{"id":3640,"date":"2008-07-24T17:08:38","date_gmt":"2008-07-24T09:08:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/2008\/07\/24\/shu_zhai_shi_20080724\/"},"modified":"2025-09-15T15:25:53","modified_gmt":"2025-09-15T07:25:53","slug":"shu_zhai_shi_20080724","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/2008\/07\/24\/shu_zhai_shi_20080724\/","title":{"rendered":"[\u4e66\u6458]\u4e16\u754c\u4e3a\u4e86\u597d\u4eba\u800c\u9020\u5c31\u2014\u963f\u51e1\u63d0\u7684\u8eab\u4e16\u4e0e\u7ae5\u5e74(2)"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/2008\/07\/24\/afanti20080724\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">(Con\u00adtin\u00adued from the pre\u00advi\u00adous chap\u00adter)<\/a><br>\n<strong>Part 2: The Mys\u00adte\u00adri\u00adous Libra<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Now let us quick\u00adly talk about the sto\u00adry of Nass\u00ader al-Din Avan\u00adti\u2019s child\u00adhood.<!--more--><\/p>\n<p>He was a gift\u00aded busi\u00adness\u00adman, already craft\u00ading var\u00adi\u00adous pot\u00adtery pieces at just eight years old. On hot days, Sher\u00admah\u00admat would trust him with all the work, then retire to the tea\u00adhouse to relax. Busi\u00adness was quick in the hands of young Nas\u00ader al-Din, and the old man nev\u00ader wor\u00adried about any\u00adthing he entrust\u00aded to him.<\/p>\n<p>Once, when the young Nass\u00ader al-Din was sit\u00adting alone in his shop, a mer\u00adchant came and picked out a small earth\u00aden\u00adware jar to store hon\u00adey. He looked at the jars that could hold two chil\u00addren and said with a charm\u00ading smile:<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe clay pots are all big and round, but the ser\u00advants are tiny.\u201d<br>\nThe young Nass\u00ader al-Din imme\u00addi\u00adate\u00adly respond\u00aded with two lines of anti\u00adthet\u00adi\u00adcal poet\u00adry, say\u00ading:<br>\n\u201cThe client is a big shot, but the thing he bought is as small as a mouse.\u201d<br>\nAs a result, the cus\u00adtomer was speech\u00adless.<br>\nThe mer\u00adchant, who loved to read and recite poet\u00adry when\u00adev\u00ader he had free time and was very well versed in poet\u00adry, was both amazed and extreme\u00adly fond of this clever child. He stopped bar\u00adgain\u00ading with the child and imme\u00addi\u00adate\u00adly bought five more earth\u00aden\u00adware jars for a lot of mon\u00adey.<\/p>\n<p>When see\u00ading off the guests, the young Nass\u00ader al-Din gave them anoth\u00ader poem:<br>\n\u201cA clay pot is worth less than sil\u00adver, but filled with hon\u00adey, it is sweet and refresh\u00ading.\u201d<br>\nThe mer\u00adchant was delight\u00aded to hear this and was over\u00adjoyed. He took the trou\u00adble to write down these anti\u00adthet\u00adi\u00adcal vers\u00ades on paper, and they have been passed down to our time.<\/p>\n<p>He was tru\u00adly a war\u00adrior of the sea of com\u00admerce. The clam\u00adorous, bustling, and crowd\u00aded mar\u00adket\u00adplace nev\u00ader tired him. Amidst the nev\u00ader-end\u00ading swirl of human activ\u00adi\u00adty from morn\u00ading to night, he always kept his head down and strode briskly. It was in this ocean of com\u00admerce that some\u00adthing occurred that forged his intel\u00adlect and soul.<\/p>\n<p>One after\u00adnoon, he arrived at the old camel mar\u00adket. It was clos\u00ading time, and mer\u00adchants and cus\u00adtomers had all gone to rest to escape the scorch\u00ading heat. Near\u00adby, dozens of camels lay in the blaz\u00ading sun, drenched in sweat. Young Nass\u00ader al-Din, unfazed by the camels, weaved among them. His sil\u00adhou\u00adette was obscured by the herd, but his gold vel\u00advet flow\u00adered hat embroi\u00addered with red tas\u00adsels occa\u00adsion\u00adal\u00adly peeked out from between the humps. Noth\u00ading in this half-asleep are\u00adna held his inter\u00adest. He tried to pro\u00advoke a camel calf, but it, drowsy from the heat, sim\u00adply glanced at him with\u00adout anger or spit\u00adting, then turned its head away.