Kim ManChoong - The Cloud Dream of the Nine

“Wildgoose replied for herself, saying: 'If there be as in the days of the Chin Kingdom someone like Sa An-sok, I'll follow him and be the companion of a minister of state; or if as in the days of the Three Kingdoms someone like Choo Kong-keun, I'll follow him and be the wife of a noted governor; or if there be someone like Yee Tai-baik [15]

, doctor of the Hallim, great in letters, I'll follow him; or if he be like Sa Ma-chang, who sang the phoenix song in the days of Han Moo-je [16]

, I'll follow him. Where my heart goes I will go, but who can tell in advance where this shall be?'

“Then the various go-betweens laughed loudly and took their departure. Wildgoose said to herself: 'How could an imprisoned girl from an obscure part of the country with no experience of the world ever be expected to select a noted lord for husband? But a dancer like me is one who shares the festal season with the rare and gifted, and talks to them face to face. She even opens the door to princes and nobles. She learns to distinguish the high-born from the mediocre, and becomes an expert in assaying human worth. She can sense the bamboo from the Tai, or jade ornaments from Namjon; how should she be anxious about whom to choose?' So she yielded herself up as a dancing-girl in order that she might attach herself to one great and renowned, but in all these years she has found nothing but an empty reputation.

“Last year the noted literati from the twelve counties of Shantung north of the river held a great feast in the capital and had dancing and music. At this time Wildgoose sang the Yea-sang Kok (The Rainbow Robes of the Fairy). She was like the wild bird itself in grace of motion and matchless beauty. All the dancers of the day dropped their heads before her. When the feast was over she went away by herself to the top of Tong-jak Tower, walked back and forth under the light of the moon, thinking over the writings of the ancient sages, her heart full of loneliness and sorrow, sighing to herself over past events that had broken in upon her fragrant way. All who saw her revered her grace and gazed with wonder at her loveliness. When Wildgoose and I played together in the Sang-kok Monastery and told our hopes one to the other, she said to me: 'If we two meet a master whom we like let's recommend each other. As we serve the same husband we shall pass our happy days without faults or failings.'

“I agreed, and now that I have met with my destined lord I naturally think of Wildgoose, who is at present in the palace of the governor of Shantung. Alas, as the ancients said, there are many devils to interfere with what is sweet and good. The wives of the governor are surrounded with riches and honour, but this is not what Wildgoose wishes.” And Moonlight sighed and added: “Would that I could meet my fairest companion and tell her.”

Yang said in reply: “There are many gifted ones among the dancers, and yet why should a daughter of the gentry have to take a second place to them?”

Moonlight answered: “Among those I know there is no one who equals Chin See. How could I dare propose a name to my lord not her equal? Still I have frequently heard the people of the capital say that there is no one like Justice Cheung's daughter. For beauty of face and nobility of heart she is regarded as first of all. I have not seen her myself, but there is no question that her name is well won. When my lord reaches the capital please think of this. Seek her out if possible, and learn if this be so.”

But the time had come to part, and Moonlight said in haste: “You must not stay longer. The various guests were fiercely angry with you and will be so still. There may be danger; go quickly, please. We shall meet and have many happy days together, why should I be sad?”

The master spoke his greetings: “Your words are like gold and jewels to me, and shall be written on my heart,” and in tears they parted.

Chapter IVIn the Guise of a Priestess

YANG now made his way from Nakyang to the western capital, found a lodging-house and disposed of his baggage. Learning that the day set for the examination was still distant, he called the host and inquired of him about his mother's cousin. He was told that she resided outside the South Gate. So he prepared something in the way of a present and went to find her. She was now a little over sixty years of age, was held in great respect, and was the head of the Taoist sect of women.

The master appeared before her with due ceremony and gave his mother's letter, while the priestess inquired about his health, and with evident emotion said: “It is twenty years and more since your mother and I parted, and now here is a young man of the second generation, so handsome and strong. Surely time goes by like galloping horses or swift running water. I am an old woman now and am tired of living in the noise and confusion of the capital. I was just on the point of going off to the hills, where I could meet some sage and give my mind to non-earthly things, but now I find in my sister's letter a commission that she has for me, so I must stay and carry it out on your behalf.”

