Chapter 24: Perfume

Little Dengzi carefully supported Zhao Su as they emerged from the “Three-Day Intoxication” tavern, his awe for the crown prince reaching unfathomable depths. Whenever he recalled the prince’s bold and heroic bearing just moments before, he could not help but tremble all over. This was the legendary Three-Day Intoxication—apart from Commander Yang the Invincible, no one had ever finished a single jar.

Yet today, the crown prince had done it. Moreover, his capacity far exceeded that of Commander Yang: not only could he walk unaided, but his mind remained perfectly clear. Little Dengzi could already imagine that, in no more than a couple of days, this feat would be the talk of the capital.

They had not gone far before Zhao Su shrugged off Little Dengzi, his demeanor spirited and entirely sober.

“Your Highness, you… you’re not drunk?” Little Dengzi, seeing Zhao Su so utterly transformed from before, could not help but ask.

With hands clasped behind his back, Zhao Su sneered, “This wine? I could drink three jars. A mere single jar—there’s no way it could bring me down.”

Little Dengzi was utterly astonished, never having imagined such fortitude from the crown prince. To drink three jars of Three-Day Intoxication—surely, he was the undisputed champion of Great Qin.

How could he have known that, in his previous life, the crown prince’s drinks were fierce spirits with an alcohol content of fifty or sixty percent? Even that fiery white liquor, Zhao Su could consume nearly a kilogram. Now, with this wine no stronger than grape wine, how could he ever be drunk?

“Come, let’s return. I wish to brew a true spirit—a liquor so strong that a single cup would leave a man insensible.” Zhao Su, finding no spirit to his liking, decided he would have to distill one himself.

“Ah, Your Highness, you know how to brew?” Little Dengzi was dumbfounded. The prince had only recovered from his addled state two days prior, yet everything he did now defied all his expectations.

Zhao Su smiled, “I may not know how to brew, but I do know how to distill. When I produce spirits at over seventy percent, the whole capital will be astounded.”

Fortunately, his fondness for all sorts of documentaries in his past life had taught him the principles of distillation. As he pondered how to construct a simple distillation apparatus, he found himself, almost unwittingly, back at the Eastern Palace.

Unbeknownst to him, as he entered the palace, a guard who had been tailing them showed a look of shock, before hastily running back toward the Three-Day Intoxication tavern.

“You say he entered the palace?” Dan Xiongying was shocked.

The guard nodded earnestly. “Yes, sir, I saw him enter the palace with my own eyes.”

Dan Xiongying waved him away and then said, “It seems he must be a prince within the palace. Brother Yang, you are well acquainted with the capital—do you know which prince it could be?”

Dan Xiongying was a frontier commander, returning to the capital only twice a year. Of the emperor’s sons, he knew only a couple by sight. He had returned this time on urgent business, and it was Yang the Invincible who had brought him out for drinks.

“I know all the princes of this age, but I have never seen this one,” Yang the Invincible replied, shaking his head in puzzlement. He, too, was curious about the man’s identity.

“That seems impossible. Are there any other men who could enter the palace so freely?” Dan Xiongying wondered aloud.

Yang the Invincible fell into silent thought. Suddenly, recalling the events of court the previous day, he exclaimed, “Could it be him?”

“Who?” Dan Xiongying asked, startled, fixing Yang with a stare.

“But it shouldn’t be. Even if his wits have returned, how could his drinking be so formidable? It can’t be him.” He muttered to himself. Yang recalled how, at a past banquet, the youth had collapsed into a drunken stupor after a single cup. He shook his head, dismissing the notion.

In the Eastern Palace, the noble crown prince had once again gathered a group of masons to build a stove.

When Liu Rushi saw this upon waking, she gaped in astonishment. It seemed that the prince was even more unruly after his recovery than before.

“Your Highness, please slow down, don’t tire yourself.”

“Your Highness, would you like some water?”

Jinxiu stood at his side, sometimes pouring water for Zhao Su, sometimes wiping his brow with a towel, as attentive as a devoted wife. The craftsmen looked on enviously, thinking to themselves that their own wives were nothing like this—so caring and considerate.

“Little Dengzi, what is the crown prince doing?” Liu Rushi watched for a while before beckoning him over to ask.

“Reporting to Your Ladyship,” Little Dengzi replied, bowing, “His Highness is brewing wine.”

“Brewing wine?” Liu Rushi’s brows knotted in disbelief.

The noble crown prince of Great Qin, playing with mud alongside a band of masons? If that were not enough, he claimed he was brewing wine—what a preposterous notion. Had his madness truly been cured? She could not help but suspect it had only worsened.

Finding it more and more absurd, she soon led her maids away in a graceful procession, returning to her chambers. After last night’s ordeal at Zhao Su’s hands, her body still ached; she needed to drink some ginseng soup and recover.

In the residence of Prince Ming, a eunuch slipped inside with a furtive air.

The sixth prince, Zhao Heng, was surprised: “Playing with mud? Brewing wine? Are you sure you weren’t mistaken?”

The young eunuch answered firmly, “I saw it with my own eyes, and the whole Eastern Palace knows. With Lady Liu’s permission, I have come to report this.”

“Very well, go collect your reward. Serve me well, and I will see you are taken care of,” the sixth prince said, waving him away.

“Thank you, Your Highness! I would go through fire and water for you without a second thought,” the eunuch replied joyfully, kneeling to pledge his loyalty.

The attendant led the eunuch away to collect his reward, reminding him as they walked to report regularly from now on.

After two hours of toil, the stoves for distilling white spirits were finally completed.

At a glance, the two stoves looked much the same; the only difference was between the pots. One was a simple copper cauldron, but the other—used for distillation—was covered with a long copper pipe.

At Zhao Su’s command, fires were lit under both stoves.

He poured crushed rose petals and their juice into the first cauldron, and several jars of wine into the second, then covered them and set the fires blazing.

The onlookers were baffled. Wine should be gently warmed, not boiled in a cauldron; this was the first time they had seen such a method.

After a short while, droplets began to fall from the copper pipe. Zhao Su dabbed one with his finger and tasted it, only to cough violently at the fiery burn.

“At least eighty percent alcohol—perfect for blending perfumes,” Zhao Su exclaimed in excitement.

The first step to making money was complete.

He mixed the rose extract and alcohol in different proportions, trying again and again.

The first attempt: failure.

The second attempt… the one hundred and third attempt… still failure.

Through the entire night, Zhao Su kept adjusting the ratios and blending the ingredients. He had not yet produced a perfume, but to his surprise, he did manage to create a rich, aromatic white spirit.

As the sun began to set, while Jinxiu and Little Dengzi were worrying over him, laughter burst from Zhao Su’s room: “I did it! I’ve done it! I have finally made perfume!”