Chapter 133: Brewing Wine

On the third day, villagers from the neighboring village came again to invite Zhang Enpu to go over, saying they needed a floating lantern ceremony. Liu Dashao found this intriguing and asked Zhang Enpu what a floating lantern was. Zhang Enpu smiled and said, “You’ll know when we get there.” The event was still held by the pond in front of Yusu’s house. The fish that had floated to the surface the day before had all been scooped up by Yusu’s uncle and sold cheaply at the market. The diesel oil that had floated on the water had also been drained away. The villagers had already gathered by the pond, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Master Zhang and his apprentice.

Zhang Enpu nodded at the villagers upon reaching the pond, indicating that the ceremony could now begin. He lit an incense stick and inserted it into the earth by the pond’s edge. Then he took some paper money, lit it, and threw it into the air while chanting something under his breath. Liu Dashao couldn’t quite catch the words. Zhang Enpu repeated the same actions on the other side of the pond. Once all the preparations were complete, he descended the steps to the pond, arriving at the spot where Yusu and the others had bathed two days earlier. Yusu’s parents laid a sheet of rice paper on the water’s surface and placed five white lanterns on it. Then Zhang Enpu threw a handful of burning paper money into the pond, saying aloud, “Poor little soul, pass on quickly, be reborn, go now, go peacefully, don’t search for a replacement anymore, do a favor for your parents and accumulate some virtue.”

The burning paper money extinguished the moment it touched the water. Then Zhang Enpu called out to Yusu’s parents, “Release it!”

Only then did Yusu’s parents slowly push the paper holding the five lanterns toward the center of the pond.

The act they had just performed was called “floating lanterns.” The lanterns consisted of two parts: the cover and the wick. The cover was made of white paper, while the wick was made by coating a cotton thread soaked in kerosene with cooked sticky rice. These lanterns were not much different from ordinary river lanterns, yet there were some distinctions.

The rice paper used to carry the lanterns was handmade paper, quite different from regular paper. It was much sturdier and difficult to tear—so much so that it is rarely seen nowadays and nearly impossible to purchase, except during ancestral record-keeping or floating lantern ceremonies. Every few decades, when it was time to update the family genealogy, this handmade paper would be produced again, although the craft of making it has mostly disappeared. Why were there five lanterns on the paper? Because Yusu had been only five years old when he died. If someone had died at seventy or eighty, seventy or eighty lanterns would have been prepared, and accordingly, the paper would have been larger. When the lanterns were pushed to the center of the pond, the paper gradually soaked up water and began to sink, while the lanterns continued to float and burn on the surface. Everyone on the shore watched silently, mourning Yusu in their hearts until the lanterns, too, slowly sank and extinguished, disappearing from the water.

After the lanterns were floated, under Zhang Enpu’s guidance, Yusu’s father threw a duck into the pond, its foot tied to a weight. In Northeast China, there’s a saying: a person who cannot swim is like a weight—thrown into water, they sink. Ducks, however, are excellent swimmers. The duck thrown into the pond quickly sank, and soon bubbles began to rise from the depths—signs of the duck’s breath. The bubbles floated about as the duck struggled desperately underwater. Ducks are naturally skilled swimmers, yet this time, no matter how hard it struggled, it could not escape drowning. The duck was offered to appease the water ghost and to ease Yusu’s resentment, helping him find peace so he could have a companion in the afterlife and protect the pond from future tragedies.

Strange occurrences happen every year, but that year had more than usual.

There were so many strange events that year. First came the “Wine Immortal’s Passage” at Baitouzi’s house, followed by Xiaomazi being frightened to the point of losing his soul.

China has a long history of winemaking. According to *Shuowen Jiezi*, “In ancient times, Yi Di brewed wine. Yu tasted it and found it delicious, so he distanced himself from Yi Di. Du Kang later brewed sorghum wine.” Since the time of Yu, wine has existed in China for five or six thousand years, developing alongside Chinese civilization. Ancient Chinese texts contain many records of wine, from *The Book of Songs* to *Dream of the Red Chamber*, and throughout more than three thousand years of literature and historical writings, wine is almost always present. Legends say that the downfall of the last kings of the Xia and Shang dynasties was due to excessive drinking. The oldest known wine in China was unearthed from Shang dynasty tombs. Archaeologists in Luoshan’s Mangzhang Township, Xinyang region, discovered ancient wine sealed in a bronze vessel from a Shang dynasty tomb. Despite over three thousand years of hydrolysis, alcohol breakdown, and ammonia reactions, the wine’s rich aroma remained miraculously preserved—a true wonder.

Wine is often called a poison that burns the intestines. Yet despite this, many people still love to drink. Perhaps living in drunken dreams is not such a bad thing. Whether at weddings or funerals, wine is always an essential part of the banquet table.

In the village, Baitouzi loved drinking. He claimed that as a child, he often stole wine from home and was usually punished for it. Of course, his wife was also skilled in brewing. Liu Laoshi once said that her wine tasted excellent, and many villagers exchanged rice for it at her house.

