The man who lay naked under the blazing sun was the owner of the flailing floor, Liu Tai-cheng, one of the prominent rich men of Changshan. His only pleasure was drinking, and all day long he and his cup were practically inseparable. And since “he drank up a jar of wine every time he helped himself,” he was no ordinary drinker. But as has already been intimated, he owned “three hundred acres of rich suburban fields, of which one half was planted to millet,” there was no fear whatever of his drinking playing havoc with his fortune.

And the reason he was lying naked in the hot sun was this: That day as Liu leaned on a Dutch wife of bamboo in an airy room playing checkers with Master Sun, one of his fellow tipplers (the Confucian scholar with the white fan), a little girl servant had come to him and said,

“A priest who says he’s from Pao Chang S’su or some such temple has just come and says he must see you. What shall I do?”

“What? Pao Chang S’su?” said Liu, and he blinked his little eyes as if dazzled; then raising his hot-looking fat body, he said, “Well, then, show him in here.” Then glancing at Master Sun, he added, “It’s probably that priest.”

The priest of Pao Chang S’su was a mountain priest from Hsisu. He was famous in the neighborhood for his healing ability and the administering of aphrodisiacs. For instance, there were afloat many all but miraculous rumors of the sudden change for the better of this man’s amaurosis or of the immediate recovery of that man from sterility. Both Liu and Sun had heard these rumors. On what errand could this mountain priest have deliberately called at Liu’s? Of course Liu himself had not the least recollection of ever having sent for him.

You should know that Liu was not at all such a man as to be pleased at the arrival of a caller. But if, when he had one guest, another came, he usually received him quite gladly. This was because he had a childish vanity that we may even say made him proud to have one visitor in the presence of another. Moreover, this mountain priest was highly spoken of everywhere at that time. He was by no means a visitor to be ashamed of. The motives that moved Liu to say he would see him lay for the greater part in such considerations.

“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 [Pg 81]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.

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