Pao-yü himself was no less delighted to carry it into execution, so signifying his readiness to comply with their wishes, he felt desirous to be off at once.
"It's exceedingly cold outside," Hsiang-yün and Tai-yü simultaneously remarked, "so have a glass of warm wine before you go."
Hsiang-yün speedily took up the kettle, and Tai-yü handed him a large cup, filled to the very brim.
"Now swallow the wine we give you," Hsiang-yün smiled. "And if you don't bring any plum blossom, we'll inflict a double penalty."
Pao-yü gulped down hurry-scurry the whole contents of the cup and started on his errand in the face of the snow.
"Follow him carefully." Li Wan enjoined the servants.
Tai-yü, however, hastened to interfere and make her desist. "There's no such need," she cried. "Were any one to go with him, he'll contrariwise not get the flowers."
Li Wan nodded her head. "Yes!" she assented, and then went on to direct a waiting-maid to bring a vase, in the shape of a beautiful girl with high shoulders, to fill it with water, and get it ready to put the plum blossom in. "And when he comes back," she felt induced to add, "we must recite verses on the red plum."
"I'll indite a stanza in advance," eagerly exclaimed Hsiang-yün.
"We'll on no account let you indite any more to-day," Pao-ch'ai laughed. "You beat every one of us hollow; so if we sit with idle hands, there won't be any fun. But by and bye we'll fine Pao-yü; and, as he says that he can't pair antithetical lines, we'll now make him compose a stanza himself."