Chapter 140: Ancestor Lü's Dream of the Millet Sobering Up

Ye Chang loved a good joke.

This was the immediate impression of everyone present after their initial exclamation.

Ye Chang had clearly written the character in his right palm, yet he had deliberately flashed his left hand to mislead the crowd. Had it not been for Cao Shaokui, who knows how many people would have been fooled by him.

Those who love a good joke are always popular, so after a brief moment of awkwardness, everyone burst into laughter again: "Today we must make Ye the Eleventh drink a few extra cups! To think he actually played us right in the palm of his hand—if we don't get him dead drunk, we won't be able to vent our frustration!"

"Amitabha Buddha, there is no wine in this temple." Shanhui was driven half-mad by the noise, and hearing that they wanted to drink, he quickly spoke up.

"We never planned to eat at your place anyway. Although the vegetarian banquet at your Great Fuxian Temple is famous, it doesn't suit our tastes."

"Exactly, exactly! Ye the Eleventh, come with us to the North Market and let Ye the Eleventh taste our Luoyang flavors."

"Call for some entertainers as well! With Ye the Eleventh present, how can there be no song and dance?"

People chattered all at once, and before Ye Chang could object, they swarmed him out of the Great Fuxian Temple. Even Cao Shaokui was grabbed by the arms and pushed by the back, practically half-carried out the door.

"Master Shanhui! Master Shanhui! You must save that table of vegetarian dishes for me!" Unable to break free, Cao Shaokui could only look back and shout.

Shanhui put his palms together, just about to say something, when suddenly another thought struck him: "Wait... we haven't tested whether that bronze chime is truly silent yet..."

His voice was drowned out by the distant bell. Shanhui stood there in a daze; this was the sound for midday, and usually at this time, the moment the bell rang, the chime in the Buddha hall would inevitably ring as well. But this time, the chime was indeed quiet.

Taking courage, he walked back into the Buddha hall and saw the chime hanging obediently on the wall.

The bell rang again, yet the bronze chime remained utterly silent.

"It's gone... It's gone... It's truly gone!" Shanhui clapped his hands and laughed, running out the door.

The old monk's unseemly behavior fell into the eyes of the two young ladies atop the sarira pagoda. The two women exchanged glances, their expressions filled with both excitement and astonishment.

Had this evil specter truly been dealt with?

"That Cao Shaokui used to be the Director of the Directorate of Music. Perhaps... we could go and invite him?"

"Not now. He went off with those frivolous youths; I'm afraid he won't be around today at all." The lady with the surname Li muttered, then added: "Let's wait here for now. Don't rush, don't rush."

Just as they were about to go downstairs, they saw two short monks walking stealthily back into the Buddha hall. The movements of these two monks were somewhat furtive, making them look rather like thieves. Both women frowned. With no one else in the Buddha hall right now, could these two monks be going in to steal something?

These two monks were none other than Puzhao and Rongrui. Arriving at the Buddha hall, the two of them gazed at the bronze chime on the wall and bowed deeply in unison.

"There must be a spirit dwelling within this bronze chime, only now the divine spirit has been subdued," Puzhao murmured.

Although the two of them had shaved their heads and become monks, coming from Japan, they were naturally deeply influenced by the Shinto belief that all things possess a spirit. This bronze chime had long been an object of their attention; they had originally intended to beg Shanhui to give it to them, but now they no longer wanted it.

"Amitabha Buddha, the Great Tang truly produces extraordinary people. That Director Cao actually subdued the chime spirit effortlessly. As the saying goes, 'The great hermit hides in the court, the lesser hermit in the marketplace.' Director Cao once served as an official in the imperial court; he is truly a man of the mold of a great hidden sage. Tut-tut, any ordinary person in the Great Tang is like this..."

"I only regret that the two of us arrived too late and never got to meet Master Yixing. I hear Master Yixing is also a person of this caliber..."

The two Japanese monks muttered to themselves, though they had enough self-awareness not to entertain the thought of dragging Cao Shaokui back to the island nation of Japan.

