Taihe Tower followed the classic layout of a front-shop and back-workshop. The front was the main establishment for selling wine, while the back courtyard housed the brewery, drying floors, wine cellars, and stoves.
The main shop and the back courtyard were separated by two gates, one to the east and one to the west. The east gate was larger, and its key was held by Master Wang himself; it was rarely opened without good reason.
The west gate was much smaller, only wide enough for a single handcart. The workers usually used this entrance for their daily coming and going, as well as for transporting wine and goods.
Guests were also typically led in through the west gate.
Strangely, two massive portraits of deities were pasted upon the west gate.
One was Shen Tu and the other was Yu Lei. Both were painted with red ink on yellow paper, the expressions of the divine generals depicted with startling clarity.
This gate didn't even face the street, so why paste divine portraits here?
Nan Zhi found it odd, but after a few glances, she shifted her gaze.
Passing through the carved gate and turning past two corridors, they reached the heart of the Wang Family Distillery—the place where the wine was actually made.
Work was in full swing. The fires in the kitchen rose ten feet high, with red tongues of flame licking the bottoms of the cauldrons.
Workers called out rhythmic chants in unison, their bare feet moving as they vigorously stirred the freshly steamed grains.
A portrait of the Kitchen God hung on the wall, with two red candles, a bowl of clear water, and two bowls of fruit offerings placed beneath it.
The painting had become mottled from the smoke, its surface pigment peeling away to reveal glimpses of the yellow clay wall underneath.
A dozen or so vats, each half the height of a man, stood in a row against the wall. Some workers had climbed inside to scrub them, not missing a single nook or cranny.
On the open ground to the right, hundreds of clean, black-polished wine jars sat with their mouths open, lazily soaking up the sun.
But the most eye-catching feature was a pitch-black wine vat standing tall in the very center of the courtyard, taller than a man and perfectly positioned.
Inside the kitchen, following the shouts of the workers, scalding steam surged up along the walls. If one stood too close, it felt as though a layer of skin might be scorched right off.
“Unloading the mash—! Unloading the mash—!”
“Unloading the mash!”
“Make way! Unloading the mash!”
A shirtless worker bellowed at the top of his lungs, thrusting his shovel with all his might. Scoop after scoop of steamed grain flew from the great cauldron, landing precisely on the open ground to form a small mountain.
At that moment, specific workers—bare-chested and barefoot—used specialized wooden plows to spread the scalding distillery mash thin.
The distillery was a scene of bustling heat and orderly chaos, the aroma of grain mingled with a sharp, sour tang.
The rising steam blurred the vision, allowing only glimpses of the men’s skin, which had turned a deep, bruised red from the heat.
The kitchen was hot enough to make one faint. Most of the workers were bare-chested, and some were even completely naked, save for a strip of hemp cloth tied around their waists.
Seeing Nan Zhi’s interest in the brewing process, Young Master Wang felt a surge of pride. He pointed toward the workers in the kitchen and said:
“Officer Nan might not know this, but in the art of brewing, unloading the mash is the most exhausting task. Even a strong young man who has eaten his fill will surely be unable to crawl out of bed the day after his first shift.”
“The workers in my Wang Family Distillery are each sturdier than the last, with the strength of oxen!”
Because of the nearly naked men, Ma Chunxiang turned her head away, pretending not to see as she spoke in low tones to the distillery manager behind her.
“What is the purpose of that vat standing there?”
Nan Zhi nodded, her gaze suddenly shifting to the prominent large vat.
The vat was massive, looking short and round, and sat directly facing the small west gate. Anyone entering would guaranteed see this vat first.
The walls of the vat were thick, and eight grand, flowing characters were carved upon it:
“Immortals descend to the mortal realm, the Emperor dismounts his horse.”
These were the very words others used to describe Immortal Brew. It was clear the Wang family had gone to great lengths to have this custom-made.
It was a stroke of luck that the Song dynasty did not have a literary inquisition; otherwise, based on those eight characters alone, every living soul in the Wang family would have been in grave trouble.
“That vat has quite a story behind it. Years ago, my father was merely a worker in a distillery when, by a stroke of luck, he encountered an immortal.”
