That day, as Lin Chong wandered idly along, someone called out behind him. Turning around, he recognized Li Xiao'er, the wine seller. Back in the Eastern Capital, Lin Chong had looked after him well. Earlier, Li Xiao'er had stolen from his master's shop and been caught, facing prosecution. Lin Chong had intervened, made apologies on his behalf, paid compensation, and saved him from court. He'd even given him traveling money to leave the capital. Now, unexpectedly, they met here.

"Little Brother Li, how do you come to be here?" Lin Chong asked.

Li Xiao'er bowed and said: "After my benefactor saved me and gave me funds, I wandered everywhere seeking work but found none. At last I came to Cangzhou and found a tavern keeper named Wang who took me in as his helper. Seeing that I was diligent, knew how to prepare dishes well, and season sauces properly, customers praised me, and business flourished. My master had a daughter and took me as his son-in-law. Now both my in-laws are dead, leaving only my wife and myself. We've opened a small tea-and-wine shop near the garrison camp. I was collecting money owed when I encountered you, benefactor. What brings you to this place?"

Pointing at his branded face, Lin Chong said: "I offended Marshal Gao, who contrived false charges against me. I suffered a trial and was sentenced to exile here. Now they've put me in charge of the Heavenly King Hall. Who knows what the future holds? I never imagined meeting you here today."

Li Xiao'er invited Lin Chong into his home, seated him, and called his wife out to bow to their benefactor. The couple said joyfully: "We have no relatives at all. Today our benefactor arrives like a gift from heaven!"

"I am a convicted criminal," Lin Chong protested. "I fear I'll bring shame upon you both."

"Who doesn't know your reputation?" Li Xiao'er replied. "Don't speak that way. If you have any clothes, bring them here for washing and mending."

They entertained Lin Chong with food and wine until nightfall, then escorted him back to the Heavenly King Hall. The next day they invited him again. Thus Lin Chong frequently visited Li Xiao'er's home, and from time to time they sent soup and water to the camp for him. Seeing how respectful and devoted the couple were, Lin Chong often gave them silver as capital for their business.

But let us set aside these digressions and speak of what matters. Time passed swiftly, and winter arrived. Lin Chong's padded clothes and quilted gowns were all sewn and mended by Li Xiao'er's wife.

One day, Li Xiao'er was arranging vegetables before his shop when a man slipped in and sat down in the tavern, followed immediately by another who entered the same way. Looking at them: the first wore an officer's uniform; the second appeared to be his attendant, who came and sat down as well.

Li Xiao'er went in and asked: "Would you gentlemen like some wine?"

The officer produced a tael of silver and handed it over, saying: "Keep this on the counter. Bring three or four bottles of good wine. When my guests arrive, serve fruits and dishes freely—don't ask questions."

"What guests will you be receiving?" Li Xiao'er asked.

"Go to the garrison camp and invite the superintendent and the warden to come speak with me. If they ask who's inviting them, just say a certain official requests their presence to discuss some business, and is waiting specially."

Li Xiao'er agreed and went to the prison camp, where he first fetched the warden; together they went to the superintendent's house and brought him along. Both came to the tavern. The officer exchanged greetings with the superintendent and warden.

The superintendent said: "We've never met. May I ask your honorable name?"

"There's a letter here," the man replied. "You'll know soon enough. Bring wine first."

Li Xiao'er hastily opened wine bottles while laying out dishes, fruits, and delicacies. The officer called for serving cups, poured drinks, and made his guests sit down. Li Xiao'er alone darted back and forth like a shuttle, unable to keep up with the service. The attendant fetched a hot-water bucket and warmed wine himself. After about a dozen cups were drunk, more appetizers were ordered and set on the table. Then the officer said: "I have my own servant to warm the wine. Don't come unless called—we need to talk privately."

Li Xiao'er acknowledged this and went to the doorway, where he told his wife: "Wife, these two men are up to no good."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Their speech has an Eastern Capital accent. At first they didn't know the superintendent, but when I brought in dishes, I heard the warden mutter the words 'Marshal Gao.' Could this have something to do with Instructor Lin? I'll keep watch here. You go behind the partition and listen to what they say."

"Go find Instructor Lin and have him come identify them," she suggested.

