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Where colorful butterflies flutter, I naturally follow.

By Yuanshui Bridge, be there or be square.

Mei Fugui, who is waiting for you forever

A few red plum blossoms dotted on, a few snowflakes drifting down, a few butterflies drawn on. The wing-spread colorful insects were pasted flat on the snowy plum blossoms, looking as if they were stuck on a spider web, unable to fly away.

"Holy sh*t!! Such poetic imagery, I am simply too amazing! Heh-heh-heh!"

"Young Master Ba, what are you sh*tting on about?"

"Go away, this is Eastern language, understand? What kind of education do you have, eat more and talk less."

"..."

He tossed aside the brush, flicked his wide sleeves, pulled out a seal, and stamped it with a bang, drawing an extra red plum blossom with a gold ingot at the corner.

"Done, work's finished."

"Young Master Ba, you... this... is this considered finished? This is the first love letter of my life, which is very important to me and even to the continuation of the Mei Household's ancestral line and passing on of the family name."

"I can't manage things like passing on the ancestral line or continuing the family name. But rest assured. I have always considered things most carefully for my patrons. Look, I even turned both your name and your beloved's name into important elements integrated into the entire love letter. I guarantee that after reading the letter, your sweetheart will be intoxicated by your creativity, talent, and deep affection, and will desperately want to fly right over to Yuanshui Bridge to fly together with you like mandarin ducks."

"Is it really that miraculous? Let me see."

"Pay the silver first, then take the goods. That's the rule."

"Bah. Poor, stinky scholar. The affection between Die'er and me is priceless!"

As soon as his voice trailed off, a small piece of broken silver was slap-landed on the table ungraciously. Money and goods changed hands simultaneously, and the love letter paper overflowing with fragrant aroma was pushed to the edge of the table.

Young Master Ba, looking like a scholar, broke into a wide smile, weighed the silver, and put it into his pocket. "Take your priceless love letter home and read it slowly. I'm closing the shop door and leaving a step ahead."

"Wait. Bookish Ba." The man who had forked over the silver began to become a bit difficult to reason with, grabbing the short scholar by the collar. "Sss----although I, Mei Fugui, haven't read many books, can you explain to me why plum blossoms blooming in winter would have butterflies resting on top of them?"

He had never seen butterflies so lively in the dead of winter.

Young Master Ba raised his eyebrows, swatted away the man's dark claws, and leisurely tidied the collar of his long robe. "Let me ask you, when are butterflies supposed to appear?"

"No matter what, shouldn't they pick a warm day?"

"What about plum blossoms?"

"The dead of winter."

"Your surname is Mei?"

"Who doesn't know me, Mei Fugui? Around these parts, whenever people mention thousands of mu of fertile land, a family fortune of ten thousand strings of cash, and an only son to carry on the family line, don't they immediately think of me, Mei—"

"Your family's wealth will probably be gone by your generation too... Such bad luck."

"What are you muttering about?"

"Ahem, what little old me means is, your surname is Mei, and your beloved is named Die. One blooms in the bitter cold of the twelfth lunar month, while the other flutters in the warm, blooming season of spring..."

"What does that indicate?"

"..." That indicated that the two of you had no chance at all, you were thinking too much, you were too full, chasing butterflies in the dead of winter—bah, but... subtext was the most taboo thing to speak aloud; once spoken aloud, it lost its aesthetic appeal, its poetic imagery, and its harmony, didn't it? Right in front of a patron, of course he had to say: "That indicates your fate with each other was destined by the heavens and your affection is firmer than gold. You are willing to bloom in the warm sun for her, and she is able to fly into the bitter winter for you. This is a hyperbolic artistic treatment method in literary works, do you understand? Understand, understand, understand??"

"Is... is that how it is?"

"Bah, within a radius of a hundred li, no one dares to doubt Zhu Bafu's professional proficiency in writing love letters. On this entire street, which newlywed young couple didn't use my calligraphy copybooks to piece themselves into a pair! Why can't you chase women? It's precisely because of your stubborn, unyielding brain. Do you know what stubborn and unyielding means? It means that once upon a time, there was a wealthy landowner who had no romance or flair, who only knew how to count gold ingots all day long, and who, relying on his wealth, gnawed on spare ribs every single day—gnawing, gnawing, gnawing—until his gastrointestinal tract became blocked and unable to digest!"

"Eh? Stubborn and unyielding... So that's what it meant? No wonder Die'er also says that about me..."

"Knowing where you went wrong, go fix it quickly. This time I won't charge you a consultation fee. For a short time, I don't want to see you! Disappear from my sight."

"Yes... y-yes, many thanks to Young Master Ba for your guidance. I'm disappearing, disappearing... Then after Die'er reads this letter you helped me write, will she definitely keep the appointment?"

"If she hasn't kept the appointment yet, it means your improvements haven't reached the mark!"

"I understand. Starting today, I simply won't eat spare ribs anymore!"

"Hmph. I hope you keep your word."

The sucker of a patron vanished at the end of the street. The small piece of broken silver was tossed into a small pouch. With a pull of the pink embroidered threads by fair, slender fingers, a young master in a green-bottomed, white-silk long robe spat out his tongue, his face brimming with triumphant smiles. That Maiden Die'er had long since spread the word that she wanted to marry a cultured scholar who could read, and didn't care for the Mei Household's lousy silver at all. A single love letter to win over a woman? That was only about right when a woman's heart was stirred with spring-like longing. As for this matter, he had to find a way out for himself in advance and clear his name—this jinx of a man failing to catch a woman mustn't ruin his golden signboard.

Lifting the front hem of the man's skirt-like garment, the pink scholar tucked the silver pieces into his waistband. Glancing at a folded love letter on the table, he curled his lips, decisively grabbed a bundle of them, and shoved them into his waistband as well. Hurriedly pulling down his clothes, he snatched a folded paper fan from the table, bit it between his lips, and rushed out anxiously.

Barely had he run a few steps when two or three women behind him gathered into a little circle, endlessly pointing and gesturing at him, covering their mouths and smiling flirtatiously, feeling like thorns pricking his back.

"It's Young Master Ba from Wuya Bookstore. Today, he's also brimming with a dazzling scholarly aura from head to toe. Such a gorgeous and exquisite young master, overflowing with literary talent and writing exceptionally well. I wonder which young miss's household has the fortune to be able to afford him."

"If a scholar isn't brimming with a scholarly aura, could he be oozing a murderous aura instead? He's not as special as you make him out to be. Look at how sissy he is, with a thin neck and swaying waist like a woman."

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