"Passion," Grandma said, "bring me my willow stitch."


 Passion fetched Grandma's white willow switch. "This'll sober you up," Grandma said as she twirled

 the switch in the air and brought it down hard on Yu Zhan'ao's buttocks.


 Stung by the pain, he experienced a sense of numbing ecstasy, and when it reached his throat it

 set his teeth moving and emerged as a stream of gibberish: "Mistress Mistress Mistress . . ."


 Grandma whipped him until her arm was about to fall off, then lowered the switch and stood there

 panting from exhaustion.


 "Take him away," she said.


 Uncle Arhat steeped up to pull Yu Zhan'ao to his feet, but he refused to get up. "Mistress,"

 he shouted, "a few more lashes . . . just give me afew more. . . ."


 This guy must be crazy, I thought. But it's getting interesting here and besides, there is still 

 some distance away from home. I carried on with the indulgence.