"You don't understand," said Li Xiao'er. "Instructor Lin is hot-tempered—if he doesn't get answers, he'll kill or start a fire. If we bring him here and he recognizes that man as the Staff Officer Lu from before, would he let it pass? If trouble erupts, you and I will be implicated. Just go listen first."

"You're right," she said, and went inside to listen for an hour. Coming out, she reported: "Three or four of them talked with heads together, and I couldn't make out a word. But I saw the one in officer's uniform take a cloth bundle from his attendant's breast and hand it to the superintendent and warden—inside that cloth must be gold and silver. And I heard the warden say: 'Leave it all to us. We'll finish him off no matter what.'"

Just then, from inside came a call for more soup. Li Xiao'er hurried in to change the pot and saw the superintendent holding a letter. After changing the soup and adding dishes, another half hour passed. The guests settled their bill, and the superintendent and warden left first. Then the other two also departed, heads bowed.

Not long after they'd gone, Lin Chong walked into the shop. "Little Brother Li, business looks good these days."

Li Xiao'er said hurriedly: "Benefactor, please sit down. I was just about to look for you—I have something important to tell you." And indeed:

Plots are hatched that shake heaven's gate; Whispered words can move an army. Not only do walls have ears— All the gods and spirits know.

"What urgent matter?" Lin Chong asked.

Li Xiao'er invited him inside to sit and said: "Just now a suspicious pair from the Eastern Capital came here, treated the superintendent and warden to half a day of wine. The warden muttered 'Marshal Gao'—that made me uneasy. I sent my wife to listen for an hour, but they only whispered together so she couldn't catch anything. At the end she heard the warden answer: 'Leave it to us two. We'll finish him off no matter what.' Those two handed a packet of gold and silver to the superintendent and warden. After more drinking, they all went their ways. I don't know who these people are, but I fear some harm may be planned against you."

"What did this man look like?" Lin Chong asked.

"Short and stocky, with a fair, clean-shaven face—about thirty years old or so. The attendant was not tall either, with a dark purplish complexion."

Lin Chong started in alarm: "That thirty-year-old is none other than Staff Officer Lu Qian! That base scoundrel dares come here to harm me! If I catch him, I'll grind his bones to mud!"

"Just be on your guard," said Li Xiao'er. "Haven't you heard the old saying—'Guard against choking when eating, guard against falling when walking'?"

Blazing with anger, Lin Chong left Li Xiao'er's house. He went first to the market and bought a sharp dagger, which he strapped to his person. Then through front streets and back alleys he searched everywhere. Li Xiao'er and his wife sweated in fear. That night nothing happened.

The next morning, after washing up, Lin Chong put on his knife and searched Cangzhou city inside and out, through every narrow lane and alley, for a full day. In the prison camp, there was no stir. Again he came to Li Xiao'er: "Another day with nothing happening."

"Benefactor," said Li Xiao'er, "let's hope it stays that way. Just be careful yourself."

Lin Chong returned to the Heavenly King Hall and passed another night. For three or five days he searched the streets but found no trace, and gradually his vigilance slackened.

On the sixth day, the superintendent summoned Lin Chong to the muster hall and said: "You've been here a while now, and out of respect for Squire Chai, I haven't promoted you. Fifteen li beyond the East Gate there's a large military fodder yard. Every month those who deliver hay and grain pay customary fees. There was an old soldier watching over it—now I'm promoting you to replace him and guard the Heavenly King Hall instead. You can earn some cash there. Go with the warden to take over."

"I'll go at once," Lin Chong replied.

Leaving camp, he went straight to Li Xiao'er's home and told the couple: "Today the superintendent has assigned me to manage the military fodder yard. What do you make of that?"

"This is better than the Heavenly King Hall," said Li Xiao'er. "Collecting hay there brings customary fees. Usually without bribing you can't get such a post."

"It doesn't seem meant to harm me—instead they give me a good assignment. I wonder what it means."

"Don't be suspicious, benefactor. Let's hope for the best. It's just that we'll be farther apart now; I'll find time to come visit you."

They prepared some wine at home and treated Lin Chong.

