nstantly there’s loud shouting next door. they’re not shouting at you but amongst themselves: there are always winners and losers and the loser is trying to get out of paying. they’re openly gambling in the inn despite the public security office notice on the wall prohibiting gambling and prostitution: you decide to check whether the law has any effect. you put on some clothes， go down the corridor and knock on the half-closed door. your knocking makes no difference， they keep shouting and yelling inside and nobody takes notice. so you push open the door and go in. the four men sitting around the bed in the middle of the room all turn to look at you. but it’s you and not they who gets a rude shock. the men all have bits of paper stuck on their faces， on the forehead， lips， nose and cheeks， and they look ugly and ridiculous. they aren’t laughing and are glaring at you. you’ve butted in and they’re clearly annoyed.
"oh， you’re playing cards，" you say， putting on an apologetic look.
they go on with their game. the long paper cards have red and black markings like mahjong， there’s a gate of heaven and a prison of hell. the winner penalizes the loser by tearing off a strip of newspaper and sticking it on a designated spot. whether this is a prank， a way of letting off steam， or a tally， is ag……
[续soulmountain上一小节]reed upon by the gamblers and there is no way for outsiders to know what it’s all about.
you beat a retreat， go back to your room， lie down again， and see a thick mass of black specks around the light globe. millions of mosquitoes are waiting for the light to go out so that they can come down to feast on your blood. you quickly let down the mosquito net and are enclosed in a narrow conical space， at the top of which is a bamboo hoop. it’s been a long time since you’ve slept under a hoop like this， and you’ve long since passed the age of being able to stare at the hoop to lose yourself in reverie. today， you can’t know what tr
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