. The old woman took her leave, went down the stairs, picked up her broken umbrella, and went out the door. Truly,

In the meantime, Chen Dalang was waiting in his lodgings for news. Several days went by without any word from Granny Xue. Convinced that the old woman should be at home that rainy day, he headed into town through the rain and the mud to ask her for news, only to learn that she was not at home. He went into a wineshop, where he had three drinks and ate some refreshments before returning to Granny Xue’s door, but she had not come back. As he waited, afternoon dimmed into evening, and he was on the point of turning back when Granny Xue walked into the alley with a limp, her face flushed with wine. Chen Dalang took a few steps forward, greeted her with a bow, and asked, “How is your plan coming along?”

The woman shook her hand in a gesture of negation and said, “There’s still a long way to go. I’ve just sown the seeds. The shoots haven’t come up yet. You won’t get a taste until five or six years later when they blossom and bear fruit. Don’t you stick your nose in here. Your old mother is not the kind that meddles in other people’s a airs.”

Seeing that she was addled with wine, Chen Dalang could do no more than return to his lodgings.

The following day, Granny Xue bought some fresh fruit, chicken, fish, pork, and the like, and had a cook prepare them. She then packed the food up in two boxes, and bought a jar of the best wine. With the boy from next door carrying the load, she betook herself to the Jiang residence. Sanqiao was expecting Granny Xue’s visit that day. On her instruction, Clear Cloud was on the point of opening the door to take a look around for Granny Xue when whom should she see but the old woman herself. Granny Xue told the boy to put the load down by the stairs and sent him on his way. In the meantime, Clear Cloud announced the visitor to her mistress. Treating Granny Xue as an honored guest, Sanqiao went as far as the stairway to greet her and invite her up. With profuse words of thanks, the old woman bent her knees slightly in a gesture of greeting and said, “I happen to have some watery wine today and brought it along for your enjoyment.”

“I shouldn’t have put you to such expense,” said Sanqiao. The old woman asked the two maids to bring up the food and wine, and a fine spread they made.

Sanqiao said, “You really shouldn’t be so extravagant.”

Granny Xue replied with a smile, “A humble household like mine has nothing fancy to o er. Just take this as a cup of tea.” Clear Cloud went to fetch cups and chopsticks, while Warm Snow started lighting the portable brazier. When the wine was warm enough a moment later, Granny Xue said, “This is my treat, so would you please sit in the guest seat?”

“I am indeed much obliged,” said Sanqiao, “but this being my humble house, how can I presume to accept that honor?”

After much arguing, each trying to yield the seat of honor to the other, it was Granny Xue who ended up taking the guest’s seat. This being the third time they were together, they felt even more at ease in each other’s company.

In the midst of their drinking, Granny Xue commented, “Your husband has been away a long time now. How can he abandon his wife like this!”

Sanqiao said, “You’re right. He said he would be back in one year. I wonder what’s keeping him.”

The old woman pressed her point: “The way I see it, even making piles of gold and jade does not justify abandoning such a beautiful wife.” She continued, “As a rule, traveling merchants take the inn as home and treat their home as an inn. Take my fourth son-in-law, Squire Zhu, for example. Ever since he’s had my daughter as a concubine, he’s been enjoying her from morning to night, with never a thought of the family he left behind! He goes home only once every three or four years and comes back after staying for no more than a couple of months. His first wife is virtually a widow taking care of the orphans, not knowing what he is up to behind her back.” (Convincing argument.)

“My husband is not that kind,” said Sanqiao.

Granny Xue conceded, “I was only saying that for the sake of conversation. How would I dream of comparing earth with heaven?” (Good retreat.) They went on to play games of riddle-guessing and dice-throwing and did not take leave of each other until they were tipsy with wine.

Two days later, the old woman came again, this time with the boy to take back her things as well as to collect payment for half of the purchase. Sanqiao kept her again for some refreshments.

Henceforth, Granny Xue frequented the Jiang residence, ostensibly to ask about Xingge, using the unpaid half of the money as a pretext. With her glib tongue and her playful ways with the maids (Behavior befitting the character), she won the heart of everyone in the household, high and low, so much so that Sanqiao would feel lonely if a single day went by without the old woman making an appearance. She had an old servant find out where Granny Xue lived, and, with constant invitations, visits from Granny Xue grew all the more frequent. (Falling into the trap.)

There are, in this world, four kinds of people with whom it would be wise not to get involved, for once you do, you’ll never be able to free yourself from them. Who are these people? They are traveling monks and Taoists, beggars, vagrants, and go-betweens. The first three kinds are more tolerable than the last one, for go-betweens have access to private chambers. In moments of loneliness, nine women out of ten welcome their visits. Now, Granny Xue was not the kind-hearted sort by nature. Her sweet tongue made Sanqiao so attached to her that the latter could hardly do without her, not even for a moment. Truly,

More than once, Chen Dalang tried to get information out of her, but Granny Xue always put him o , saying it was not yet time. It being the middle of the fifth month, with the weather turning hot, the woman casually mentioned to Sanqiao that her home was most unfit for summer living, for it was as small as a snail’s shell, with western exposure, and was far less spacious and airy than the latter’s two-story house. Sanqiao said, “If you don’t mind, you may sleep here at night.” (Falling into the trap.)

“That would be nice, but what if your husband comes back?”

“Even if he does, it won’t be in the middle of the night.”

“Since you don’t mind my intruding—and I am the kind to impose myself on others, I’ll bring over my bedding this very evening to keep you company. How about that?”

“I have extra bedding. You don’t have to bring yours. Just tell your folks that you are staying here for the whole summer. How would you like that?”

The old woman did indeed tell her son and daughter-in-law so, and brought over nothing more than a box of toilet articles. Sanqiao said, “You didn’t even have to do that! You don’t really think there’s a lack of combs in this house, do you?”

“My biggest fear in life is of sharing other people’s combs and facewashing water. Plus, I’m afraid your combs are too nice for me. Nor would I use the maids’ combs. It’s better to bring my own. (Even such trivial details are interesting.) But, tell me, which room is for me?”

Pointing at a small rattan couch by her own bed, Sanqiao said, “I’ve got everything done. By staying closer, we can chat at night when sleep doesn’t come to us.” (Falling into the trap.) So saying, she took out a green gauze bedcurtain and had Granny Xue hang it up herself. The two had a drink before they retired. The two maids used to sleep at the foot of Sanqiao’s bed to keep her company, but, now that Granny Xue had moved in, they were sent o to the next room.

