Chin Li-yu (Golden Carp) had a fine, pleated skirt.
On the center area of the front panel of the imported crimson-satin fabric were embroidered the four Chinese characters, Hsi Chueh Teng Mei (Auspicious Magpies Alighting on a Chinese Apricot Tree).
Golden Carp was enchanted with apricot flowers, and every corner of the skirt's front was decorated with them. Altogether, no less than ninety-nine glittered on the gleaming red fabric.
A pair of auspicious magpies rested on the apricot branch; the bearing and colors of each could not have been better matched. Their long tails projected upwards-heads in black, backs in purplish green, bellies white. The blossom clusters looked as if someone had spread them on the satin. To the sides of the blossom panel, embroidered butterflies threaded through flowers. All was bordered with ju yi patterns.
Just pulled from its resting place in the old camphorwood trunk, the skirt, flashing with red highlights, was now smoothed out on the big sofa.
Shanshan did not know what would be the best way to appreciate the gorgeous garment. Two hands lightly crossing her chest, she sighed excitedly, "Oh, look! The most gorgeous skirt I have ever seen!"
She stooped over to touch the blossoms, to flip the flat, neat pleats, and to trace with a fingertip the exquisite ornamental designs around the panels and hem. Shanshan's handling of the skirt was so delicately gentle it almost appeared she feared the delicate petals might fall. She slanted her head upwards, to ask in her special, innocently winsome way, "Mother, was this skirt your wedding garment?" Mother smiled and shook her head. And at this moment, Shanshan's father came in. His wife, glancing at him, replied to Shanshan, "On my wedding day, I wore a Western-style wedding gown."
"Then, who does this belong to?" Shanshan was lightly stroking the hem of the skirt.
"Ask your father," the woman said. The man was not paying attention to what his wife and his daughter were saying. He had come in for the evening paper. Only then, turning his head, did he notice something gleaming on the sofa. He manipulated his eyeglasses and took a good look at the object he had glimpsed. But he was unable to identify it.
"Father, who does this belong to? Did mother wear it on your wedding day?" Shanshan pressed him.
The man merely shook his head gently, without answering her. It might seem that the man had forgotten what his bride had worn on that auspicious day. Nevertheless, after pausing for a moment, he rolled it all over in his thoughts. Turning his head directly toward the skirt, he asked Shanshan's mother, "Where did you get it?"
"Where did I get it?" the woman smiled, but a smile perplexed-a riddle. Yet, she directly confided to Shanshan, "It belonged to your grandmother."
"It's Grandmother's? Oh, Grandmother wore it on her wedding day!" Shanshan was astonished and even more interested.
On hearing his wife say that the skirt had belonged to Shanshan's grandmother, the man put his head forward, put down his paper, and demanded of his wife, "Why did you take it from the trunk?"
"You'd better ask your daughter," the mother replied. She had first told her daughter to "ask your father," and then told her husband, "Ask your daughter." Actually, she had always liked to speak in riddles.
Shanshan both shrugged her shoulders and blinked her eyes, her face painted with fleeting, foreign expressions. Then she smiled, "A fashion show is to be the highlight of our school party for the graduates. They asked me to wear a wedding gown of the kind worn by brides in the early years of the Republic."
"Did brides then actually wear this kind of wedding dress?" the man asked his wife.
"Who knows. Anyway, I didn't wear such a wedding dress on my wedding day," Shanshan's mother was irritated at her husband for his muddle-headedness. He seemed to have forgotten everything.
"Father, don't you even remember?" Shanshan blurted straightforwardly ... and impolitely: "You were married in 1921. Then you went on to Japan alone for graduate studies. You didn't come back to mother until ten years later, Otherwise, my older brother and I would be ten years older than we are (her lips pouted). If he were born ten years earlier, he would be 40 now. I would be 28."
Hearing his daughter, the man laughed. But he did not say anything. The woman smiled too. But she also said nothing, just occupied herself trying to neatly fold the pleated skirt, which worried Shanshan, who quickly begged, "Please don't put it back in the trunk. I want to take it to school and practice how to walk in it."
