He asked how old she was. The widow answered, “She was born in the year of the present Emperor’s reign that was a year of the Rat, and now it is the year of the Dragon in the period Chēng-yüan.[6] So she must be seventeen years old.”
Chang tried to engage her in conversation, but she would not answer, and soon the dinner was over. He was passionately in love with her and wanted to tell her so, but could find no way.
Ying-ying had a maid-servant called Hung-niang, whom Chang sometimes met and greeted. Once he stopped her and was beginning to tell her of his love for her mistress; but she was frightened and ran away. Then Chang was sorry he had not kept silence.
Next day he met Hung-niang again, but was ashamed and did not say what was in his mind. But this time the maid herself broached the subject and said to Chang, “Master, I dare not tell her what you told me, or even hint at it. But since your mother was a kinswoman of the Ts‘uis, why do you not seek my mistress’s hand on that plea?”
Chang said, “Since I was a child in arms, my nature has been averse to intimacy. Sometimes I have idled with wearers of silk and gauze, but my fancy was never once detained. I little thought that in the end I should be entrapped.
“Lately at the banquet I could scarcely contain myself; and since then, when I walk, I forget where I am going and when I eat, I forget to finish my meal, and do not know how to endure the hours from dawn to dusk.
“If we were to get married through a matchmaker and perform the ceremonies of Sending Presents and Asking Names, it would take many months, and by that time you would have to look for me ‘in the dried-fish shop.’ What is the use of giving me such advice as that?”
The maid replied, “My mistress clings steadfastly to her chastity, and even an equal could not trip her with lewd talk. Much less may she be won through the stratagems of a maid-servant. But she is skilled in composition, and often when she has made a poem or essay, she is restless and dissatisfied for a long while after. You must try to provoke her by a love-poem. There is no other way.”
Chang was delighted and at once composed two Spring Poems to send her. Hung-niang took them away and came back the same evening with a coloured tablet, which she gave to Chang, saying, “This is from my mistress.” It bore the title “The Bright Moon of the Fifteenth Night.” The words ran:
To wait for the moon I am sitting in the western parlour;
To greet the wind, I have left the door ajar.
When a flower’s shadow stirred and brushed the wall,
For a moment I thought it the shadow of a lover coming.