I am not Ximen Qing.

His career plummeted, and for the first time, he felt the coldness of human nature. When the light that once shone upon him vanished, all hope turned to dust. The change wasn't just the loss of dignity; even his neighbors, who used to greet him warmly, now treated him like a plague. As the saying goes, a close neighbor is worse than a distant relative. His once-smiling, impoverished relative, Boss Guo, was young and arrogant, with the means to be generous with his "Guo Bao Rou" (sweet and sour pork), "Dongpo elbow" (braised pork knuckle), and "roast chicken"—he had one major flaw: a violent temper. When angry, he would unleash a torrent of curses. With his thick eyebrows and large eyes, his face resembled Guan Yu's, a bad temper honed from a young age amidst the clash of swords and shadows of the martial world, and it was truly difficult to change. The soldiers, however, liked his warrior nature. They treated the place like home, putting up debts when they were short of money. Sometimes they would somehow manage to get a chicken, duck, or goose, sometimes surprising him completely. They would even bring him a pig or a cow; bartering was sometimes more valuable than paper money, treating it like gold and silver.

They lived for the moment, brothers from all corners of the land, living for today, with no tomorrow in sight. The wine and meat were plentiful, the atmosphere lively and bustling, dozens of tables and chairs always busy. Everyone knew Guo Baoshan's temperament—a fierce-looking face, a heart that seemed ready to tear out its own flesh and offer it to its friends, a chivalrous and generous spirit, the very things most taboo in business. It was the only way to maintain order. This created an atmosphere of masculinity in the restaurant, keeping out the scoundrels, the scoundrels, and even bandits. Even the respected local gentry gave him face. In those days, doing business wasn't easy; some small businesses could be ruined by taxes and levies. In social interactions, food and drink were paramount. A chance to share a drink and become acquainted was far more effective than immediate favors. Guo Baoshan was now lying on the cold heated brick bed, covered by a large quilt given to him by a soldier.

After much deliberation, he gave the last few silver dollars to his longtime associate.

"Mr. Guo, I'll be there whenever you call when business reopens."

The guys still had a bond; poverty makes one lose heart, and their wives and children needed to eat. They all cried their eyes out, a testament to their years of friendship.

"Go home, everyone! Find another way out! Thank you!" These were Guo Baoshan's last words. He was extremely weak, constantly dreaming; he loved liveliness so much. His life had always been intertwined with knives and pots; all the joy of his youth was found in the pots and pans. There are gatherings and separations; the world, after a long period of division, will unite, and after a long period of unity, will divide again—it's only a matter of time. Outside, the heavy snow fell for a full day and night, the snow on the roads a full meter deep. Children were building snowmen, rolling snowballs, throwing snowballs at each other, having snowball fights, their joyful shouts and carefree laughter echoing through the sky.

The room was deathly silent. The New Year had passed in such a state. "Father, Mother, I'm going to find you." Tears wouldn't fall; having been detached from worldly affairs for so long, there was no moisture left to form tears. When disaster strikes, everyone flees for their lives. What does this matter now? All the noise and chaos are just illusions, a dazzling display of beauty. The tune of "Peach Blossom Fan," a song from a brothel, echoed in her ears. Young, full of energy, needing to vent. She hadn't found a woman she liked, had drunk with a Kuomintang soldier, had a few affairs, and wouldn't marry or have children until her career was successful. This pent-up energy had become her most beautiful dream. Why did each of the twelve beauties in *Dream of the Red Chamber*, as beautiful as a fairy, have a song? Each song represents a way of loving; actors and performers understand the subtleties best. Baoshan didn't understand; it was like a dream, very vague. As she was about to leave this bitterly cold world, she had a spring dream of love she had never experienced before. Fortunately, he wasn't completely free of attachments; life still yearned for a fleeting, illusory love. At this moment, unlike his usual raging, screaming cries, there was a poignant, almost romantic beauty to his tragic state. Baoshan tried to get up but was utterly powerless. This seven-foot-tall man was about to perish on the cold earthen bed; he wanted to shout, to scream, but had no strength left. Baoshan didn't believe in gods or ghosts, but now he felt a sense of despair and fear. Death was approaching, and his soul was about to leave his body.

"Drink some porridge, just a little bit, I'll feed you, my precious Baoshan."

He didn't know if he was in the human world or in heaven. The woman's gentle voice, like sunlight appearing in the darkness, made Baoshan afraid to open his eyes, fearing he was already dead, unable to believe it was reality. A few hours later, he regained some strength. The room was warm, the crackling of burning wood filling his body with warmth. Steam rose from the boiling water in the large iron pot. On the other side of the heated kang (a traditional Chinese bed), a newborn baby, with rosy cheeks, slept peacefully. Pearl was washing and cleaning Baoshan's dirty clothes, now knitting something with a sewing needle. Baoshan remembered—the woman was the widow who occasionally helped him, Pearl. In the chaos of war, Pearl's husband had been killed by a stray bullet. Her husband, Jin Hai, was Pearl's everything; mother and child were driven out of the compound. Such things often happened in wealthy families; those who didn't bear sons had no rights. Pearl was plump and had a dignified face. Her long hair was styled in a bun, and she had single-lidded, delicate eyebrows with bright, sparkling eyes. Her lips were thin and rosy, and she had a set of pearly white teeth. Her face was covered with freckles, and her skin was smooth and fair. After giving birth, she had become even more beautiful and charming, unlike many women who became like old wives within a year or two of marriage. The woman before him had never done any strenuous work, truly embodying the saying, "A lady's body, a maid's fate." Without her husband Jin Hai's protection, her future seemed bleak. Baoshan suddenly remembered. How could he have forgotten Pearl? Occasionally, she would help wipe the table, sweep the floor, and serve dishes—that was all. Baoshan wouldn't allow her to do anything more. He himself didn't know why, but upon seeing Pearl, his mind went blank, and he even felt a sense of awe. Pearl possessed the air of a refined lady, unlike Baoshan, a rough man. Although everyone called him Boss Guo, especially when women were around, he was afraid they wouldn't call him Boss Guo. If they did, he'd order extra food, fill his cups with wine, and even throw in a pot of it. He felt this made him look good in front of Pearl, and he didn't care about anything else. He knew Pearl needed to take care of her child and was a woman who had lost her husband, so he made sure she brought back some chicken, duck, and fish each time. Baoshan never said anything himself, but the waiters were observant.

"Sister-in-law, don't forget to take this with you."

"And sister-in-law, take this with you."

What could Pearl say? Her face flushed like a summer rose. A widow and her child, there was nothing she could do. But she remained composed and independent, and over time, everyone knew she was the woman cared for by Guo Baoshan, the boss. In those days, it wasn't easy for a widow with a child. Everyone gave Baoshan face; he was always generous, and everyone had enjoyed his delicious meals. Pearl also realized the benefits of having a powerful patron. Baoshan was an unmarried young man, and Pearl knew her place, so she just took it one day at a time.

Little did Baoshan know that during those arduous days of life, Zhenzhu had to walk countless times outside her door, carrying the child. Zhenzhu only considered Baoshan a younger brother and family member. Her woman's intuition told her that Guo Baoshan's life was in danger, and finally, she swallowed her pride and barged in—in those days, countless people starved to death. Zhenzhu knew what to do, and the child seemed to know that his mother was saving Baoshan's life. Jinyu, who usually cried easily, for some reason chose to sleep soundly, not wanting to disturb her mother's efforts to save a good man's life.

"You didn't leave? I forgot that my wages haven't been settled yet."

"do not mean that."