Yang's appearance was most attractive, and his young countenance like that of the gods. The priestess realised that it would be very difficult indeed to find a fitting mate for him from the homes of the gentry. Still she would try. “Come and see me often in your moments of leisure,” said she.

Yang's answer was: “Your humble nephew belongs to a family that is poor and unknown, with only his aged mother left to him. He is now nearing twenty, and living in an unfrequented part of the country had no chance to find a companion. In these straits, and with the question of food and clothing added, he had to remember first the law of faithfulness to his mother. Between fears and hopes he has come to solicit help from his excellent aunt, and she has so kindly consented to assist him that he is very grateful indeed. There are no words by which he can express this.” He said good-bye and withdrew.

The time for the examination drew gradually nearer, but now that a question of marriage had arisen, his desire for fame and literary distinction little by little declined. A few days later he went again to see his aunt.

The priestess met him laughingly, and said: “There is a maiden of whom I have thought whose beauty and intelligence are a match indeed for the young master; but her family is terribly proud and exclusive, with dukes and barons and ministers of state and so forth in its train for generations. I fear this family is quite unapproachable. If you could but win the first place in the examination you might think of this as a possibility. Otherwise I fear there is no hope. My advice to you is not to come visiting me so often, but to spend your efforts in the way of preparation so as to win the first place of honour when the examination takes place.”

Yang asked: “To whose home do you refer?”

“Just outside the Chong-yung Gate,” said she, “is Justice Cheung's house. That is the one I refer to. Before it is an approach-way ornamented with red arrows. This Justice has a daughter who is a veritable fairy, evidently some angelic visitor to the earth.”

Yang then thought of what Moonlight had told him, and said to himself: “How is it that this girl is praised so highly?” Then he asked of the priestess, “My honoured aunt, did you ever see this daughter of Cheung?”

“See her? Of course I've seen her, and she is indeed an angel from heaven. No words can express how wonderful she is.”

The young master then said: “I don't like to boast, but I am sure I shall win first place in the examination as easily as drawing my hand from my pocket. Don't be anxious on that score, please. But I have had one foolish wish all my life, and that is not to ask in marriage one whom I have never seen. Please, excellent aunt, take pity on me and help me to see what the lady is like?”

The priestess replied: “How could you ever hope to see this daughter of a high minister of state? [17]

You do not trust what I say?”

He replied: “How could I ever doubt your words? But still we each have our own likes and dislikes. Your eyes could never be just the same as mine.”

“There is no such danger,” said she. “Even children know that the phoenix and the unicorn mean good luck, and the lowest classes in the world understand that the blue sky and the bright sun are exalted and glorious. A man who has any eyes at all would know that Cha-do was a beauty.”

Yang returned home unsatisfied in heart, and next day went once more, greatly desiring to obtain his aunt's definite permission. The priestess met him and laughingly said: “You have come early to-day; you must have some special news to tell me.”

Yang smiled and made reply: “Only by seeing Justice Cheung's daughter can your humble servant rid himself of his doubts and fears. Think once again, please, of my mother's commission and my earnest desire, and tell me some plan by which I can look upon her face. If you will only do this I will thank you for such kind favour by a never ending gratitude.”

The priestess shook her head, saying: “That's a very difficult thing indeed.” She thought for a time and then asked: “You are so highly accomplished otherwise, have you ever had leisure in your studies for music?”

Yang replied: “Your humble nephew once met a great teacher of the genii, and took from him a special course, and so knows something of the Five Notes and the Six Accords of the gamut.”

The priestess then said to him: “Justice Cheung's home is a very large one, and has five successive gates of entrance. It is a long way into the inner quarters, and the walls about are high and forbidding. Without wings to fly, there is no possible way of entrance. The Justice himself follows the Books of Rites and Poetry carefully and conforms his household in every particular to their teachings, so that members of the former never come here to offer incense, nor do they seek sacrifice in the Buddhist temples. The Feast of Lanterns [18]

of the first moon, and the celebration on the Kok River [19]

of the third have no attractions for them. How could an outsider ever expect to gain entrance to such a family? I have thought of a plan, however, but do not know whether you would care to try it.”

Yang replied: “If it be a matter of seeing the maiden Cheung, I'll go up to heaven or down into Hades; I'll carry fire on my back or walk on the water, if you just say the word.”