<\/p>\n<p>Young Nas\u00ader al-Din thought for a moment and head\u00aded toward the Temu\u00adran Bridge, locat\u00aded at the gate known as the Khe\u00adgan\u00addi Gate. As he passed a large trad\u00ading inn, he heard shouts and laugh\u00adter com\u00ading from the inter\u00adsec\u00adtion, so he stopped. Feel\u00ading elat\u00aded, he nat\u00adu\u00adral\u00adly head\u00aded in that direc\u00adtion.<\/p>\n<p>He saw a group of street chil\u00addren his own age engag\u00ading in an amus\u00ading game. On the road beside the trad\u00ading inn, under the scorch\u00ading sun, sat an old beg\u00adgar woman from the most detestable of all gyp\u00adsies. The chil\u00addren laughed and shout\u00aded, call\u00ading her all sorts of unpleas\u00adant names and throw\u00ading clods of earth at her, delib\u00ader\u00adate\u00adly pro\u00advok\u00ading her.<\/p>\n<p>The old woman was excep\u00adtion\u00adal\u00adly ugly, even dis\u00adgust\u00ading: her bare head was cov\u00adered in sil\u00adver hair, a few yel\u00adlow fangs peeked out from her pur\u00adple lips, her nose was hooked blue, her eye\u00adlids were swollen and red, her eye\u00adlash\u00ades had all fall\u00aden out, and her wide-open eyes shone with a poi\u00adso\u00adnous light. Fur\u00adther\u00admore, in her arms, the old woman was hold\u00ading a black cat, so old that its fur had fall\u00aden off, and it was just as dis\u00adgust\u00ading as she was. In short, her appear\u00adance was exact\u00adly like a witch who kid\u00adnapped chil\u00addren and drank their blood.<\/p>\n<p>Young Nasered\u00addin imme\u00addi\u00adate\u00adly joined in the fun: he too shout\u00aded, hollered, and yelled at her, his tongue hang\u00ading out, and joined the oth\u00aders in jump\u00ading around her on one foot, bark\u00ading like a dog. The old woman raised her bony fists to threat\u00aden and curse them, and the cat, too, hunched over and purred angri\u00adly. It was all so ridicu\u00adlous that the chil\u00addren would occa\u00adsion\u00adal\u00adly burst into laugh\u00adter.<\/p>\n<p>Final\u00adly, the old woman bored them, and oth\u00ader games await\u00aded them on the Temuri\u00adan Bridge. They chased each oth\u00ader to the bridge, hop\u00ading to reach it before a tightrope-walk\u00ading per\u00adfor\u00admance began. The chil\u00addren quick\u00adly for\u00adgot about the old woman and her cat when sud\u00adden\u00adly a deaf\u00aden\u00ading cho\u00adrus of nagla drums, oth\u00ader large and small drums, suonas, and trum\u00adpets erupt\u00aded. As they watched the tightrope walk\u00aders soar through the air, their mem\u00ado\u00adries van\u00adished. A vague image of the old woman sud\u00adden\u00adly sur\u00adfaced in lit\u00adtle Naserdin\u2019s mind, a pang of pain in his heart, as if to leave a mark, but the sen\u00adsa\u00adtion van\u00adished in an instant.<\/p>\n<p>He played all day, then returned home by anoth\u00ader road and did not see the old woman again. He was telling Sher\u00adma\u00admati how he had spent the day when he remem\u00adbered the old woman and sud\u00adden\u00adly shut up.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with you?\u201d Sher\u00adma\u00adma asked.<br>\n\u201cToday I saw an old beg\u00adgar woman from the Gyp\u00adsies,\u201d lit\u00adtle Nasered\u00addin answered. \u201cShe had a black cat in her arms.\u2026 Then we all went to the Temuri\u00adan Bridge.\u201d<br>\nWhat he said was nei\u00adther true nor false; it was only half the truth\u2014which was worse than a lie. So at this moment his heart was stabbed again.<br>\nThen he went to bed. Tired from run\u00adning all day, young Naserdin slept sound\u00adly. But one night he was awak\u00adened by a night\u00admare: the old woman on the road leaped angri\u00adly at him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a deep pit. Inside the pit lay a large black cat, roar\u00ading, its eyes gleam\u00ading with feroc\u00adi\u00adty, hunched over him. This dream deeply dis\u00adtressed young Naserdin. Lis\u00adten\u00ading to Sher\u00admameti\u2019s heavy breath\u00ading and snor\u00ading, he felt a grow\u00ading pain with\u00adin him. He imag\u00adined the old wom\u00adan\u2019s cat leap\u00ading onto his chest, tear\u00ading at his heart with its claws.