By now the wine was gushing from the spouts-one crock, then another, each of which 

was stacked alongside the pile of firewood. Suddenly Yu Zhan'ao climbed down off 

the pile, undid his pants, and pissed into one of the brimming crocks. The shocked men

numbly watched the steam of clear liquid splash into the wine crock and send sprays

over the sides.  When he'd finished, he smirked and staggered up to Grandma, whose 

cheeks were flushed.  She didn't move as he wrapped his arms around her and planted 

a kiss on her face.  She paled, stumbled, and sat down hard on the stool.      


How daring of him! Is he going to be whipped again? Didn't he have a taste of it 


Weird enough, Dai seems to be soften by his manly manifestation and she did not utter

a word, dazed as she was being described.


"That child in your belly," he demanded angrily. "Is it mine or isn't it?"


Grandma was crying. "If you say so . . ."


It soon is reunion time for the couple and no one ever guess how effective and useful

was that pissing into the crock entails.