The priestess made answer: “Justice Cheung is now advanced in years, is in poor health, and has little interest in the affairs of state. His chief delight is in sight-seeing and in hearing music. His wife, Choi See, is extravagantly fond of the harp, and the daughter being so quick and intelligent and able to grasp the thought of any and every question, has acquired a thorough knowledge of the ancient masters. A single hearing and she understands at once a player's excellences or defects. The mother, Choi See, likes to hear something new, and constantly calls people to play for her, keeping her daughter at hand to comment and to listen. Thus she delights her old age with the charm of music. My idea is this, that since you understand how to play, you should practise some special selections and then wait till the last day of the third moon, the birthday of No-ja. They always send a servant on that day from Cheung's house with candles to burn in the temple here. You might take advantage of this opportunity to dress as a Taoist priestess and play so that the servant could hear you, and the servant will assuredly take the news of it to her mistress. The lady, when she learns this, will unquestionably call you. In this way you might gain admission. As for seeing or not seeing the daughter, that depends on the decrees of fate, of which I am not the master. Apart from this I have no other suggestion to offer.” She added also: “Your face is quite like a girl's, and you have no beard. Priestesses, too, do not do up their hair as other girls do, or cover their ears with it. I see nothing difficult in the matter of your disguise.”

Yang, greatly delighted, took his departure. He counted over on his fingers the days that must elapse before the end of the month.

Justice Cheung, it seems, had no other child but this daughter. When she was born the mother, Choi See, half unconscious, saw a fairy angel come down from heaven and drop a sparkling gem into the room before her. Then it was that the child was born. She was called Kyong-pai, Gem-Treasure, and grew up little by little, more and more beautiful, more and more graceful, more and more gifted, so that none from ancient times was ever like her. Her parents greatly loved her and sought someone to be a fitting husband, but as yet none had been found to suit them. She was sixteen now and yet no marriage had been arranged.

On a certain day Choi See called her nurse, old Chon, and said: “To-day is the anniversary of the great teacher No-ja. Take four candles and go to the Taoist temple and give them to the priestess Too-ryon. Take these cloth gifts as well and refreshments, and present them with my kindest greetings.”

Old Chon took her orders, entered a little palanquin and went to the temple. The priestess received the candles and lit them before No-ja's portrait. She said a hundred thanks and made her bow for the presents; treated Chon royally and sent her on her way rejoicing.

Meantime, in the guise of a young priestess, Master Yang had come into the temple, tuned his harp and had begun to play. Just as the old nurse had said good-bye and was about to step into the chair, she suddenly heard the sound of music from before the portrait in the main hall. Lovely music it was, clear and sweet, such as belongs beyond the clouds. Chon, ordering the chair to wait for a moment, inclined her head and listened.

She turned to the priestess Too-ryon and said: “While I have waited on the lady Cheung I have heard sweet music, but never in my life have I heard anything like this. It is wonderful. Who is playing?”

The priestess replied: “Recently a young acolyte from Cho has come to visit me, desiring greatly to see the capital. It is she who plays. Certainly her powers of execution are wonderful, but I am not a musician myself, and cannot well distinguish one part from the other. Still I am sure after what you say that she must be very gifted indeed.”

Chon said: “If the lady Cheung knows of this she will certainly invite her. Ask her to stay for a little, please.”

The priestess replied: “Very well, I'll do so.” So she sent her on her way and then she told Master Yang what old Chon had said. Yang was delighted, and awaited impatiently his summons to the house of Cheung.

On her return the old nurse said to the lady Cheung: “In the Taoist Temple there is a young priestess who plays the harp as I have never heard it played in my life; it is the most wonderful playing in the world.”

The lady Cheung replied: “I wish I could hear her.” The following day she sent a closed chair and a servant to the temple bearing a message to the teacher Too-ryon, saying: “Even though the young priestess should not wish to come, please use your kind offices to have her visit me.”

The priestess then said to Yang before the servant: “This high and noble lady invites you; you must not refuse to go.”

“It is not fitting,” said Yang, “that one born of the low classes in a distant part of the country should go into the presence of nobility, and yet how can I refuse to do what your ladyship commands?”