‘So, how are you going to settle this with the Buddha? That lousy 10 yuan? are you going to split it?’
Shush, the interpreter tries to quiet him down, and points towards the buildings amassed on one side of the mountain, and on the other side the breathtaking chasm, stop it, really, the interpreter nods at something in front of them; and already the first monastery buildings are visible, clearly this is the main street, teeming with monks, shops selling devotional objects and even lodgings — and they stop exactly here, they get out of the bus exactly here, the sun shines into their eyes and, completely blinded, they try to make out where they are, but there is just this sudden illumination and the sense that somewhere over there on the left there could be the mountain’s steep slope and the famous peak, about half a minute goes by until, as their eyes grow used to the light, suddenly they see the entire thing as one whole, and everywhere there are countless monasteries, they just stare at the buildings thickly woven across the side of the mountain, the wondrous yellow monastery walls and the green and the green everywhere, they gaze at the monks flocking around them curiously, further on are the paths leading up from the main street towards the monasteries — and everything is forgotten, he will try to figure out later, Stein decides, what was intended by this insignificant petty theft, how to explain it, and in generaclass="underline" what did it mean, what was its import, had he really misunderstood, when suddenly the female pilgrim or nun with the serious face comes over to him and, in the friendliest possible manner, explains to the interpreter — when she sees that only he understands Chinese — that the entrance in front of which they are waiting is that of some lodgings, it is quite adequate, they can go inside, she shows them, this is not the case for all the lodgings in Jiuhuashan, she warns them good-naturedly, not every one is. . good, she tilts her head, but this one is, you can stay in this one, and so, smiling, she waves farewell with a delicate movement and as if a little in excuse for the unpleasantness which they had to suffer because of her companion, she sets off on one of the paths with quick tiny steps, up into the heights, towards a monastery, in order to reach her companion, the guilty one who, with a freshness belying her age, is already running, and for a while they can still see that naive, lovable, dear face which just shines and shines in this sharp pure sunlight, as she turns to look at them now and again as if she wanted to show them, until she is finally swallowed up by the green of the path, that nothing, but nothing will ever wipe away that admired, illusory innocence from that face — ever.