Her mother responded, "You'd better think of some other way. I don't like your wearing it too much. It is very old now; we have bad it for more than 40 years."
Shanshan was not responsive. Twisting her body at the waist, she announced in a somewhat pettishly charming manner, "I want to show the skirt to my classmates, to tell them that this is the skirt my grandmother wore on her wedding day."
"Who told you that your grandmother once wore it? Your grandmother never wore it." Mother said the words casually. Shanshan showed her surprise, staring at her mother. The man, now a little, impatient, scolded his wife, "Why are you telling these meaningless things to a young girl?"
The woman would never forget about Grandmother. She said very often that it was because of Grandmother that Shanshan's father had finally returned, after being gone for ten years. Otherwise, Shanshan's younger brother would be nonexistent, let alone Shanshan.
The man, of course, would also never forget about Grandmother. It was because of her that he had made up his mind to study in Japan.
Here and now, few—might as well say "nobody"—knew of the grandmother of those years. Nor were they aware that Golden Carp had had a very fine, pleated skirt.
Mrs. Hsu loved to tell people, while pointing out Golden Carp: "Oh, she came to join our family at the age of six. But what could she do? On the contrary, I had to attend her, even combing out her hair into braids."
Mrs. Hsu always twined Golden Carp's hair into tight braids. She also kept the little girl under tight control. No one actually knew where Golden Carp really came from; they only knew that Mrs. Hsu had bought the girl at a time when her husband was serving in Chungming. However, Golden Carp was not born in that county, and it was even said that she had been brought there by someone from Chenkiang.
The little girl of six was sold to the Hsu family after having wandered about lost and homeless. She was a bright and lovable child. Although her status was now that of a serving maid, Golden Carp was treated as Mrs. Hsu's own daughter. Though the family had many slave girls, none was so valued as Golden Carp. She was first simply called Carp. But due to her favored position, some meddlesome people added the "Golden" prefix to her original name. From then on, it was always Golden Carp.
Mrs. Hsu gave birth to many daughters of her own—Eldest Daughter, Second Daughter, Third Daughter, Fourth Daughter, and the fifth-again a daughter. After Fifth Daughter, Mrs. Hsu simply stopped giving birth. And all the Hsu family members became worried. Her husband ranked high enough in the government so that if she did not give birth to a son, he would regret it. So for this reason, his mother, Madame Hsu the Elder, began thinking of finding a concubine for her son. Mrs. Hsu, was capable in everyway. But not in having sons.
Looking at her brood of daughters and finding one more beautiful than the other, Mrs. Hsu pondered the matter in her own mind: "If one were a son, and also as filled out and as fair as a glutinous rice ball, how different it would all be.... "
One day, Mrs. Hsu brought her five daughters and Golden Carp along to the sitting room to do needlework. She had invited Mrs. Kung to teach them fine sewing skills. Mrs. Kung was from Hunan Province and had come to Peking especially to do embroidery work for the Imperial Palace. But she also taught various Peking maidens her skills.
Mrs. Kung held that although designs in "Ku embroidery" achieved striking resemblances to real birds and animals, flowers and mountains, and even human figures, still, Hunan-style embroidery had its winning characteristics. Since the latter was now imbued with the essences of foreign embroidery techniques, it was considered not only novel, but more vivid. And that was why Mrs. Hsu had invited Mrs. Kung to teach her daughters.
Whenever Mrs. Kung appeared at the Hsu residence, the womenfolk there would feel bored no longer. She would often bring news about famous Palace personages, which outsiders could never know. So, her arrival and the circumstances of her teaching presented a special opportunity for the girls to enjoy friendly gossip.
