Volume One, Chapter Thirteen: The Tavern Incident

The more Emperor Chu Xiong listened, the more intrigued he became. He never expected that Fang Yang, that reckless youth, would exploit the times in such a manner. First, by having children spread a nursery rhyme, then making a name for his "Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness" wine among the upper echelons at poetry gatherings. Next, by betting with Xie Ping and using comparisons of liquors, he promoted his wine among the common folk, thoroughly establishing its reputation. Finally, he crafted a couplet inspired by the sarcastic remarks of a servant girl from the Song family.

For a moment, Chu Xiong found himself doubting the rumors he had heard—that Fang Yang was truly as despicable as people claimed.

At that moment, the food and drinks were brought in. The small dishes paired with the wine were nothing extravagant, yet perfectly complemented the drink.

“Sir, this is our establishment’s ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness.’ Please enjoy,” the waiter said as he uncorked the wine jug.

Immediately, a rich aroma wafted out. Chu Xiong, who had been indifferent moments before, inhaled sharply, eyes flashing with surprise. “Excellent wine!” he exclaimed, pouring himself a cup.

The moment the liquor touched his throat, Chu Xiong’s eyes widened in astonishment. Wang Bao was startled, and several palace guards immediately stepped forward, ready to restrain the waiter. Seeing this, Chu Xiong quickly swallowed the fierce, spicy wine and waved them off, signaling they need not be so tense.

The waiter was also taken aback. Being suddenly approached by taller, imposing men was naturally intimidating.

Chu Xiong swallowed the burning liquid and said, “Enough. No need to be so nervous. This wine truly is fiery.”

Upon hearing this, the others relaxed. Inside, Chu Xiong’s mind was a turbulent sea of emotions. Just one sip had sent a thrilling heat rushing down his throat, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. This wine was undoubtedly the fiercest in the entire capital.

He pondered silently, ‘Could it truly be brewed by immortal methods, as that prodigal claimed?’

Suppressing his doubts, he looked at the waiter and asked slowly, “Was this wine brewed personally by your young master?”

“Yes. Our young master acquired the immortal brewing technique, which is why it’s called ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness,’” the waiter said proudly.

“Is that so? Do you have other wines? Bring them all for me to try,” Chu Xiong asked with a smile.

The waiter’s expression stiffened but he quickly replied, “Our young master said this is the only wine currently available at the newly opened ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness’ tavern. New varieties should be introduced later.”

He finished with some uncertainty. The shopkeeper of ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness’ was Fang Yang, who had pulled the family accountant into this venture, and the waiters were all household servants. They knew Fang Yang’s usual recklessness and had assumed this was just another passing whim, likely to fail in a few days.

But judging by the current situation, that seemed unlikely.

Seeing the guest no longer asking questions, the waiter wisely withdrew.

After the waiter left, Chu Xiong turned to Wang Bao. “Wang Bao, have a taste.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Wang Bao replied quickly, pouring a small cup and tasting cautiously. His aged face immediately creased in a grimace. “Your Majesty, this wine is incredibly fierce. It hits the throat instantly, and once it reaches the stomach, it feels like a firestorm raging within. I have never encountered such a drink.”

Chu Xiong smiled faintly, lifting his cup and murmuring, “A prodigal who can brew such fine wine and compose an immortal couplet like ‘Painting the lotus and the monk in bloom’—do you think that’s possible?”

“Your Majesty, are you suggesting this prodigal has a master behind him?” Wang Bao asked quietly.

“Heh,” Chu Xiong chuckled, saying nothing further.

Wang Bao pressed on, “Should we summon him to ask?”

“For now, no need. Let’s observe,” Chu Xiong replied calmly.

After all, these two things alone didn’t prove much; he wanted to watch a little longer.

Just then, a group arrived at the entrance of ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness.’ At their head was a young nobleman, face like polished jade, radiant and confident. Behind him trailed a few formidable-looking guards—each clearly a deadly warrior.

“This is the tavern where the ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness’ is served—the one famed for making a prime minister without ever drinking it,” the young man said with a sneer. “Let’s see if this famed wine lives up to its reputation. Most of the capital’s famous liquors are bland, not even half as strong as those from southern Qian.”

The youth strode into the tavern with his guards, radiating authority. This was none other than Mu Ying, son of Duke Mu of Qian—the region governing southern Qian in the great Chu Empire. He was also the informant who had reported Fang Yang’s original self for urinating into the sacrificial gourd at the Imperial Academy.

Due to the special status of southern Qian and the Mu family’s importance, Mu Ying was unafraid of offending a second-generation wastrel like Fang Yang.

