However, because he was a young man in his prime, a certain tumescence made itself felt after a week or two of this harsh regime. His answer was to add a cummerbund to hide this one shortcoming of his from women's prying eyes. As for his other, outstanding features, he was still more than willing to flaunt them.

One day while walking along one of the streets, he observed a young woman open her door curtain and start chatting with a neighbor across the street, revealing her profile as she did so. Seeing this from a distance, he at once shortened his pace and advanced very slowly to listen to her voice and look at her face. Her enunciation was as clear, sweet, and perfectly cadenced as the sound of a panpipe or a flute; every word she uttered left an echo lingering in the ear. On reaching her doorway, Vesperus looked closely at her face and figure. She bore a strong resemblance to the woman the Knave had described: her face was like a priceless pearl radiating light while her figure was like a great beauty's portrait swaying in the breeze behind the curtain. "Perhaps she is the one he mentioned," he surmised.

After a moment's observation, he walked past a few more houses and then asked a bystander, "Is there a silk merchant here by the name of Honest Quan? You wouldn't happen to know where he lives, I suppose?"

"You've just passed his house," said the bystander. "Inside that curtain there, where the woman is talking-that's his place."

His hunch confirmed, Vesperus turned around and took another good look at her before going back to his lodgings. When the Knave described her beauty to me, he thought, I didn't believe him. I felt that, although he claimed to be a connoisseur, he might not be the best judge of quality. I never dreamed he'd have such a marvelous eye! Since he judged this one so perfectly, it goes without saying that his judgment of the other two will be equally reliable. To think that such classic beauties are available and such an extraordinary gallant stands ready to help, and yet I'm missing out on three heaven-sent chances just because this thing of mine has let me down! Oh, the frustration of it all!

After a moment's fury he shut his door, undid his belt, and, taking out his penis, examined it from every angle. Then rage seized him again and he longed to fetch a sharp knife and cut it off, ridding himself forever of this sorry excuse for a penis that was attached to his body for all to see. After a moment he launched into a bitter tirade: "This is all the Lord of Heaven's fault! If you wanted to indulge me, you should have indulged me all the way; why did you have to leave me with this handicap? My looks and talent are only for show, they're of no practical use. You endowed me liberally enough with them, but in the case of this all-important item you wouldn't even lift a finger to help! Do you mean to tell me that adding a few inches to its length and circumference would have cost you any endowment? Why not use someone else's surplus to make up my shortage? Even if bodily material can't be exchanged once people have been endowed, why not take some flesh from my own legs, some sinew from under my skin, some of my body's strength, and redistribute it here? That would have been ample. Instead, why did you take the material needed here and distribute it elsewhere, so that what I really need becomes useless and the things I don't need I have too much of? No doubt about it, this is all the Lord of Heaven's fault! I've seen this beautiful girl, but I don't dare make a move. I'm like a starving man who sees a dish of food with the most wonderful aroma but can't swallow it because his mouth is full of sores. It's enough to make one weep!" And he began to sob bitterly.

Later he went over to the temple, where he strolled about trying to shake off his depression. There he happened to notice a new poster stuck on the screen wall outside the temple gate. Its message, cast in the form of a four-line verse, differed from all the other messages; it was as if the Lord of Heaven had heard his piteous weeping and sent an immortal down to Earth to relieve his misery. It read,

A TRUE MAN FROM A DISTANT LAND

HAS COME TO TEACH THE BEDROOM ART.

HE CAN TAKE A PUNY GROIN

AND TURN IT INTO A MIGHTY PART.

The space beneath the poem, which was in large script, was filled with a line or two of tiny characters:

Passing through this area, I have taken lodging in room ____________________ in the ____________________ Temple. Those interested in receiving instruction should make haste to honor me with a visit. If they delay, they will be too late for a consultation.

Vesperus read both poem and postscript several times. So great was his astonishment that he burst into wild laughter. "What an amazing thing! Just when I'm at my wit's end about the size of my penis, along comes this immortal peddling his art and puts up a poster where I happen to see it! It has to be Heaven's will!"

He flew into the temple, sealed up some introductory gifts, and put them into a small box, which he had one of his pages carry while he found his way to the address given in the poster.

The adept in question proved to be an old man of awe-inspiring appearance, with a boyish face and white hair. At the sight of Vesperus he folded his hands in front of him and asked, "Well, my good sir, have you come to study the bedroom art?"

"Yes," said Vesperus.

"Which program are you interested in, the one in altruism or the one in egotism?"

"Let me ask, venerable sir," said Vesperus, "what you mean by altruism and egotism?"

"If your sole desire is to serve the woman and bring her pleasure without attempting to gain any yourself, that is an easy art to learn. You just take a little sperm-suppressant to make your semen come more slowly, rub some analgesic ointment on your penis to numb it until it has no more feeling than a lump of iron, and you'll no longer care whether you spend or not. That's what I mean by altruism.

"If, on the other hand, you wish to attain pleasure with the woman, so that every sensation her vagina feels your penis feels too, and so that with every withdrawal you both come back to life and with every thrust you both begin to die, now that is mutual pleasure, true enjoyment. The trouble is that at the height of pleasure you will both inevitably want to spend, and the woman will be afraid of spending too late and the man of spending too soon. The most difficult art of all is to get the man to spend less the more he enjoys himself and the woman to enjoy herself more the more she spends. That kind of pleasure is much harder to attain; self-cultivation is the main requirement, supplemented by medication. If you wish to study it, you will have to accompany me on my travels for several years and gradually reach enlightenment before you attain the reality. It is not something that can be mastered in a day or a night."

"In that case I can't study it," said Vesperus. "It will have to be the course in altruism. I already have some of that vital medicine in my lodgings and I won't presume to ask you for more. But it's a commonplace technique at best, one that enables you to hold out but not to increase your size. Your poster claims that you can 'take a puny groin and turn it into a mighty part,' and that was what brought me here to seek instruction. What method is it, I wonder, that can actually effect a change?"

"There are various methods, from which one must choose according to the client's capacity. First, one must see the original size. Second, one must ask how much of an increase the client wants. And third, one must ask if he can bear it and if he is prepared to make the sacrifice. Only when those three questions have been answered can one decide which procedure to use. It is not a casual decision, by any means."