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"It was brewed from plums and will be opened next spring, named ’a branch of spring.’
"Your mother adored it when she was younger, but her tolerance was poor. After drinking, she would sway unsteadily and eventually sit right down in the snow. Then leaning back, her head would hit the plum tree."
"The plum tree would shake, dropping a lot of snow on her head, but she never got angry. Instead, she just stretched out her hand to catch the snow and play with it."
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