Chapter Thirty-Three: Effortless Mastery

On one side of Lingxian County lies a series of hills, and atop them are several pavilions. Among these, one is named the Pavilion of Literary Brush, from which the entirety of East Lake can be seen in a sweeping glance.

East Lake is a sizable body of water in Lingxian County, embraced by verdant mountains, its waters clear and emerald. Fishing islets, small villages, lychee orchards, groves of banana trees, and flocks of gulls and egrets all intermingle, making the lake resemble a jeweled mirror.

Standing upon the hilltop, one can savor the splendor of the sunset and the brilliance of the evening clouds. The whole lake district seems draped in a rainbow-hued garment; the water takes on the color of ink and jade, the waves shimmer with gold.

The air here is exceptionally fresh, a gentle breeze caresses the face and brings peace to the heart.

East Lake is also a favored destination for scholars and poets. The merchants of Lingxian County have recognized the business opportunity and set up taverns and teahouses around the pavilions, providing places for literati to drink, write, and recite poetry.

Ran Yunbiao, of gentry origin, owns several hundred acres of fertile land and his family is quite affluent. Thus Wang Zhihui arranged a banquet and set the table within the Pavilion of Literary Brush, where four young men and one half-grown boy sat together, drinking and enjoying themselves.

"Gentlemen, for the sake of our camaraderie, let us drain this cup," said Wang Ziying, a robust and tall young man whose appearance was more like that of a warrior than a scholar, and whose temperament was lively and bold.

"There is no greater joy in the world than sharing studies with friends. Please, gentlemen," Zeng Gongming declared, drinking his wine in a single gulp.

Once again, they drank. Li Sanjian wondered in his heart: Why must friendship and poetry always be accompanied by wine? Is nothing possible without it?

Though Li Sanjian grumbled inwardly, he too drained his cup.

The taste was pleasant enough—he licked his lips and thought to himself that the wine was not strong and carried a subtle hint of lychee.

Li Sanjian, Zeng Gongming, and Ran Yunbiao all emptied their cups, but Sima Du only took a small sip.

"Brother Feiyuan, this wine is called Lychee Spirits. It's brewed from lychees and tastes quite good. Why do you...?" Ran Yunbiao, secretly dissatisfied, asked.

"I have little tolerance for alcohol and cannot drink much. Please forgive me," replied Sima Du, bowing respectfully.

"This wine is mild—even after a thousand cups, one would not be drunk. Why not drink a few more? Why are you so reluctant, Brother Feiyuan?" Ran Yunbiao pressed.

"Enough, say no more," Zeng Gongming noticed Sima Du's embarrassment and nudged Ran Yunbiao, trying to smooth things over. "Brother Feiyuan is the top scholar in both the county and the school, soon to enter the provincial academy. Unlike you, he does not drink recklessly."

Zeng Gongming's words, though meant to help, sounded faintly mocking.

Sima Du came from a well-established scholarly family, one of the few in Guangnan West Route. From an early age, he had immersed himself in literature and poetry, and after entering the county academy, he excelled consistently. Recommended by Lingxian County's academy, he was about to enter Guizhou's provincial academy. Should he continue to excel, he might enter the Imperial Academy, which would promise him a brilliant future.

"In such a splendid setting, I am already intoxicated by the beauty—why rely on wine?" Sima Du replied, smiling gently, unaffected by the banter.

"Can beauty be eaten?" Ran Yunbiao snorted, taking another hefty gulp of wine.

Li Sanjian, sensing the awkward atmosphere, raised his cup to change the subject. "Lychee Spirits? Truly, the wine lives up to its name. The flavor is excellent. I wonder how it is made?"

Some people are simply unable to drink; a single sip leaves them drunk. Why force them?

Sima Du nodded to Li Sanjian in gratitude.

"What, Brother Hanren? Are you planning to brew wine yourself?" Zeng Gongming laughed.

He guessed rightly: Li Sanjian was indeed considering it—not brewing, for that's no simple matter. Without proper tools and skilled craftsmen, how could one produce fine wine? Besides, Li Sanjian knew nothing about the craft.

Li Sanjian's funds were dwindling; three mouths to feed every day—especially Shan Kui, whose appetite could shake the earth. At this rate, they would soon exhaust their resources.

Thus, Li Sanjian planned to start a small sideline, perhaps setting up a little stall in his rented hut or at the academy gates to supplement his income.

The academy provided some allowance, but for Li Sanjian it was barely enough to scrape by.

"Brother Donglin, you jest. I am dull-witted," Li Sanjian replied. "How could I know the art of brewing? You all know my family is destitute, and at present, I must support three people, including myself. Therefore, I plan to start a small business, selling wine for a bit of extra income. It seems a good idea."

His companions stared, dumbfounded, as though he were a creature from another world.

"Don't you know the imperial regulations on wine monopoly?" Sima Du asked.

Indeed, a rustic fellow, ignorant of the laws, Sima Du thought, shaking his head inwardly.

