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 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.