“I am cured,” he announced, “And all goes very well.”

Meanwhile the old woman was saying:  “The family of Chou has sent me especially to talk to you about a marriage.”

All was soon settled, the first gifts were exchanged, and the comforted hearts of the two young people were filled with joy.  But they had to wait Lord Chou’s return before proceeding with the ceremony.

Chou did not come back until eight months later.  It is needless to say that, when he did so, all his relations and friends came to drink cups of wine with him to “wash down the dust of the journey.”  At last his wife told him what had happened, affirming that all was decided.  But the eyes of the master of the house became round and white, and he bellowed: 

“O filthy imbecile, who gave you the right to betroth our daughter to a wine merchant?  Is there no son of decent family who would marry her?  Do you wish to make us a laughing-stock?”

While he was thus cursing his wife, the servant came up to them, crying: 

“Come quickly and save the child!  She was behind the door, and heard your cries.  She fell down and is no longer breathing.”

Stumbling in her haste, the mother ran out.  She saw her daughter lying on the ground and was about to raise her, but her husband prevented her, saying: 

“Leave her!  She was bringing dishonor on us!  If she is to die, then let her die!”

Seeing her mistress held back, Kind-Welcome bent over the girl.  But Chou, with a blow that made the air whistle between his fingers sent her against the wall.  In his rage, he seized his wife and shook her roughly, and she howled like a dog.  The neighbors heard her and ran in, fearing that there was disaster.  Soon the room was filled with women, all talking at the same time.  But the master of it roughly bade them be silent: 

“I do not allow any spying upon my private affairs.”

The neighbors retired in discomfort, and the mother threw herself upon her daughter’s body, whose ends were already cold.  She sobbed: 

“You would not have died if I had come to you.  O murderer, you have let her die of set purpose.  You did not want to give her the four or five thousand ounces which her grandfather left her.”

He went out, panting like a boar with anger.  The mother did not cease to lament her loss:  her daughter had been so gentle and so clever.  At length the time came to shut down the coffin, and Chou angrily said to his wife: 

“You pretend that I let her die so as not to lose four thousand ounces?  I order you to put all her jewels in the tomb with her.  That is more than five thousand ounces, one would think.”

They brought in the wu-tso, the Inspector of Corpses, and also his assistant, to verify the death and to help in hearsing her.  The keeper of the family graveyard and his brother, the two Chang, were also there to assist in the mournful work.