From then on Granny Xue would return to the Jiang residence after a day of peddling her merchandise from door to door, and the Jiang residence came alive with frequent merry drinking. The bed and the couch being arranged in a “T” shape, the two women lay as close to each other as if they were side by side, though separated as they were by a curtain. At night they would chitchat, and, with one asking questions and the other answering, their gossip included all of the sordid details about happenings in the neighborhood. (Closing in on her, step by step. A most credible detail.) Sometimes the old woman would feign drunkenness and talk about her clandestine love a airs in her younger days, to stir up Sanqiao’s amorous thoughts, and, indeed, the color came and went on the latter’s fair-skinned and delicate cheeks. (Most cunning.) Granny Xue realized that the lewd stories were working, but found it awkward to bring up the real subject yet.

Time sped by. In no time, the seventh day of the seventh month rolled around. As it happened to be Sanqiao’s birthday, Granny Xue rose bright and early and prepared two boxes of birthday presents to celebrate the occasion. Sanqiao said her thanks and asked Xue to stay for the birthday noodles. Granny Xue said, “I have a busy day ahead of me. I’ll come in the evening to keep you company, and we’ll watch the Herdboy and Weaving Maiden get together.” (Every word is significant.) Having said these words, she went o .

Barely had she walked down the steps than she ran into Chen Dalang. As they could not very well talk on the street, Chen Dalang followed her into a secluded alley. Wearing a frown, he grumbled, “Mother, how you’ve been dragging your feet! Spring is gone, summer is behind us, and autumn is here. Day after day, you say nothing but that it’s not yet time, it’s not yet time, but do you know that, for me, a day is as long as a year? A few more days and her husband will be back and the whole thing will be o ! Won’t you be killing me? Just remember: I’ll haunt you from the netherworld to make you pay me back with your life.”

“Don’t carry on like that. I was just on my way to invite you, and here you are. Whether the whole thing can be pulled o or not will depend on tonight. You’ll have to do as I say.” And she went on to instruct him to do thus and so. “Everything has to be done quietly. You must not get me into any trouble.”

Chen Dalang said with a nod, “A wonderful plan! Wonderful! I’ll have a handsome reward for you if it works.” With that, he went merrily on his way. Truly,

To get on with our story, Granny Xue promised Chen Dalang that action was to be taken that very night. After a misty drizzle all afternoon, night fell with a darkness unrelieved by any glimmer of star or moonlight. In the inky darkness, Granny Xue took Chen Dalang to the left of the house door, where she told him to hide while she herself went to knock at the door. A paper lantern in hand, Clear Cloud opened the door. Granny Xue deliberately groped in her own sleeves and said, “I lost my Linqing¹³ handkerchief. Would you be so kind as to look for it for me, dear?”

While Clear Cloud was tricked into turning her lantern toward the street, the old woman motioned Chen Dalang over, and the two slipped through the door. Having led him to hide behind the staircase (With such meticulous planning for every move, Granny Xue could very well be a military strategist), Granny Xue cried out, “I’ve found it! You don’t have to look anymore.”

Clear Cloud said, “My lantern happened to go out, too. Let me light up another one for you.”

“I know my way about by now,” said the woman. “I don’t need a light.” With the door closed behind them, Granny Xue and Clear Cloud groped their way up the stairs.

“What was it you dropped?” asked Sanqiao.

Pulling out a small handkerchief from her sleeve, the old woman answered, “It was this cursed thing. It’s not worth much, but it’s a gift from a traveler from Beijing. Isn’t it true that ‘the gift is trifling but it’s the thought that counts’?”

Sanqiao said teasingly, “Could it be a keepsake from some old flame?”

The old woman laughed. “That wouldn’t be too far from the truth.” Merrily, they fell to drinking. The old woman suggested, “There being so much food and wine, why don’t you o er some to the servants in the kitchen? Let them also have some fun on this night of celebration.” Accordingly, Sanqiao told the maid to take four dishes and two jugs of wine downstairs. The three servants in the kitchen—two women and a man—consumed the food and wine and withdrew to their own quarters. And there we shall leave them.

In the meantime, Granny Xue asked in the midst of the drinking, “Why isn’t your husband back yet?”

“It’s been a year and a half now,” said Sanqiao.

“Even the Herdboy and the Weaving Maiden meet once a year. And here you are, beating them by half a year. It’s often said, ‘In status, traveling merchants come second only to officials.’ Where can’t travelers find romance? It’s their wives at home who su er.” (Most cunning.)

With a sigh, Sanqiao hung her head and fell silent. The old woman said, “Well, I shouldn’t be shooting o my mouth like that. Tonight, the Herdboy meets the Weaving Maiden. It’s an occasion that calls for wine and merrymaking. Let me say nothing that saddens the heart.” (These are nothing less than words that sadden the heart.) So saying, she poured Sanqiao a cup of wine.

When they were well warmed with wine, Granny Xue o ered some to the two maids, saying, “This is in celebration of the tryst between the Herdboy and the Weaving Maiden. Drink your fill. I hope you will marry loving husbands who stay with you every moment of your lives.”

Unable to fight her o , the two maids reluctantly drank the wine. The e ect of the wine soon made them sway and tumble every which way. Sanqiao ordered them to close the staircase door and go to sleep (Falling deeper into the trap), whereas she and Granny Xue continued to drink at their ease.

While drinking, the old woman kept up a steady stream of chatter. “How old were you when you married?” she asked. (There she goes.)

“Seventeen,” answered Sanqiao.

“It’s not such a bad deal if you did the thing late. As for me, I lost my virginity at the age of thirteen.”

“You married that early?”

“If you’re talking about marriage, I married when I was eighteen. I might as well tell you, I was learning to sew in a neighbor’s house when the young master seduced me. I fell for his good looks and gave in to him. At first, the pain was excruciating, but after doing it two or three times, I came to like it a lot. Was it the same case with you?”

Sanqiao giggled without answering. Granny Xue continued, “It would be better had I not experienced what it’s like. Once you’ve had the experience, you can’t get it out of your mind, and you get an itch for it from time to time. It’s better during the day, but nighttime is most dreadful.”

“You must have known a lot of men before marriage. How did you manage to pass yourself o as a virgin when you got married?”

“My mother was afraid of a scandal because she had some idea of what was going on. So she gave me a prescription for restoring virginity. The thing tightened up after being washed with pomegranate skin and alum. I made a great fuss about the pain and so I passed.”

“But before you married, didn’t you have to sleep by yourself at night?”

“I remember that before I married, I used to sleep in the same bed with my sister-in-law, head to head, foot to foot, when my brother was away. We took turns playing the man’s part on each other’s belly.”