That day, Mrs. Hsu and Mrs. Kung again mentioned the matter of the Master's intending to take a concubine. And unexpectedly, Mrs. Kung cast a sidelong glance at Golden Carp, and signaled with a twist of her lips, but did not say a word. Head lowered, Golden Carp was attentively tracing designs on a pure white, satin fabric. Though already sixteen, she was still quite small, yet smart as a pea is round. The moment Mrs. Hsu took note of the hint from Mrs. Kung, she also pondered Mrs. Kung's quickness of mind. "That's right! A likely 16-year-old girl is right in front of me! Why haven't I thought of it before?"
Golden Carp belonged to her, was obedient in all respects, and could not avoid her control. Golden Carp was the best choice as a concubine for the Master. When her train of thought focused on that point, Mrs. Hsu felt her mind drift in a new ease. For the sake of her mother-in-law's determination to find a concubine for her husband, Mrs. Hsu had become seriously depressed.
Joining the Hsu family at six, being taken as his concubine by Master Hsu at sixteen, Golden Carp, nevertheless, was still no taller now than the bookshelf in the Master's study. It didn't really matter, since she was only sixteen. She was still growing, after all. However, she did not become a mother till the end of the same year, though she was taken as a concubine at its beginning. But then, she gave birth to a son as plump and as fair as a glutinous rice ball.
The whole Hsu family was overwhelmed, steeped in profound happiness. When all of them came to congratulate the first Mrs. Hsu on the joyous event, she was so happy that her smile would not fade and she was unable to close her mouth.
Mrs. Hsu, concerned that Golden Carp might be weakened, had already hired a wetnurse, and as soon as the baby was born, he was immediately taken to Mrs. Hsu's chamber to be cared for. Mrs. Hsu had no further worries. Let the Master dally with Golden Carp. She was fully content only to have baby Chen-feng (named by the baby's maternal grandfather) abide with her.
With such a model wife as Mrs. Hsu in the household, it was no wonder that everyone would say: "Golden Carp, you are so lucky to have met Mrs. Hsu."
Golden Carp would not deny it, either. Still, whenever someone said this to her, she would merely smile, an apparent signal of both her agreement and satisfaction. As a matter of fact, she did not mean it. Golden Carp deemed that her luck was not at all due to her encountering Mrs. Hsu, but in having a womb that did not fail her, but which directly produced a son. That's really why she smiled. Neither denying nor admitting anything.
No matter how well Mrs. Hsu treated her, though, she was still just Golden Carp. Chen-feng called her "Mother," but to the rest of the household it was Golden Carp. Madame Hsu the Eldest called her Golden Carp. Mrs. Hsu the Mistress called her Golden Carp. All the young ladies called her Golden Carp.
She was Golden Carp for the whole Hsu family-three generations. "Golden Carp, Golden Carp," she had long been reckoning how to make this homely golden carp jump past the dragon gate!
Chen-feng turned 18, but the family was not changed much. Only now it was the time of the Republic, and the Master of the Hsu family was already retired from office- become an old and experienced remnant of a faded dynasty.
At the end of this year, Chen-feng would be married though he thought himself too young for marriage. But it was impossible for him to disobey his parents' wishes. Why did he have to be the only son in this family, and the youngest to boot?
His bride-to-be was the fourth daughter of the Tuanmu family of Kiangning. She was only sixteen.
The two families had been making preparations for the wedding since spring. This son, born to Golden Carp, was now going to take a wife.
Golden Carp had her own feelings about this ... and her own plans.
One day, she came over to Mrs. Kung's by herself.
This was not the Mrs. Kung who had walked in and out freely from missions to the Imperial Palace in the years gone by. The lasting blessing of the Imperial household had brought her fortune, and she now lived at the Hateh Gate in Peking. Now weak in vision and unable to thread the needles for embroidery work, Mrs. Kung had recruited some female apprentices who not only learned her skills, but worked on needlework orders from customers. Business was booming, and Mrs. Kung' was now known far and wide. Even foreigners from Chiaoming Lane would come to purchase her embroidered articles.
