Outside the majestic gates of the Imperial City, verdant sprouts reared their tender heads as the end of winter heralded the arrival of spring. Having been covered in snow for an entire season, the soils around the capital finally began to show signs of revival. All around, a burgeoning aura of life washed over the lands.
Along the wide main road just outside of the capital, a crisp clip clop could be heard echoing over the horizon. From a distance away, a figure slowly loomed into view.
It was an old man dressed in a full-bodied robe, riding an ashen-gray donkey while holding a gigantic wine gourd in his hand. As he made his way toward the capital, he would take a swig from his wine gourd from time to time, all the while swaying right and left.
With a satisfied look on his face, the old coot would hum a small ditty between each swig of wine.