<\/p>\n<p>Thus he felt his first pangs of con\u00adscience, and felt that there was an invis\u00adi\u00adble, mys\u00adte\u00adri\u00adous scale with\u00adin him which weighed every par\u00adti\u00adcle of his bad behav\u00adior with\u00adout mer\u00adcy, and he also expe\u00adri\u00adenced how cru\u00adel the pres\u00adsure of this scale was.<\/p>\n<p>In order to get rid of the reproach of con\u00adscience, he tried to divert his thoughts to play, hedge\u00adhogs and swal\u00adlows, but it was no use! Although he did\u00adn\u2019t want to think about the old woman any\u00admore, his mind was always full of the image of the old woman.<\/p>\n<p>At this time, a strange thing hap\u00adpened: the more he thought about the old woman, the more he felt reproached in his heart, as if he had turned into the old woman \u2014 by dawn, three-quar\u00adters of him had turned into the old woman, and the remain\u00ading quar\u00adter had become com\u00adplete\u00adly oppo\u00adsite to him\u00adself, as lone\u00adly and unfor\u00adtu\u00adnate as the old woman. Lat\u00ader, the remain\u00ading quar\u00adter became even ugli\u00ader than the old woman, so that he burst into tears, his face full of tears.<\/p>\n<p>He under\u00adstood everything\u2014the old woman was utter\u00adly alone, mis\u00ader\u00adable, with\u00adout a sin\u00adgle rel\u00ada\u00adtive in the world. Was she despised sim\u00adply because she was born into a gyp\u00adsy tribe? Was she inher\u00adent\u00adly ugly? Oth\u00ader\u00adwise, why was she sub\u00adject\u00aded to this pun\u00adish\u00adment for her entire life? These streets, teem\u00ading with thou\u00adsands of peo\u00adple, were a desert to her\u2026 no, worse than a desert, for they were hate\u00adful and hos\u00adtile to her. Why did she always stare around with her eyes bulging, her back hunched? Because she was con\u00adstant\u00adly being whipped and mocked\u2014everything was a cru\u00adel blow to her. She had noth\u00ading but the black cat; she and the kit\u00adten lived togeth\u00ader, both old and frail, often starv\u00ading, des\u00adti\u00adtute, yet they shared a deep bond.<\/p>\n<p>When he under\u00adstood all this, how would he view him\u00adself now? How would he view his own immoral shout\u00ading, teas\u00ading, and mock\u00ading of the old woman? He was ter\u00adri\u00adfied. He felt heavy, and the more he thought about it, the angri\u00ader he became at him\u00adself. He even broke down sob\u00adbing over what he had done and buried his head in his pil\u00adlow.<\/p>\n<p>The next morn\u00ading he was in a state of dis\u00adplea\u00adsure, lost in thought. He ate some naan and drank some milk, then went out into the street. He placed a purse in his belt con\u00adtain\u00ading a few cop\u00adper coins, one and a half cents, worth two and a half sil\u00adver dol\u00adlars. Oth\u00aders might have thought it was just a small sum he had saved, but it was not. It was this small sum that lat\u00ader brought him good luck in the game.<\/p>\n<p>He hur\u00adried toward the old woman, encoun\u00adter\u00ading many tempt\u00ading things along the way: yogurt, iced drinks, toys, sweets\u2026 But he con\u00adtrolled him\u00adself, not unbuck\u00adling his belt along the way. Instead, he left his mon\u00adey behind and brave\u00adly walked on. At the entrance to a dead end, chil\u00addren were enthu\u00adsi\u00adas\u00adti\u00adcal\u00adly play\u00ading the Chi\u00adnese game of shut\u00adtle\u00adcock kick\u00ading, but he did\u00adn\u2019t stop. Lit\u00adtle Nasserdin was an excel\u00adlent shut\u00adtle\u00adcock kick\u00ader; no one could match him. Despite this, he turned his head and hur\u00adried on.