Mrs. Kung was surprised and happy to see Golden Carp. She had personally seen Golden Carp develop into a senior serving maid from a little serving maid-and then become the concubine for the Master—let alone the fact that Golden Carp's position as concubine was attributable to her own idea. Now, having been destined to give birth to a son. Golden Carp would deservedly live in ease and comfort for the rest of her life.
Mrs. Kung had already been told that Golden Carp was soon going to have a daughter-in-law-at the end of the year. Consequently, when she saw and greeted Golden Carp, she also congratulated her. Golden Carp thanked her, and the two then proceeded to sigh over the rapidly passing days. Finally, Golden Carp brought their conversation to her main purpose: "Mrs. Kung, I came to ask you to embroider something for me." And she undid a bundle wrapped in plain cloth and then spread out a piece of imported crimson satin fabric and asked that it be made into an embroidered, pleated skirt.
"What design?" asked Mrs. Kung.
"Auspicious Magpies Alighting on a Chinese Apricot Tree." said Golden Carp, showing Mrs. Kung how to layout the elements of the design. She wanted a panel fully covered with Chinese apricot blossoms. They were her favorites. She had loved them since she was very young. And she loved them dearly. She asked Mrs. Kung if she had an opinion on the design.
While she listened, Mrs. Kung was pondering: "Who is this pleated skirt for? Her daughter-in-law? No. A bride will not wear that design. There is no need, really, for the Hsu family to make the skirt for the bride. The Tuanmu family will bring a lot of embroidered goods from the south side of town."
She ended up asking. "Who is the skirt for?"
"Me." Golden Carp answered naturally, simply, unswervingly. Only the choice of the word "me" showed its internal weight.
"Oh." Mrs. Kung was taken aback, for a moment unable to utter another word. Yet, she was, even so, turning something over in her mind: "Golden Carp is going to wear a red pleated skirt? Does she merit it? The Hsu family has strict rules for its family members to follow. Can a serving-maid-turned concubine be allowed to wear a red pleated skirt?"
Mrs. Kung knew clearly in her own mind that in the Hsu family, the son was the family son, and that Golden Carp was still just Golden Carp. So Mrs. Kung was really completely puzzled. Yet, with a flattering smile, she had work begun on Golden Carp's design-right then, fully embroidering a piece of the Hsi Chueh Teng Mei. She promised to hurry to finish it-within half a month.
The embroidered, pleated skirt with the Hsi Chueh Teng Mei design was brought to the Hsu family residence by Mrs. Kung personally. Who could be as completely sensible as Mrs. Kung? She knew exactly what she was about and, therefore, took the skirt directly to Golden Carp's chamber.
Golden Carp took a quick look after undoing the cloth wrapper. With a satisfied expression, she then folded the skirt and rewrapped it immediately. Her no-nonsense and even indifferent air quite surprised Mrs. Kung. The latter inwardly counted Golden Carp's years. "At 16, she became a concubine. Plus her 18-year-old son-she is already 34! Almost 30 years since she first joined the Hsu family. And Golden Carp is going to wear a red, pleated skirt?" Mrs. Kung did not know whether she should say something to Golden Carp. Should Golden Carp really wear it?
Golden Carp certainly felt she should wear it. "Well, if no one else comes out and tells me I shouldn't wear it, then let me make my own decision."
As soon as she had seen Mrs. Kung off and returned to her chamber, Golden Carp knew that the fact that "Golden Carp has a pleated skirt" would already be spreading-right from the room of the gateman, to the Master's quarters where it was divulged by Mrs. Kung, even to the tiny room for storing coals in the side yard, then to under the clove tree. The message would be quietly spreading. She didn't mind at all. Golden Carp really did not mind. She was, as a matter of fact, exactly anticipating that this would happen. That everyone would know that she already had an imported red satin, pleated skirt.