“That immortal gave my father guidance, telling him to keep an empty wine vat in the place where he brewed. Every first and fifteenth of the month, he was to ladle water from this empty vat. Wine brewed this way would possess a unique fragrance and a flavor that can only be described as marvelous.”
Seeing Nan Zhi initiate conversation, Young Master Wang assumed the previous unpleasantness had passed. He introduced the vat with a smile:
“Later, my father did exactly as instructed. He found a craftsman to fire this great vat and told the master brewers that whenever they saw water in it, they must use it to make wine.”
“That immortal was truly efficacious. Every first and fifteenth, the vat would seep out about a palm’s depth of clear water.”
“At those times, the wine produced using that water would be the top-grade Immortal Brew.”
“Therefore, this vat is the mother of all vats. Our family calls it the mother vat. We guard it closely; ordinary people aren't even allowed to touch it!”
“Oh, a ‘mother vat,’ is it?”
Nan Zhi nodded meaningfully, then suddenly remarked:
“Didn't you say women aren't allowed in the distillery? This vat is also a ‘mother,’ so why don't you call it a ‘father vat’ or a ‘male vat’ instead?”
Young Master Wang: “...”
Distillery Manager: “...”
Ma Chunxiang: “...”
Are you ever going to let this go?
With all this sarcasm, had that matter really not been settled yet?!
...
After much ado, Nan Zhi finally got to drink the Wang family’s tea.
Drinking tea for a person of the Song dynasty was not as simple as boiling some water and throwing leaves into a cup.
First, the tea cake had to be ground into powder and placed in a tea bowl. A small amount of boiling water was poured in to moisten it, then a tea whisk was used to carefully beat it into a thick tea paste before the rest of the boiling water was added.
In wealthier households, they would even add peanuts, walnuts, sesame seeds, dried fruits, and the like to the bowl, whisking it into a thick gruel that would take half the day to consume.
This was why people often spoke of “eating tea” rather than just drinking it.
The Nan family didn't have the leisure for such refined tea whisking. They usually drank barley tea that Chen Jingui boiled in a large pot—cheap, refreshing, and delicious.
Thus, Nan Zhi watched Ma Chunxiang whisk the tea for a good while before lowering her head to take a sip, pretending to examine the surrounding decor.
My, this white porcelain vase is quite lovely.
Mm-hmm, the carving on this imperial consort couch is truly exquisite.
The craftsmanship of the grandmaster chairs seems decent as well.
She was waiting for Young Master Wang to speak first.
Sure enough, before the bowl of tea was finished, Young Master Wang spoke up:
“Officer Nan, I wonder if you noticed anything amiss just now?”
He gritted his teeth as if making a monumental decision and let out a heavy sigh.
“If it is absolutely necessary to take a trip into that wine cellar, it is not entirely impossible. It’s just that we cannot let word of this reach my father’s ears...”
A cough interrupted his words. Immediately after, Master Wang entered, supported by servants. He walked in tremulously and pointed right at Young Master Wang’s nose, scolding him:
“You accursed debt-collector! Have you drunk too much horse piss? Is your head filled with donkey hair? Cough, cough... You thought you could keep me in the dark... cough cough cough...”
“What ghosts and gods? This is clearly just someone who is jealous of our family’s business using some trick to harm us!”
“I told you not to bother Officer Nan, yet you refused to listen! Do you truly intend to anger me to death before you’re satisfied? Cough cough cough!”
When Nan Zhi saw Master Wang, she was first startled, then filled with disbelief.
This man was Master Wang?
How could he have changed so much?!
The old man’s hair and beard were entirely white. The flesh on his cheeks had sunken in until it seemed to cling directly to the bone. He had dark, bruised bags under his eyes, and his forehead seemed shrouded in a layer of black ash that could never be wiped away.
Nan Zhi understood instantly what it meant to have a blackened forehead.
It wasn't particularly cold yet, but Master Wang was wrapped in layer upon layer of clothing. His voice was weak and lacked vitality; even when he scolded his own son, there was no strength behind his words.
He was a completely different person from the plump, kindly old man Nan Zhi had met once before.
The question then was: what could a person possibly go through in such a short time to undergo such a drastic transformation?
Furthermore, what did he mean by those words just now?
Nan Zhi stared at Master Wang, her brow furrowing slightly.
Rate on N.U.
