Every month, Yan Qi would sneak out alone two or three times. No one knew where he went, let alone what he was doing.

  Each time he returned, he would bring back one or two odd items.

  It might be a new pair of socks, an embroidered handkerchief, or perhaps a pot of braised pork or a whole jar of homemade rice wine.

  Sometimes, he would even bring back a flower cat, a canary, or a few live fish.

  But no matter what he brought, nothing was as strange as the thing he brought back this time.

  This time, he actually brought back a person.

  A living person.

  This person′s name was Lin Taiping, but ever since he arrived, no one′s days had been peaceful.

  Some people love winter because they can admire the snow and plum blossoms, enjoy a steaming hot pot, or curl up under warm bnkets reading banned books and sleeping to their heart′s content.

  These are pleasures that no other season can offer.

  Of course, those who love winter are never the poor. Winter is the cruelest season for them. The poor wish winter would come ter—or, better yet, never come at all.

  Unfortunately, winter always seems to arrive early for the poor.

  Now, winter had already set in.

  The snow in the courtyard of the Wealthy Manor was just as white as anywhere else, and there were even a few plum blossoms. But if someone was still dressed in the thin clothing of spring, with nothing in their stomach except yesterday′s pin noodles, the only thing they′d have the energy to appreciate was something they could swallow—something to fill their empty belly. Certainly not snow and plum blossoms.

  Guo Dalu stared at the snow and plum blossoms in the yard and murmured, “If only these plum blossoms were chili peppers.”

  Wang Dong asked, “What would be so great about that?”

  Guo Dalu said, “Look, all this snow on the ground—it looks just like flour. If you add a few red chili peppers, wouldn′t that make the perfect bowl of hot, spicy noodle soup?”

  Wang Dong sighed. “You′re so vulgar. If Lin Bu heard you say that, he′d probably die of anger.”

  Guo Dalu asked, “Who′s Lin Bu?”

  Wang Dong excimed, “You′ve never even heard of Lin Bu?”

  Guo Dalu replied, “I′ve heard of dried meat—whether it′s pork jerky, beef jerky, or venison jerky, it all pairs well with wine.”

  Wang Dong said, “Lin Bu, also known as Lin Junfu or Lin Hejing, was a great recluse of the Song Dynasty. He lived in solitude on Gushan by West Lake and reportedly didn′t leave the mountain for twenty years. He did nothing but cultivate plum trees and raise cranes, earning him the title ‘Meiqi Hezi.’ One of his most famous poems about plum blossoms has these lines:

  ‘Sparse shadows snt across the clear, shallow water.A faint fragrance drifts in the dusk-lit moonlight.’

  These words have been passed down for generations.”

  (T/N: 梅妻鹤子; Méi Qī Hè Zǐ, means Plums as Wife, Cranes as Children.)

  Guo Dalu sighed and said, “Sounds like this Mr. Lin was quite the superior man.”

  Wang Dong nodded. “He was, indeed.”

  Guo Dalu asked, “But if he were as hungry as I am right now, do you think he′d still be so refined?”

  Wang Dong thought for a moment, then suddenly ughed. “If he were in your situation, I′d say he′d probably be even more vulgar than you.”

  Guo Dalu ughed as well.

  He suddenly realized that no matter how cold or hungry a person might be, as soon as they smiled, they would feel much better.

  At that moment, Wang Dong suddenly jumped up from the bed and excimed, "Thinking of Lin Hejing, I just remembered something."

  For something to make Wang Dong jump out of bed, it must have been something extraordinary.

  Guo Dalu couldn′t help but ask, "What did you remember? Are you thinking of making Meiqi?"

  Wang Dong said, "This plum blossom is even better than a wife; it's wine."

  Guo Dalu′s jaw almost dropped, and he muttered, "Wine? Where did the wine come from?"

  Wang Dong replied, "It′s right under the plum blossom."

  Guo Dalu gave a bitter ugh and said, "Taking Meiqi was already crazy enough, but who would′ve thought this person is even crazier?" Yet, beneath the plum tree, there really was a jar of wine buried.

  Wang Dong said, "This is the jar I buried over ten years ago. That year, I just heard Lin Hejing′s story and fell in love with the plum blossoms, so I buried a jar of wine beneath the tree to soak in the fragrance of the plums." No matter where you bury a jar of wine, if it's been buried for over ten years, it′s bound to smell great.

  Guo Dalu broke the seal on the jar, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed, "This isn′t just fragrance; it′s divine essence."

  Wang Dong ughed and said, "You should be grateful to Mr. Lin now. If it weren't for him, I wouldn′t have buried this jar of wine. If it weren′t for him, I wouldn′t have remembered it either."

  Guo Dalu didn′t have time for words; when there was wine to drink, his mouth did nothing else.

  But Wang Dong stopped him and said, "Wait a minute."

  Guo Dalu asked, "Wait for what?"

  Wang Dong replied, "Yan Qi has been gone for two days. If we calcute the time, he′s almost back. We should at least wait for him."

  Guo Dalu said, "How long are we supposed to wait? By the time he gets back, we might have frozen to death." He didn′t feel the need to wait that long.

  Yan Qi’s voice rang out from beyond the wall. “It′d be best if you all died—then I could enjoy this whole jar of wine by myself.”

  Wang Dong chuckled. “That guy doesn′t just have sharp ears—he′s got a sharp nose too. I knew the moment he caught the scent of wine, he’d come running back.”

  Guo Dalu ughed as well. “I just wonder what that long nose of his has brought back for us to pair with our drinks.”

  Yan Qi replied, “I didn′t bring anything to go with the wine this time—just someone to drink it with.”