Without further talk, the two parted. Lin Chong went to the Heavenly King Hall, packed his bundle, took his dagger and his patterned spear, then with the warden he bade farewell to the superintendent and set out for the fodder yard. It was deep winter weather: dense clouds gathered, a north wind rose, and soon snow began swirling down in great flakes. The snowfall thickened:

Bitter cold condensed in mist; From heaven fell auspicious flurries. In moments, roads vanished from the wilds; Soon, mountain traces disappeared. A world of silver, a realm of jade— The distant Kunlun range looms dim. Should this snow fall past midnight watch, It might fill up the Jade Emperor's very gate.

On the road, Lin Chong and the warden found no place to buy wine. They soon arrived at the fodder yard: a ring of yellow-earth walls with two large gates. Pushing them open, they saw seven or eight thatched huts serving as granaries, haystacks everywhere, and in the middle two thatched sheds.

Inside one shed sat the old soldier warming himself by a fire. The warden said: "The superintendent has sent this man Lin Chong to replace you. You're to return and guard the Heavenly King Hall. Hand over your duties now."

The old soldier took his keys and showed Lin Chong around, explaining: "The granaries are sealed with official markings. These haystacks all have their counts recorded." He checked through the stacks, then led Lin Chong into the thatched shed where he packed up his things. As he left, he said: "The brazier, pot, and bowls—I'll lend them to you."

"I've got my own at the Heavenly King Hall," said Lin Chong. "If you want these, take them along."

The old soldier pointed to a large gourd hanging on the wall: "If you want wine, just leave the yard, head east along the main road for two or three li—there's a market village." Then he and the warden went back to camp.

Lin Chong set his bundle and bedding on the bed frame and sat down, building up a fire. Nearby lay a pile of charcoal; he took some pieces and lit them in the earthen stove. Looking up at the thatched shed, he saw it was collapsing on all sides, rattling and shaking in the north wind.

"How can this hut survive the winter?" Lin Chong muttered. "Once the snow clears, I'll fetch a mason from town to repair it."

He warmed himself for a while but still felt cold. Remembering what the old soldier had said about a market two li away, he thought: "Why not go buy some wine?" He took bits of silver from his bundle, hung the gourd on his patterned spear, covered the charcoal with ashes, put on his felt hat, and took the keys. He shut the shed door, went out to the main gate, locked both doors behind him, pocketed the keys, and strolled east.

Crunching through snow like crushed jade, he walked against the north wind. The snow fell harder now. Before half a li, he came upon an old temple. Lin Chong bowed and said: "Spirits protect me—one day I'll return to burn paper money." Walking on, he soon saw a cluster of houses. Stopping to look, he noticed a straw whisk hanging from a fence in the open air.

Lin Chong went into the shop, and the proprietor asked: "Where does our guest come from?"

"Do you recognize this gourd?" Lin Chong asked.

The man examined it: "This gourd belongs to the old soldier at the fodder yard."

"Just so."

"Since you're the keeper of the fodder yard," said the host, "please sit a while. The weather's cold—let me pour three cups to welcome you."

He sliced a plate of cooked beef, warmed a jug of wine, and served Lin Chong. Lin Chong bought more beef himself and drank several more cups. Then he purchased a gourdful of wine, wrapped up two pieces of beef, left some loose silver, hung the gourd on his spear, tucked the beef into his breast, called out his thanks, and stepped back through the fence gate to return against the north wind.

By evening, the snow fell harder than ever. An old scholar once wrote a lyric about the misery of bitter poverty in snow:

The freezing wind scrapes the earth; This snow falls just right— Strips like willow catkins and cotton wadding, Pieces as large as winnowing baskets. Bamboo groves and thatched huts Are nearly crushed beneath it. Yet wealthy households say: "It's not enough to press down the miasma!" They warm themselves at red charcoal stoves, Dressed in padded coats and quilted gowns, Plucking plum blossoms, singing of heaven's blessings— Never sparing a thought for the poor.

Now Lin Chong trod through that auspicious snow, racing against the north wind until he reached the fodder yard gate. He unlocked it and went in—then cried out in dismay.

Heaven's justice is clear; it protects the righteous. That great snowfall saved Lin Chong's life: the two thatched sheds had been crushed flat by the snow.

"What now?" he wondered, setting down his spear and gourd in the snow.

Fearing that live coals in the brazier might start a fire among the ruins, he moved aside broken wall panels and reached half his body inside to feel around. The brazier's embers had been drowned by melted snow. Groping on the bed frame, he found only a quilted blanket. He crawled back out. It was getting dark.

