The cold wind in Julu County was beating against the door of the tavern. I sat behind the counter and quoted three times the market price of braised pork without raising my head. The young man across from me got up and called me a gangster, while the middle-aged man next to me drank tea in silence. I have the Moutai recipe of Quyuuli refined salt with chili seeds in my mind, and I am planning to go to Xianyang to offer treasures in exchange for the chancellor. The young man grabbed the menu and continued to argue. I slowly added that I would pay for this meal, and I would pay back double the amount when I got an official position in Xianyang. The middle-aged man finally put down his tea bowl, and a smile that I couldn't understand flashed across his eyes. He didn't know that this silent tea guest was the King of Qin whom I was thinking of defecting to.
