think, when you get to the lower world, those two ghost husbands will fight over you. Whom would they give you to The Great King Yenlo could only have you sawed in two and divided between them . . . "
Sister Hsiang-lin was terrified: this was something that she had not heard about in the hills.
"I think you should atone for your crime while there is still time. Donate a doorsill to the T'u-ti temple as your effigy, so that you might be trampled upon by a thousand men's feet and straddled over by ten thousand men's legs as atonement for your great sin. Then you may escape the tortures in store for you."
Sister Hsiang-lin did not say anything then, but she must have been deeply affected. The next day she got up with black rings around her eyes. After breakfast she went to the T'u-ti temple on the western edge of the village to donate the doorsill. At first the keeper would not accept the gift, but her tears and entreaties finally prevailed and he accepted the offer at the price of 12,000 cash.
She had not spoken with anyone for a long time, for she had become an avoided object because of the tiresome story about her Ah Mao; nevertheless, after her conversation with Liu-ma—which seemed to have been broadcast immediately—people began to take a new interest in her and would try to coax her to talk. As to the subject, it was naturally a new one, centering upon the scar on her forehead.
"Sister Hsiang-lin, let me ask you, why did you finally give in?" one would say.
"Ai, too bad you broke your head for nothing," another would echo, looking at her scar.
From their faces and voices she gathered that they were making fun of her; she only stared vacantly and said nothing,
