I am not Ximen Qing.

Guo Baoshan was so captivated by the snowy spring scenery of Pearl Country that he almost forgot about his hometown in Shanxi. Women's nature subtly influences men's souls, creating a dependence. From one forest farm to another, wherever he went, he remained a canteen manager for the working class, retaining his former bold and rugged character. If he were to immerse himself in literature, poetry, and classical texts, he would become a Su Dongpo of another era. Whenever he felt downcast, he immediately thought of the Manchu Han Imperial Feast—his personal Diamond Sutra. He contemplated the world from a different perspective, the world's form and emptiness, the pure essence of his thoughts, pursuing the pure realm of a scribe. He had been immersed in Confucian classics, but this pure essence and the 84,000 Dharma gates are interconnected, essentially interconnected…

He was obsessed with refining the purest lard, believing that only the purest lard could produce the purest version of the imperial Manchu-Han Imperial Feast from the Qing Dynasty. He didn't even mention that Pearl had tasted such a feast—of course, she couldn't have eaten it in the Ning Shou Palace within the Forbidden City, as Guo Baoshan mocked her for—that wasn't a pure Manchu-Han Imperial Feast. He told Pearl she'd be surprised in the future. No matter which forest farm he went to, the canteen couldn't be without his pure lard. Perhaps it was a bit narcissistic, but his level of expertise had reached the pinnacle of art. Everyone in the forest farm knew his prowess; not having tasted the canteen manager's lard-mixed rice was considered an incomplete life. The workers were all armed with Marxist-Leninist and Mao Zedong Thought, possessing a pure materialist worldview. Indeed, regardless of the mystical legends and supernatural tales of Chinese culture, the workers were all enlightened enough to understand Copernicus's heliocentric theory. Whether they had studied physics or not, they knew Galileo was right and to believe in science.

Where does fulfillment lie? In the Yonghe Temple in Beijing, the Manchu people's love for lard is evident in every aspect of their lives, from the Forbidden City down to the daily lives of princes and nobles—everything they eat and drink. Without lard from Changbai Mountain, the imperial chefs in the palace would be like Li Bai's poem "Bring in the Wine," not "Bring in the Wine," but rather, "The road to Shu is harder than ascending to heaven." That's the status of lard. Without lard, there's no pure Changbai Mountain flavor. Workers felt their lives were fulfilled after eating rice mixed with lard. They didn't understand the so-called "great fulfillment," but they grasped the essence of lard rice made with plain water and rice. Therefore, the most expensive item in the canteen wasn't lean meat, but the fat and lard from the black pigs. Perhaps the last vestige of magical realism in China resides in the canteen of the forest farm. People now believe in science, not mythology. The place where magical realism is most prevalent is actually Confucius's final work, the *Spring and Autumn Annals* (Zuo Zhuan). If anyone dares to belittle *Notes from the Thatched Cottage*, *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio*, or *What the Master Did Not Say*, then they are opposing Confucius's *Spring and Autumn Annals*, *Zuo Zhuan*, and the *I Ching*, and even the Thirteen Classics. In fact, there was far too much magical realism back then. Many hermits and recluses within the bureau possessed the capacity for magical realism, choosing instead to remain low-key and hidden, no longer seeking the limelight. Family secret recipes and traditional Chinese medicine formulas were merely manifestations of this magical realism. Therefore, the walls of Beijing had to be demolished. Magical realism has been ingrained for too long; a complete overhaul requires science, only science. Therefore, the Epang Palace had to be burned down, and the Weiyang Palace had to be destroyed. As for Pearl's snow-white skin and flesh, having given birth to so many children, how could she not age in Guo Baoshan's eyes? All of this is thanks to the magical realism of lard; not only the pearl-like children, but even Jinshui and Jingou appear refined and cultured. In Guo Baoshan's eyes, his two sons are hopeless; they've all taken after their mother. Believe it or not, the two fair-skinned, refined sons have grown into handsome, scholarly figures, and the daughters are as white as spring snow! This is the magical creation of lard. Guo Baoshan's pure pursuit of lard is somewhat akin to the alchemists and sorcerers of the past who sought immortality. Crucially, their elixirs did indeed kill Jiajing and Yongzheng in *Dream of the Red Chamber*. Both the Ming and Qing emperors are connected to these two books: *Jin Ping Mei* depicts the Ming Dynasty, and *Dream of the Red Chamber* depicts the Qing Dynasty. The literary inquisitions of the Ming Dynasty were less severe, so *Jin Ping Mei* is more down-to-earth and closer to the realities of society. The literary inquisitions of the Qing Dynasty were a pure cultural severance, an era of book burning and burying of scholars alive. The novel "Dream of the Red Chamber" is written with a somewhat otherworldly air, like a love ghost in the underworld.

Jin Yu blossomed into a beauty as vibrant as an azalea blooming in a snowy wonderland. Of the five sisters, only Jin Yu had thin, single eyelids; the rest of the siblings all had double eyelids, a trait inherited from Guo Baoshan. Jin Yu always remained detached from the close-knit emotional world of her younger siblings. She was accustomed to this solitude; even her fifth sister preferred to cling to her second, third, and fourth sisters. This was all due to Jin Yu's haughty and authoritative air—the kind that even her father feared. In any case, her beauty was a product of pure, whimsical realism.

"Tana, why isn't our daughter smiling?"

"Baoshan, you don't understand, it's all youth. Why is Jinyu so temperamental and has such a bad temper?"

"Yes, who does she take after? I've never dared to upset Jinyu since I was little. I used to call him 'Daddy, Daddy' all the time, but it's been almost a year now, and she doesn't call him 'Daddy' anymore."

"I haven't called her 'Mom' for a whole year."

"What should we do, Tana?"

"Aren't there any suitable young men in your forest farm?"

"Jin Yu is our precious treasure; we should find a cultured person in the bureau."

“Baoshan’s daughter has that strange temper, just like her maternal grandfather.”

"You take after your father's temper. Your father was a high-ranking official in the Eight Banners."

"Baoshan does not allow nonsense."

Jinque felt resentful. Her older sister, Jinyu, could attend the best school in the city, the Linhai School. Jinque and her younger siblings could only attend the middle school in the forest farm. However, she had three more years of schooling than her sister, Jinyu, and Guo Baoshan doted on Jinque as his only daughter. Zhenzhu knew Jinque was cunning, so she secretly told her that she would take over her father's position, but Jinque had one condition: she must not anger her older sister, Jinyu. Actually, the younger sisters and brothers all listened to their second sister. Their mother worried that Jinyu might have promised the second son favors, preventing the sisters from fighting and arguing. Everyone knew that Kangxi was being tormented by his sons' struggle for the throne. Zhenzhu had long seen through this, so she decided to target the leader first; once the second son was dealt with, the other children would be easier to manage. The well-fed children were all plump and fair-skinned, each with a pair of small braids, still unmarried. Guo Jinyu, Guo Jinque, Guo Jinlan, Guo Jinxia—the youngest daughter was given the cultured name Guo Jinchai. Everyone in the Dahe Forest Farm knew that the canteen manager's daughters were all as white as lard; to be in love with such girls must be as sweet and fulfilling as eating rice mixed with lard!