Disclaimer: The Story of the Stone belongs to China's rich literary history, and was written by Cao Xueqin.
Author's Notes: I do not presume to have any literary talent, but I detest Gao E's ending to the series, and have decided to write the end myself. For a brief background on this series, read the following paragraph.
Cao Xueqin wrote The Story of the Stone in eighteenth century China. The last forty chapters were either unwritten before his death, or destroyed and written out by Gao E, possibly under the guidance of the Emperor of the time. Gao E's ending begins with the eighty-first chapter and is powered by a political or social agenda that favors Confucianism and advocates an ending which, to anyone who has read the first eighty chapters, is clearly not the one intended by Cao Xueqin.
Therefore, I am going to use all the foreshadowing that I can find to construct my own ending. Please pardon my lack of knowledge concerning the culture of the time-- I am going to do my best, but my background is in Japan and Japanese, not China, and especially not eighteenth century China.
My story begins from the moment Cao Xueqin's work ends. To understand it, I recommend reading the version translated by Penguin Classics, as that's what I'll be using as a basis.
Also, if you would like an update, a single request will be enough to keep me going. I already have the basic outline written out. All reviewers will be personally thanked.
Oh, and a final note: In my last chapter, I will post an essay explaining how I used foreshadowing to decide what would happen in the end. Any questions that remain may be asked, and I will answer as soon as I have a chance.
Here we begin at last.
The True End of the Story of the Stone: Bao-yu and Infidelity
Ying-chun's departure left Bao-yu feeling distinctly uncomfortable. He had seen the distress that his dear cousin was going through, and it chafed that he was unable to assuage her pain in the slightest. For days, he was listless. The maids took no note of it, as he had only recently come out of his convalescence, and it was only to be expected that he might throw a tantrum now and again.
As the days passed, Bao-yu's helplessness was gradually drowned out by the frustration and indignation that Ying-chun's situation caused him to feel. At last, he could take it no longer. That next morning, he traveled over to the Naiad's House, hoping to discuss his plans with Dai-yu. When he arrived, he found her resting. Not wanting to disturb her, as she had been so ill lately, he set off instead for Grandmother Jia's apartment.
"It doesn't matter whether I am held responsible or not," he told himself, "Only that Ying-chun's situation improve."
When he reached Grandmother Jia's apartment, however, he found the nearby maids frantic with worry. Several of them were on the verge of weeping, barely suppressing their tears. Ying-chun's condition set temporarily out of mind, he asked what had happened.
"Her Old Ladyship has taken ill again," one told him.
"It seems as though it could take a turn for the worst," said another, promptly bursting into tears, only to be shushed by another maid, one more fearful of causing an ill omen.
Bao-yu hurried into the room to find Grandmother Jia in a bad state. Her eyelids were fluttering weakly, and her lips and fingertips were trembling. As he came near, she was seized by a great cough that brought up blood. Tears sprang into Bao-yu's eyes, and Faithful, holding out the spittoon to Grandmother Jia, began to sob silently.
"Bao-yu?" Grandmother Jia whispered, squinting at him.
"Yes?" Bao-yu replied, stepping forward to kneel at her side.
"Bao-yu, I have had a dream," she said, her voice weak, "In that dream, I saw what would become of our family. The buildings were empty, our servants were gone, and our people were in disgrace. The Garden had been lost to flames. Promise me that you will study hard, Bao-yu."
As she reached the end of her request, her voice faded until it was almost inaudible. For a long moment, she lay still, and the maids began to keen their lament. Bao-yu's eyes were so blurred by tears that he couldn't see her chest rise and fall with her breaths, and he assumed the worst. As he began to sob in earnest, however, coughs racked Grandmother Jia's body once more.
"I promise, Granny," Bao-yu said, over the sound. The tense lines in Grandmother Jia's forehead smoothed, and she fell silent once again.