I asked Zhou Xiao, "Is selling ointment profitable?"

Zhou Xiao said, "Of course, the majority of the money in our village is earned from selling ointment."

I asked him again, "Are there many people buying ointment?"

Through the narrow iron bars, I saw Zhou Xiao's scrutinizing gaze. "What do you want to ask?"

I lifted my head and met his gaze. "Does ointment bring pain to men?"

Zhou Xiao paused.

The only sounds audible around were the whistling wind and the distant crowing of a rooster.

Zhou Xiao said, "Yes, men who can't obtain the ointment they desire are in pain, and those who do obtain it are even more miserable, because they watch their exorbitantly priced ointment diminish bit by bit every day, but they are powerless to do anything about it."