Tzu-chun was not as quiet and considerate as she used to be. The room was always cluttered with bowls and dishes and filled with smoke from the stove, making work difficult. I had only myself to blame for not being able to afford a study, but there was Ah Sui, and there were the chickens—growing larger and larger, and more and more frequently the cause of quarrels between the two families.
On top of everything else, there were the meals, as "unceasing as the flowing rivers." It seemed that Tzu-chun's only interest and achievement in life was expressed in this matter of meals. After eating there was the problem of money; after the money had been raised, again there was the matter of eating; then Ah Sui had to be fed, and the chickens. Tzuchun seemed to have forgotten everything that she had ever known; she did not realize that my train of thoughts was frequently interrupted by her repeated announcements that dinner was ready. Even if I should take no trouble to hide my annoyance at table, she did not seem to sense it, but ate heartily as if nothing had happened.
It took five weeks to make her see that my work could not be regulated to fit in with the schedule of meals, and when she finally saw the situation, she probably did not like it, though she said nothing. As a consequence, my work began to proceed more rapidly. I turned out about fifty thousand words in a short time, which after some revision I would be able to send out, together with two other short pieces, to The Friend of Liberty. Food, however, remained a cause of annoyance. I did not mind its being cold but I did mind when there was not enough of it. Sometimes there was not even enough rice, though my appetite was considerably smaller than it used to be, as I stayed home at the desk all day. There was not enough to eat because she fed Ah Sui first, including
