expect them to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what else can they do to make a living? Your family is rich and powerful—”
“I never asked for any of that,” he says quickly.
“You are the beneficiary of it, just the same,” she points out, surprised at his thoughtlessness. “You’ll inherit a position, or your father will buy you one. Who are you to criticize people who aren’t so fortunate, who have to work hard to get ahead?”
“Getting ahead!” he cries, seizing on the phrase. “That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? They go on and on about ‘civic duty’ and ‘moral cultivation’ and the ‘love of wisdom,’ when all they want to do is get ahead.”
“It’s on the Exams; that’s why they study it. I don’t think there’s any secret about that.”
“But it’s so hypocritical—”
Lian laughingly intercedes. “Don’t get him started!” he tells Daiyu. “He isn’t supposed to get excited.” He urges Baoyu to rest, and leaves. Snowgoose steps forward with the parcel. “This is from Lady Jia.”
“What is it?”
“It’s supposed to prevent scarring. You’re to put it on twice a day.”
As Snowgoose places the medicine on a table already crowded with ointments and dressings, Baoyu smiles at Daiyu. “So you have finally come to see me.”
She says nothing, embarrassed by his suggestion that he has been eager for her to visit.
“Sit down.” He pats the kang .
Instead, she takes the seat Lian has vacated. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty well. Mostly I’m bored.”
“Can’t you get out of bed?”
“The doctor says I have to stay in bed the rest of the week.”
“I’m afraid I have to go back to Lady Jia’s,” Snowgoose says.
Daiyu rises. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, don’t go,” Baoyu says. “You’ve hardly stayed for five minutes.”
“You’ve just been tired out by another visitor. Why don’t you get some rest?”
“I’ll be so bored and lonely after you go.”
She hesitates. She wants to stay and talk to him, yet feels shy about being alone with him.
He stretches out his hand beseechingly. “Please stay.”
Daiyu looks at Snowgoose, who gives a tiny shrug.
“Oh, all right,” she says, sitting back down. “I’ll stay for a little while.”
There is a brief silence after Snowgoose leaves. Then she asks, “Why did you defend Huan? You know he dropped that candle on you on purpose.”
She half expects him to contradict her, to insist it was an accident, but his eyes meet hers directly, seeming to acknowledge the truth of her words. “Why should I make things harder for him?”
“You know he hates you. Don’t you want to protect yourself against him?”
He seems to consider the question. Then he smiles, and shrugs. “He can’t hurt me.”
“He did hurt you. He burned you.”
“Don’t say that in front of anyone else, will you?”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll get in even worse trouble. What do you do to amuse yourself all day?”
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
He sighs. “What do you want me to say?”
What does she want him to say? She understands. He follows his own particular code of honor: knowing that the others treat his brother unfairly, he tries to protect him, without necessarily liking Huan or being nice to Huan himself.
“What do you do to amuse yourself?” he repeats, smiling.
“I read a lot. Sometimes I talk to Baochai.”
“What are you reading?”
“ Strange Stories from a Do-Nothing Studio , by Pu Songling.”
“What stories do you like best?” He pushes himself off his pillows andsits upright, drawing up his knees and clasping his elbows over them, as if settling in for a long talk.
“I like the one about the man who was a connoisseur of stone.”
“Which one is that?”
“There was a man who was a collector of rocks, who finds a rare and beautiful stone entangled in his fishing net. It was shaped like a small mountain, with all sorts of tunnels and
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what else can they do to make a living? Your family is rich and powerful—”
“I never asked for any of that,” he says quickly.
“You are the beneficiary of it, just the same,” she points out, surprised at his thoughtlessness. “You’ll inherit a position, or your father will buy you one. Who are you to criticize people who aren’t so fortunate, who have to work hard to get ahead?”
“Getting ahead!” he cries, seizing on the phrase. “That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? They go on and on about ‘civic duty’ and ‘moral cultivation’ and the ‘love of wisdom,’ when all they want to do is get ahead.”
“It’s on the Exams; that’s why they study it. I don’t think there’s any secret about that.”
“But it’s so hypocritical—”
Lian laughingly intercedes. “Don’t get him started!” he tells Daiyu. “He isn’t supposed to get excited.” He urges Baoyu to rest, and leaves. Snowgoose steps forward with the parcel. “This is from Lady Jia.”
“What is it?”
“It’s supposed to prevent scarring. You’re to put it on twice a day.”
As Snowgoose places the medicine on a table already crowded with ointments and dressings, Baoyu smiles at Daiyu. “So you have finally come to see me.”
She says nothing, embarrassed by his suggestion that he has been eager for her to visit.
“Sit down.” He pats the kang .
Instead, she takes the seat Lian has vacated. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty well. Mostly I’m bored.”
“Can’t you get out of bed?”
“The doctor says I have to stay in bed the rest of the week.”
“I’m afraid I have to go back to Lady Jia’s,” Snowgoose says.
Daiyu rises. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, don’t go,” Baoyu says. “You’ve hardly stayed for five minutes.”
“You’ve just been tired out by another visitor. Why don’t you get some rest?”
“I’ll be so bored and lonely after you go.”
She hesitates. She wants to stay and talk to him, yet feels shy about being alone with him.
He stretches out his hand beseechingly. “Please stay.”
Daiyu looks at Snowgoose, who gives a tiny shrug.
“Oh, all right,” she says, sitting back down. “I’ll stay for a little while.”
There is a brief silence after Snowgoose leaves. Then she asks, “Why did you defend Huan? You know he dropped that candle on you on purpose.”
She half expects him to contradict her, to insist it was an accident, but his eyes meet hers directly, seeming to acknowledge the truth of her words. “Why should I make things harder for him?”
“You know he hates you. Don’t you want to protect yourself against him?”
He seems to consider the question. Then he smiles, and shrugs. “He can’t hurt me.”
“He did hurt you. He burned you.”
“Don’t say that in front of anyone else, will you?”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll get in even worse trouble. What do you do to amuse yourself all day?”
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
He sighs. “What do you want me to say?”
What does she want him to say? She understands. He follows his own particular code of honor: knowing that the others treat his brother unfairly, he tries to protect him, without necessarily liking Huan or being nice to Huan himself.
“What do you do to amuse yourself?” he repeats, smiling.
“I read a lot. Sometimes I talk to Baochai.”
“What are you reading?”
“ Strange Stories from a Do-Nothing Studio , by Pu Songling.”
“What stories do you like best?” He pushes himself off his pillows andsits upright, drawing up his knees and clasping his elbows over them, as if settling in for a long talk.
“I like the one about the man who was a connoisseur of stone.”
“Which one is that?”
“There was a man who was a collector of rocks, who finds a rare and beautiful stone entangled in his fishing net. It was shaped like a small mountain, with all sorts of tunnels and
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