<\/p>\n<p>He found the old woman in the same place, in front of the Trad\u00ading Inn. The cat lay on her knees, and the clay bowl she had been beg\u00adging for mon\u00adey was as emp\u00adty as it had been the day before. Peo\u00adple passed by her one after anoth\u00ader, but the old wom\u00adan\u2019s bowl remained emp\u00adty. The old woman stroked the cat, mum\u00adbling some\u00adthing to her\u00adself; the cat respond\u00aded with a faint meow, say\u00ading, \u201cYes, it\u2019s hun\u00adgry.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Young Nass\u00ader al-Din hid behind a half-col\u00adlapsed wall. He sud\u00adden\u00adly felt a lit\u00adtle scared. How should he approach the old woman? What should he say to her? He thought of throw\u00ading the purse in her face and run\u00adning away. But that would be out of place at such a solemn moment.<\/p>\n<p>All kinds of peo\u00adple passed by the old woman, but no one put a pen\u00adny or a piece of green-haired naan in her bowl. The young Nass\u00ader al-Din looked at this scene and mar\u00adveled in his heart: How can these peo\u00adple be so hard-heart\u00aded!<\/p>\n<p>His sur\u00adprise slow\u00adly turned to anger. Peo\u00adple passed by one after anoth\u00ader, and the old wom\u00adan\u2019s bowl remained emp\u00adty. Young Nasered\u00addin\u2019s blood boiled, his cheeks flushed. Why could\u00adn\u2019t these adults under\u00adstand some\u00adthing a child could? Today, he did\u00adn\u2019t see the old wom\u00adan\u2019s blue nose, her bared yel\u00adlow teeth, or her triv\u00adial ail\u00adments. Instead, he saw her lone\u00adli\u00adness and help\u00adless\u00adness.<\/p>\n<p>Because he was very angry and sad, he final\u00adly over\u00adcame his timid\u00adi\u00adty, so he took out his purse and walked up to the old woman.<br>\nThe clos\u00ader he got to the old woman, the heav\u00adier his legs became, as if the soles of his feet were glued to the ground.<br>\nThe old woman rec\u00adog\u00adnized the young Nasered\u00addin; the young Nasered\u00addin saw the old woman look\u00ading at him with fear, prob\u00ada\u00adbly afraid that he would throw stones at her or laugh at her with bad words like yes\u00adter\u00adday, so he hid his head in his clothes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHere, take it, old woman,\u201d he stam\u00admered, and poured the mon\u00adey from the bag into the old wom\u00adan\u2019s arms. The cop\u00adper coins touched the cat\u2019s body, and the cat sud\u00adden\u00adly purred at him.<\/p>\n<p>This made his courage dis\u00adap\u00adpear, and he ran away in fear, and only recov\u00adered when he ran to the iron mar\u00adket on the oth\u00ader side of the trad\u00ading inn.<br>\nAlthough he had brave\u00adly cleared him\u00adself of his sins, he spent the entire day alone, lost in thought. He thought of two kinds of peo\u00adple: the old woman, and the hard-heart\u00aded peo\u00adple who had avoid\u00aded help\u00ading her. He felt pity for the first and hatred for the sec\u00adond. If he remained mere\u00adly heart\u00adbro\u00adken and resent\u00adful, he would have no bright future. He need\u00aded to get down to busi\u00adness, but how should he do it?<\/p>\n<p>Upon think\u00ading this, he first thought of har\u00adness\u00ading the pow\u00ader of his intel\u00adlect. He ini\u00adtial\u00adly sep\u00ada\u00adrat\u00aded his feel\u00adings from his thoughts, as feel\u00adings had not yet dri\u00adven his thoughts. Lat\u00ader, he care\u00adful\u00adly sort\u00aded out his thoughts, rough\u00adly divid\u00ading them into major and minor mat\u00adters accord\u00ading to the order in which they occurred, and plac\u00ading them in their prop\u00ader places. He learned this method of think\u00ading from the chess play\u00aders he often saw in tea\u00adhous\u00ades, and he often prac\u00adticed on his own small chess\u00adboard. Dur\u00ading his prac\u00adtice, he would some\u00adtimes focus on the oppo\u00adnen\u00adt\u2019s moves to cap\u00adture his king or to cause him to lose his troops and gen\u00ader\u00adals. In such sit\u00adu\u00ada\u00adtions, he often need\u00aded to counter their own tac\u00adtics. This was the deci\u00adsion young Nasered\u00addin made: if the res\u00adi\u00addents of Bukhara were unwill\u00ading to give alms, then they should be forced to do good!