Chapter 8 "Yao Neiqi" five

Fives A few more years passed.Startsev was even fatter, fat and out of breath, and always walked with his head up.Whenever he sat on the three-set carriage with a big belly and a red face, and the same potbellied and red face Pantelaimon sat on the coachman's seat, sticking out the back of his fat head and sticking out his stick. With a stiff arm, he yelled at the oncoming passers-by: "Keep right, go right!" This scene is really majestic: it seems that the car is not a human being, but a pagan god.His business in the city was so heavy that he didn't even have time to catch his breath.He already owns an estate, two town houses, and is currently looking for a third, more lucrative property.Whenever he heard of a house for sale somewhere at the credit union, he would break in unceremoniously, walking through the rooms, not paying attention to the horrified eyes of half-dressed women and children looking at him with The cane poked at all the doors and asked:

"Is this a study? Is this a bedroom? What is this?" As he spoke, he wiped the sweat from his brow out of breath. He has many things to worry about, but he still does not give up his post as local physician.He is insatiable and always wants to do both.On Jiali Day, in the city, everyone just called him "Yao Neiqi". "Where is this Yao Neiqi going?" or "Do you want to invite Yao Neiqi for consultation?" ① Calling the father directly means that you are welcome. Probably because of excess fat in his throat, his voice became high-pitched and thin.His personality also changed, becoming difficult and prone to anger.When he saw patients, he would lose his temper, banging his cane on the floor impatiently, and shouting in his ugly voice.

"Please only answer my questions! Don't talk nonsense!" He was alone, living a lonely and boring life, and nothing interested him. His love for Kodyk had been his only, and perhaps his last, joy during all the years he had lived in Jalizhi.Every night he played "Vent" in the club and then sat alone at a big table for dinner.One of the oldest and most stable waiters, Ivan, waited on him and brought him No. 16 Lafayette red wine.Everyone in the club, from the director to the cook and waiters, knew what he liked and disliked, and did their best to please him, lest he suddenly lose his temper and knock his cane on the floor.

At supper he sometimes turned around and added something to the conversation: "What are you talking about? Ah, who are you talking about?" Sometimes, when someone at the next table talked about the Turkins, he would ask: "Which Turkins are you talking about? The one whose daughter can play the piano?" That's about all that can be said about him. So what about the Turkins?Ivan Petrovitch had not aged, had not changed at all, and was still fond of wit and anecdotes.Vera Iosefovna read her novels cheerfully, sincerely, and freely as usual.Kotik continued to play the piano every day, for three or four hours at a time.She was visibly old and often ill, and every autumn she went to the Crimea with her mother to recuperate.At that moment Ivan Petrovitch saw them off at the station, and as the train started he cried out, wiping away his tears:

"Goodbye, please!" And waving a handkerchief. September 1898