"However, Senior Brother, I still feel that Young Master Ye is even more formidable. Look, if not for him, who could have possibly known that Director Cao possessed such skill?"

"Yes, yes. Given the chance, we must pay him another visit. We were far too impolite last night. With a person of his stature, we should not have been secretive; whatever the matter, we ought to have confessed our intentions candidly and then begged earnestly."

After discussing this for a while, the two of them left the Buddha hall.

This scene, witnessed by the two young ladies Li and Cai, added no small amount of suspicion to their minds, which need not be elaborated upon further. Suffice it to say that Ye Chang and his companions were escorted to the North Market—having merely walked from Jide Ward onto East Gate Cross Street, passed through Demao Ward and Lixing Ward, they reached their destination. Moreover, Luoyang's wards were somewhat smaller than Chang'an's, so the entire journey took only about the time it takes for two incense sticks to burn.

Just as Chang'an possessed the West Market and the East Market, Luoyang too boasted bustling commercial wards and markets. Originally, the South Market was the most prosperous, occupying two wards, while this North Market paled somewhat in comparison, yet it remained remarkably thriving. The Peony Tower in the North Market had been built by a Persian during the reign of Empress Wu Zetian, the Divine Dragon Emperor, and possessed a history of fifty or sixty years, always remaining a renowned large tavern in Luoyang's North Market.

At this moment, it was the busiest hour for the tavern, yet a lively scene of dozens of people swarming in all at once was still a rare sight. On the upper floor of the tavern, a man looked down, lowering his eyes, before pulling his head back: "Such a commotion... Could it actually be time for a polo match?"

This man appeared to be in his early twenties, dressed with an overwhelming aura of nobility. He possessed delicate and handsome features, with a hint of peach blossom in his eyes, marking him at a glance as a man of romantic flair. Following closely behind him were six maidservants, every single one exceptionally beautiful, with naturally alluring expressions, clearly already initiated into the ways of the world.

In his hand was a jade fan, a fine piece crafted by Master Tan; this jade fan alone was worth a hundred strings of coins. The Right Army fan from the Tan family had now swept the realm, increasing the Tan family's wealth by no less than ten thousand strings of coins over the past year. Coupled with the fact that Ye Chang required bamboo for papermaking, the Tan family and Wolong Valley were tightly bound together economically.

His headwrap was adorned with bright pearls, the brocade of his garments was the finest Shu silk, and at his waist hung a jade ring. With just a slight nod of his head, someone hurried downstairs and headed toward the crowd.

Before long, the man returned: "Reporting to the Young Prince, it is a group of wealthy and noble youths from Luoyang city, hosting a banquet for the former Director of the Directorate of Music, Cao Shaokui, and Ye Chang of Xiuwu."

"Ye Chang? Ye the Eleventh? I've heard he's quite a fascinating fellow. A person like that is worth cultivating." The young nobleman thought for a moment: "However, since he is currently surrounded by vulgar and turbid creatures, let us wait a while."

In his tone, there was a fair amount of disdain for these Luoyang noble youths buzzing around Ye Chang like flies. And it was hardly surprising; those people were noble youths in name only, but in reality, merely profligate scions. In his eyes, those who relied on the residual shade of their fathers and grandfathers could hardly be considered heroes.

At this moment, Ye Chang was being badgered by the crowd, who demanded to know how he had figured out that Cao Shaokui could solve the mystery of the bronze chime ringing on its own.

Ye Chang certainly couldn't tell them that he had learned this from reading Liu Yuxi's notes, but the crowd was pressing hard, and the ringleader was Cao Shaokui himself. With no other choice, Ye Chang could only push the matter off onto a dream: "I once had a dream where I was served pills of immortality by an immortal's attendant, and I came to know of this matter in the dream."

This explanation remained vague and left the crowd thoroughly dissatisfied, prompting them to forcefully impose a penalty of drinking. Ye Chang downed a cup, then shook his head: "This wine is far too light, far too light; it truly has no flavor to speak of."

"Bring out the Three-Leached Brew! Quickly bring out the Three-Leached Brew! Today we must make Ye the Eleventh drink to his heart's content!" someone shouted.