<\/p>\n<p>He clear\u00adly under\u00adstood what he had to do first and what his future strat\u00ade\u00adgy would be: to find a game that he could play bet\u00adter than the Bukha\u00adrans. He thought that instead of deal\u00ading with thou\u00adsands of hard-heart\u00aded Bukha\u00adrans, it would be bet\u00adter to unite them into one and turn them into a Bukha\u00adran giant.<\/p>\n<p>Things became simpler\u2014even though the Bukhara giant was enor\u00admous, things were much eas\u00adi\u00ader to han\u00addle. He began to study the nature of this hard-heart\u00aded Bukhara giant. His goal was to find a shield to pre\u00advent jus\u00adtice and mer\u00adcy from enter\u00ading the minds and hearts of the Bukhara peo\u00adple men\u00adtioned above.<\/p>\n<p>The inner nature of the Bukhara giant was\u00adn\u2019t com\u00adplex, nor was it unfathomable\u2014the young man pon\u00addered it for two or three hours before he grasped the essence. He found the rot\u00adten roots of stingi\u00adness, greed, and arro\u00adgance that had fes\u00adtered there. By then, the Bukhara giant was per\u00adfect\u00adly clear to him, his revolt\u00ading fea\u00adtures exposed before the young Nasered\u00addin. The giant was as tall as a pago\u00adda, but incred\u00adi\u00adbly obese. His long dhoti, wrapped around his waist, bare\u00adly reached one end. His face was fat and red, his eyes puffy and small. His dull, dull gaze looked at the world indif\u00adfer\u00adent\u00adly, reveal\u00ading an arro\u00adgant, emp\u00adty smile in his sleep. When he opened his mouth, a bloat\u00aded, clum\u00adsy tongue would pro\u00adtrude from his lips. He was con\u00adstant\u00adly snif\u00adfling, breath\u00ading heav\u00adi\u00adly and groan\u00ading from the fat that filled his nose. In his hand was a piece of naan as big as a wheel and smeared with hon\u00adey, tak\u00ading big bites of it. Because the naan was very sweet, he shout\u00aded and hummed with pride. At the same time, he seemed to be afraid that some\u00adone would take half of it or share a bite with him, so he held the naan in his arms.<\/p>\n<p>Young Naserdin was furi\u00adous at the Bukhar\u00adi\u00adans\u2019 hard-heart\u00aded\u00adness toward the old woman, which made the Bukhar\u00adi\u00adan giant seem so abom\u00adinable in his eyes. How\u00adev\u00ader, the view that anger is a bad coun\u00adselor to jus\u00adtice is, of course, rare. For the major\u00adi\u00adty of gen\u00aduine Bukhar\u00adi\u00adans are kind and com\u00adpas\u00adsion\u00adate. They weren\u2019t unwill\u00ading to help the old woman out of self\u00adish\u00adness, but rather they failed to see past her ugly exte\u00adri\u00ador and grasp the depth of her suf\u00adfer\u00ading. If they had known, they would\u00adn\u2019t have wait\u00aded for oth\u00aders to tell them to, but would have tak\u00aden the ini\u00adtia\u00adtive to help her. They sim\u00adply did\u00adn\u2019t think deeply enough. But for young Naserdin, there was no time for deliberation\u2014he was ready to duel with the Bukhar\u00adi\u00adan giant. In oth\u00ader words, he had made every pos\u00adsi\u00adble prepa\u00adra\u00adtion and was filled with courage.<\/p>\n<p>The next morn\u00ading, young Nas\u00ader al-Din appeared at the inn again. After care\u00adful con\u00adsid\u00ader\u00ada\u00adtion, he arrived ear\u00adly. The old woman had\u00adn\u2019t arrived yet; he would have to wait for over half an hour. He searched for her, exhaust\u00ading him\u00adself by search\u00ading around the inn and the sur\u00adround\u00ading streets. The morn\u00ading sun was\u00adn\u2019t quite as blaz\u00ading; the sky was clear, and even in the shade, the damp ground still held the lin\u00adger\u00ading mois\u00adture of the night. Steam was just begin\u00adning to rise, a