ing and took off his long gown.
The young woman then heard the scholar’s wife scolding somebody outside the room.
Though she could not make out just who was being scolded, it seemed to be either the
kitchen-maid or herself. In her sorrow, the young woman began to suspect that it must be
herself, but the scholar, now lying in bed, said loudly,
“Don’t bother. She always grumbles like that. She likes our farm-hand very much,
and often scolds the kitchen-maid for chatting with him too much.”
Time passed quickly. The young woman’s thoughts of her old home gradually faded
as she became better and better acquainted with what went on in her new one. Sometimes
it seemed to her she heard Chun Bao’s muffled cries, and she dreamed of him several times.
But these dreams became more and more blurred as she became occupied with her new life.
Outwardly, the scholar’s wife was kind to her, but she felt that, deep inside, the elderly
woman was jealous and suspicious and that, like a detective, she was always spying to see
what was going on between the scholar and her. Sometimes, if the wife caught her husband
talking to the young woman on his return home, she would suspect that he had bought her
something special. She would call him to her bought her bedroom at night to give him a
good scolding. “So you’ve been seduced by the witch!” she would cry. “You should take
good care of your old carcase.” These abusive remarks the young woman overheard time
and again. After that, whenever she saw the scholar return home, she always tried to avoid
him if his wife was not present. But even in the presence of his wife, the young woman
considered it necessary to keep herself in the background. She had to do all this naturally
so that it would not be noticed by outsiders, for otherwise the wife would get angry and
blame her for purposely discrediting her in public. As time went on, the scholar’s wife
even made the young woman do the work of a maidservant. Once the young woman
decided to wash the elderly woman’s clothes.
“You’re not supposed to wash my clothes,” the scholar’s wife said. “In fact you can
have the kitchen-maid wash your own laundry. “ Yet the next moment she said,
“Sister dear, you’d better go to the pigsty and have a look at the two pigs which have
been grunting all the time. They’re probably hungry because the kitchen-maid never gives
them enough to eat.”
Eight months had passed and winter came. The young woman became fussy about her
food. She had little appetite for regular meals and always felt like eating something
different –noodles, potatoes and so on. But she soon got tired of noodles and potatoes,
and asked for wonton. When she ate a little too much she got sick. Then she felt a desire
for pumpkins and plums –things that could only be had in summer. The scholar knew what
all this meant. He kept smiling all day and gave her whatever was available. He went on
town himself to get her tangerines and asked someone to buy her some oranges. He often
paced up and down the veranda, muttering to himself. One day, he saw the young woman ^本^作^品^由^^網^提^供^下^載^與^在^線^閱^讀^
and the kitchen-maid grinding rice for the Spring Festival. They had hardly started
grinding when he said to the young woman, “You’d better have a rest now. We can let the
farm-hand do it, since everybody is going to eat the rice cakes.”
Sometimes in the evening, when the rest of the household were chatting, he would sit
alone near an oil lamp, reading the Book of Songs:
“Fair, Fair,” cry the ospreys
On the island in the river.
Lovely is the good lady,
Fit bride for our lord.
……………………… The farm-hand once asked him,
“Please, sir, what are reading this book for? You’re not going to sit for a higher civil
service examination, are you?”
The scholar stroked his beardless chin and said in a gay tone,
“Well, you know the joys of life, don’t you? There’s a saying that the greatest joy of
life is either to spend the firs