When he opened his eyes the sun was again shining on the west wall. He sat up, muttering, "Their mothers' ."
He wandered about the street as usual and soon sensed that there was something else wrong with the world, though this was not quite so poignantly felt as the need for raiment. It appeared that the women of Wei had suddenly become very shy, retreating behind their gates as soon as they saw him coming, so much so that even Sister Tsou, who was almost fifty years old, hid herself with the rest, calling in her eleven-year-old daughter. Ah Q was mystified. "Trying to imitate the young ladies: the harlots!"
What made the world seem amiss more than anything else was a development of some days later. First, the tavern would extend him no more credit; second, the old attendant of the temple mumbled at him, as though wishing to get rid of him; third, for many days, though he could not tell just how many, no one had offered him work. He could abstain from drinking to meet the denial of credit at the tavern; mumble excuses to put off the temple attendant; but when no one offered him work it had the positive effect of making him feel a gnawing hunger, a state of affairs to call forth many a "Their mothers' ."
He could endure it no longer. He made the rounds of his old employers—excepting the Chaos—and asked about odd jobs. He was received in a different manner from formerly: invariably a male came out with annoyance in his face and waved his hands as though dismissing a beggar—"Nothing here! Go away!"
Ah Q was completely mystified. They used to have a lot of work to be done, he thought, how could they have suddenly ceased to have any work at all? There must be something behind this state of affairs. He made inquiries and