breath of air. But the carved dome of the tem\u00adple tow\u00ader was blind\u00ading in the sun\u00adlight. Above him, the azure sky, herald\u00ading anoth\u00ader scorch\u00ading day, seemed to drift inward, trem\u00adbling in the heat. The dull clam\u00ador of the sur\u00adround\u00ading streets grew loud\u00ader, fill\u00ading every cor\u00adner of the city. This sound adorned the mag\u00adnif\u00adi\u00adcent palaces of Allah, drown\u00ading out the angels\u2019 songs and drift\u00ading away into the depths of the heav\u00adens with the dawn dust storm. It was the cry of the Bukhara giant for naan.<\/p>\n<p>Soon the old woman arrived, and the black cat fol\u00adlowed her. The boy regret\u00adted not bring\u00ading a piece of cooked goat\u2019s liv\u00ader with him. Now this dis\u00adgust\u00ading, shed cat had become his close ally in his fight against the Bukhara giant.<\/p>\n<p>The young man Nasserdin did not delay and walked bold\u00adly towards the old woman and greet\u00aded her:<br>\n\u201cMay God grant you good health, old woman! Did you have a peace\u00adful night?\u201d<br>\n\u201cMay God grant you hap\u00adpi\u00adness too!\u201d the old woman replied, squint\u00ading her tear\u00adful eyes. \u201cLast night was quite peace\u00adful, but I don\u2019t think this day will be peace\u00adful.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Although the young Nasserdin under\u00adstood what she meant, he pre\u00adtend\u00aded not to hear.<br>\nHe bowed a sec\u00adond time and asked:<br>\n\u201cHow was your beloved cat last night?\u201d<br>\n\u201cThe cat caught the mouse, so it did\u00adn\u2019t get a good night\u2019s sleep.\u201d She answered, star\u00ading at the boy as if she could see through him.<br>\nHer gaze embar\u00adrassed the young Nass\u00ader al-Din, who kept shift\u00ading his weight from one foot to the oth\u00ader. His courage sud\u00adden\u00adly van\u00adished, and he for\u00adgot all the words he had pre\u00adpared.<\/p>\n<p>A moment of silence fell. Nass\u00ader al-Din Afan\u00adti felt not only his face but his entire body burn\u00ading hot, and he began to breathe rapid\u00adly. Final\u00adly, he man\u00adaged to whis\u00adper:<br>\n\u201cI am that child. Yes\u00adter\u00adday and the day before yes\u00adter\u00adday\u2026\u201d<br>\nThe old woman stared at him intent\u00adly with\u00adout say\u00ading any\u00adthing. Nasserdin gath\u00adered all his strength and said in a voice that he could not even hear:<br>\n\u201cI made you angry, do you remem\u00adber?\u201d<br>\nIf the old woman did\u00adn\u2019t say any\u00adthing this time, he would turn around and run away like he did yes\u00adter\u00adday.<br>\nBut the old woman answered:<br>\n\u201cDo you think I remem\u00adber it? How could I not remem\u00adber it? You kept stick\u00ading your tongue out at me. I was sur\u00adprised to see how long it was.\u201d<br>\nIf the old woman had not said these words with a face as bright as the sun and a smile on her face, he would have been ashamed of him\u00adself.<br>\n\u201cCome clos\u00ader,\u201d the old woman said. \u201cYou are a good, kind-heart\u00aded child, but I see you are also a rather naughty one. Now, don\u2019t hide any\u00adthing, tell me the truth. Why are you here? What do you need? Let me tell you this: if you brought two sil\u00adver dol\u00adlars with you as you did yes\u00adter\u00adday, you\u2019d bet\u00adter take the mon\u00adey and leave as soon as pos\u00adsi\u00adble. Help\u00ading the poor is cer\u00adtain\u00adly a noble act, but it\u2019s not good when some chil\u00addren steal mon\u00adey from their par\u00adents\u2019 pock\u00adets to do so. Oth\u00ader\u00adwise, where do you get two sil\u00adver dol\u00adlars every day?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The young Nassered\u00addin blushed with embar\u00adrass\u00adment, but he thought that since the old woman was a Gyp\u00adsy, she was talk\u00ading to him as if he were a child from her own tribe.<br>\n\u201cThat\u2019s not the case at all!