“What’s the good of two women sleeping together?”

The old woman walked over, sat down by her side, and said, “You may not know this, but, as long as both know how to do it, it’s just as much fun and provides just as much relief.”

Sanqiao gave the woman a playful slap on the shoulder and said, “I don’t believe this. You’re lying.” (She takes the bait.)

Seeing that Sanqiao’s desires had been stirred up, the woman continued to work on her: “I am fifty-two years old, but at night, I still often have maddening fits of desire that I can hardly fight o . You are lucky to be able to stay calm, young as you are.”

“You don’t mean you’ll have an a air with some man when your desire gets the better of you?”

“I am a withered flower, a dried-up willow tree. Who wants me anymore? I might as well tell you: I know a way to give myself pleasure, an ‘emergency relief measure.’”

“You are lying. What is it?”

“I’ll tell you everything about it when we get to bed in a moment,” said the old woman.

At this juncture, a moth was seen fluttering over the lamp. Granny Xue swatted at it with a fan, deliberately putting the lamp out. (The woman’s craftiness is frightening.) “Aya!” she cried. “Let me go and get another light.” With that, she left to open the staircase door. In the meantime, Chen Dalang had already mounted the stairs and had been hiding by the door for some time now. This was all part of Granny Xue’s scheme. “I forgot to bring a match with me,” Granny Xue called out. So she retraced her steps and led Chen Dalang to lie down on her own couch, while she herself went downstairs and came up again a moment later, saying, “It’s so late now that the pilot fire in the kitchen has gone out. What’s to be done?”

“I’m used to sleeping with a light on,” said Sanqiao. “This darkness is scary!”

“Shall I sleep in the same bed with you to keep you company?”

Wishing to ask her about the “emergency relief measure,” Sanqiao said, “That’ll be fine.”

“You can go to bed first,” said Granny Xue. “I’ll join you after I close the door.”

Sanqiao undressed first and got into bed, saying, “Please come quickly.”

“Coming!” said Granny Xue, while dragging Chen Dalang, all naked, from the couch into Sanqiao’s bed. Sanqiao touched his body and said, “For a woman of your age, what smooth skin you have!” Without a word of reply (He can’t very well talk, can he?), the man slipped under the quilt, embraced her, and kissed her on the mouth. Still thinking it was the old woman, she put her arms around him. Suddenly, the man mounted her and started to do the real thing. Partly because she was tipsy with wine and partly because her amorous desires had been roused by the old woman, she let him have his way without bothering to find out who he was.

Being an old hand in the world of love, Chen Dalang played the game of clouds and rain so well that the woman was brought into raptures.

After their passion had abated, Sanqiao asked, “Who are you?” Chen Dalang gave a full account of how he had seen her from the street, how he had fallen in love, and how he had pleaded hard with Granny Xue for a way to see her. “Now that I have fulfilled the dream of my life, I’ll have no regrets when I die.”

At this moment, Granny Xue approached the bed and said, “It’s not that I was impertinent, but I thought it a shame that a young woman like you should be living all alone. I also wanted to save his life. As a matter of fact, the two of you are drawn together by a predestined bond. I had nothing to do with it.”

Sanqiao said, “Now that things have come to this, what’s to be done if my husband gets to hear about this?”

The old woman said, “This is a secret between us. If we bribe Clear Cloud and Warm Snow and tell them not to shoot their mouths o , who else will let on anything? Leave this to me, and I’ll guarantee that you can enjoy yourselves every night without a worry. Just don’t forget me in the future.”

Sanqiao was in no mood at this time to concern herself with too many things, and the two resumed their amorous sport. They were still loath to part when daybreak drew near after the drum of the fifth watch. It was at Granny Xue’s urging that Chen Dalang rose and went out the door in Xue’s company.

Henceforth, they did not miss a single night. He came either alone or in Granny Xue’s company. The latter used honeyed words and dark threats alternately on the two maids and had their mistress reward them with clothes. The man, for his part, also tipped them from time to time with a few pieces of loose silver for them to buy sweets with. The two maids were so delighted that they willingly became accomplices, greeting the visitor at night and sending him o in the morning with never an obstacle in the way. The couple came to be as inseparable as glue and lacquer, and more loving than the average lawfully wedded man and wife. With his mind set on binding the woman more securely to him, Chen Dalang showered her with nice clothes and fine jewelry and paid on her behalf all the money she owed Granny Xue. As a token of his gratitude, he gave the old woman another hundred taels of silver. In a little more than six months since he had first come to know Sanqiao, he spent nearly a thousand taels of gold. Sanqiao also gave Granny Xue gifts worth over thirty taels of silver. It was for the sake of such ill-gotten gains that the old woman agreed to be a procuress, but this is of no concern to us here.

The ancients said, “No feast does not come to an end.”

Uneasy over the thought of having neglected his business for too long, Chen Dalang now wished to return to his hometown. One night, he brought up the subject to Sanqiao, but, both being as deeply attached to each other as they were, neither could bear the thought of separation. The woman would have gladly packed up her personal belongings, eloped with the man, and lived with him ever after as his wife, but Chen Dalang objected: “This won’t do. Granny Xue knows about our relationship all too well. My landlord Mr. Lü must also have his suspicions as to where I’m o to every night. What’s more, there’ll be a lot of travelers on the boat. Whom do you think we can fool? Nor can we bring along the two maids. When your husband comes back and finds out everything, he’s not going to let the matter rest. Be patient. At this time next year, I’ll come again and quietly send you a message from some secluded lodgings so that the two of us can slip away, unbeknownst to god or ghost. Wouldn’t that be safer?”

“What if you don’t show up by that time?” asked the woman, whereupon Chen Dalang pledged a vow. “Since you do mean it,” said Sanqiao, “I will not fail you, either, whatever happens. When you get home, please send a message to Granny Xue by anyone who happens to come this way, so as to put my mind at ease.”

Chen Dalang promised, “I’ll surely do that. Don’t worry.”