Authentic mountain wine—real rice wine. But the strange event occurred just before winter that year.

That morning after breakfast, Liu Laoshi told Liu Dashao, “Dashao, later ask your mother to measure out a sheng of rice and go to Baisaozi’s house to fetch some wine.” Liu Dashao readily agreed, knowing he could then go play with Goudan afterward.

When Liu Dashao arrived at Baitouzi’s house, he found Baisaozi already busy at the stove behind the house. She had started brewing at dawn. Seeing Liu Dashao holding a wine jug, she smiled and said, “Dashao, go play first, but don’t wander too far. The wine won’t be ready until noon. I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Hearing that the wine wouldn’t be ready until noon, Liu Dashao was even happier, giving him the whole morning to play. Around noon, when he felt hungry, he and Xiaomazi went to the stove behind the house to check on the brewing. At the stove, they saw Baisaozi occasionally dipping a ladle into the spout to taste the wine, shaking her head, and pouring it away. Knowing the wine wasn’t ready yet, they went back inside to play.

Not even ten minutes later, Liu Dashao heard Baisaozi calling his name from behind. He and Xiaomazi rushed back to the stove. Liu Dashao happily handed over his jug. Baisaozi laughed and said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve made such fragrant wine.” Once the jug was full, Liu Dashao took it home for lunch.

Two or three hours later, Baitouzi ran breathlessly to Liu Dashao’s house and said to Liu Laoshi, “Brother, come quickly! Something strange has happened!”

Liu Laoshi, chatting with Zhang Enpu, asked, “Bai Elder Brother, what strange thing happened?”

Baitouzi gasped, “The wine… the wine…”

Liu Laoshi continued, “What about the wine? I was just saying that today’s wine smells especially good.”

Zhang Enpu nodded in agreement.

Baitouzi said, “Brother, quickly bring out all your wine jars and lend them to me to store the wine—quickly!”

Without hesitation, Liu Laoshi led Baitouzi to his house to find jars. Soon they found two jars, which Wang Chunhua had washed days earlier, planning to use them for pickling vegetables in ten days. Liu Laoshi asked, “Old brother, is this enough?”

Baitouzi replied, “I don’t know if it’s enough.”

Liu Dashao and Zhang Enpu, standing nearby, were stunned and exclaimed together, “What? Not enough yet?”

“Baisaozi has never borrowed jars before when brewing wine. What’s going on today?”

Baitouzi said to Liu Laoshi, “Brother, I don’t know what’s happening today. The wine just keeps flowing without stopping! I’ve filled all my jars, and it’s still not enough. It’s so strange!”

Liu Laoshi’s whole family rushed to the stove behind the house. Upon seeing Zhang Enpu, Baisaozi said, “Master Zhang, today is truly strange! The wine just keeps dripping nonstop! I’ve filled all my jars, and it’s still not enough. Isn’t that strange!”

Zhang Enpu looked at the several already filled jars by the stove and said, “It really is strange. I’ve been here for a while, and I know that normally you only fill two or three jars.”

Baisaozi nodded repeatedly, “Yes.” Liu Laoshi thought for a moment and asked, “Sister-in-law, did you add too much rice or too much yeast?”

Baisaozi shook her head, “No, I used exactly the same amount of rice and yeast as usual. It’s really strange.” Then she said to Baitouzi, “Husband, quickly change the jars.”

Seeing this, Liu Laoshi stepped in to help, moving the filled jars and replacing them with the ones from his own home.

Liu Dashao asked Zhang Enpu, “Master, what’s going on?”

Zhang Enpu thought for a moment, his face lighting up with joy, and said to everyone, “No wonder! It’s exactly as I thought!”

The adults asked him, “No wonder what?”

Zhang Enpu said excitedly, “This is the Wine Immortal’s Passage!”

“The Wine Immortal’s Passage?” The group was startled.

Liu Dashao said to Zhang Enpu, “Master, could it really be that coincidental?”

Zhang Enpu nodded firmly, “It must be the Wine Immortal’s Passage! I’ve heard of such things before. The situation is exactly like this. Mr. Bai, I never expected the Wine Immortal would visit your home!”

Baitouzi and Baisaozi were completely confused.

Xiaomazi asked Liu Dashao, “Dashao, what is the Wine Immortal’s Passage?”

Liu Dashao explained, “The Wine Immortal’s Passage means the Wine Immortal has descended to visit a human household. It’s very rare—purely a matter of fate. The Wine Immortal is the deity who controls all wine in the world. When the Immortal visits a family and the family happens to be brewing wine, the Immortal casts a spell on the wine pot, causing it to continuously produce wine until there are no more jars to hold it. As long as water is poured into the pot above, wine will flow out from the spout below, even more fragrant than any previously brewed. Wine flows endlessly like a mountain spring. But the most important rule is not to waste any wine—even if you have no jars at home, you can borrow from neighbors. Therefore, someone must stay by the pot during the Wine Immortal’s Passage. If wine is wasted, the Immortal will be displeased and stop the flow.”

