Chapter Eight: Fine Wine Worth a Hundred Gold

“Excellent wine, truly excellent!” The praises echoed endlessly.

While everyone was still savoring the exquisite taste, they found their cups already emptied, yet the lingering flavor of the wine danced upon their tongues, making their hearts itch with desire, restless and yearning.

“Master Cai, this wine isn’t enough! Just a single sip, and it’s gone. You’re being far too stingy,” Cao Cao complained, still relishing the lingering aroma of the wine, his expression full of dissatisfaction.

“Yes, yes, Master Cai, how could you be so miserly?” The others chimed in, voicing their agreement.

Cai Yong felt a surge of joy in his heart, seeing his purpose achieved, but he put on a troubled face, saying, “It isn’t that I’m stingy, but the stock of this wine is truly limited. I have but five jars left.”

“Then bring them out and share with everyone!” The crowd began to clamor.

Liu Yao watched the scene, the corner of his mouth tugging into a sly, victorious smile, and he shot Cai Yong a meaningful glance.

Cai Yong received the signal and sighed helplessly, “Why must I do such things?”

He pressed his hands down, quieting the crowd’s commotion. “Gentlemen, these wines were prepared by an old friend to be sold, so…” Cai Yong trailed off, embarrassed.

“Hahaha, Master Cai, that’s hardly a problem. I’ll pay five gold coins for all of them!” Cao Cao, ever fond of good wine, spoke up eagerly.

At that moment, a sarcastic voice rang out, “Hmph! Cao Mengde, aren’t you generous. I’ll pay ten gold coins!” It was none other than Yuan Shu, the notorious fool. Yuan Shu’s relationship with Cao Cao was far from amiable, and he was eager to disrupt.

“You!” Cao Cao’s face darkened, though his complexion was naturally dusky and few could notice. Still, he did not bother to quarrel with Yuan Shu.

“Hmph.” Yuan Shu, seeing Cao Cao’s reticence, curled his lip in disdain, refusing to even look at him directly.

“I’ll pay ten gold coins, but only for one jar.” Another voice joined, belonging to Yuan Shao, Yuan Benchu.

“You! Yuan Benchu, you’re merely a son by a concubine. What right do you have to compete with me?” Yuan Shu had always looked down on Yuan Shao, and now, seeing Yuan Shao dare to challenge him, he was furious.

“Hmph, Gonglu, don’t shame our Yuan family. If you have no money, then stop talking.” Yuan Shao, for his part, held his foolish younger brother in contempt, always harping on the difference between legitimate and illegitimate birth.

“You’re the one without money, Yuan Benchu! Today, I’ll pay twenty gold coins per jar. Let’s see who truly has no money!” Yuan Shu erupted in anger, clearly intent on fighting to the bitter end.

“Ah, what a magnificent fool Yuan Shu is, and what an excellent Yuan Shao! I must thank you both—you truly are my wealth-bringing boys!” Liu Yao, witnessing Yuan Shu’s antics, was elated.

For the rest of the time, the two Yuan brothers continued their fierce bidding against each other, while the others enjoyed the spectacle of the “family” tearing at one another. In the end, thanks to their rivalry, the first jar of wine was sold for two hundred gold coins. Yuan Shu, triumphant in securing the wine, strutted about with his nose in the air, convinced that outdoing Yuan Shao was victory enough.

Because Yuan Shu had set such a high price for the first jar, the remaining four jars, though not quite as expensive, each sold for over a hundred gold coins, claimed respectively by Yuan Shao, Cao Cao, Zhang Miao, and Yuan Shu himself.

With two jars in hand, Yuan Shu was positively floating, looking down at Yuan Shao from on high, while Yuan Shao’s face darkened, simmering with rage.

The poetry gathering soon drew to a close. Everyone departed for their own estates, most in high spirits—except for Yuan Shao, whose mood was soured. Yet none could forget the taste of that superb wine, a lingering regret in their hearts.

“Hahaha, Yao’er, I never imagined you’d have such talent for business! To earn so much, seven hundred gold coins, from just five jars of Cloudfire!” Cai Yong laughed heartily.

“Hehe, Teacher, do you know what the cost of a single jar actually is?” Liu Yao grinned mischievously.

“Well, I truly do not,” Cai Yong replied, surprised; he had never concerned himself with such matters.

Liu Yao raised a finger, “One hundred coins. The cost for a jar doesn’t exceed a hundred coins.”

“A hundred coins?!” Cai Yong was utterly stunned. He’d assumed such exceptional wine would cost at least one gold coin—that alone would be a hundredfold profit. But this was not a hundred times, but ten thousand times! (One gold coin equals ten thousand coins.)

“Hehe, Teacher, we must brew more Cloudfire as soon as possible. Those young nobles are flush with wealth, and now that our wine has stirred their appetites, the money will come pouring in!” Liu Yao looked every bit the money-grubber.

“You! How is your mind so full of tricks and schemes?” Cai Yong laughed, his face full of pride.

“Hehe.” The hall was left echoing with the laughter of two foxes, one large, one small.

Thanks to Liu Yao’s deliberate publicity, news spread across Luoyang within half a day.

At the city gate, two soldiers on duty whispered to each other, “Hey, did you hear? There’s a new wine in Luoyang—one jar sells for two hundred gold coins!”

“What! How do you know?” The second soldier asked in surprise.

“How could I not know? Let me tell you—my uncle’s neighbor’s daughter’s husband works in the Yuan estate, and that’s who told me. Young Master Yuan Shu bought it himself!” The first soldier was full of pride.

“Is that true? Two hundred gold coins… If I had that, I wouldn’t be standing here every day. I’d go home, marry a wife, and live a good life,” the second soldier sighed, his face full of longing.

“Dream on! You’d better wake up,” the first soldier replied, dashing his hopes without hesitation.

“All right, enough talk—the officer is coming,” the second soldier whispered.

Time flew by, and fifteen days passed swiftly. Another piece of news soon spread: at Luoyang’s East Gate, a new tavern called Firecloud Residence had opened. But the real draw was that Firecloud Residence sold the legendary Cloudfire wine.

Upon hearing this, scholars and the sons of noble families all hurried to inquire and flocked to the tavern.

In front of Firecloud Residence stood a man in his thirties, plain in appearance, watching the crowd gathered before the door.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am Zhang Fang, the proprietor of Firecloud Residence. Today marks our grand opening, and we offer Cloudfire wine—the very same that appeared at Master Cai’s poetry gathering. Our establishment offers three grades: superior, medium, and inferior. The prices are one gold coin, one thousand coins, and five hundred coins per jar, respectively.” Zhang Fang was Cai Yong’s steward and Liu Yao’s commercial manager. As for the three grades, they were designed to suit every customer; the medium and inferior wines were diluted.

The crowd was taken aback by the prices—not because they were too high, but because they were unexpectedly affordable. The rumor had been that each jar cost a hundred gold coins.

Then Zhang Fang announced another surprise, “Today, for our opening, every guest will receive a complimentary jug of superior Cloudfire wine!”

The crowd erupted in excitement, praising the proprietor’s generosity.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our tavern is officially open!”

With Zhang Fang’s declaration, everyone rushed inside, and the tavern was instantly bustling.

Before long, the stock was completely sold out, prompting loud complaints from those who missed out. Zhang Fang, caught off guard by the brisk business, hurried to fetch another batch of Cloudfire, quieting the crowd.

By nightfall, the tally was in: a thousand jars of superior wine had been sold, even more of the others, with total revenue exceeding two thousand gold coins. Liu Yao was so delighted he could scarcely keep his mouth closed.