A few days later, Chen Dalang hired a boat, and, after his provisions had been loaded, he went to bid Sanqiao farewell. That night they were doubly tender to each other, talking, weeping, and indulging in their desires by turns, without so much as a wink of sleep throughout the night. They rose at the fifth watch, and the woman opened a trunk, from which she took out a prized possession called the “pearl shirt.” Handing it over to Chen Dalang, she said, “This shirt is a Jiang family heirloom that has a wonderful cooling e ect on the body in summertime. You’ll need it because the weather is getting warm. This will be a keepsake from me. To wear this shirt is to feel my body.” Chen Dalang was so choked with sobs that he felt himself go limp and was unable to utter a single word. Sanqiao put the shirt on him, had a maid open the door, and saw him o as far as the door, where they took leave of each other with much emotion. As the poem says,

Our story forks at this point. After he came into possession of the pearl shirt, Chen Dalang wore it every day next to his skin. When he had to take it o before sleep every night, he put it under his quilt, and never, for a moment, did he part with the shirt. All along the journey, the boat was sailing with the wind. Within two months, he reached Maple Bridge in Suzhou Prefecture. There being in the neighborhood a trading center for brokers in rice and fuel, Chen Dalang naturally went to look for a buyer for his goods, but let us speak no more of this.

One day, at a fellow townsman’s party, he met a merchant from Xiangyang. This man was in fact none other than Jiang Xingge. What had happened was that after having done some trading in pearls, tortoiseshell, sappanwood, aloeswood, and the like in Guangdong, Xingge had set o together with some fellow merchants. As his fellow travelers suggested going to Suzhou to sell their goods, Xingge agreed, recalling the saying “Above, there is paradise; below, there are Suzhou and Hangzhou.” A trip to such a big port would be worthwhile for some more business deals before returning home. He had arrived in Suzhou in the middle of the tenth month of the previous year. As Jiang was known in business circles as Mr. Luo, Chen Dalang had no inkling as to his true identity. At such a chance meeting, the two men, being of about the same age and similar physical appearance, came to respect and admire each other in the course of their conversation. At the dinner table, they asked for the location of each other’s lodgings, and thus started a close friendship and a stream of frequent mutual visits.

After having taken care of his accounts, Xingge went to Chen Dalang’s lodgings to bid the latter farewell, for he was now ready to be on his way. Dalang set out some wine, and the two fell into a most pleasant conversation. The weather being hot, for it was drawing near the end of the fifth month, they took o their outer garments as they drank. As Chen Dalang did so, the pearl shirt was exposed to full view before Xingge’s eyes. However astonished he was, Xingge could not very well claim the shirt as his. Instead, he confined himself to commenting that it was a nice shirt indeed. Believing he had a friend to confide in, Dalang asked, “Do you, Brother Luo, happen to know a Jiang Xingge who lives on Great Market Street in your county?”

Being the discreet man he was, Xingge replied, “I’ve been away for too long. I’ve heard of such a man, but I don’t know him personally. Why do you ask, Brother Chen?”

“To tell you the truth, my brother, I’ve come to be connected with him in a way.” Whereupon he supplied a full account of his a air with Sanqiao. Pulling at his shirt, he said, his eyes brimming over with tears, “This shirt is a gift from her. Now that you are leaving for home, please do me the favor of delivering a letter for me. I will send the letter to your place first thing tomorrow morning.”

While he gave his promise, Xingge thought to himself, “How extraordinary! With the pearl shirt as evidence, his story must be true.” Feeling as if being stabbed by needles in the stomach, on some pretext he declined more o ers of wine and hastened to leave. Back in his lodgings, he sank into reflection for one moment and grew fretful the next. How he wished he could learn some magic trick to shrink the distance and be home in a trice! He packed up all of his belongings before the night was out and embarked on the boat early in the morning, ready to be on his way.

At this juncture, a man ran up to the boat, panting for breath. It was Chen Dalang. He handed over to Xingge a large package, reminding him to be sure to deliver it. Xingge’s face turned ashen with rage. Speech failed him, as did his will to live or to die. It was not until Chen Dalang had left that he took a look at the envelope. It bore the line “Please be kind enough to deliver the letter to Granny Xue’s house in East Lane o Great Market Street.”

Angrily, Xingge ripped open the package with a single swipe of his hand, revealing a peach-pink gauze scarf more than two yards in length. There was also an oblong paper box containing a phoenix hairpin of fine white jade and a note saying, “Godmother, please do me the favor of delivering these two small gifts to my beloved Sanqiao as a token of my love. I will certainly see her next spring. Tell her to take good care of herself.” In a rush of rage, Xingge tore the letter to pieces and tossed them into the river. Next, he picked up the jade hairpin and threw it onto the deck, where it broke in two. Then an idea occurred to him: “What a fool I am!” he said to himself. “Why don’t I keep them as evidence?” He picked up the pieces of the hairpin, wrapped them up with the scarf, put the package away, and urged the boatman to get under way. All through the journey home he was gripped by intense anxiety.

As his house came into sight, tears fell from his eyes in spite of himself. (Pitiable.) “What a loving couple we used to be!” he thought. “It’s my foolish pursuit of profits the size of a fly’s head that made her a virtual widow in the prime of her youth and caused such a scandal. Regrets are too late now!” While on the way, he had been only too anxious to reach home, but now that he found himself approaching the house, feelings of pain and regret overcame him. His pace slackened. (How realistic!) As he crossed the threshold, he was obliged to curb his anger and force himself to greet his wife, though he had hardly a word to say. Sanqiao, for her part, felt so ill at ease that, with shame written all over her face, she did not presume to step forward and strike up an a ectionate conversation. After he finished moving his baggage into the house, Xingge said he wanted to pay a visit to his parents-in-law, but, in fact, he spent the night on the boat.

The following morning, he went back home and said to Sanqiao, “Your parents are both gravely ill. That’s why I had to stay with them for the night to take care of them. They miss you very much and wish to see you. I have hired a sedan-chair, which is waiting at the door. You may go quickly. I will follow soon.”

Sanqiao had grown apprehensive about her husband’s absence for the night and readily believed this story about her parents’ illness. Filled with alarm, she hurriedly handed the trunk keys to her husband and mounted the sedan-chair, taking a waiting woman with her. Xingge stopped the waiting woman, gave her a letter that he took out from his sleeve, and told her to deliver it to Mr. Wang. “After giving him the letter,” he continued, “you may return by the same sedan-chair.”

Upon arrival, Sanqiao was surprised to find both parents in good health. Mr. Wang also gasped with astonishment at his daughter’s unannounced return. As he took the letter from the waiting woman, he found, upon opening, that it was a statement of divorce that read,

In the envelope was also a peach-colored scarf and a broken jade phoenix hairpin. In great alarm, Mr. Wang called forth his daughter for questioning. Hearing that her husband had divorced her, Sanqiao broke down into sobs without saying a word. In a hu , Mr. Wang stormed through the streets and into his son-in-law’s house. Jiang Xingge hurriedly stepped forward with a bow of greeting. Mr. Wang returned the greeting and said, “My good son-inlaw, my daughter was a pure and innocent girl when she married you. What did she do wrong to make you divorce her? You owe me an explanation.”