Liu Laoshi listened with great interest and finally understood why this batch of wine smelled better than usual. He asked Zhang Enpu, “Brother Zhang, what if there are no more jars left? Will the wine spill onto the ground?”

Baisaozi nodded in agreement, “Yes.”

Zhang Enpu laughed heartily and said, “I’ll explain later, okay?”

Everyone nodded eagerly.

Zhang Enpu said to Liu Laoshi, “Brother Liu, quickly go home and bring all your wine jars.”

Liu Laoshi and Baitouzi went home to fetch jars. Xiaomazi danced excitedly around the stove, chanting, “Oh, so much wine! So much wine!” Several hours later, all the jars were filled. After filling the last jar, Zhang Enpu said to Liu Dashao, “Dashao, you say it now.”

Liu Dashao nodded and smiled at the wine pot, saying, “Enough, enough! No more! We have no more jars to hold the wine!”

Everyone watched in amazement as the bamboo tube stopped dripping.

Baitouzi counted the jars and laughed, “Eight jars in total! We won’t need to brew for half a year!”

Baisaozi asked Liu Dashao, “Dashao, why did the wine stop flowing as soon as you said no more?”

Liu Dashao smiled and replied, “Because we had no more jars to hold the wine. When you run out of jars, you say no more, and the Wine Immortal, hearing this, naturally stops the flow.”

Baisaozi finally understood why Zhang Enpu hadn’t told her how to stop it earlier—it would have made the Immortal think they no longer wanted wine. Still puzzled, she said to Liu Dashao, “But we could have borrowed jars from neighbors!”

Everyone present laughed. Zhang Enpu stroked his beard and explained, “The Wine Immortal’s Passage is a secret. The fewer people who know, the better. If you borrow jars from others and accidentally let it slip, the Immortal would be displeased and stop the flow.”

“But everyone in our family already knows!”

“Neighbors can benefit from the good fortune,” Zhang Enpu explained.

Everyone nodded, though still a bit confused.

Baitouzi said to Liu Laoshi, “Little brother, you can take three jars of wine. I live alone, and even I can’t finish all this in half a year.”

Liu Laoshi replied, “Brother Bai, two jars are enough for me. I only drink at night. You drink three times a day. You should keep six jars for yourself.”

In the end, the two jars at Liu’s house lasted Liu Laoshi and Zhang Enpu several months, while the six jars at Baitouzi’s lasted over half a year. After that, the Wine Immortal never visited their house again.

In the Northeast, rice is grown in two seasons. Early rice begins to be transplanted about ten days after the Lunar New Year. Late rice is planted after mid-July. When early rice is transplanted, the hills echo with the calls of the cuckoo birds. Farmers in the fields chant, “Huoxiang Babo, Bayi Naiwai.” These eight syllables sound exactly like the cuckoo’s call. Late rice is transplanted after mid-July, just after the early rice harvest, making it a very busy time. This period is known as the “Double Harvest Rush.”

When I was young, elders often said, “Each grain of food is earned with a drop of sweat. You must cherish food.” They also told me about the hardships of the 1960s, when people even ate tree bark. Now, people have food but still complain about it. They truly don’t understand the suffering of those who lived through those times!

After hearing this, Liu Dashao stubbornly asked Liu Laoshi, “Father, we harvest so much grain every year. Did you and Mother really sweat that much? If you even ate tree bark back then, was tree bark really edible for humans?”

Liu Laoshi could only smile bitterly at Liu Dashao’s words.

Rice straw has many uses. Large bundles can be used to grow mushrooms, while smaller ones can be placed in pigsties and cowsheds to keep the animals warm in winter. Every household gathers rice straw from the fields into piles for future use. New straw is only available after the late rice harvest the following year. Early rice straw is usually returned to the fields as fertilizer, much like fallen leaves returning to their roots.

The Lius also had a pile. The trouble began with that pile of rice straw.

That morning, Xiaomazi and Goudan were playing “house” behind the house in a small hollow. Xiaomazi had stolen matches and some bowls and chopsticks from home. He had once told Liu Dashao that if you’re going to play house, you need to make it look real.

Beside the hollow was a pile of straw over two meters high, surrounding a tree that had already shed all its leaves. This straw pile belonged to Liu Laoshi’s family. That day, Liu Dashao had caught a cold and was working in the fields. A few hours later, from a distance, he saw thick smoke rising from the sky above his home.

Liu Laoshi shouted in alarm, dropped his hoe, and ran toward home. As he neared home, he realized it wasn’t the house that was on fire—it was the straw pile behind the hollow. When everyone reached the pile, they found only ashes left. The tree had been charred beyond recognition, reduced to a blackened trunk standing alone.