He pushed his way inside. Anyone blocking his path was shoved aside by his guards. The long queue of commoners waiting to buy wine was instantly dispersed.

Mu Ying calmly approached the counter. The crowd watched the nobleman with angry eyes but quickly held back upon seeing his guards—clearly not someone to provoke.

“Shopkeeper, I’ll buy all your wine. No more sales to others,” one of the guards barked loudly.

The waiter behind the counter was stunned. He hurried to explain, “Sir, our tavern just opened. The brewing process of ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness’ is extremely complex, so supplies are limited...”

‘Slap!’

The guard slammed a fifty-tael silver ingot on the counter, shouting, “Enough excuses! Do as you’re told. Don’t you think the Duke of Qian’s household lacks money? This is a deposit, so hurry up.”

Startled, the waiter swallowed hard and stammered, “I... I can’t decide. I’ll inform the shopkeeper.”

“Good. Go quickly. You all prepare the wine. We’ll take it away soon,” Mu Ying said coldly.

“Yes, sir!”

The guards hurried to the back to select the wine. The waiter dared not delay and rushed off to the courtyard.

“Bad news, young master! A group outside is fiercely trying to buy out our wine. They’ve already started inventorying,” the waiter reported.

At these words, Fang Yang furrowed his brows tightly.

“How dare they trouble me! Do you know who they are?”

“They’re from the Duke of Qian’s household. They came in and pushed the queuing commoners aside, then handed over fifty taels as a deposit to buy all the wine we have,” the waiter explained in detail.

Hearing this, Fang Yang suddenly stood.

“You say it’s the Duke of Qian’s men buying the wine?”

“Yes, young master. They’re fierce and sinister—definitely not good people.”

Fang Yang’s eyes narrowed. “Excellent! Just what I wanted! Betrayed by the Imperial Academy, pretending to be a refined noble every day—pah!”

“Young master,” Lian’er grabbed his arm gently, shaking her head. She was genuinely afraid. If Fang Yang went out to fight, she wouldn’t know how to explain it to the master.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to fight,” Fang Yang said calmly.

Relieved, Lian’er exhaled.

Fang Yang looked at the guards who had just finished their preparations. Turning to the burly man who stood without a breath, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Reporting, Young Master, my name is Zhang Long!” the man replied in a deep voice.

“Good. From today on, you’re the captain. Come with me. Teach those shameless brats a lesson!”

Waving his hand, Fang Yang strode forward. The guards quickly followed.

Lian’er was stunned—weren’t they not going to fight?

Before she could react, they were already at the front.

“Mu Ying!” Fang Yang called out sharply to the calm figure by the counter.

“Hm?” Mu Ying frowned, surprised someone dared call him by name. Seeing Fang Yang’s face, his brow tightened. “It’s you?”

“That’s right! It’s me! Zhang Long!” Fang Yang barked.

“In position!” Zhang Long responded promptly.

“Take those scoundrels trying to mess with my wine outside!” Fang Yang ordered.

“Understood!”

Soon, Zhang Long and the guards dragged out Mu Ying’s men who had been selecting wine and pushed them before the crowd.

Mu Ying frowned, displeased that what was meant to be a simple drink had turned into a confrontation with this prodigal.

Behind him, two silent men placed hands on their sword hilts, eyes coldly fixed on Zhang Long and company, ready to strike.

“I’m merely here to buy wine, not to cause trouble,” Mu Ying said with a frown.

“Sorry, this tavern belongs to me. So, you’ve already caused trouble,” Fang Yang replied coolly. “Besides, our ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness’ brewing method is extremely complex, so supplies are limited. We cannot fulfill your request.”

He then glanced at Mu Ying, a sly smile playing on his lips. “But since you are the Duke of Qian’s son, you are an exception.”

Mu Ying frowned, saying nothing.

Fang Yang continued, “See that couplet? If you can come up with the matching line, I’ll give you as much wine as you want. How about that?”

He pointed to the upper line of the couplet.

Mu Ying’s lips twitched. Everyone in the capital knew about the immortal couplet from ‘Heavenly Immortal’s Drunkenness.’ It had been a day, yet no one had supplied a fitting lower line.

Turning his head, Mu Ying ignored Fang Yang’s teasing expression and said, “I’m not good with couplets. How about a different challenge—poetry, songs, or prose?”

“Clap!” Fang Yang applauded. “Fine! Poetry it is. You set the topic, and we each compose a poem. If you win, you can take all the wine you want.”

Then, shifting tone sharply, he added, “If I win, from now on, you must call me ‘Big Brother’ whenever you see me, and pay me five hundred taels in compensation for emotional distress and lost work. Deal?”