“I can’t very well tell you. Ask your daughter and you’ll know.”

“She keeps crying without saying a word. I’m all in the dark! My daughter has always been a sensible girl, and I don’t think she would be guilty of something like adultery or theft. If it’s just some minor misdemeanor, please forgive her for my sake. The two of you were betrothed when you were seven or eight years old, and you have never had a harsh word for each other in your peaceful married life. You haven’t even been home for more than a day since you came back from your travels. What could you have found wrong? Such heartlessness on your part will hold you up for ridicule for being a most unkind man.” (The very thing a father-in-law is likely to say under the circumstances.)

“I will not venture to say too much to you, my father-in-law, but you may ask your daughter if she still has the pearl shirt, an heirloom of my family, that was entrusted to her care. If she still has it, well and good. If not, do not blame me for what I did.”

Mr. Wang made haste to return home and asked his daughter, “Your husband is only asking you for a pearl shirt. Now tell me, whom did you give it to?” The woman flushed crimson with shame, for these words struck right on her sore point. Without knowing what to say, she burst into loud wails of grief. Mr. Wang was so disconcerted that he was at a loss what to do. In an attempt to placate her, Mrs. Wang said, “Don’t keep crying like that. Tell Mom and Dad the truth, so we can help you sort things out.” The daughter firmly refused to tell them anything. Instead, she kept weeping bitterly. Mr. Wang could do nothing more than hand over to his wife the divorce statement, the scarf, and the hairpin and tell her to be gentle with their daughter and gradually get the truth out of her.

The much-bewildered Mr. Wang went to a neighbor’s house for some idle talk. Observing that her daughter’s eyes were all red and swollen from crying, Mrs. Wang came to fear that her health would break down. After a few soothing words, she went to the kitchen to warm some wine to cheer up her daughter with.

Sitting all by herself in her room, Sanqiao began to wonder how the secret of the pearl shirt could have been divulged and where the scarf and hairpin had come from. After some moments of reflection, she said to herself, “I see. The broken hairpin means the marriage is at an end, just as a broken mirror symbolizes a broken marriage. The scarf is obviously for me to hang myself with. (Even a guess sounds so real.) Considering his feelings for me, he chose not to say it in so many words, so as to let me keep my good name. How sad it is that four years of a happy marriage are so suddenly brought to an end. It’s all my fault, for I betrayed my husband’s love. I suppose I will know no more happiness if I live on. I’d better hang myself and be done with it.” At this point, she broke down in another fit of weeping. She put something under a stool to raise it, threw the scarf over a rafter, and proceeded to hang herself. However, she was not destined to die yet.

With the door left ajar, Mrs. Wang walked in with a flask of fine, heated wine. The sight of her daughter getting ready to hang herself threw her into such panic that, without stopping to put down the flask, she rushed forward to pull her daughter away. In the confusion, she kicked over the stool, and she and her daughter fell in a heap on the floor amid spilled wine. Mrs. Wang scrambled to her feet and helped her daughter up, saying, “How foolish you are! You are only in your twenties, like a flower not yet in full bloom. How could you have done such a thing! Even if your husband won’t change his mind and goes through with the divorce, you, with your looks, won’t have to worry about any lack of marriage proposals. You can well a ord to pick a good husband and enjoy the marriage the rest of your life. Just relax and get on with your life. Forget all worries.”

After he returned home and learned about his daughter’s suicide attempt, Mr. Wang also tried to comfort her with some soothing words. At the same time, he told his wife to be on alert and watch their daughter closely. A few days later, Sanqiao gave up the thought, as she saw the futility of any more such attempts. Truly,

Let us come back to Jiang Xingge. He tied up Clear Cloud and Warm Snow with rope and beat them to make them confess. At first, they denied any knowledge of the a air, but later, unable to withstand the pain, they finally confessed all the details from beginning to end. It was thus made clear that no one else was to blame but Granny Xue, who had single-handedly pulled o the whole thing. The following morning, Xingge led a group of men to Granny Xue’s house and smashed everything into pieces the size of snowflakes, falling just short of tearing the house down. Well aware that she was in the wrong, Granny Xue slipped out of the way, and no one dared to step forward to say anything. This lack of protest made Xingge feel vindicated. Upon returning home, he summoned a go-between and sold the two maids. As for the sixteen trunks of various sizes stored upstairs, he did not open any of them but wrote thirty-two sealing strips and sealed them in crisscross fashion, two to each trunk. Why did he do so? It was because, as a matter of fact, Jiang Xingge had been deeply in love with his wife. True, he had divorced her in a moment of anger, but his heart was twisted with pain. He could hardly bear the sight of anything that would remind him of her.

Let us pick up another thread of the story and tell of a man with a jinshi degree by the name of Wu Jie, a native of Nanjing, who was passing by Xiangyang in a boat on his way to Chaoyang County, Guangdong, to assume his newly assigned post of county magistrate. He did not bring his wife and children, and had a mind to find himself a beautiful concubine. None of the many women he saw along the way struck his fancy. Having heard that the daughter of Mr. Wang of Zaoyang County was known throughout the county for her beauty, he sought the services of a go-between and made a marriage proposal along with an o er of fifty taels of gold as a gift. Mr. Wang would have gladly accepted the proposal, but, afraid that his former son-in-law would be against the idea, he went to the Jiang household and acquainted Xingge with the fact. Xingge raised no objections.

On the eve of the wedding, Xingge hired some help and had the stillsealed and untouched sixteen trunks delivered, along with the keys, as the bride’s dowry onto Magistrate Wu’s boat to be handed over to Sanqiao. (An act of kindness.) She was overwhelmed with the sense that she did not deserve such generosity. When the story got around, some praised Xingge for his kindness, some laughed and called him a fool, and there were also those who despised him for his softness. So di erent indeed are human hearts.

Let us get on with our story. Chen Dalang, after having disposed of all of his merchandise in Suzhou, returned to Xin’an County, his mind still filled with thoughts about Sanqiao. The sight of the pearl shirt morning and night prompted him to sigh with emotion. Her suspicions aroused, his wife Ping-shi quietly took it away while he was asleep and hid it above the ceiling. When he rose in the morning without being able to find the shirt that he wanted to put on, he asked his wife for it, but she stoutly denied any knowledge of it. He flew into a rage and ransacked all boxes and chests. When the search proved to be futile, he let loose a torrent of angry words at his wife, who tearfully answered back, and the quarrel lasted for two to three days. Finally, in agitation, he hurriedly put together some money and, taking a page boy with him, set out on a journey back to Xiangyang.