A long time ago, she had begun having the dream of a skirt like this one-like those worn by Madame Hsu the Eldest, Mrs. Hsu the Mistress, and the Master's aunts on festive occasions. Someday, she dreamed, she would see that Golden Carp was linked to a crimson, pleated skirt. The day was the wedding day of her own son, Chen-feng. Who said she was not qualified to wear it? This was the time of the Republic; she knew what the Republic meant—"I can wear a crimson, pleated skirt. These are the days of the Republic."
The pleated skirt was kept in a camphorwood trunk. She did not show it to anyone. Nor did anyone come to ask her about it. Let them think about it. She hadn't even tried it on. She did not need to be impatient. She was, in fact, cool. She knew how to calmly deal with the day she would be putting on her brilliant red, embroidered, pleated skirt.
At the end of the eleventh month of the lunar year, Mrs. Hsu announced suddenly that on Chen-feng's wedding day, all the womenfolk of the Hsu family would wear chi pao. It was the time of the Republic and the form-fitting chi pao was in vogue. In addition, the newlyweds had received Western style educations. By wearing the chi pao, the exhilerating atmosphere of the times would be accented. Mrs. Hsu added that she had already asked the manager of the I Feng Hsiang fabrics store to visit the Hsu family. A whole cart of fine fabrics for chi paos would be sent soon. Everyone was to be given a proper length—make her own free choice.
As she announced the news to everyone, Mrs. Hsu's eyes swept over to Golden Carp. There in the crowd, Golden Carp was staring vacantly at an empty place. She was so tense and still, that not a hair moved. She was able to appear calm and composed, though aware that many eyes were cast her way.
She felt something wrong with the atmosphere. She felt as if she had been struck, unexpectedly. This far outdistanced her expectations. Her heart was as painful as if it were being bitten and slowly eaten up. She was caught in iron chains. She was unable to escape them, even for a moment.
On the wedding day, as expected, no red, pleated skirt was in sight. True, the banning of the crimson skirt itself wiped out differences in status. But, if someone wore one, didn't it automatically indicate the existence of differences of status? And this was exactly the point she had wanted to make.
The crimson, embroidered. pleated skirt was much heavier than a chi pao. And everyone could now wear a chi pao- but not a red, pleated skirt. For so many years she had dreamed that someday she would be able to wear a pleated skirt, made of crimson, imported satin, fully embroidered with Chinese apricot blossoms. She would wear it walking in the Master's quarters, in the parlor, under today's wedding tent. A swishing sound would come from the rubbing of the satin pleats, carefully ironed flat and neat. That sound, once the theme music of her envy, now made her yearn, made her broken-hearted.
Chen-feng rushed homeward to stand by the sickbed of his mother. Golden Carp had already entered a critical state. She seemed, opening her eyes, to be answering her son's cries with her groans. But, actually she was on the point of death and knew nothing.
This was Chen-feng's first homecoming since he had left for his studies in Japan. He had been called back by an urgent cable. Otherwise, for how many more years might he stay on in Japan?
When Chen-feng was married, in the year he turned 18, he could feel that the atmosphere in the family was hostile to his mother. He found himself in a kind of agony. Another mother (Mrs. Hsu) had brought him up; he had sisters who doted on him, a father who cared for him, relatives and servants who respected him. However, he also had a mother (Golden Carp) who gave birth to him-a person of lesser status. He knew how this mother had suffered when the standing joke- "Golden Carp has a pleated skirt"-spread to every corner of the Hsu family, explaining everything.
In this era and this family, new and old thoughts met and clashed; he could do nothing. It seemed to him better to go off to a far place away from his depressing family situation. To Japan to study, Perhaps without his presence, the stringent status concepts applied to his mother would be shaken, relieving her sorrows. He understood within him the pain of being her. As he left China, only he himself was aware of the present state of his mind. In the final analysis, who was there in the world to whom he could pour out his heart?
He did well in Japan and stayed on, one year after another, enriching himself with more and newer knowledge. As he was wholly caught up in his studies, his mind was distant from the concerns of that big family, although once in a while, regrets over the separation from his new bride would whisper in his mind. However, each time he would shrug it off: "In any case, I married too early; the days ahead are countless."
