On New Year's Eve in 1961, I woke up with a hangover and was homeless, and vowed to give up drinking to survive. Mrs. Jia Zhang brought a bowl to ask for a drink, but I smashed the wine jar with my backhand. Yi Zhonghai said that I didn't understand human feelings, so I took out the brewing recipe and sold it to the street office. Three days later, the whole hospital lined up to beg me to open a wine shop. I pointed at the door of Jia's house and asked her to return my three kilograms of food stamps first.