"No place to light a fire," he thought. "What can I do? There's that old temple half a li away—I can shelter there for the night and decide what to do at dawn."

He rolled up the blanket, hung the gourd on his spear, shut and locked the gate again, and made for the temple. Entering through its door, he closed it behind him. Beside the entrance lay a large rock; he heaved it over and propped it against the door.

Inside, the hall held a golden-armored Mountain Spirit statue flanked by a judge and a small demon, with a pile of paper offerings stacked to one side. Looking around: no neighbors, no temple keeper. Lin Chong set his spear and gourd on the paper stack and spread out the quilted blanket. First he took off his felt hat and shook the snow from his clothes; then he removed his white cloth outer robe—already half soaked—and laid it with the hat on the offering table. He pulled the blanket over his lower body, lifted the cold gourd wine to his lips, and drank slowly, eating the beef from his breast.

As he ate, he heard a crackling pop outside. Lin Chong sprang up and peered through a crack in the wall. The fodder yard was ablaze! Flames roared and spread:

Snow defies the fire's might; Hay feeds the flames' fury. One fears wind atop the grass— And marvels: coals delivered amid snow! A red dragon leaps and rolls— How scatter the jade-white scales? White butterflies whirl in flight— Can they quench the blazing lotus? At first one thinks the Fire God rides his steed Across these pasturelands; Or that the Southern Phoenix drives his birds To nest on every side. Who knew disaster would rise from open ground? Trust that in darkness, eyes like lightning see. This fire could rouse a righteous man to fury; This snow should chill the hearts of wicked men.

Lin Chong grabbed his spear and was about to open the door to fight the fire when he heard voices outside. He crouched by the door and listened. Three sets of footsteps approached, heading straight for the temple. Hands pushed at the door, but the rock held it fast. The three stood under the eaves watching the blaze.

One said: "How's this plan working out?"

Another answered: "Truly we must thank the superintendent and warden for their efforts! When we return to the capital and report to Marshal Gao, he'll surely make you both high officials. This time Instructor Zhang will have no excuse."

The first spoke again: "This time Lin Chong is done for at our hands—Young Master Gao's sickness will surely be cured."

A third voice said: "That Instructor Zhang! Three times, five times we sent people to tell him: 'Your son-in-law is dead.' But the more we pressed, the less he'd agree. That's why Young Master Gao's illness grew worse. The marshal specially sent us two to beg you gentlemen to handle this matter—and now it's accomplished."

Another said: "I climbed over the wall myself and lit a dozen torches among the haystacks. Where could he flee?"

"By now it's burned eight-tenths done," said one.

A third voice chimed in: "Even if he escaped with his life, burning the military fodder yard means death by law."

"Let's head back to town," one suggested.

Another said: "Wait a bit longer. If we can pick up a bone or two of his to take back to the capital and show the marshal and young master, they'll see how capable we are."

Lin Chong recognized all three voices: one was the warden, one was Lu Qian, and one was Fu An. He thought: "Heaven has pity on Lin Chong! Had that shed not collapsed, these curs would surely have burned me to death."

Gently he moved the rock aside. Leveling his spear, he flung open the temple door with his left hand and roared: "Where do you base scoundrels think you're going?"

All three tried to flee but were frozen in terror, unable to move.

Lin Chong thrust once—shrak!—and impaled the warden, dropping him on the spot. Lu Qian cried out "Spare me!" but his hands and feet failed him. Fu An managed less than ten steps before Lin Chong caught up and stabbed him through the back, felling him too.

Turning around, Lin Chong saw Lu Qian barely three or four steps away. "You treacherous thief! Where do you think you're going?" He grabbed Lu Qian by the chest and flung him down on the snow-covered ground. Planting his spear in the earth, he set his foot on Lu Qian's chest and drew out his dagger. Pressing the blade against Lu Qian's face, he shouted: "You base villain! I had no grudge against you—why did you plot to destroy me? Murder can be forgiven, but this outrage cannot!"

"Not my doing!" Lu Qian pleaded. "The marshal ordered it. I dared not refuse."

