It had been a long time since Wang Fugui had dreamed of the past.
Back then, Wang Fugui was just an apprentice living as a dependent, desperately trying to please his master every day, barely scraping by while living at the mercy of others' whims.
The first time he saw Wanniang was when the Head Brewer led her into the distillery, bowing and scraping as he introduced her to everyone:
“All of you, look up and straighten your backs! The Qu family spent good money to buy you; they didn't bring you here to be freeloaders!
This is the young mistress of our Qu Family Distillery, Qu Wan.
In the future, the master will eventually hand this distillery over to her.
Make sure you understand who you'll be working for and stay sharp.
If anyone is stupid enough to get on the young mistress's bad side, I won't even have to kick you out—you can pack your bags and get lost yourself!”
Wang Fugui had come to Dingyuan as a refugee.
At home, his father, mother, and younger brother had all starved to death, leaving him as the only survivor.
After a journey of starving and freezing, he had long since developed the habit of keeping his head down.
Wang Fugui vaguely remembered that he only dared to steal a glance after everyone else had finished their greetings.
With just one look, he was stunned.
Her chin was pointed, her eyes curved, looking like they were swimming with clear spring water. Her mouth was small and delicate, like a ripe mountain cherry in the third month of spring.
The young mistress was truly beautiful.
Wang Fugui didn't dare look for long. He quickly lowered his head, staring blankly at his straw sandals, which had a hole in them.
Then Qu Wan walked up to him, suddenly stopped, and asked indifferently, “Are you Wang Fugui?”
Her voice was as pleasant as an oriole's song.
Wang Fugui's mind was a muddle, and he could only nod repeatedly.
At that time, he didn't think much of it; he just felt the young mistress was beautiful, exactly like a fairy in a painting.
—That was the first time Wang Fugui saw Qu Wan.
Working in the distillery was grueling and required hard labor.
Before dawn, even before the roosters were awake, Wang Fugui had to crawl out of bed and join his fellow apprentices in hauling bags of grain from the storehouse one by one.
The burlap sacks were half as tall as a person and filled with heavy grain. They had to be carried to the kitchen on their backs, one by one.
The sun was scorching, making it hard to breathe. Rice husks pricked through the burlap into his neck, stinging and itching.
The coarse hemp ropes used to tie the bags scraped painfully against his flesh. After a morning of hauling, his back would be covered in large patches of blue and purple the next day.
Wang Fugui was naturally thin and weak, and his constitution was poor. Usually, after three or four trips, his eyelids would grow heavy, and the sky would look dark and hazy.
But he had to keep working.
He was someone the Qu family had bought. If he didn't work, he wouldn't even get a full meal.
Most of the apprentices in the Qu Family Distillery were half-grown boys sent by families from neighboring counties, all eleven or twelve years old. Wang Fugui was the only one of his age.
The brewing master looked down on him, and having heard that refugees carried lice, he found a barber to shave Wang Fugui's head until it was patchy and uneven.
The other apprentices always called him “Scabby Head” and mocked him for it.
During the day, they dumped all the heavy labor on Wang Fugui. At night, they always made him do the dirty chores, like emptying chamber pots and scrubbing bedpans.
One time, as he was squatting on the ground washing a chamber pot, he happened to see Qu Wan passing by.
She was wearing expensive silk clothes, her jet-black hair styled beautifully and adorned with two gold hairpins with little flowers that swayed as she moved.
She looked so wealthy it made one afraid to look at her.
Wang Fugui didn't know why, but his heart suddenly felt heavy.
He straightened his back, hid the chamber pot behind him, and stole a glance at her.
He was a little afraid, fearing that Qu Wan would see him scrubbing a chamber pot.
But in his heart, he had a small hope, wishing that Qu Wan would call his name again like she did last time.
Yet, this time, Qu Wan only gave him a fleeting, indifferent glance before frowning and leaving with her two maidservants.
—It was as if Wang Fugui was no different from a blade of grass by the road, a stone, or a tree branch.
Wang Fugui stared at Qu Wan's back in silence for a long time.
He had originally thought Qu Wan was different from the others.
But in the end, she still looked down on him.
So from then on, Wang Fugui always harbored a grudge in his heart.
He wanted to climb up.
No matter the cost, he had to climb up.
Once, when his master was drunk, in a state between sleep and wakefulness, he told Wang Fugui the truth.
As it turned out, Master Qu had taken him in specifically to make him a matrilocal son-in-law for Qu Wan.
—Wang Fugui had no father or mother, and his entire family was dead. Even if he became a matrilocal son-in-law, he wouldn't be able to bully Qu Wan.
Wang Fugui said nothing and quietly left the room, acting as if nothing had happened.
From then on, Wang Fugui became even more diligent and filial toward the old master, serving him even better than a biological son would.
When the master hit him, Wang Fugui met him with a smile. When the master scolded him, Wang Fugui did not get angry.
Even when the master lost his temper and spat in Wang Fugui's face, he would simply wipe the filth away with a grin, as if he didn't care at all.
In private, Wang Fugui was even more industrious.
In the summer, he would use a fan to keep mosquitoes away from the master. In the winter, he would hold the master's feet to his chest to keep them warm.
As for bringing the master foot-washing water or massaging his shoulders and back, those were the most common of tasks.
If the old master told him to go east, Wang Fugui would never go west.
If the old master told him to catch a dog, Wang Fugui would never chase a chicken.
—In private, the other apprentices all cursed him and spoke ill of him, but Wang Fugui was not angry.
Every time he saw the satisfaction in the old master's eyes, he knew he was doing the right thing.
When Qu Wan turned eighteen, Wang Fugui was betrothed to her.
Everyone thought the Qu family had lost their minds, letting a beautiful flower like her fall to a poor boy like Wang Fugui.
But only Wang Fugui knew how much he had sacrificed for this marriage.
A fairy-like figure who was once out of reach had suddenly become his future wife. Wang Fugui felt as though he had been blessed by the heavens.
But to his surprise, when Qu Wan saw him, she still had that same lukewarm attitude.
Once, Qu Wan was seriously ill, and her cough wouldn't go away for a long time.
Wang Fugui heard that wild loquat leaves could cure the illness, so he risked his life to go up Wenshan and brought back a basketful of them.
He thought he would finally get a smile from Qu Wan.
But Qu Wan still had that same indifferent expression.
It was as if she were born superior, and her eyes seemed to have no room for anyone else.
The only things she thought about were brewing, brewing, and more brewing.
Wang Fugui believed he had shown her every kind of kindness and devotion, but in the end, all he got in return was the same wooden Qu Wan.
He could no longer remember when he first started having other thoughts.
Was it when Qu Wan obtained the immortal treasure?
Or was it when he heard that the Qu Family Distillery's “Immortal Brew” had caught the eye of the high-ranking officials in the palace?
Was it after Qu Wan had ignored him for the umpteenth time?
Wang Fugui couldn't remember.
Thirty years had passed, and he still remembered Qu Wan's face in prison—that face that was usually incomparably beautiful and composed had finally shown a look of panic.
It was truly beautiful.
Just like a peony wilted by the rain, her posture was elegant yet so fragile and beautiful.
In many midnight dreams, Wang Fugui would feel a sense of satisfaction at the memory of Wanniang's expression.
Didn't you look down on me?
Weren't you always preoccupied with brewing?
Weren't you always so high and mighty?
Weren't you unwilling to even give me a smile?
Then I'll drag you down, let you fall into this quagmire, and let your whole family wallow in the infamy of being “murderers.”
Let's see how you stay pure and noble then. Let's see how you look down on others.
Wang Fugui was so excited he couldn't sleep for several nights.
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