When she really concentrated on embroidery, she could do it blindfolded. For the time being, she was nearly deaf, profoundly indiff erent and unconcerned about her surroundings. Nothing mattered but embroidery. And Mei was quite a pursuer of perfection for the needlework. On the whole, she worked as a shuttle, and was unable to detach herself entirely from the world of regular repeats of needle and thread. As time passed, there was no difference between day and night.
By late afternoon, she thought she had fi nished all. But when the boys were getting ready and pushing her to get ready, she suddenly discovered there was another pile hidden under her chair. This enormously angered Mei. It must be her elder son’s trick. How she wanted to beat him! Yet, time was not allowed. She knew exactly how long it would take her to fi nish a pile. The last pile! Every second counted. She started repeating the entire process right away. Only faster! The boys were, again, disappointed. Particularly the elder boy. However, seeing his mother returning to work instead of punishing him, he sucked the failure like he sucked a lollipop.