In the bitter winter of Jian'an Year 4, snow blanketed the land outside Xuchang. Cao Cao reined in his horse before a farmhouse. Xun Yu said the maker of the curved-plough was at a manor thirty li away. He rode out of the city with Xu Chu and Cao Ren, stopping before a small courtyard. Xu Chu lifted a leg and kicked the door and its frame flying inward. When the dust settled, a young man was crouched in the courtyard, tinkering with pieces of wood.
Standing amid the splinters, Cao Cao looked down at a part of the curved-plough and asked what it was. The young man stood up and said it was for plowing fields. Snowflakes fell on the wood chips and onto the young man's shoulders.
Cao Cao stood there for a while, then turned and left. Only the young man remained in the courtyard, staring at the splinters scattered across the ground. The wind kept blowing, and the snow kept falling. He crouched down and gathered the scattered wood into a pile, then turned and went inside.
The door was gone. Wind rushed in through the doorway, and snow drifted beside the stove. He stood in the house watching the falling snow until dark, then finally lit a fire. Firelight spilled through the doorless entrance and onto the snow, the only light in the village.