When approaching Zaoyang, he ran into a gang of robbers, who not only made o with all of his capital, but also killed the page boy. Being keen of eye, Chen Dalang hid himself behind the rudder at the stern of the boat and was thus able to survive. Now that he could not a ord the journey home, he planned to stay in the inn where he had stayed before, ask for a loan from Sanqiao, and start building his business anew. With a sigh, he stepped o the boat and went ashore.

To Mr. Lü, his landlord, who lived outside the Zaoyang city gate, he gave an account of what had happened and said that he wanted to ask Granny Xue, who was in the pearl business, to borrow some money on his behalf from some acquaintances. “You may not have heard about it,” said Mr. Lü, “but that old woman caused a scandal by corrupting Jiang Xingge’s wife. Last year when Xingge returned home, he asked his wife for some sort of pearl shirt, but she could not come up with an answer because she had, in fact, given it away to some lover of hers. Xingge divorced her then and there and sent her back to her parents. She has now remarried and is the second wife of jinshi Wu of Nanjing. As for the old woman, Jiang Xingge had her house smashed so badly that not a piece of roof tile was spared. Knowing that she would be given no peace, the old woman has moved to a neighboring county.”

Chen Dalang was so shocked by these words that he felt as if a bucketful of icy water had been dumped on his head. That night, he fell ill with bouts of heat and cold. Brought on partly by depression, partly by lovesickness, and partly by the shock, the illness, with some symptoms of consumption, kept him confined to bed for over two months, with frequent improvements and relapses. With full recovery beyond sight, even the landlord’s page boy attending to his needs ran out of patience. Feeling apologetic, Chen Dalang mustered enough strength to write a letter home. He then asked his landlord to find someone who happened to be available to deliver the letter and bring him back some traveling money along with a kinsman to take care of him. This was exactly what Mr. Lü wanted to hear. It so happened that there was an official courier, an acquaintance of Mr. Lü’s, who was passing by Zaoyang on his way by land as well as water routes to the Huizhou and Ningzhou region to deliver official documents. To have mail delivered by him would be as quick as could be. Mr. Lü took Chen Dalang’s letter and gave it to the courier, along with half a tael of silver on Dalang’s behalf, asking him to deliver the letter at his convenience. Indeed, as the saying goes, “A lone traveler goes at his own pace; a courier goes with the speed of fire.” In a matter of days, the courier arrived in Xin’an County and asked his way to Chen Dalang’s house. After delivering the letter, he mounted his horse and galloped away.

Truly,

When Ping-shi opened the letter, she recognized the handwriting to be her husband’s. The letter said,

Ping-shi did not quite believe it. She thought to herself, “The last time he came back, he claimed to have lost as much capital as a thousand taels of gold. That pearl shirt must have been acquired by some improper means. And now he has come up with this story of a robbery to ask for as much travel money as possible. He must be lying.” Then another thought struck her: “If he wants some trusted relative to go quickly to see him, he must be gravely ill. That part might be the truth, for all I know. Now, of whom can I ask the favor?” She kept turning the matter over and over in her mind, but, unable to put her mind at ease, she took the counsel of her father, Squire Ping. Then she put together some valuables, took with her the servant Chen Wang and his wife, and, in the company of her father, hired a boat and headed for Xiangyang to see her husband for herself. When they reached Jingkou,¹⁸ Squire Ping su ered an attack of bronchitis and was escorted back home. Ping-shi and the Chen couple continued on the journey upstream.

Before many days had passed, they arrived at the city gate of Zaoyang and asked their way to Mr. Lü’s house. It turned out that Chen Dalang had died ten days before. With a little of his own money, Mr. Lü had perfunctorily put the body in a coffin. Ping-shi cried until she collapsed to the ground, and remained unconscious for a considerable while. Upon coming to, she made haste to change into mourning clothes and repeatedly pleaded with Mr. Lü to open the coffin for her to see her husband once more and to transfer the body into a better coffin. Mr. Lü would not hear of it. Left with no alternative, Ping-shi could do no more than buy some boards to serve as an outer shell of the coffin. She also engaged some monks for a sutra-chanting service and burned an abundance of paper money for the benefit of the deceased. Having already obtained from her twenty taels of silver as a token of gratitude for his help, Mr. Lü said nothing to all this ado.

More than a month later, Ping-shi announced that she would like to select a propitious day and escort the coffin back home. Believing that the woman was too young, attractive, and well-provided-for to remain a widow for the rest of her life, Mr. Lü had a mind to keep her as wife for his yet-unbetrothed son Lü Er. Wouldn’t that be lovely on both counts? He bought some wine, treated Chen Wang to a drink, and asked Chen Wang’s wife, with promises of a handsome reward, to put the proposal tactfully to Ping-shi. Being a stupid woman, Chen Wang’s wife thoughtlessly blurted out everything to her mistress. After all, what did she know about tact? Ping-shi was incensed. She gave the woman a tongue-lashing and a few slaps on the face. Even Mr. Lü was not spared a few scathing remarks from her. The humiliation reduced Mr. Lü to a resentful silence. Truly,

As a consequence, Mr. Lü urged Chen Wang to run away. For his part, Chen Wang also thought that to stay on would not be to his advantage any more. He took counsel with his wife. Under his instructions and with his collaboration, she stole all of Ping-shi’s money and jewelry, and then the couple slipped away under cover of night. Knowing full well what had happened, Mr. Lü turned around and blamed Ping-shi for having brought along such scoundrels. “Luckily,” he went on to say, “they stole only from their mistress. Wouldn’t it look bad if they had stolen from someone else!” Then, complaining that the coffin was scaring his customers away, he told Ping-shi to have it removed as soon as possible. He added that, this being the wrong place for a young widow to stay, she would do well to leave. Under such pressure, Ping-shi resignedly rented a room elsewhere and hired some men to move the coffin there. Her plight hardly needs further description here.

Next door to her lived a Seventh Aunt Zhang, who was quite a sociable woman. Ping-shi’s sobs frequently drew her over to o er words of comfort. She also often did Ping-shi the favor of pawning some of the latter’s clothes in exchange for daily expenses, for which Ping-shi was deeply grateful. In a matter of a few months, all of her clothes had been pawned. Being good at sewing, a skill that she had acquired at an early age, Ping-shi began to consider making a living by teaching sewing skills to rich men’s daughters before deciding what to do next. When she asked Seventh Aunt Zhang for advice, the latter said, “I don’t know how to put this, but a rich man’s house is not the best place for a young woman like you. The dead are dead and gone, which is too bad for them, but the living need to get on with their lives. You have a good part of your life ahead of you. You can’t be a seamstress for some rich household until the end of your days, can you? It’s such a lowly position that you’ll be looked down upon. Also, what are you going to do about the coffin? That’s another important thing you need to take care of. Even if you go on paying rent for it, that’s no solution in the long run.”