\u201d said young Nas\u00ader al-Din. \u201cI did\u00adn\u2019t bring two sil\u00adver dol\u00adlars today. I nev\u00ader pick my father\u2019s pock\u00adets. He often leaves me alone in the shop sell\u00ading clay pots, and I always give all the mon\u00adey I earn to him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s good!\u201d the old woman said affir\u00adma\u00adtive\u00adly.<br>\n\u201cHe would give me half of a denar\u00adius, or even half a denar\u00adius, at fes\u00adti\u00advals.\u201d<br>\n\u201cYou may take this,\u201d said the old woman. \u201cIt is not wrong. I am glad I have wronged you. Don\u2019t be angry with me.\u201d<br>\nLat\u00ader, their con\u00adver\u00adsa\u00adtion con\u00adtin\u00adued in this way, and they both talked very hap\u00adpi\u00adly. The young man Nasserdin sat beside the old woman, stroking the cat, lis\u00adten\u00ading to its meows, and prais\u00ading it non-stop.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoes your cat like goat\u2019s liv\u00ader and milk?\u201d<br>\n\u201cI don\u2019t know, because I\u2019ve nev\u00ader fed it goat\u2019s liv\u00ader or milk.\u201d The old woman laughed. \u201cI haven\u2019t seen those things in years.\u201d<br>\nThis sad answer paved the way for the young Nassered\u00addin to move on to the main top\u00adic. He excit\u00aded\u00adly but timid\u00adly told the old woman his thoughts on \u201coppos\u00ading\u201d the Bukhara giant.<\/p>\n<p>The old woman lis\u00adtened with only mild inter\u00adest at first, but then she believed him and final\u00adly burst into tears.<br>\n\u201cGod has sent you to me because you have brought a lit\u00adtle com\u00adfort to a home\u00adless old woman like me! You are a schem\u00ading child; if you had been born into our tribe, you would have become a leader. Your heart is pur\u00ader than that of any right\u00adeous man, and may God bless you with wis\u00addom and wis\u00addom.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Accord\u00ading to young Nasserdin\u2019s idea, it would cost about fif\u00adteen sil\u00adver dol\u00adlars or a lit\u00adtle more. The old woman trust\u00aded him so much that she took the mon\u00adey out of her tat\u00adtered old clothes and hand\u00aded it to him with\u00adout hes\u00adi\u00adta\u00adtion.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis is my last bit of mon\u00adey.\u201d said the old woman, her hands shak\u00ading.<br>\n\u201cDon\u2019t wor\u00adry, old woman, the mon\u00adey will come back to you along with the prof\u00adits,\u201d said the young Nass\u00ader al-Din.<br>\n<a href=\"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/2008\/07\/24\/shu_zhai_shi_20080724-2\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">(To be con\u00adtin\u00adued)<\/a><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\uff08\u524d\u6587\u518d\u7eed\uff0c\u4e66\u63a5\u4e0a\u4e00\u56de\uff09 \u3016\u7b2c\u4e8c\u90e8\u5206 \u795e\u79d8\u7684\u5929\u79e4\u3017 \u73b0\u5728\u8fd8\u662f\u8ba9\u6211\u4eec\u8d76\u7d27\u518d\u8bf4\u8bf4\u7eb3\u8d5b\u5c14\u4e01\u963f\u51e1\u63d0\u7ae5\u5e74\u65f6\u4ee3\u7684\u6545\u4e8b\u3002<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"wp_typography_post_enhancements_disabled":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[23],"tags":[74,26,73,76,67],"class_list":["post-3640","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-timemachine","tag-74","tag-26","tag-73","tag-76","tag-67"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3640","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3640"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3640\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4149,"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3640\/revisions\/4149"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3640"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3640"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ajia.site\/blog\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3640"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}