Six Records of a Floating Life (Chapter three: Ups and downs 01)

    Why is it that there are sorrows and hardships in this life? Usually they are due to one's own fault, but this was not the case with me.

    I was fond of friendship, proud of keeping my word, and by nature frank and straightforward, for which I eventually suffered. My father Chi-afu, too, was a very generous man; he used to help people in trouble, bring up other people's sons and marry off other people's daughters in innumerable instances, spending money like dirt, all for the sake of other people.

    My wife and I often had to pawn things when we were in need of money, and while at first we managed to make both ends meet, gradually our purse became thinner and thinner. As the proverb says, “To run a family and mix socially, money is the first essential. ” At first we incurred the criticism of the busybodies, and then even people of our own family began to make sarcastic remarks. Indeed "absence of talent in a woman is synonymous with virtue,” as the ancient proverb says.

    I was born the third son of my family, although the eldest; hence they used to call Yun "san niang" at home, but this was later suddenly changed into "san t' ait' ai." This began at first in fun, later became a general practice, and even relatives of all ranks, high and low, addressed her as "san t' ait' ai." I wonder if this was a sign of the beginning of family dissension.

    When I was staying with my father at the Haining yamen in 1785, Yun used to enclose personal letters of hers along with the regular family correspondence.

    Seeing this, my father said that, since Yun could write letters, she should be entrusted with the duty of writing letters for my mother. It happened that there was a little family gossip and my mother suspected that it had leaked out through Yun's letters, and stopped her writing. When my father saw that it was not Yun's handwriting, he asked me, “Is your wife sick?"

    I then wrote to enquire from her, but got no reply. After some time had elapsed, my father was angry with her and spoke to me, "Your wife seems to think it beneath her to write letters for your mother!" 

    Afterwards when I came home, I found out the reason and proposed to explain the matter, but Yun stopped me, saying,"I would rather be blamed by father than incur the displeasure of mother." And the matter was not cleared up at all.

    In the spring of 1790, I again accompanied my father to the magistrate's office at Hankiang [Yangchow]. There was a colleague by the name of Yu Fout'ing, who was staying with his family there.

    One day, my father said to Fout'ing, "I have been living all my life away from home, and have found it very difficult to find some one to look after my personal comforts. If my son would sympathize with me, he should try to look for one from my home district, so that there will be no dialect difficulty. "