Chapter Nine: Let the Fragrance of Wine Linger for a While

On this day, as the morning light slowly crept over the city, those who rose early for work began to fill the streets. Vendors setting up their stalls hunched their shoulders against the chill, hoping to be greeted by a rush of customers. The hour was still early, and spring’s lingering cold played tricks on those unlucky enough to be awake, as if their precarious lives—fraught with hardship—were echoed by the biting air that seeped into every corner.

As the crowd moved through the bustling thoroughfare lined with breakfast shops, a tantalizing aroma wafted from afar, overpowering the mingled scents of all the other stalls. “Hmm, what is that smell?” An old farmer, hoe slung over his shoulder, flared his nostrils to sniff, and the seductive fragrance invaded his senses, sending a shiver through him and compelling his body to follow its source.

“Old Gu, you damned drunkard! Haven’t had a drop yet this morning and you’re already drunk?” the oil cake vendor shouted, half-joking. Old Gu, his back hunched and chest collapsed, wore a look of utter bliss, as if still drunk from last night, now staggering around in a drunken daze.

As his wavering figure appeared at the mouth of a narrow alley, a man’s excited voice called from the other end, “Here you are, finally a real live customer!” The speaker was Wu Qingshan, who hadn’t slept a wink all night. If Jiang Chen hadn’t told him that after today they’d finally make a fortune, he would’ve insisted on getting some rest. But dreams of wealth were stronger than fatigue, and he’d followed Jiang Chen, working tirelessly until now, finally able to catch his breath.

“Is this... a wine shop?” Old Gu squinted, barely making out a flag with bold red characters against a black background. Though he couldn’t see clearly, his keen nose detected the unmistakable scent of fine liquor—one he couldn’t wait to taste.

“Sir, how do you find the aroma of our wine? Isn’t it unique?” Jiang Chen asked with a smile. Old Gu nodded earnestly, “I’ve been drinking all my life, but never have I smelled such fragrance. Quick, pour me a bowl!”

Jiang Chen grinned, “Sir, just tell me which wine you think tastes best, and today’s bowl will be on the house.” Old Gu’s eyes sparkled, and without hesitation he replied, “That’s easy—the best is always Spring Double Cut from the Zhao family village. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.”

Spring Double Cut was the signature brew of Zhao He’s wine shop, famed far and wide, a reputation well deserved. Jiang Chen had expected this answer, but true to his word, he filled Old Gu’s bowl to the brim.

“Sir, you call Spring Double Cut the finest because you’ve only ever drunk that. I’ll wager that once you taste my wine, you’ll change your mind.” Old Gu chuckled and shook his head, “Young man, that’s bold talk! Have you tasted Spring Double Cut?”

“That wine is expensive. I only had it once, at a distant nephew’s wedding, and it left an unforgettable impression. I admit, the world is vast and I haven’t seen much, but around here, Spring Double Cut is the best!”

Wu Qingshan, standing by, looked displeased, “Hey old man, if you want our wine, you should say something nice about it. Don’t be so tactless!” Yet Jiang Chen was unfazed, handing the bowl to Old Gu, who greedily sniffed, then sipped slowly, letting the liquor glide over his tongue. He was clearly an expert, which was exactly why Jiang Chen valued his opinion.

As the wine slid down his throat, Old Gu’s face bloomed with a smile of pure happiness, as if a lifelong bachelor had finally married a beautiful bride. “This... this is truly nectar from heaven!” he exclaimed after savoring it.

Jiang Chen pressed, “Sir, how does my wine compare to Spring Double Cut?” Without pause, Old Gu declared, “Spring Double Cut is nothing—compared to your wine, it’s just horse piss!”

Jiang Chen and Wu Qingshan burst out laughing, not just at Old Gu’s colorful analogy, but also in relief—their weeks of hard work had finally paid off.

“Sir, all your wine today is on me, but I want you to spread the word—tell everyone that the best wine you’ve ever tasted is called River Moon White.”

The name River Moon White came from Jiang Chen and Wu Yue, joined together, unexpectedly melodious and poetic.

“River Moon White! What a fine name! Rest assured, the whole city will hear of it. If I say a wine is good, no one will doubt it.”

“Soon, all the gourmands will know about your River Moon White. You’ll be prosperous, making money every day!”

With Old Gu’s endorsement, Jiang Chen’s River Moon White took its first step toward fame. He was confident it would soon grace tables in every household. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten the two wastrels from the Lin family and Zhao He’s efforts to suppress him—revenge would come, and the day was not far off.

After Old Gu left, River Moon White’s unique, rich aroma continued to draw many others, each of whom got a free sample and, after tasting, unanimously praised it.

Wu Qingshan couldn’t help but ask, “Brother-in-law, since our wine is so good, why not sell it in the market, or put it in Lin Qingxuan’s Drunken Immortal Tavern? Wouldn’t that be better than hiding in this dark, narrow alley?”

Jiang Chen laughed, “Have you never heard, ‘Good wine fears not a deep alley’? Besides, we can’t let Zhao He uncover our secrets yet—this place is perfect.”

Indeed, his reasoning was sound; Jiang Chen always seemed to see further than others, earning Wu Qingshan’s admiration.

For three days, the two continued selling wine in the alley—or more accurately, gifting it, since not a single coin was collected from anyone.

This made Lin Qingxuan restless. One day, he came to ask Jiang Chen about it, his anxious demeanor betraying the pressure from his two cousins at home.

“Don’t worry. At times like this, patience is key. Let the aroma linger a while longer.”