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Di Xi, a native of Zhongshan, could brew a wine that left anyone who drank it drunk for a thousand days. A man from the same province, Liu Xuanshi, was fond of wine and went to ask him for some. Xi said, “My wine has not yet finished fermenting. I dare not serve it to you.” Xuanshi said, “Even if it is not ready, could you not let me have just one cup?” At these words, Xi could hardly refuse and gave him a drink. Xuanshi asked for more, saying, “Wonderful! Let me have another.” Xi said, “Go home for now. Come back another day. This one cup alone will make you sleep for a thousand days.” Xuanshi took his leave, looking somewhat abashed. When he reached home, he fell into a drunken stupor so deep that he seemed dead. His family suspected nothing; they wept for him and buried him. Three years passed. Xi said, “Xuanshi must be due to wake from the wine. I ought to go and see him.” He went to Xuanshi’s house and asked, “Is Xuanshi at home?” The family were all astonished. “Xuanshi has been dead so long,” they said, “that our mourning is already over.” Alarmed, Xi said, “Such was the excellence of the wine that it sent him into a drunken sleep for a thousand days. He should be waking now.” He told the family to dig into the grave and break open the coffin to look. Vapors of sweat rose from the grave to the heavens. At his urging they opened the grave, and there they saw Xuanshi open his eyes, stretch his mouth, and cry in a drawn-out voice, “What a glorious drunkenness!” Then he asked Xi, “What was that you made? One cup left me so drunk that I have only just woken today. How high is the sun?” Everyone standing over the grave laughed. But when the wine fumes from Xuanshi’s breath swept into their nostrils, they too fell into a drunken sleep, each for three months.