“I wonder what he wants.”
“Well, he’s a beggar. He’ll probably ask for alms.”
The visitor who was shown in by the little girl servant while the two were talking was a grotesque Buddhist priest, tall and with eyes like amethysts. He was in a yellow robe, and his frizzly hair hung down over his shoulders troublesomely. With his red-handled fly-whisk in his hand, he stood ungainly in the center of the room. He neither made any sign of greeting nor opened his mouth.
Liu waited for a little, but meanwhile somehow becoming uneasy, he asked,
“Is there something you want with me?”
Then the mountain priest said, “You’re the man, aren’t you? The one that’s fond of wine?”
“Uh,” said Liu vaguely, the question being so sudden, and he looked at Master Sun as if asking help. That worthy was coolly placing men on the checker board all by himself. He showed no signs of taking any notice.
“You’re suffering from a strange disease. Do you know that?” said the mountain priest emphatically.
At the word “disease,” Liu looked dubious and, stroking his Dutch wife of bamboo, said,
“Disease, did you say?”
“Yes.”
“No, not since my infancy—,” Liu began, when the bonze interrupted him.
“You never get drunk when you drink, do you?”
Staring at the priest’s face, Liu closed his mouth. In truth, however much he drank, this man had never been drunk.
“That proves it’s a disease,” said the mountain priest, and then, smiling a little, he added, “There’s a wine worm in your belly. Unless you get rid of it, you’ll never get well. I’ve come to cure you.”
“Can you?” asked Liu involuntarily in an uncertain voice. Then he was ashamed of it himself.
“That’s just why I’ve come.”
Then Sun, who up till now had sat silently listening to the dialogue, put in a word.
“Will you use some sort of medicine?”
“No, there’s no need to use medicine,” answered the mountain priest curtly.
Master Sun had always despised both Buddhism and Taoism almost beyond reason. So when he was with Taoist or Buddhist priests he seldom talked. The reason he now suddenly spoke was that his interest was aroused by the name, “wine worm,” for when he heard it, being fond of wine himself, he grew a little uneasy lest there might be such a worm in his own belly. But when he heard the mountain priest’s grudging answer, he felt as if he had been made a fool of and, frowning, began to place the men silently on the board again. And at the same time, he began to feel in his own mind that his host Liu was a fool ever to have seen such an arrogant priest.
Of course Liu payed no attention.
“Then will you use a needle?”
“No, it’s easier than that.”
“Then is it magic?”
“No, it’s not magic either.”
After this little colloquy, the mountain priest briefly explained the treatment. According to his explanation, the only thing necessary was to strip naked and remain motionless in the sunshine. This seemed to Liu very easy. If he could be cured that easily, nothing could be better than to have himself cured. Moreover, though unconsciously, he had a little curiosity to see how it would feel to be cured by this mountain priest.
So at last, making a little bow with his head, he said,
“Then please just cure me once.”
Thus Liu came to be lying naked in the broiling sun on the flailing floor.
And as the mountain priest said that he must not move, he was all wound round with a cord. Then one of Liu’s servants was ordered to bring an unglazed jar with wine in it and put it near Liu’s head. Of course, since he happened to be present, it was decided that Master Sun, his good drinking companion, should remain in attendance at this curious cure.
No one except the mountain priest knew what a wine worm was, or what would happen when it was no longer in the stomach, or what the jar by Liu’s head was for. Then you may think that Liu lying out in the burning heat naked without knowing what he was doing was a stupid fellow, but ordinary people receiving a school education are really doing very much the same sort of thing.
III
It was hot. Sweat came out on his forehead little by little, and no sooner would it form into beads than they would suddenly run warmly into his eyes. Unfortunately, being tied up with the cord, he of course could not wipe them away with his hands. Then he tried to change their course by moving his head, but the effort made him feel as if he was going to be violently dizzy, so he regretfully gave up this plan, too. Meanwhile the sweat, without the least ceremony, wet his eyelids, and going around his nose and mouth, ran down under his chin. It was extremely disagreeable.
Until then, he had kept his eyes open blinking at the scorching white sky and the field of hemp with its drooping leaves, but after the sweat began to run profusely, he was obliged to give up even that. Then Liu became aware for the first time that when sweat gets into the eyes, it smarts. So closing his eyes meekly with the expression of a sheep about to be slaughtered, he steadfastly let himself be burned by the sun, and now all over his face and body, every inch of skin on
