“Do you mean what you say?” asked the girl.

“But you know that Li Chia has neither money nor clothes, and cannot procure any.”

“I am not jesting,” answered the old woman.

“Then how much must he give to take me away?”

“If any one else were in question, I should demand several thousand ounces.  Alas!  This beggar cannot pay them!  So I shall be satisfied with three hundred ounces, with which to buy another ‘tinted face.’  If he brings them within three days, I will take the silver with my left hand and give the girl with my right.  But after three days, it matters not at all to me that three times seven are twenty-one; Lord or no Lord, I shall beat out this young spark with my broom, and you must bear no grudge for it.”

“In spite of all, he should be able to borrow three hundred ounces.  But three days is too little; he will need ten.”

“Ten days!” cried the other.  “A hundred would be more like!  Yet so be it.  I will wait ten days.”

“If he cannot get the money, he will not have the face to return.  My only fear is that you will go back on your promise, if he does bring the three hundred ounces.”

“I am nearly fifty-one years old,” answered the ma-ma.  “Ten times I have offered the great sacrifices.  How should I dare not to keep my word?  If you mistrust me, let us strike the palms of our hands together to fix the agreement.  Nay, if I break my word, may I be changed into a pig or dog!”

That same evening, by the pillow-side, Shih-niang explained how her body might be re-bought, and Li Qua said: 

“That would delight me, but how can I pay so much?  My purse is as empty as if it had been washed.”

“Your slave has arranged all with the ma-ma.  She requires three hundred ounces within ten days.  Even if you have spent all that your family gave you for your journey, you have still some friends or relations from whom you can borrow.  Then you will have me entirely to yourself, and I shall never again have to endure that woman’s anger.”

“Since I became obsessed by our love, my friends and relations have ceased to recognize me.  But perhaps, if I asked them to help me to pay for my journey I might make up the sum.”

In the morning, when he had arranged his hair and, clothed himself, and was about to leave Shih-niang, she said to him: 

“Do your uttermost, and come back to me with good news.”

He went to all his relations and friends, pretending that he was taking leave of them before his departure.  They all congratulated him; but when he spoke of the expenses of the journey and asked for a loan, all, without exception, told him that they could do nothing.  His friends knew the weakness of his character, and that he was besotted with love for some “Flower-in-the-Mist” or other.  He had remained in Peking, up to that time, they knew, not daring to face his father’s anger.  Was this departure genuine, now, or but pretended?  If he spent the borrowed money on “tinted faces,” would not his father bear a grudge against those who lent it?  The most he could get together was from ten to twenty ounces.