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Authors: Pauline A. Chen
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ridiculous. She isn’t really a southerner. Her mother was your Aunt Min, after all. They only moved south for her father’s posting.”
“Still, there’s something about her. Uncle Lin is a southerner, isn’t he?”
She wipes the rose-orris off her hands, and rolls out the bedding for him. “Why don’t you lie down now?”
He stretches out in his underclothes, but instead of shutting his eyes he looks at her.
“What is it?” she says, with a sense of foreboding.
He looks away from her. “How long has it been since your miscarriage?” he asks abruptly.
The mention of her miscarriage makes her wince. She knows what is coming and is filled with a dread bordering on panic. “A year and four months.”
“It’s been longer than that, hasn’t it? I’d say it was almost two years.”
“No, it happened last spring. I remember because Baoyu was thinking about taking the Exams, and then he got sick—”
He puts up his hand as if he does not have patience to hear the details. “I think I should get a concubine.”
She puts her arms around his neck and buries her head in his chest. “No, please. Give me just a little bit longer. Dr. Wang gave me some medicine, and I’m taking it every month—”
“No, listen.” He grips her shoulders so she is forced to look him in the face. “You always act like it’s an attack against you, for me to get another wife, but it’s not. If she has a child, it will still be considered our child, yours and mine. You’ll still be called ‘Mother’ and—”
She wrenches herself away, shaking her head. Having grown up in the Wang mansion, she knows what happens when a principal wife cannot bear children. The husband marries again, and favors the concubines who bear him sons. The sons grow older, and make every effort to promote their birth mothers, while resenting the principal wife, whom theyare forced to call “Mother.” Meanwhile, everyone sneers at her barrenness behind her back. The fact that she retains the trappings and title of motherhood only makes things worse.
She clings to Lian’s arm. “Please, give me just a little longer. Two years—”
He pulls his arm away. “Then what? I promised you one year already, and now you’re begging for another. It is not as if you won’t be able to have a child even if I marry again—”
She shakes her head vehemently, grabbing his arm again. She knows that if he gets a concubine, she will have to compete with a younger, fresher girl. If she cannot conceive now, how much harder will it be when he sleeps with her only occasionally? The tears are starting to stream down her face, even though she hates to cry in front of him.
He pulls away from her again. “And then what?” he repeats. “How much longer do I have to wait?”
She feels all the old grief welling up inside her. “You never cared that I lost the baby,” she says. She remembers the way he had gone to look at the small, bloody creature in the basin. He used his forefinger to part its legs, and had walked away without a word when he saw that it was a girl. She has never forgiven him.
He does not bother to respond to her accusation. “It’s no use pleading. I’ve made up my mind.” He dresses quickly and walks out of the room.
After he has gone, she sits for a long time, trying to stop herself from crying. When she looks at her watch, she sees that it is already past three o’clock. Granny should be up from her nap by now. She feels a ray of hope. Surely Granny will side with her favorite. Without washing her face or fixing her makeup, Xifeng hurries to Lady Jia’s bedroom. Lady Jia is sitting up in bed with her iron-gray hair still down, while Snowgoose massages her legs. Xifeng climbs onto the kang , kneeling before Granny.
“Granny.” It occurs to her that Lady Jia will not be able to see the tearstains on her face, so she starts to sob again.
“Whatever is the matter, Xifeng?”
She continues to cry.
Granny puts a gnarled hand on
“Still, there’s something about her. Uncle Lin is a southerner, isn’t he?”
She wipes the rose-orris off her hands, and rolls out the bedding for him. “Why don’t you lie down now?”
He stretches out in his underclothes, but instead of shutting his eyes he looks at her.
“What is it?” she says, with a sense of foreboding.
He looks away from her. “How long has it been since your miscarriage?” he asks abruptly.
The mention of her miscarriage makes her wince. She knows what is coming and is filled with a dread bordering on panic. “A year and four months.”
“It’s been longer than that, hasn’t it? I’d say it was almost two years.”
“No, it happened last spring. I remember because Baoyu was thinking about taking the Exams, and then he got sick—”
He puts up his hand as if he does not have patience to hear the details. “I think I should get a concubine.”
She puts her arms around his neck and buries her head in his chest. “No, please. Give me just a little bit longer. Dr. Wang gave me some medicine, and I’m taking it every month—”
“No, listen.” He grips her shoulders so she is forced to look him in the face. “You always act like it’s an attack against you, for me to get another wife, but it’s not. If she has a child, it will still be considered our child, yours and mine. You’ll still be called ‘Mother’ and—”
She wrenches herself away, shaking her head. Having grown up in the Wang mansion, she knows what happens when a principal wife cannot bear children. The husband marries again, and favors the concubines who bear him sons. The sons grow older, and make every effort to promote their birth mothers, while resenting the principal wife, whom theyare forced to call “Mother.” Meanwhile, everyone sneers at her barrenness behind her back. The fact that she retains the trappings and title of motherhood only makes things worse.
She clings to Lian’s arm. “Please, give me just a little longer. Two years—”
He pulls his arm away. “Then what? I promised you one year already, and now you’re begging for another. It is not as if you won’t be able to have a child even if I marry again—”
She shakes her head vehemently, grabbing his arm again. She knows that if he gets a concubine, she will have to compete with a younger, fresher girl. If she cannot conceive now, how much harder will it be when he sleeps with her only occasionally? The tears are starting to stream down her face, even though she hates to cry in front of him.
He pulls away from her again. “And then what?” he repeats. “How much longer do I have to wait?”
She feels all the old grief welling up inside her. “You never cared that I lost the baby,” she says. She remembers the way he had gone to look at the small, bloody creature in the basin. He used his forefinger to part its legs, and had walked away without a word when he saw that it was a girl. She has never forgiven him.
He does not bother to respond to her accusation. “It’s no use pleading. I’ve made up my mind.” He dresses quickly and walks out of the room.
After he has gone, she sits for a long time, trying to stop herself from crying. When she looks at her watch, she sees that it is already past three o’clock. Granny should be up from her nap by now. She feels a ray of hope. Surely Granny will side with her favorite. Without washing her face or fixing her makeup, Xifeng hurries to Lady Jia’s bedroom. Lady Jia is sitting up in bed with her iron-gray hair still down, while Snowgoose massages her legs. Xifeng climbs onto the kang , kneeling before Granny.
“Granny.” It occurs to her that Lady Jia will not be able to see the tearstains on her face, so she starts to sob again.
“Whatever is the matter, Xifeng?”
She continues to cry.
Granny puts a gnarled hand on
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