The Three-Leached Brew was a notoriously potent liquor, yet Ye Chang downed another bowl, then shook his head: "Still too light. Can it be that Luoyang has no better, stronger liquor?"

Seeing him toss back this famous fiery brew without changing his expression and repeatedly calling it light, the onlookers could not help clicking their tongues in astonishment. In truth, Ye Chang was employing a clever trick, using a tiny cup; if he had drunk by the dou, the way men of this era did, even the mildest wine would have floaked anyone.

"Who says Luoyang has no good wine? Someone, bring this gentleman a jar of Mare's Milk Peach-Blossom Spring!"

It was the owner of the Peony Tower—a Persian with a high bridge of the nose and deep-set eyes—who had come to attend to the guests. Hearing Ye Chang's critique, he stepped forward, unconvinced.

"Is this the Mare's Milk Peach-Blossom Spring personally brewed by Emperor Taizong?" someone knowledgeable exclaimed in shock.

During the reign of Emperor Li Shimin, after defeating Gaochang, he acquired mare's grapes and planted them in the imperial gardens. When they matured, they were harvested to brew wine, and historical records described the resulting liquor as "fragrant and fiercely potent, with a flavor combining that of sweet cream and ambrosia." Hearing the knowledgeable person's assessment, the Persian proudly declared, "Precisely this wine!"

The onlookers could not help clicking their tongues. This was imperial tribute wine from the palace; how could it possibly be bought in the markets?

"My father and grandfather were naturally fond of wine. Ever since they learned that the palace possessed this Mare's Milk Peach-Blossom Spring, they searched for it by every possible means, yet only managed to be bestowed a single jar by the Empress," the Persian foreigner said with pride. "Hearing my father and grandfather speak of this, I often regretted being born too late and missing that era. But reflecting upon it, since Emperor Taizong's brewing method was acquired from the state of Gaochang, surely Gaochang still retains the craft. It took me six years and cost me a million coins before I finally obtained this wine recipe and brewed this wine. I rarely let just anyone taste it, but today, since this gentleman looks down upon Luoyang's wine world, I have brought it out—this gentleman, is this worthy of your drinking?"

Ye Chang took another small cup, drained it in one gulp, and smacked his lips.

Compared to the previous kinds of wine, it was indeed stronger, but it was probably only around thirty degrees proof. For Ye Chang, it truly didn't amount to much.

"The wine is good wine, but it's still not good enough," Ye Chang shook his head. "Still not potent enough."

"For the gentleman to so casually belittle our fine Luoyang wine, could it be that you have tasted something even better?" The Persian foreigner looked Ye Chang up and down, a look of disdain crossing his face. "Or are you merely putting on a bold front to deceive the likes of us?"

"Nonsense! What kind of person is Ye the Eleventh? Since he says there is better wine, there certainly is!" someone shouted angrily.

Ye Chang smiled and beckoned: "Wuguli!"

"Coming!"

The Kunlun slave Wuguli leaped forward instantly. He had a bundle strapped to his back, and at Ye Chang's signal, he placed the bundle on the table and unwrapped it to reveal a ceramic jar.

The mouth of the jar was plugged with a wooden stopper, yet despite this, everyone could faintly catch a wisp of delicate wine fragrance.

"I once heard a story." Ye Chang did not rush to open the wine, looking around at the crowd: "It is also related to that dream of mine from before."

The Persian foreigner had no idea what dream he was referring to, but the wealthy Luoyang youths who had accompanied Ye Chang knew full well that Ye Chang was speaking of his dream of meeting immortals.

"It is said that in the seventh year of Kaiyuan, there was a scholar named Lu who repeatedly failed the imperial examinations. On the road to Handan, he met a Taoist priest who called himself Lü and urged him to drink wine. After draining three cups, just as the innkeeper was cooking a pot of millet, the scholar fell into a dream..."

The slightly adapted story of "The World Inside a Pillow" flowed smoothly from Ye Chang's lips. Initially, there had still been some commotion in the surroundings, but soon it fell into a dead silence as everyone listened with rapt attention.

