But to continue. “We should, after all,” Pao-ch’ai suggested, “make some distinction as to order. Let me write out what’s needful.”

After uttering this proposal, she urged every one to draw lots and determine the precedence. The first one to draw was Li Wan. After her, a list of the respective names was made in the order in which they came out.

“Well, in that case,” lady Feng rejoined, “I’ll also give a top line.”

The whole party laughed in chorus. “It will be ever so much better like this,” they said.

Pao-ch’ai supplied above ‘the old labourer of Tao Hsiang’ the word ‘Feng,’ whereupon Li Wan went on to explain the theme to her.

“You musn’t poke fun at me!” lady Feng smiled, after considerable reflection. “I’ve only managed to get a coarse line. It consists of five words. As for the rest, I have no idea how to manage them.”

“The coarser the language, the better it is,” one and all laughed. “Out with it! You can then go and attend to your legitimate business!”

“I fancy,” lady Feng observed, “that when it snows there’s bound to be northerly wind, for last night I heard the wind blow from the north the whole night long. I’ve got a line, it’s:

“‘The whole night long the northern wind was high;’

“but whether it will do or not, I am not going to worry my mind about it.”

One and all, upon hearing this, exchanged looks. “This line is, it’s true, coarse,” they smiled, “and gives no insight into what comes below, but it’s just the kind of opening that would be used by such as understand versification. It’s not only good, but it will afford to those, who come after you, inexhaustible scope for writing. In fact, this line will take the lead, so ‘old labourer of Tao Hsiang’ be quick and indite some more to tag on below.”

Lady Feng, ‘sister-in-law’ Li, and P’ing Erh had then another couple of glasses, after which each went her own way. During this while Li Wan wrote down:

The whole night long the northern wind was high;

and then she herself subjoined the antithetical couplet:

The door I ope, and lo the flakes of snow are still toss’d by the
wind,
And drop into the slush. Oh, what a pity they’re so purely white!

Hsiang Ling recited:

All o’er the ground is spread, alas, this bright, refulgent gem;
But with an aim; for it is meant dry herbage to revive.

T’an Ch’un said:

Without design the dying sprouts of grain it nutrifies.
But in the villages the price of mellow wine doth rise.

Li Ch’i added:

In a good year, grain in the house is plentiful.
The bulrush moves and the ash issues from the tube.

Li Wen continued:

What time spring comes the handle of the Dipper turns.
The bleaky hills have long ago their verdure lost.

Chou-yen proceeded:

On a frost-covered stream, no tide can ever rise.
Easy the snow hangs on the sparse-leaved willow twigs.

Hsiang-yün pursued:

Hard ’tis for snow to pile on broken plantain leaves.
The coal, musk-scented, burns in the precious tripod.

Pao-ch’in recited:

Th’ embroidered sleeve enwraps the golden sable in its folds.
The snow transcends the mirror by the window in lustre.

Pao-yü suggested:

The fragrant pepper clings unto the wall.
The side wind still in whistling gusts doth blow.

Tai-yü added:

A quiet dream becomes a cheerless thing.
Where is the fife with plum bloom painted on?

Pao-ch’ai continued:

In whose household is there a flute made of green jade?
The fish fears lest the earth from its axis might drop.

“I’ll go and see that the wine is warm for you people,” Li Wan smiled.

But when Pao-ch’ai told Pao-ch’in to connect some lines, she caught sight of Hsiang-yün rise to her feet and put in:

What time the dragon wages war, the clouds dispel.
Back to the wild shore turns the man with single scull.

Pao-ch’in thereupon again appended the couplet:

The old man hums his lines, and with his whip he points at the ‘Pa’
bridge.
Fur coats are, out of pity, on the troops at the frontiers bestowed.

But would Hsiang-yün allow any one to have a say? The others could not besides come up to her in quickness of wits so that, while their eyes were fixed on her, she with eyebrows uplifted and figure outstretched proceeded to say:

More cotton coats confer, for bear in memory th’ imperial serfs!
The rugged barbarous lands are (on account of snow) with dangers
fraught.

Pao-ch’ai praised the verses again and again, and next contributed the distich:

The twigs and branches live in fear of being tossed about.
With what whiteness and feath’ry step the flakes of snow descend!

Tai-yü eagerly subjoined the lines:

The snow as nimbly falls as moves the waist of the ‘Sui’ man when
brandishing the sword.
The tender leaves of tea, so acrid to the taste, have just been newly
brewed and tried.

As she recited this couplet, she gave Pao-yü a shove and urged him to go on. Pao-yü was, at the moment, enjoying the intense pleasure of watching the three girls Pao-ch’ai, Pao-ch’in and Tai-yü make a joint onslaught on Hsiang-yün, so that he had of course not given his mind to tagging any antithetical verses. But when he now felt Tai-yü push him he at length chimed in with:

The fir is the sole tree which is decreed for ever to subsist.
The wild goose follows in the mud the prints and traces of its steps.

Pao-ch’in took up the clue, adding:

In the forest, the axe of the woodcutter may betimes be heard.
With (snow) covered contours, a thousand peaks their heads jut in the
air.