Mythic Furnace

“This world truly is fascinating—monsters and demons abound here...”
Wang Ling stood at the window, gazing outward. The snow had diminished, no longer filling the sky and earth as it had the day before, yet it still shrouded distant mountains and ancient trees in a white veil.
Wisps of warmth rose from the heated floor, making the entire room cozy; even with the window open, there was little chill.
Outside, in the courtyard separated by a wooden gate, on the gnarled, iron-dark branches of an old tree, clusters of plum blossoms bloomed bravely against the cold.
He recited softly:
“Silken slippers dance above the Luo’s dust,
No more does the banished immortal in brocade appear,
To carry wine and rest on grass is simply pure joy.
Jade-dusted, gentle yellow—the elixir of ages,
Snowflakes drifting, heralding spring in every home...”
His recitation was interrupted by a shout from behind: “Well now, Thirteenth Brother, instead of studying, you busy yourself with idle poetry! If the elders find out, you’ll be lucky to escape with both legs unbroken!”
Turning, Wang Ling saw a tall, bearded young man in wide sleeves, regarding him with amused eyes.
“Seventh Brother, what brings you here?” Wang Ling was not at all afraid; rather, he asked with a hint of curiosity.
After all, it was snowing outside.
“You just mentioned carrying wine and resting on the grass, didn’t you? Naturally, I’ve come to bring you wine...”
He laughed heartily.
“And though these licentious little ditties may not grace the grand hall