Ye Chang was already a gifted speaker, and this story was one he had pondered for a long time and polished with the help of Lady Fang, making it genuinely enthralling. By the time the dream ended and reality resumed, everyone could not help drawing in breaths of astonishment, and for a moment, sighs of lingering emotion echoed endlessly.

On the upper floor of the tavern, the nobleman-like figure was deeply moved, striking his palm against his railing and sighing heavily.

Outside the tavern, the two Japanese monks stared at each other in utter dismay.

After a long while, when the crowd finally snapped out of this dream of a floating life, Ye Chang struck the table: "I once beheld an immortal in a dream, who bestowed upon me this wine recipe. Through careful and repeated trials, I finally obtained this single bottle. You gentlemen are all the finest talents of Luoyang; you may judge and critique it."

With that, he yanked the soft wooden stopper from the wine bottle. With this action, a few drops of liquor spilled out, and instantly fragrance filled the air, a delightful, intoxicating aroma of wine that completely overwhelmed the original scent of the Peony Tower!

This was no ordinary wine; it was a fiery liquor of over sixty degrees proof, distilled from sweet dew wine with the addition of fragrant grains. The moment the bottle stopper was pulled, those with a low tolerance merely caught a whiff before feeling dizzy and lightheaded, crying out "Oh!" as they slumped backward into their seats.

This was an unexpected mishap, but coupled with Ye Chang's earlier story, the surrounding crowd was struck with terror and awe.

"Lord Cao is a man of great virtue, please partake first—this wine is an immortal's fine brew, difficult for mortal bodies to bear, and thus cannot be consumed in large quantities." As Ye Chang spoke, he poured a small cup for Cao Shaokui.

Catching the intense aroma of the wine and seeing how solemn Ye Chang's expression was, Cao Shaokui took a cautious sip. The moment the liquor touched his lips, he knew something was amiss; when it reached his tongue, his tongue went practically numb, and as it slid down to his throat, it felt as though a fiery dragon were twisting and turning within his throat. Cao Shaokui likewise let out an "Oh!", smacked his lips, and his eyes lit up instantly.

"How is it?"

"Fine wine! Fine wine!"

Aside from these two words, Cao Shaokui had no idea how to evaluate this wine.

It was enough. The expression on his face, coupled with the events just moments ago, was enough to make everyone around him eagerly raise their cups, dumping out their original wine and thrusting them toward Ye Chang: "Give it to me! Give it to me!"

Ye Chang poured for them one by one. The ceramic jar was not large, and before long, there was scarcely anything left inside. Seeing this, the Persian foreigner grew frantic; rushing forward to grab a cup, he said to Ye Chang, "Lord Ye's fine wine—please grant some to me as well, so that I may be convinced in both mouth and heart!"

Ye Chang smiled and poured a small amount for him as well, then raised his own cup: "Bottoms up!"

"Bottoms up!"

All around arose such cries. Everyone raised their cups and drank; the impatient ones gulped it down in one go, while the cautious ones took tiny sips, followed immediately by either violent coughing fits or the smacking of lips in wonder.

"Such fiery wine..."

Accompanied by this sound, two people overwhelmed by the alcoholic strength slumped to the floor, unable to stand back up.

"I must leave those friends who have drunk too much in the care of the tavern keeper." Ye Chang cupped his hands in salute toward the Persian foreigner.

The Persian foreigner stood there holding his cup, utterly lost in a daze. He had replicated the Mare's Milk Peach-Blossom Spring not merely to satisfy his own palate, but more importantly to use such potent liquor to attract business. Yet after tasting the wine brought by Ye Chang, he knew that his own wine was practically worthless compared to the other's!

"This... what kind of wine is this? Has Lord Ye given it a name?"

"I have. The name comes from the legend I just told: it is called 'Drifting Through a Pillow's Dream'."

"A marvelous name... 'Drifting Through a Pillow's Dream'." The Persian merchant rolled his eyes, then said with heroic generosity: "Lord Ye can rest assured; these are all distinguished guests of my humble establishment, and my shop will naturally take good care of them!"