“I have also thought about all this,” said Ping-shi, “but I can’t come up with a better idea.”

“I have an idea,” said Seventh Aunt Zhang. “Don’t take o ense if I say so, but, for a penniless lonely widow a thousand li from home, to escort the coffin back is nothing but a lot of wishful thinking. Widowhood won’t be easily maintained when daily subsistence is uncertain. But even if you do hold out for some time, what good will it do to you? As I see it, the best thing to do is to find a good match while your youth and good looks last, and give yourself up to him. Betrothal gifts can be used for their cash value to buy a piece of land to bury your husband in. Thus your future will be secure, and you’ll have no regrets, dead or alive.”

Convinced by her reasoning, Ping-shi reflected for some time before she answered with a sigh, “Oh well, to sell myself in order to bury my husband shouldn’t be cause for ridicule.”

“If you’ve made up your mind, I do happen to have someone for you. He’s about your age. A decent man, and quite wealthy, too.”

“If he’s that wealthy, I’m afraid he won’t take someone who’s been married before.”

“He’s also been married before. He told me that he doesn’t mind if the woman is marrying for the first time or not, as long as she is of uncommon beauty. Your looks should be attractive enough to impress him.”

As a matter of fact, Jiang Xingge had indeed asked Seventh Aunt Zhang to find him a good match. As his ex-wife was a ravishing beauty, he was looking for someone as pretty. Ping-shi might not have been as beautiful as Sanqiao but was the better of the two when it came to matters of the mind and the finger.

The following day, Seventh Aunt Zhang went into town and told Jiang Xingge about the matter. Upon learning that Ping-shi was from the lower reaches of the Yangzi River, Xingge was all the more delighted. For a wedding gift Ping-shi wanted only what was necessary for the purchase of a nice plot of land for the burial of her husband. After Seventh Aunt Zhang shuttled back and forth quite a few times, both sides agreed to the deal.

To make a long story short, Ping-shi watched the lowering of the coffin into the pit, and, after the funeral, she shed bitter tears, removed Chen Dalang’s spirit tablet, and took o her mourning clothes. As the wedding day drew near, Jiang Xingge sent over clothes and jewelry and redeemed all the clothes that she had pawned. On their wedding night, as was usual with wedding festivities, candles decorated with designs of dragons and phoenixes were lit in the bridal chamber amid the musical fanfare of a band. Truly,

Ping-shi’s gentle manners won much respect from Jiang Xingge. One day, returning home from outside, he found Ping-shi sorting out a trunk of clothes. Among the clothes, he recognized the pearl shirt. In astonishment, he asked, “Where did you get this shirt?”

“There’s something strange about it.” She then launched into an account of how her ex-husband had carried on about it, and how they had parted in anger after many harsh words. She continued, “When I was hard up some time ago, I thought several times of pawning it, but I was afraid of bringing it into the open, because its questionable origin might have gotten me into trouble. To this day, I have no idea where it came from.”

“Was your ex-husband Chen Dalang, also called Chen Shang? Did he have a fair complexion? No beard? Long fingernails on his left hand?”

“Exactly.”

Sticking out his tongue, Jiang Xingge joined his palms and looked up to the sky. “It’s all too clear that heavenly principles have been at work,” he exclaimed. “How fearsome!” Ping-shi asked why he said such a thing. “This pearl shirt,” he explained, “was an heirloom of my family. Your husband seduced my wife and got the shirt from her as a keepsake. I didn’t know anything about the a air until I saw the shirt when I met him in Suzhou. I divorced Wang-shi as soon as I returned home. Who would have foreseen that your husband would die on the road? When I remarried, I heard only that you were the ex-wife of a Mr. Chen, a merchant of Huizhou. Who would have guessed that he was none other than Chen Shang! Isn’t this a heavenly retribution?”

These words made Ping-shi’s hair stand on end, as a sense of awe swept over her. Henceforth, they grew even fonder of each other. This, then, is what basically constitutes our story “Jiang Xingge Reencounters His Pearl Shirt.” As the poem says,

But the story continues. With a wife to take care of the household, Jiang Xingge set o a year later for Guangdong again on another business journey. This was one of those occasions when something was destined to happen. One day when he was in Hepu County¹⁹ trading in pearls, a deal had already been struck when his client, an old man, stole a pearl of enormous size and refused to admit the theft. In anger, Xingge grabbed him by his sleeves in an attempt to search him, but the sheer force of the move brought the old man down to the ground. As the old man lay there without making a sound, Xingge hurried to help him up, only to find him dead. The old man’s family and close neighbors rushed over, some weeping, some screaming, and seized Xingge. Without allowing a word of explanation, they gave him a sound beating and locked him up in an empty room. That very night, they wrote an official complaint and, after daybreak, took the defendant as well as the letter of complaint to the county magistrate’s morning court session. The magistrate accepted the case, but, as there was other official business at hand, he had the accused locked up to await trial the next day.

Who, you may ask, was this county magistrate? Named Wu Jie, he was a jinshi of the greater Nanjing area. He was none other than Sanqiao’s second husband. He originally had been assigned to a post in Chaoyang, but, as his superiors found him free from corruption, he was transferred, as a promotion, to the pearl-producing region of Hepu County. That night, Wu Jie was carefully reading by lamplight the accepted letter of complaint when Sanqiao, looking idly over his shoulders, happened to see these words: “The homicide case of Song Fu against Luo De, merchant of Zaoyang.” Who could this Luo De be but Jiang Xingge? As memories of the happy marriage came flooding back to her, she appealed to her husband tearfully, her heart stricken with pain: “This Luo De is my older brother, who was brought up by my maternal uncle of the Luo family. I little expected that he would commit such a major crime while traveling on the road. For my sake, please spare his life and let him go back home.”

“That’ll have to depend on how the trial goes. If he is indeed guilty of murder, I can’t be lenient with him.”

Her eyes brimming over with tears, Sanqiao fell to her knees and pleaded piteously on behalf of the accused.

“Don’t be so upset yet,” said the magistrate. “I know what to do.”

The following morning, as he was about to go to his court session, Sanqiao again grabbed him by his sleeve and said sobbingly, “If my brother’s life is not spared, I will surely kill myself. You won’t see me again.”

