what to make of the magistrate’s about-face, Jia Zheng hesitates. “You are taking so much trouble on our behalf. Surely there is something we can do for you—”
Jia Yucun cuts him off sharply, drawing himself up. “I am simply doing my duty. There is absolutely no need to offer me anything. I should not accept it in any case.”
While no one would accept a bribe outright, Jia Yucun’s response seems unequivocal enough to be a true refusal. Jia Zheng gives him credit for being sufficiently shrewd not to risk his career for a few thousand taels .
Jia Yucun returns to the examination of the documents before him. He nods dismissal to Jia Zheng. “Remember what I said. Come back in a few days.”
8
When Xifeng falls behind on household tasks, she works without resting through the period after lunch when everyone else naps. Even Ping’er, who has a headache, is lying down in her small bedroom behind Xifeng’s apartments. Xifeng sits at her desk, piled high with cloth-covered ledgers, adding up household expenditures on coal for the last month, her fingers swiftly clicking the wooden beads of her abacus. There is a cough at the door. She looks up.
It is Mrs. Lai, one of the head stewardesses. “The gatewomen told me you would be here giving out tallies.”
“What do you need?”
Mrs. Lai hands her a sheet of paper requesting permission to order paper for the windows of Baoyu’s study in the outer part of the mansion. Xifeng checks the amount of paper requested before copying down the quantity in one of the ledgers. She opens a locked box on the desk and takes out a tally.
“Go ahead and order it.” She hands the small wooden tally to Mrs. Lai. “But remember, I won’t give you the tally to authorize payment until the goods have been received.”
“Of course. I’ll bring you the receipt when the paper comes.”
“One more thing. Could you send Autumn to me?”
When Mrs. Lai returns with Autumn, one of the junior maids in the apartments, a single glance confirms Xifeng’s suspicions. Autumn does not dare to meet her eyes, her expression at once fearful and defiant.
Xifeng leans back in her chair, watching the maid. “This is the second time something has gone missing after your shift.” She catches a twitch of fear in the maid’s thin body, hastily suppressed.
“First, it was two dozen candles,” Xifeng continues. “Now it’s more than a pound of soap. Perhaps you think that because there are so many costly things lying around, no one will notice if some of them disappear.”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Lian. Truly, I have no idea where those things went. Maybe somebody else took them.”
“Somebody else indeed!” Mrs. Lai snorts. “All the other maids havebeen here more than two or three years. Things only started disappearing after you came!”
It is true. They never had problems of this sort until four or five months ago, when Granny Jia had given Autumn to Xifeng. Granny had imagined that Autumn would be a good maid—she is unusually pretty, and quick-witted, and well-spoken. Xifeng has always disliked her long, sideways-glancing eyes, but because she was Lady Jia’s gift, it is impossible to dismiss her.
Lian walks in. He almost never comes home to the apartments before dinner. “What’s the matter?” she says, jumping up.
“Nothing. I’m just tired. I’m going to take a nap.”
He disappears down the hallway to their bedroom.
Xifeng turns back to Autumn. “I told you the last time what would happen if something disappeared again.” She looks at Mrs. Lai. “Give her twenty strokes of the bamboo, and stop a month of her wages.”
Autumn falls to her knees and starts to beg and weep.
“If you make such a fuss about it, I’ll make it thirty. Now take her away.”
Mrs. Lai leads Autumn away. Xifeng notes the deduction in Autumn’s salary in one of the ledgers, scrupulously adding the amount back into the operating expenses for the month. She knows many people in her place would
Jia Yucun cuts him off sharply, drawing himself up. “I am simply doing my duty. There is absolutely no need to offer me anything. I should not accept it in any case.”
While no one would accept a bribe outright, Jia Yucun’s response seems unequivocal enough to be a true refusal. Jia Zheng gives him credit for being sufficiently shrewd not to risk his career for a few thousand taels .
Jia Yucun returns to the examination of the documents before him. He nods dismissal to Jia Zheng. “Remember what I said. Come back in a few days.”
8
When Xifeng falls behind on household tasks, she works without resting through the period after lunch when everyone else naps. Even Ping’er, who has a headache, is lying down in her small bedroom behind Xifeng’s apartments. Xifeng sits at her desk, piled high with cloth-covered ledgers, adding up household expenditures on coal for the last month, her fingers swiftly clicking the wooden beads of her abacus. There is a cough at the door. She looks up.
It is Mrs. Lai, one of the head stewardesses. “The gatewomen told me you would be here giving out tallies.”
“What do you need?”
Mrs. Lai hands her a sheet of paper requesting permission to order paper for the windows of Baoyu’s study in the outer part of the mansion. Xifeng checks the amount of paper requested before copying down the quantity in one of the ledgers. She opens a locked box on the desk and takes out a tally.
“Go ahead and order it.” She hands the small wooden tally to Mrs. Lai. “But remember, I won’t give you the tally to authorize payment until the goods have been received.”
“Of course. I’ll bring you the receipt when the paper comes.”
“One more thing. Could you send Autumn to me?”
When Mrs. Lai returns with Autumn, one of the junior maids in the apartments, a single glance confirms Xifeng’s suspicions. Autumn does not dare to meet her eyes, her expression at once fearful and defiant.
Xifeng leans back in her chair, watching the maid. “This is the second time something has gone missing after your shift.” She catches a twitch of fear in the maid’s thin body, hastily suppressed.
“First, it was two dozen candles,” Xifeng continues. “Now it’s more than a pound of soap. Perhaps you think that because there are so many costly things lying around, no one will notice if some of them disappear.”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Lian. Truly, I have no idea where those things went. Maybe somebody else took them.”
“Somebody else indeed!” Mrs. Lai snorts. “All the other maids havebeen here more than two or three years. Things only started disappearing after you came!”
It is true. They never had problems of this sort until four or five months ago, when Granny Jia had given Autumn to Xifeng. Granny had imagined that Autumn would be a good maid—she is unusually pretty, and quick-witted, and well-spoken. Xifeng has always disliked her long, sideways-glancing eyes, but because she was Lady Jia’s gift, it is impossible to dismiss her.
Lian walks in. He almost never comes home to the apartments before dinner. “What’s the matter?” she says, jumping up.
“Nothing. I’m just tired. I’m going to take a nap.”
He disappears down the hallway to their bedroom.
Xifeng turns back to Autumn. “I told you the last time what would happen if something disappeared again.” She looks at Mrs. Lai. “Give her twenty strokes of the bamboo, and stop a month of her wages.”
Autumn falls to her knees and starts to beg and weep.
“If you make such a fuss about it, I’ll make it thirty. Now take her away.”
Mrs. Lai leads Autumn away. Xifeng notes the deduction in Autumn’s salary in one of the ledgers, scrupulously adding the amount back into the operating expenses for the month. She knows many people in her place would
Similar Books
