In late spring in Gusu, a night rain fell. Meng Yanzhi found a destitute young man huddled beneath the eaves at the mouth of an alley and took him in. His name was Jiang Jin: Jiang as in river, Jin as in ashes. One was a carefree, easygoing genius scholar; the other, a stubborn young man reborn from the flames. From a bowl of plain noodle soup to standing shoulder to shoulder at court, they became each other's only anchor.
