Six Records of a Floating Life (Chapter one: Wedded Bliss 10)

    My father Chiafu was very fond of adopting children; hence I had twenty-six adopted brothers. My mother, too, had nine adopted daughters, among whom Miss Wang, the second, and Miss Yu, the sixth, were Yun's best friends.

    Wang was a kind of a tomboy and a great drinker, while Yu was straightforward and very fond of talking. When they came together, they used to chase me out, so that the three of them could sleep in the same bed. I knew Miss Yu was responsible for this, and once I said to her in fun, "When you get married. I am going to invite your husband to come and keep him for ten days at a stretch." I'll come here, too, then," said Miss Yu, "and sleep in the same bed with Yun. Won't that be fun?" At this Yun and Wang merely smiled. At this time, my younger brother Ch'it'ang was going to get married, and we moved to Ts'angmi Alley by the Bridge of Drinking Horses. The house was quite big, but not so nice and secluded as the one by the Ts'anglang Pavilion.

    On the birthday of my mother, we had theatrical performances at home, and Yun at first thought them quite wonderful. Scorning all taboos, my father asked for the performance of a scene called "Sad Parting," and the actors played so realistically that the audience were quite touched. I noticed across the screen that Yun suddenly got up and disappeared inside for a long time. I went in to see her and the Misses Yu and Wang also followed suit. There I saw Yun sitting alone before her dressing table, resting her head on an arm.

    "Why are you so sad?" I asked. “One sees a play for diversion," Yun said, "but today's play only breaks my heart. "Both Wang and Yu were laughing at her, but I defended her. "She is touched because hers is a profoundly emotional soul." “Are you going to sit here all day long?" asked Miss Yu. "I'll stay here until some better selection is being played, "Yun replied. Hearing this, Miss Wang left first and asked my mother to select more cheerful plays like Ch'ihliang and Househ. Then Yun was persuaded to come out and watch the play, which made her happy again.

    My uncle Such'in died early without an heir, and my father made me succeed his line. His tomb was situated on the Hill of Good Fortune and Longevity in Hsikuat'ang by the side of our ancestral tombs, and I was accustomed to go there with Yun and visit the grave every spring. As there was a beautiful garden called Koyuan in its neighbourhood, Miss Wang begged to come with us. Yun saw that the pebbles on this hill had beautiful grains of different colours, and said to me, "If we were to collect these pebbles and make them into a grotto, it would be even more artistic than one made of Hsuanchow stones." I expressed the fear that there might not be enough of this kind. "If Yun really likes them, I'll pick them for her," said Miss Wang. So she borrowed a bag from the watchman, and went along with a stork's strides collecting them. Whenever she picked up one, she would ask for my opinion. If I said “good," she would put it into the bag; and if I said “no," she would throw it away. She stood up before long and came back to us with the bag, perspiring all over. "My strength will fail me if I am going to pick any more," she said. "I have been told," said Yun, as she was selecting the good ones in the bag, "that mountain fruits must be gathered with the help of monkeys, which seems quite true." Miss Wang was furious and stretched both her hands as if to tease her. I stopped her and said to Yun by way of reproof, "You cannot blame her for being angry, because she is doing all the work and you stand by and say such unkind things.