Now he had come back. He left the country for Japan in concern for his mother; his return was still for her. But she was now dead, her death having solved her problems once and for all. He was intensely aware that his mother had died in deep regret, still resenting having been deprived of the chance even to long for a possible opportunity to wear the pleated skirt just once in her life. What a cruel situation for her. Was she despondent over the whole ten-year period? Was she angry at her son in resentment over his long journey... over his reluctance to return? In his absence, her status in the family could not have been promoted and she lingered forever on life's stage as Golden Carp. Giving birth to a son should have filled his mother's days with pride. But she had never obtained her due. They had suppressed the honor she deserved.
Never had he expected that his mother would die so early. For a long time he had sworn to himself that someday, he would do something to put the woman he called "Mother" and the woman he called "Niang" (Mrs. Hsu) on an equal footing and see to it that they enjoyed the same happiness. Such was his compulsion to filial piety. Now, he was bitterly remorseful that he had not shown his feelings to his mother while she was still alive. Somewhat unexpectedly, he had let his mother die by cherishing his resentment.
Despite the fact that the whole family was mourning the death of Golden Carp, established family practice had to be respected. On the day of the funeral, for example, the problem of the gate could not be solved. It was too narrow for the coffin. Chen-feng, feeling uneasy, asked which gate was too narrow, and was told the side gate. Because Golden Carp had the status of a concubine, her coffin could not properly be allowed to pass through the main gate. They were discussing the possibility of temporarily dismantling the side gate frame. If this was done, the coffin could pass.
As Chen-feng heard all this, a fire ignited in his chest. His face flushed as he tried to restrain the fiery emotion. He spoke deliberately: "I was born to a concubine. Then, does that mean that I must also not go in and out of the main gate?"
"Foolish child! How could you talk like that? Of course you can use the main gate..." an old aunt responded with a wry smile.
Without waiting for the aunt to finish, on impulse. Chen-feng rushed to the mourning hall. He bent over the coffin, pounded on it, and cried out. "Since I can go through the main gate, now let Mother go through it with me! One time! Just one time! Just one time!"
The family and gathered relatives were stunned. Chen-feng wept, bending over his mother's coffin. No one knew how to wean him from his sorrow; it was beyond their expectations.
In the end, Chen-feng escorted his mother's casket in dignity through the main gate.
In his thoughts, he recalled over and over that while his mother was still alive, he could not demonstrate to her his true feelings, his filial piety, and make her happy. He was young. So ignorant. So ignorant of his mother's status problems in the family. Now that he had finally done something, was her spirit able to understand, to penetrate his intentions? Still, his heavy heart was lighter.
Seeing that his wife was not now willing to let Shanshan take the pleated skirt along with her to school, the man interceded on behalf of his daughter. "Let her take it. Let her be happy, if that pleases her. As a matter of fact, the skirt has no meaning anymore. In those times, was a pleated skirt really so significant for a woman's status? As I view it now, it is beyond comprehension. So long as it pleases a schoolgirl, why, let her put it on and show it off on stage.... Ah, time...."
He did not finish. He came unmanageably to silence with a heavy sigh.
Shanshan had only waited for her father to finish what was in his mind; then the pleated skirt was in her hands. She had no need to pay heed to what remained unsaid.
Her mother, having held her own thoughts, now spoke quickly: "Chen-feng, do you know.... At that time, I had really set my mind on putting the skirt in the casket so it would be buried with mother. I knew she loved it. But...."
Mother did not finish. She and her husband were now silent, lost in their reveries of the past.
Shanshan, though, was entirely absorbed now in matching the skirt to her figure. She suddenly addressed her mother. "Come show me how to put it on."
Mother took the skirt, took a look at it, and smiled. She opened the skirt at the waist and showed it to her husband and daughter. "I was right; no one has ever worn it. Look, the waist strings haven't yet been stitched to the skirt."