Though he looked down on Li Sanjian, he showed no outward sign of it.

Li Sanjian shook his head, confused. He knew the academy taught the imperial codes, but he had not yet studied them.

"Please enlighten me," Li Sanjian asked.

"It's too complicated," Zeng Gongming said, shaking his head. "Simply put, the government monopolizes wine. We commoners are forbidden to brew or sell it. If you do so privately, you risk confiscation, exile, or even execution."

"Private brewing is punished," Sima Du nodded. "In the city, twenty catties; in the countryside, thirty; public execution. If someone brings private wine within fifty li of the capital or twenty li of the provincial cities, five dou is punishable by death. Outside these boundaries, if private wine enters a place with an official wine shop, one shi results in public execution..."

Li Sanjian was startled, silently thanking his luck that he hadn't acted on his plans—otherwise, he wouldn't even know how he died.

"Then where do these wines come from?" he asked, pointing to the tavern nearby.

"From the government wine warehouses," Zeng Gongming answered.

"Commoners who sell wine face exploitation by authorities, wine shops, and breweries," Wang Ziying added. "And most of it is undrinkable swill. Lychee Spirits, such fine wine, is not something ordinary folk can obtain."

Wine shops not only sell wine but often have their own breweries, using government yeast or purchasing licenses, producing and selling under one roof. Only the wealthy and influential—official wine managers, government warehouses, and large households—can operate them. So, even if you have money, ordinary people can't open a wine shop.

"Drink, drink!" Ran Yunbiao raised his cup. "Let them sell, we shall drink!"

Li Sanjian shot Ran Yunbiao a glance and finished his cup in one gulp, feeling frustrated.

Easy for him, with his prosperous family, Li Sanjian thought. For himself, this path was now blocked.

Business, it seemed, was indeed strewn with thorns. Li Sanjian was secretly relieved; had he pursued wealth in this manner, he might have lost everything—or even his life.

"How long will the bright moon last? I raise my cup and ask the sky."

"I urge you to finish another cup, for west of Yang Pass, there are no friends."

"Only in drunken feasts can one circle the clouds; wait to taste the sour plum that rises to the heavens. When climbing to see the moon's soul, one must raise another cup to the azure sky."

"Wonderful! Brother Hanren, where is this poem from?" Zeng Gongming and the others pondered but could not place the verses Li Sanjian recited.

"It is my own humble work," Li Sanjian replied, bowing with a smile.

"Magnificent, truly magnificent," Zeng Gongming praised. "Brother Hanren's literary talent is remarkable—I am not your equal!"

"You flatter me, Brother Donglin!" Li Sanjian answered modestly.

With the secrets of Song poetry in hand, composing poems and verses was effortless for Li Sanjian. Though he spoke humbly, inwardly he was quite pleased.

"Brother Hanren, not only is your literary talent outstanding, but your punctuation method is extraordinary," Ran Yunbiao added.

At this time, Huang Huan had already printed Li Sanjian's punctuation method in a booklet and distributed it to all academy students. Once learned, reading became much easier and memorization more effective. For this alone, the students admired Li Sanjian.

A trivial skill, Sima Du thought to himself, unimpressed. What use is poetry? True merit lies in understanding the classics deeply and writing essays well.

Currently, the imperial examinations no longer select candidates based on poetry but on the interpretation of the classics...

"Bring more wine! Today we shall not leave until we are drunk!"

The four young men, half-grown boys, recited and sang in celebration, quickly emptying a jar of Lychee Spirits. Ran Yunbiao, still not satisfied, ordered a servant for more.

"Gentlemen, I truly cannot hold my liquor. I must take my leave!" Sima Du rose to depart.

Ran Yunbiao frowned, about to object, but Zeng Gongming quietly pulled him back.

Ran Yunbiao snorted and drank another mouthful.

"Pretentious, as if that's something to be proud of," he muttered, watching Sima Du's retreating figure.

Well said, Li Sanjian silently agreed, for he too saw Sima Du as somewhat self-important. Was entering the provincial academy such a great achievement?

Yet, though he applauded inwardly, Li Sanjian outwardly advised, "Brother Mingshi, pay it no mind. Feiyuan cannot drink, so why force him? Today, it's enough for us three to enjoy ourselves."

"Well spoken, Brother Hanren," Zeng Gongming agreed. "He is from a scholarly family—how could he look upon us common folk? Let him be. Come, Brother Hanren, Brother Mingshi, let me toast you both."

"Very well..." Ran Yunbiao, youthful in spirit, was persuaded by their words and called out, "Innkeeper, more wine!"

"Coming, coming!" At that moment, several men carrying jars of Lychee Spirits approached.

Their attire struck Li Sanjian as odd, somewhat resembling military uniforms, which puzzled him.

"Brother Hanren, does something seem strange to you?" Zeng Gongming asked, noticing Li Sanjian's expression.

Li Sanjian nodded.

"Let me tell you, they truly are soldiers," Zeng Gongming laughed.

"What?" Li Sanjian exclaimed, astonished.