"You treacherous swine! We grew up together as friends, and now you come to destroy me—how is that not your doing? Take this blade!" Tearing open the upper part of Lu Qian's clothes, he drove the dagger into his chest with a single thrust. Blood gushed from every orifice. Lin Chong pulled out the heart and liver and held them in his hand.

Turning around, he saw the warden struggling to rise. Lin Chong pinned him down: "So you were just as vicious! Take this blade!" He cut off the man's head and hung it on his spear. Then he went back and severed the heads of Fu An and Lu Qian as well. Sheathing his dagger, he tied all three men's hair together into a single knot, carried them into the temple, and laid them out on the offering table before the Mountain Spirit.

Then he put on his white cloth robe, fastened his sash, donned his felt hat, and drained the last of the cold wine from his gourd. Leaving the blanket and gourd behind, he took up his spear and strode east out of the temple gate.

Within three or five li, he saw villagers from a nearby hamlet rushing to fight the fire with buckets and hooks. "Go quickly and save what you can!" Lin Chong called. "I'm going to report this to the authorities." He kept walking, spear in hand:

Heaven's justice is clear and cannot be deceived; Do not mistake evil schemes for righteous plans. Had he not braved wind and snow to buy village wine, He surely would have burned to ash and bone. The wicked thought their poison worked unseen— They never knew the gods were watching close. Most worthy of praise: from death's very door, He rose a towering hero.

The snow fell ever more fiercely. Lin Chong walked east for two watches of the night, his thin clothes no match for the cold. Looking around in the snowy darkness, he saw he'd left the fodder yard far behind. Ahead, deep in a sparse wood where trees tangled together, stood several thatched cottages bowed under snow, firelight flickering through cracks in their broken walls.

Lin Chong headed straight for them and pushed open a door. Inside sat an old estate hand by a blazing earthen stove, with four or five younger laborers seated around him warming themselves. Lin Chong stepped forward: "Greetings to you all. I'm a man sent from the prison camp. My clothes are soaked through with snow—may I warm myself at your fire?"

"Warm yourself if you like," said one of the men. "No harm in that."

As Lin Chong dried his wet clothes, he noticed an earthen jar warming by the coals, and from it came the fragrance of wine. "I have some loose silver on me," he said. "Could I trouble you for a little wine?"

The old estate hand said: "We take turns watching the grain bins every night. It's now the fourth watch and freezing cold—we don't even have enough for ourselves. Don't count on it!"

"Just two or three bowls to ward off the chill," Lin Chong pressed.

"Stop pestering us!" snapped the old man.

But the smell of wine made Lin Chong want it all the more. "I've no other way—please, just a little."

The laborers said: "We were kind enough to let you dry your clothes by our fire, and now you beg for wine! Leave if you're going; if not, we'll string you up right here!"

"You fellows have no sense of decency!" Lin Chong snarled. He took his spear, scooped up a blazing ember from the fire, and flicked it straight into the old man's face, then stirred the stove with his spear so that sparks scattered everywhere. The old man's beard caught fire and blazed. All the laborers leaped to their feet. Lin Chong swung his spear shaft wildly. The old man fled first; the others, unable to move fast enough, were beaten and driven off one by one.

"They're all gone," said Lin Chong. "Now I'll drink in peace." On the earthen sleeping platform lay two coconut ladles. He took one down, dipped into the wine jar, and drank for a good while until half remained. Then he picked up his spear and went out the door.

Step by step, unsteady, stumbling, he could barely keep his footing. Before he'd gone a single li, a blast of north wind sent him tumbling beside a mountain stream, where he couldn't get up again. As with any drunkard who falls, once down he could not rise. And so Lin Chong lay unconscious in the snow.

Meanwhile the laborers fetched more than twenty men and came back to the cottage bearing spears and clubs—but Lin Chong was gone. Following his tracks through the snow, they found him lying there, his patterned spear cast aside. They swarmed over him, hauled him up, and bound him with rope. In the fifth watch, they carried him off to a certain place.

And that place was no ordinary spot. It would lead—as fate would have it—to Liao'er Marsh, where thousands of warships would one day be arrayed; to the Water Margin stronghold, where a hundred heroes would take their stand. Truly:

The very telling chills the flesh with killing air; The speaking sends cold grief through bone and marrow.

But as for where those laborers carried Lin Chong, you must hear the next chapter to know.