I loved to go up to the whorehouse to listen to those loose women moaning and groaning all night long. Listening to those sounds was just like scratching a good itch. Once the day comes that a man starts to go whoring, gambling can't be too far behind. Whoring and gambling are just like a pair of arms or legs: inseparable. Later I began to like gambling even more – whoring was just to loosen up a bit. Whoring is like drinking or lot of water and needing to relieve oneself, or, said bluntly, it's like taking a piss. But gambling is completely different. Gambling made me both happy and tense. And it was especially that sense of tension that brought me an almost indescribable feeling of comfort. I was like a monk caught up in his daily routine of ringing the bell completely listless. Every morning I'd wake up with my only worry being how I should spend the day. My father would sigh in despair, reprimanding me for failing to bring honor to our ancestors. I would think that bringing honor to our ancestors wasn't my job alone. I would say to myself, why should I give up my days of fun to worry about boring stuff like honoring the ancestors? Moreover, when my dad was young he'd been just like me. Our family used to have over two hundred mu of land, but once my father got his hands on it he managed to lose over half. I said to my father, "Don't worry, my son will honor the ancestors."