Halfway up the mountain, Tingtao Pavilion.
Achang holds a copper mirror, depicting the scene below the mountain.
"Master, someone is offering wine to that Hundred Words Stele!"
Ding Qian immediately chuckled, "What kind of wine is it? Does that wine taste good?"
"I can't smell it, but seeing the crowd beside it stumbling around, that wine must be excellent. Some people are pounding their chests and stamping their feet, shaking their heads repeatedly..."
Achang's words were amusing, and Ding Qian laughed heartily upon hearing them.
He picked up a wine bottle flowing beside him and poured half a cup of fine wine, saying joyfully:
"Fine wine offered to the Hundred Words Stele, how can commoners know its charm? Surely a remarkable person has come to the foot of the mountain. I wonder when this person will be able to ascend the mountain? Alas."
He sighed again, feeling rather lonely.
