And all this time the eldest son stood there in anger and in silence.
Then when the cousin had seen everything he went to see his mother and Wang Lung went with him to show where she was. There she lay on her bed, asleep so her son could hardly wake her, but wake her he did, clapping the thick end of his gun upon the tiles of the floor at her bed’s head. Then she woke and stared at him out of a dream, and he said impatiently,
“Well, and here is your son and yet you sleep on!”
She raised herself then in her bed and stared at him again and she said wondering,
“My son—it is my son—” and she looked at him for a long time and at last as though she did not know what else to do she proffered him her opium pipe, as if she could think of no greater good than this, and she said to the slave that tended her, “Prepare some for him.”
And he stared back at her and he said,
“No, I will not have it”
Wang Lung stood there beside the bed and he was suddenly afraid lest this man should turn on him and say,
“What have you done to my mother that she is sere and yellow like this and all her good flesh gone?”
So Wang said hastily himself,
“I wish she were content with less, for it runs into a handful of silver a day for her opium, but at her age we do not dare to cross her and she wants it all.” And he sighed as he spoke, and be glanced secretly at his uncle’s son, but the man said nothing, only stared to see what his mother had become, and when she fell back and into her sleep again, he rose and clattered forth, using his gun as a stick in his hand.
None of the horde of idle men in the outer courts did Wang Lung and his family hate and fear as they did this cousin of theirs; this, although the men tore at the trees and the flowering shrubs of plum and almond and broke them as they would, and though they crushed the delicate carvings of chairs with their great leathern boots, and though they sullied with their private filth the pools where the flecked and golden fish swam, so that the fish died and floated on the water and rotted there, with their white bellies upturned.
For the cousin ran in and out as he would and he cast eyes at the slaves and Wang Lung and his sons looked at each other out of their eyes haggard and sunken because they dared not sleep. Then Cuckoo saw it and she said,
“Now there is only one thing to do, he must be given a slave for his pleasure while he is here, or else he will be taking where he should not”
And Wang Lung seized eagerly on what she said because it seemed to him he could not endure his life any more with all the trouble there was in his house, and so he said,
“It is a good thought”
And he bade Cuckoo go and ask the cousin what slave he would have since he had seen them all.
So Cuckoo did, then, and she came back and she said,
“He says he will have the little pale one who sleeps on the bed of the mistress.”
Now this pale slave was called Pear Blossom and the one Wang Lung had bought in a famine year when she was small and piteous and half-starved, and because she was delicate always they had petted her and allowed her only to help Cuckoo and to do the lesser things about Lotus, filling her pipe and pouring her tea, and it was thus the cousin had seen her.
Now when Pear Blossom heard this she cried out as she poured the tea for Lotus, for Cuckoo said it all out before them in the inner court where they sat, and she dropped the pot and it broke into pieces on the tiles and the tea all streamed out, but the maid did not see what she had done. She only threw herself down before Lotus and she knocked her head on the tiles and she moaned forth,
“Oh, my mistress, not I—not I—I am afraid of him for my life—”
And Lotus was displeased with her and she answered pettishly,
“Now he is only a man and a man is no more than a man with a maid and they are all alike, and what is this ado?” And she turned to Cuckoo and said, “Take this slave and give her to him.”
Then the young maid put her hands together piteously and cried as though she would die of weeping and fear and her little body was all trembling with her fear, and she looked from this face to that, beseeching with her weeping.
Now the sons of Wang Lung could not speak against their father’s wife, nor could their wives speak if they did not, nor could the youngest son, but he stood there staring at her, his hands clenched on his bosom and his brows drawn down over his eyes, straight and black. But he did not speak. The children and the slaves looked and were silent, and there was only the sound of this dreadful, frightened weeping of the young girl.
But Wang Lung was made uncomfortable by it, and he looked at the young girl doubtfully, not caring to anger Lotus, but still moved, because he had always a soft heart. Then the maid saw his heart in his face and she ran and held his feet with her hands and she bent her head down to his feet and wept on in great sobs. And he looked down at her and saw how small her shoulders were and how they shook and he remembered the great, coarse, wild body of his cousin, now long past his youth, and a distaste for the thing seized him and he said to Cuckoo, his voice mild,
“Well now, it is ill to force the young maid like this.”
These words be said mildly enough, but Lotus cried out sharply,
“She is to do as she is told, and I say it is foolish, all this weeping over a small thing that must happen soon or late with all women.”
But Wang Lung was indulgent and he said to Lotus,
“Let us see first what else can be done, and let me buy for you another slave if you will, or what you will, but let me see what can be done.”
Then Lotus, who had long been minded for a foreign clock and a new ruby ring, was suddenly silent and Wang Lung said to Cuckoo,
“Go and tell my cousin the girl has a vile and incurable disease, but if he will have her with that, then well enough and she shall come to him, but if he fears it as we all do, then tell him we have another and a sound one.”
And he cast his eyes over the slaves who stood about and they turned away their faces and giggled and made as if they were ashamed, all except one stout wench, who was already twenty or so, and she said with her face red and laughing,
“Well, and I have heard enough of this thing and I have a mind to try it, if he will have me, and he is not so hideous a man as some.”
Then Wang Lung answered in relief,
“Well, go then!”
And Cuckoo said,
“Follow close behind me, for it will happen, I know, that he will seize the fruit nearest to him.” And they went out.
But the little maid still clung to Wang Lung’s feet, only now she ceased her weeping and lay listening to what took place. And Lotus was still angry with her, and she rose and went into her room without a word. Then Wang Lung raised the maid gently and she stood before him, drooping and pale, and he saw that she had a little, soft, oval face, egg-shaped, exceedingly delicate and pale, and a little pale red mouth. And he said kindly,
“Now keep away from your mistress for a day or two, my child, until she is past her anger, and when that other one comes in, hide, lest he desire you again.”
And she lifted her eyes and looked at him full and passionately, and she passed him, silent as a shadow, and was gone.
The cousin lived there for a moon and a half and he had the wench when he would and she conceived by him and boasted in the courts of it. Then suddenly the war called and the horde went away quickly as chaff caught and driven by the wind, and there was nothing left except the filth and destruction they had wrought. And Wang Lung’s cousin girded his knife to his waist and he stood before them with his gun over his shoulder and he said mockingly,