When she got home, Zheng Shaolian was still napping in the fruit-laden pear tree. The pears wouldn't ripen until July, and since he couldn't eat any yet, the guy simply refused to come down, having sweet dreams pillowed by the tree's fragrant bounty.
The large pear tree, much like the old maple by the river, had drunk its fill of spiritual spring water from the Treasure Pearl Space. The entire tree was putting all its energy into sprouting branches and leaves, growing more lush and luxuriant than ever. The flavor of its fruit had improved by several notches. While they still looked like the yellow-skinned local pears of the South on the outside, their snow-white flesh inside was as sweet as honey, rivaling the famous tribute pears from the Northwest.
