Vesperus did not finish his tea, but left half a cup in tribute to his hostess, a gesture that she acknowledged with a smile before handing him the silk. As he received it, he took the chance to squeeze her hand, and she, although affecting not to notice, responded by scratching his hand with a fingernail.
"This is an excellent roll," said the Knave. "Let's take it and be on our way."
He gave the purse to Vesperus, who weighed out the amount she asked for and handed it over.
"Please note that it's in full ingots," he said.
"If it's in full ingots," she replied, "I'm afraid it may look good on the outside but be worthless inside."
"If you're worried about it, ma'am, why not keep both the silk and the silver here and this evening I'll come back and break open one of the ingots and try it out for you? I'm not exaggerating when I say that our silver is as good as we are, the same on the inside as on the outside."
"That won't be necessary," she said. "If it's all right, we can do business again. Otherwise you'll be a one-time customer."
Picking up the silk, the Knave urged Vesperus out of the shop. As he left, Vesperus cast several lingering glances behind. Although she couldn't see, she understood and narrowed her eyes to two slits in an expression that was neither happy nor sad.
Back at his lodgings, Vesperus conferred with the Knave. "I feel I have an excellent chance there. But what means of entry shall we use? We can't afford to take any risks."
"I've made careful inquiries," said the Knave, "and there's no one else in the house except that maid we saw just now. She's only ten or eleven. She'll be asleep as soon as she falls into bed and won't hear a sound the rest of the night. The house is obvious enough-no upstairs, no cellar. It won't hold me up in the least. If we go through the wall, someone will spot us and you won't be able to pay her a second visit. I'll just have to carry you up to the roof on my back, remove a few tiles, pull out a rafter, and let you descend from on high."
"What if the neighbors hear and cry thief?"
"With me beside you, that's not likely to happen, so don't worry. The one thing that concerns me is her remark-did you hear?-that she was afraid you might look good on the outside but be worthless inside, and that if you didn't please her you'd be a one-time customer. Doesn't it bear out what I told you? You'll have to do your damnedest not to let her flunk you. Otherwise you'll be admitted to a first examination but not to a second or a third."
"It will never come to that," said Vesperus. "If you doubt me, why not keep watch from some vantage point?"
They joked together while waiting impatiently for "the golden crow to descend in the west and the jade hare to rise in the east," when the time would come for Vesperus's examination. But we do not yet know what method the examiner will adopt and will have to wait until the questions are handed out.
CRITIQUE
Fiction is parable and, as such, its content is obviously not factual. I hope that readers will not distort the author's intention by focusing on his literal meaning. The surgical implant of a dog's member into a human being, as related in this chapter, is a palpable absurdity, which implies that Vesperus's actions are going to be bestial in nature. Similarly, in Chapter Three, when he swore friendship with the Knave and even acknowledged him as an elder brother, the implication was that his character and aspirations were lower than those of a burglar. Both incidents are scathing expressions of deep loathing, tantamount to reviling him as a cur or a crook. People must not mistake condemnation for praise and fantasy for reality and think it right to mutilate dogs and fraternize with burglars. But if the bearer of the warning is slandered as the promoter of the very vice he is warning against, he will merely be sharing the same fate that writers have always suffered.
In Chapter Six, the Knave described this woman as prudish, as unversed in passion, whereas in the silk-shop incident in this chapter she matches Vesperus blow for blow in repartee. Not only is she not prudish, she is extremely seductive, a fact that flatly contradicts what the Knave has said. No doubt ignorant readers had concluded that the novel's stitching was not fine enough and had criticized the author for it, never dreaming that he would have nearsightedness in mind as a pivot, and that that was the reason for the apparent inconsistency. The author deliberately set an ingenious ambush so as to lure people into attacking him-a clear case of literary deception. The reason the woman was described as prudish is that she was nearsighted; she didn't see the handsome young man in front of her and had no occasion to behave seductively. Similarly the reason she is now shown as seductive is also that she is nearsighted; suddenly she sees a handsome young man in front of her and cannot maintain her prudishness any longer. Obviously nearsighted women should never be allowed to set eyes on handsome young men. Readers should understand that the author is using her as an example in his moral instruction of women, not just as a means of livening up his plot.
CHAPTER NINE
Poem:
Let us tell now of Honest Quan's wife, whose childhood name was Fragrance. Her father was a village schoolmaster who gave her lessons in reading and writing from early childhood. She proved an extremely apt pupil, and because she was also very pretty, her parents were unwilling to rush her into an early marriage. When she was fifteen, a young student who had topped the list in the Boys' Examination sent a go-between along with a proposal, and Fragrance's father, who felt the youth showed some promise, betrothed her to him. Unfortunately after just one year of marriage he died of general debility.
Fragrance remained in mourning for a full year before marrying Honest Quan. Although hers was a highly sensual nature, she had a good grasp of basic principle, and whenever she heard talk of some woman's going astray, she would laugh at her behind her back, on one occasion declaring to her companions, "Because we failed to cultivate our virtue in our last existence, we've been born female in this one and are forced to spend our lives in the women's quarters. There's no sightseeing or visiting for us, as there is for men. Sex is the one diversion we have in our lives, and surely no one can tell us not to enjoy that! But we were created man and wife by Heaven and Earth and matched in marriage by our parents, and so naturally it is right and proper to enjoy ourselves with our husbands, while sex with any other man is a moral transgression. If our husbands hear of it, it will bring us curses and a beating, and if the news becomes public, it will create a scandal. Beatings and scandal aside, if a woman does not have sex, well and good. But if she is going to have it, she should at least see that she enjoys it. After all, when you're with your husband after the day's work is done, you undress, get into bed together, and take things from the beginning in an ordered, leisurely way until eventually you reach a degree of ecstasy. What enjoyment is there in some furtive, fumbling encounter in which your only concern in the midst of your panic is to finish up as hastily as possible, whether you've hit the mark or not? What's more, there's nothing to eat when you're famished and more than enough when you're well fed and, just as with food and drink, you get sick from the continual feast and famine. How ridiculous those women are who go astray! Why didn't they use those same eyes to pick out a good husband in the first place as they used for picking out a lover later on? If they're impressed by a mere name, let them choose someone cultivated. If it's appearance they want, let them choose someone good-looking. And if it's neither a name nor good looks that attracts them, but the reality of sexual performance, they ought to find someone robust and vigorous. That way they'll not go wrong and they'll be able to enjoy the real thing. There's simply no need to abandon your husband and take a lover!"