That day when the county magistrate assumed the bench in his court, the first case he took up was the one involving Jiang Xingge. The brothers Song Fu and Song Shou tearfully pleaded that the murderer of their father should pay with his life. “Our father,” they said, “was struck unconscious by the defendant in a dispute about some pearls and fell dead on the spot. Please do right by us, Your Honor.” As the county magistrate took testimony from witnesses, some said the old man was knocked down and others said he fell when pushed. Jiang Xingge said in defense of himself, “Their father stole a pearl from me. I got into an argument with him in anger. Being an old man, he was not too steady of foot and fell to his own death. I had nothing to do with it.”

The magistrate asked Song Fu, “How old was your father?”

“Sixty-seven.”

“Elderly people faint easily without necessarily having to be hit,” said the magistrate.

Song Fu and Song Shou insisted that their father was killed by the blow from Jiang Xingge.

“Whether there are injuries or not needs to be verified by a postmortem. Since you insist that he was killed, the corpse shall be sent away to the county mortuary and judgment will be made during the evening session of the court.”

As a matter of fact, the Songs were a prominent and respected family. The sons could hardly allow the body of their father, once a neighborhood alderman, to be exposed for autopsy in a mortuary. They pleaded while kowtowing, “There are many witnesses to our father’s death. We request that the post-mortem be done in our home rather than in a public place.”

The magistrate said, “Without evidence of injuries to the bones, the accused will hardly admit to his crime, will he? Without duly filled-out forms of postmortem results, I can’t report to my superiors, can I?” As the two brothers continued their entreaties, the county magistrate flew into a rage. “If you refuse to have a postmortem done, I can hardly try this case.”

In panic, the brothers kowtowed repeatedly and said, “We will go by whatever ruling you make, Your Honor.”

“For a sexagenarian,” said the magistrate, “death is only to be expected. Suppose he did not die from a blow and an innocent man is wrongly accused. That would only serve to add to the sins of the dead. Your father lived to a venerable old age, something that you, as sons, had hoped for. Now, you wouldn’t want to give him the bad reputation of having died a violent death, would you? However, though your father was not killed intentionally, he was indeed pushed. If Luo De is not severely punished, you would hardly feel avenged. Therefore, my judgment is for him to put on mourning clothes, observe the rituals in a manner befitting a son, and defray all expenses for the funeral. Will you be content with that?”

“We will not presume to be otherwise, Your Honor,” said the brothers.

Xingge was overjoyed at the unexpectedly forthright verdict reached without resorting to corporeal punishment. The defendant as well as the plainti s kowtowed in gratitude. The county magistrate went on, “Nor will I commit my judgment to paper. I will have the defendant escorted out of the court by lictors who will report back to me after what needs to be done is done. At that time, I will remove the original complaint from the file.” Truly,

While her husband was in court, Sanqiao was as anxious as if she were on pins and needles. No sooner had she heard that the court session was over than she stepped forward to ask about what had transpired. The county magistrate said, “I made such-and-such a verdict. For your sake, I didn’t put him to even one stroke of the rod.”

Profuse with thanks, Sanqiao said, “After such a long separation, I am dying to see my brother to ask him how my parents are. I would be greatly obliged if you could be so kind as to arrange for us to meet.”

“That can be easily done.”

Dear audience, you may well ask how come Sanqiao was still so full of a ection for Jiang Xingge, when she should have severed all emotional ties with the man who divorced her. The truth is that the couple had been as loving as could be. It was because of Sanqiao’s misdemeanor that Xingge divorced her against his inclinations. In fact, he felt so sorry that he gave her back all the sixteen trunks intact on the night of her second wedding. Just this gesture alone was enough to melt Sanqiao’s heart. Now that she was living in the midst of wealth and honor, and he was in distress, she could hardly do anything else than extend a helping hand. This is a case of returning kindness for kindness.

Now, Jiang Xingge followed the county magistrate’s judgment and carefully fulfilled the ceremonial requirements asked of him, sparing no expense. The Song brothers found themselves without cause for complaint. After the funeral was over, Jiang Xingge returned under guard to the magistrate’s court for a report. The county magistrate summoned him into the private quarters of his yamen, granted him a seat, and said, “My brother-in-law, I might have treated you unfairly in the lawsuit if your younger sister had not pleaded hard for you.” With no inkling as to what he was talking about, Xingge was at a loss for an answer.

A moment later when they finished their tea, the county magistrate invited him into the study in the inner quarters of the yamen and called forth his concubine to greet the guest. This all too unexpected reunion was indeed as unreal as a dream. Without a salute or a word, the two of them fell into a tight embrace with loud sobs that were more heartrending than those ever heard at the funeral of a father or a mother. Overcome with pity, the county magistrate, who was standing on one side, said, “Please do not grieve so. I don’t think you look like brother and sister. Tell me the truth; I’ll help you out.”

The two of them were so shaken by the violent shudders of weeping that neither was ready to speak. However, under the county magistrate’s pressing questions, Sanqiao had no other choice but to fall on her knees to say, “I deserve to die ten thousand times for my sins, for this man is, in fact, my ex-husband.”

Knowing that the truth was not to be concealed any longer, Jiang Xingge also dropped to his knees and gave a full account of their loving marriage, the divorce, and the remarrying on both sides. Having poured out the story, the two of them again fell into a tearful embrace. Even County Magistrate Wu found his own tears streaming down. “How can I bring myself to separate such a loving couple?” he said. “Luckily, no child was born during these three years. You may go together this very moment and resume your marriage.” The couple took deep bows in gratitude.

With all speed, the county magistrate hired a small sedan-chair and saw Sanqiao out of the yamen. He then had some laborers carry all the sixteen trunks of dowry over to Jiang Xingge and sent a subordinate official to escort the couple out of the county. Such was the immense kindness of County Magistrate Wu. Verily,

He had never had a son, but, later, after his transfer to the Ministry of Personnel, he took a concubine who bore him three sons in succession. All three were successful in the imperial examinations. This was believed to be a blessing for the good deeds he had done. But this is no immediate concern of ours here.

Let us return to Jiang Xingge, who took Sanqiao back home and introduced her to Ping-shi. If the first marriage were taken into consideration, Sanqiao would have taken precedence over Ping-shi. However, she had been divorced, whereas Ping-shi was married to Jiang Xingge through the mediation of a go-between, as required by proper etiquette. Moreover, Ping-shi was one year older. Therefore, Ping-shi took the position of first wife and Sanqiao became the second wife. With the two women addressing each other as “Sister,” the threesome lived happily ever after, as this poem attests: