Volume One, Chapter Four: As If Enchanted by Celestial Wine, She Scattered the White Clouds in Disarray

Immediately, all eyes in the hall turned to Cui Hao. After all, he was the reigning top scholar of the empire. His talent and learning naturally inspired great expectations.

Then, Cui Hao began to recite slowly:

“Clear waters stretch, reflecting emerald lotus leaves,
A gentle breeze caresses the face, carrying fragrant scents.
Graceful and slender, her appearance fair,
With delicate movements she dances lightly there.
Poets chant verses, leaving elegant rhymes behind,
Painters wield brushes, capturing the lovely maiden’s kind.
Who can truly grasp this wondrous scene?
Only the gifted can interpret what it means.”

As his poem flowed forth, the entire hall erupted in applause.

“What a splendid line: ‘Clear waters stretch, reflecting emerald lotus leaves, a gentle breeze caresses the face, carrying fragrant scents.’ It vividly captures the beauty of lotus leaves resting on the water’s surface!”

“I rather think it’s the latter line, ‘Poets chant verses, leaving elegant rhymes behind’—isn’t that a nod to us?”

Several elders nodded appreciatively. The top scholar lived up to his reputation, producing such a fine work in so short a time—it was truly well-deserved! Though one line, “Painters wield brushes, capturing the lovely maiden,” seemed somewhat out of place given the current scene, the poetic imagery could be seen as metaphorical, so it mattered little.

As the praises washed over him, Song Yiran’s chin lifted defiantly, her gaze challenging Fang Yang. Cui Hao smiled and said to Fang Yang, “Brother Fang, you embarrass yourself.”

“Hmm, indeed somewhat embarrassing,” Fang Yang replied coolly.

Cui Hao’s smile stiffened instantly. A few nearby recognized Fang Yang and scolded sharply, “Bah! Who do you think you are? Just a prodigal son of the Duke of Chengguo. What do you know of poetry, boldly judging the esteemed top scholar here?”

Fang Yang smiled faintly. “What’s the matter? Did I call you trash, and now you’re upset?”

The crowd bristled with anger. Cui Hao quickly stepped forward to smooth things over, finally diffusing the tension.

Then, with a somewhat forced smile, he said to Fang Yang, “Brother Fang, please honor us with your own refined composition.”

“With pleasure. Bring the wine,” Fang Yang said.

Hearing this, Cui Hao gave a subtle glance to a footman nearby, who hastened to pour a cup of wine for Fang Yang.

Fang Yang took the cup and sipped gently. The taste was sweet, with a strong aroma of plum blossoms—quite pleasant. Yet in the next moment, his brow furrowed and he spat the wine out.

No other reason—his true intent was to introduce his own wine, and even the finest wine here would now taste like mere swill!

He then remarked disdainfully, “What lousy wine, bland and tasteless, hard to swallow.”

Cui Hao was stunned, momentarily baffled by Fang Yang’s intentions.

Nearby, Song Yiran shot a cold glance. “Fang Yang! You ignorant prodigal, if you don’t understand wine, then keep your mouth shut! This wine is brewed in Lord Cui’s manor, rare and priceless in the capital!”

“Tch, bland and tasteless, fit only for women,” Fang Yang sneered.

Then he looked at Cui Hao and asked, “There’s talk all over the capital that if you’ve never tasted the Celestial Drunkenness, becoming chancellor is in vain. Do you have it?”

“Our winery isn’t open yet. How could I have that wine?” Cui Hao replied, exasperated.

Fang Yang nodded slightly. It seemed the young masters had been working hard; even they knew about it. Now it was time for him to show his hand.

---

Fang Yang wore a look of feigned regret. “Forget it! I originally hoped to sample your Celestial Drunkenness, but since you don’t have it here, fortunately, I brought some myself.”

He casually lifted a wine jar in his hand and said to Lian’er, “Pour wine for all the gentlemen and also for the esteemed scholars present.”

Lian’er responded obediently and began pouring.

Cui Hao watched the scene, sensing something amiss. Before he could ponder further, Fang Yang handed him a bowl of wine, then poured one for himself.

“Drink wine, but drink Celestial Drunkenness; it pairs best with poetry,” Fang Yang declared.

“Brother Fang, have you composed a poem?” Cui Hao asked, realizing Fang Yang was clearly pushing his wine, and fearing what else he might say.

“Of course I have. Brother Cui, taste the wine in your cup first,” Fang Yang smiled, as if daring Cui Hao not to drink.

Cui Hao was speechless but had no choice; he tilted his head back and swallowed.

Instantly, a fierce spiciness surged through his mouth and nose, flushing his face crimson.

Meanwhile, outside the crowd, in a secluded corner, two figures watched quietly. The smaller was full of curiosity.

These were the children of the Emperor of Great Chu: Crown Prince Chu Neng and Princess Changle.

“Brother, isn’t this a poetry gathering? Why does it seem like Fang Yang is selling wine here?” the princess asked.

“Don’t be foolish, sister. This fellow is definitely selling wine, though I’m unsure how good it is,” the crown prince replied.

Cui Hao took a long moment before swallowing the wine. His face remained flushed.

Just as he was about to urge Fang Yang onward, Fang Yang asked, “Brother Cui, if you were to say, where in Great Chu are the most abundant and beautiful lotus flowers?”

“Need you ask? Naturally, it’s West Lake, where lotus leaves stretch to the sky as far as the eye can see,” Cui Hao answered confidently.

Fang Yang smiled faintly. “Then I shall borrow your West Lake for my poem.”

Then he recited:

“In June by West Lake’s side,
The scenery unlike any other tide.
Endless lotus leaves reach the sky,
Under sunlit blooms of crimson dye.”

At once, the hall fell silent.

An elder struck the table sharply. “Excellent! This poem must be the finest! The line ‘Endless lotus leaves reach the sky, under sunlit blooms of crimson dye’ vividly brings the beauty of lotus flowers and leaves to life!”

Other elders nodded enthusiastically, their faces alight with excitement.

They raised their cups, sipping the wine Lian’er poured.

In an instant, several elders froze, eyes wide.

“This wine!”

They all looked toward Lian’er, who was startled by their gaze.

One elder asked, “Young lady, is this truly the Celestial Drunkenness?”

Lian’er nodded.

Another elder’s eyes gleamed. “Ha! Incredible! To have tasted this exquisite wine that even chancellors covet! How did you procure it, young lady?”

Lian’er hesitated, unsure how to reply.

---

At that moment, Fang Yang approached, saying, “Respected seniors, this wine was reserved by us. If you wish to purchase, you may place an order now. When the Celestial Drunkenness tavern opens, you may collect your goods, and gifts will be included.”

The elders exchanged meaningful looks.

Cui Hao frowned slightly, a flicker of displeasure crossing his mind. This fellow was clearly tactless. If he got the chance later, he would make him regret it.

Sensing Cui Hao’s mood, the elders dropped the topic. Yet in their hearts, a decision was made to have their servants speak with Fang Yang after the poetry gathering to secure several jars.

Fang Yang’s purpose at this poetry gathering was clear: to establish the fame and reputation of Celestial Drunkenness among the upper echelons of society.

Thus, the topic of wine could not end here.

“I suppose, since my poem has been judged the best here, I may propose the next theme?” Fang Yang said.

The elders nodded, still savoring their wine, faces full of enjoyment.

Such rich and fragrant wine—they had never tasted the like. The warmth spreading through their bodies was deeply comforting.

For those who wield words, who does not love wine? It is the wellspring of inspiration!

Receiving their consent, Fang Yang turned to Cui Hao.

Cui Hao, ever elegant and composed, said, “Brother Fang, please proceed.”

“Then let us each compose about the plum blossom brew in your cup and my Celestial Drunkenness,” Fang Yang smiled slyly.

With those few words, he placed Celestial Drunkenness on equal footing with the plum blossom brew, rare and priceless in the capital.

This game was won.

Princess Changle frowned slightly, delicate features tightening. “Brother, this fellow seems to be dragging the top scholar into his schemes again.”

Crown Prince Chu Neng shook his head gently. “Not necessarily. The Cui family is a venerable clan with deep roots. They surely disdain such petty tricks from Fang Yang.”

“Besides, if the Cui family truly cared about the plum blossom brew, it wouldn’t be supplied only within their own household.”

“I see now,” the princess said, enlightened.

Meanwhile, Cui Hao began to compose:

“Cold winds shake and scatter snow through thousand woods,
Yet only plum blossoms show proud, unyielding moods.
A jade flute blows beneath the slanting moon’s glow,
Fragrant wine drifts, mingling scents that softly grow.”

Fang Yang applauded and cheered, “Bravo! Brother Cui speaks of plum blossoms’ steadfast spirit—how does that differ from your own? Admirable! Admirable!”

Seeing Cui Hao willing to play along, Fang Yang was happy to flatter him.

Cui Hao smiled faintly, taking Fang Yang’s words lightly. After all, as a scion of a noble family, his fortitude was strong.

Fang Yang grinned cheerfully. “Since Brother Cui wrote of snow, I cannot stray too far.”

He shook the wine jar in his hand.

As for drinking—he would not partake; his tolerance was limited, after all.

Then he said, “It is said that poetry and verse gain meaning only together. I shall offer a ci.”

Clearing his throat, Fang Yang continued:

“Morning in the painted hall, news of falling snow,
High curtains rolled, auspicious sight aglow,
Bright hues fade across the courtyard stones,
Fragrant smoke from the stove rises alone.
White grasses cold, jade pendants chime,
Surely Celestial Drunkenness, clouds torn in rhyme.”

As the first stanza ended, everyone present narrowed their eyes, wandering deep into the poetic imagery.

Fang Yang pressed on, disregarding their silence.