"This room of mine," observed Mrs. Ch'in smilingly, "is I think, good enough for even spirits to live in!" and, as she uttered these words, she with her own hands, opened a gauze coverlet, which had been washed by Hsi Shih, and removed a bridal pillow, which had been held in the arms of Hung Niang. Instantly, the nurses attended to Pao-yü, until he had laid down comfortably; when they quietly dispersed, leaving only the four waiting maids: Hsi Jen, Ch'iu Wen, Ch'ing Wen and She Yueh to keep him company.
"Mind be careful, as you sit under the eaves," Mrs. Ch'in recommended the young waiting maids, "that the cats do not start a fight!"
Pao-yü then closed his eyes, and, little by little, became drowsy, and fell asleep.
It seemed to him just as if Mrs. Ch'in was walking ahead of him. Forthwith, with listless and unsettled step, he followed Mrs. Ch'in to some spot or other, where he saw carnation-like railings, jade-like steps, verdant trees and limpid pools—a spot where actually no trace of any human being could be met with, where of the shifting mundane dust little had penetrated.
Pao-yü felt, in his dream, quite delighted. "This place," he mused, "is pleasant, and I may as well spend my whole lifetime in here! though I may have to lose my home, I'm quite ready for the sacrifice, for it's far better being here than being flogged, day after day, by father, mother, and teacher."
While he pondered in this erratic strain, he suddenly heard the voice of some human being at the back of the rocks, giving vent to this song:
Like scattering clouds doth fleet a vernal dream;
The transient flowers pass like a running stream;
Maidens and youths bear this, ye all, in mind;
In useless grief what profit will ye find?
Pao-yü perceived that the voice was that of a girl. The song was barely at an end, when he soon espied in the opposite direction, a beautiful girl advancing with majestic and elastic step; a girl quite unlike any ordinary mortal being. There is this poem, which gives an adequate description of her:
Lo she just quits the willow bank; and sudden now she issues from the
flower-bedecked house;
As onward alone she speeds, she startles the birds perched in the
trees, by the pavilion; to which as she draws nigh, her shadow
flits by the verandah!
Her fairy clothes now flutter in the wind! a fragrant perfume like
unto musk or olea is wafted in the air; Her apparel lotus-like is
sudden wont to move; and the jingle of her ornaments strikes the
ear.
Her dimpled cheeks resemble, as they smile, a vernal peach; her
kingfisher coiffure is like a cumulus of clouds; her lips part
cherry-like; her pomegranate-like teeth conceal a fragrant
breath.
Her slender waist, so beauteous to look at, is like the skipping snow
wafted by a gust of wind; the sheen of her pearls and kingfisher
trinkets abounds with splendour, green as the feathers of a duck,
and yellow as the plumes of a goose;
Now she issues to view, and now is hidden among the flowers; beautiful
she is when displeased, beautiful when in high spirits; with
lissome step, she treads along the pond, as if she soars on wings
or sways in the air.
Her eyebrows are crescent moons, and knit under her smiles; she
speaks, and yet she seems no word to utter; her lotus-like feet
with ease pursue their course; she stops, and yet she seems still
to be in motion; the charms of her figure all vie with ice in
purity, and in splendour with precious gems; Lovely is her
brilliant attire, so full of grandeur and refined grace.
Loveable her countenance, as if moulded from some fragrant substance,
or carved from white jade; elegant is her person, like a phoenix,
dignified like a dragon soaring high.
What is her chastity like? Like a white plum in spring with snow
nestling in its broken skin; Her purity? Like autumn orchids
bedecked with dewdrops.
Her modesty? Like a fir-tree growing in a barren plain; Her
comeliness? Like russet clouds reflected in a limpid pool.
Her gracefulness? Like a dragon in motion wriggling in a stream;
Her refinement? Like the rays of the moon shooting on to a cool
river.
Sure is she to put Hsi Tzu to shame! Bound to put Wang Ch'iang to the
blush! What a remarkable person! Where was she born? and whence
does she come?
One thing is true that in Fairy-land there is no second like her! that
in the Purple Courts of Heaven there is no one fit to be her peer!
Forsooth, who can it be, so surpassingly beautiful!
Pao-yü, upon realising that she was a fairy, was much elated; and with eagerness advanced and made a bow.