Volume 1, Chapter 9: The Peerless Couplet

At the very beginning, the scholars looked at Fang Yang with an air of complete indifference.

However, as the first character leaped onto the paper, the scholars were all taken aback, their faces showing a flicker of astonishment. They had not expected that this spendthrift would have such beautiful calligraphy.

Then came the second, the third...

It was not until the first line of the couplet was complete that the scholars suddenly snapped to their senses. Those who had been distracted by the beauty of the characters now scrambled to study the couplet itself. After all, their purpose was not to appreciate calligraphy, but to see what kind of opening line this wastrel of the capital could produce.

But upon looking at it, they were struck as if by a thunderbolt.

One of them even murmured aloud: "The monk paints the lotus in the painting."

At first glance, it seemed ordinary, but upon closer inspection, it was stunning.

Fang Yang, acting as if he had just performed a task of no consequence, tossed the brush to a servant and ordered them to hold up the scroll. He looked at Song Yiran with complete indifference. "Since Miss Song claims I am a vulgar brute and a plagiarist, I wonder if you, Miss Song, can provide the matching line to this opening?"

Seeing the line Fang Yang had written, Song Yiran furrowed her brows.

The seven simple characters were sharp and pointed, with crisp, elegant hooks; the strokes were slender yet resilient, and the brushwork was bold and incisive. It was a display of sharp edge that one would never expect from a spendthrift.

"What is it? If you can provide the matching line, Miss Song, out of respect for you, not only will your drinks be free, but I will also release Xie Ping," Fang Yang added when he saw her remaining silent.

Upon hearing this, Song Yiran glared at him fiercely.

"I was merely offering you some well-intentioned advice! Take it or leave it!" she said huffily, and without a backward glance, she walked away, though she had already memorized his calligraphy style and the couplet in her heart.

Seeing the plague-bearing woman leave, Fang Yang suddenly produced a fan.

*Whoosh!*

He snapped it open and waved it gently, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. With immense confidence, he declared, "Gentlemen! My word still stands: whoever can provide the matching line, from this day forth, all drinks will be free whenever you visit Heavenly Drunkenness!"

"What about you scholars in the front? Hurry up! You were the ones shoving to the front the most just now—why so quiet now?" someone shouted at the scholars who had squeezed their way in earlier.

The scholars turned bright red.

After stammering for a long time, one of them finally admitted, "We cannot provide the matching line."

"Tsk, you can't even solve a couplet, yet you were pushing so hard," the crowd mocked.

The scholars' faces grew even redder. One of them, trying to save face, insisted, "This couplet is not as simple as it looks." He pointed at the characters and continued, "If you don't believe me, try reading it backward! This is a classic palindrome couplet; the meaning must be logical, and the structure, imagery, and parts of speech of the matching line must align perfectly."

Hearing this, someone tried it, skeptical. "Painting on lotus, monk paints on painting!"

Then came a gasp. "Damn! It’s perfect! It really is the same!"

The crowd broke into an uproar.

*Snap!*

Fang Yang closed his fan and a smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

"If you can't solve it, that's fine. Since the shop has just opened, I’ll offer you all a benefit: if you can’t solve it yourself, bring someone talented to do it. If the person you introduce solves it, you will enjoy a fifty-percent discount on all drinks here from now on!"

"And if the person they introduce solves it, you get an even deeper discount, and so on."

The crowd's eyes lit up.

"My wife's third uncle's cousin's younger brother is a scholar! I'll go find him! Even if he can't solve it, he has connections—as long as someone solves it, I get a discount!"

The realization hit the crowd, and many immediately prepared to go fetch their "saviors." Even the scholars left with determined looks. Though they couldn't solve it themselves, their social circles were surely better than those of commoners!

Watching this, Fang Yang smiled. You want my liquor, and I want your free promotion! A guaranteed profit!

Just as Fang Yang was feeling smug, the restrained Xie Ping roared, "Fang Yang! What are you gloating about? It’s just a bunch of commoners buying your wine. Let me tell you, the wine from our Xie family supplies the upper class—you will never compare to us!"

"Heh, interesting. Master Xie, you’re just like a dead duck—all you have left is a stiff beak," Fang Yang chuckled. "But don't worry. My Heavenly Drunkenness won't just squeeze out your common market; the upper class will be mine as well!"

"What a joke! You really think anyone will drink your swill?" Despite being held by servants, Xie Ping's disdain was unconcealed.

Fang Yang smiled slightly. "Then let's wait and see!"

At that very moment, a line of carriages arrived in an orderly fashion.

Then, shouts rang out.

"Fan Li from Xiangyang requests ten jars of Heavenly Drunkenness!"

Before the voice faded, another followed: "Bai Xiang from Dongshan requests twenty jars of Heavenly Drunkenness!"

"Wang Xian from Baishui requests fifteen jars!"

The crowd was bewildered—who were these people making such a scene?

The scholars, however, were shaking with excitement. "The great contemporary Confucian scholars Fan Li, Bai Xiang, and Wang Xian! These are all titans of Confucianism, and they have all come to purchase this Heavenly Drunkenness!"

The commoners were stunned, never expecting such illustrious figures to drink this liquor. Suddenly, they were even more desperate to find someone to solve the couplet.

Fang Yang smiled, signaling his staff to start loading the wine. These arrangements had been made with the stewards of those three elders after the poetry gathering. Everything was going according to plan; once word of mouth spread, the reputation of Heavenly Drunkenness would surely reach a new level. Once he produced glass bottles, he could target the high-end market—he would truly be making money in his sleep!

Watching the wine being loaded, Fang Yang felt a grand ambition rising in his chest. He glanced at the ashen-faced Xie Ping, smirked, and waved his hand, leading his servants to escort the prisoner back to the Duke's mansion.

Xie Ping, dragged along behind, looked devastated; with such a spectacle, his family's business was bound to face a major crisis.

In the courtyard.

Xie Ping was tied to a door panel like a dead dog. Fang Yang sat lazily, sipping tea.

A quarter of an hour later.

"Lian'er, has the news been spread as I asked?" Fang Yang looked at the worried girl.

"Young Master, I have done as you requested, but the Xie family..."

Lian'er was anxious. The Duke was away on official business, and in just a few days, the young master had kidnapped the son of the Marquis of Yongping.

As she pondered, a servant rushed in to report that the Marquis of Yongping, Xie Lin, had arrived!

Fang Yang waved his hand. "Keep him restrained and bring him to the front hall!"

Meanwhile, in the front hall of the Duke's mansion, the Marquis of Yongping, Xie Lin, was pacing, berating the steward, Old Fang.

"Your Duke's mansion has quite the audacity! Kidnapping people under the Emperor's nose? How does the Duke teach his son? If you don't release my son and give me an explanation today, even if the Duke is away, I will file a report against him!"

"Marquis, please, calm yourself. Our Young Master will be here shortly. There must be some misunderstanding. If there is any issue, I assure you, when our Duke returns, he will certainly give you an explanation," Old Fang pleaded.

The Duke's mansion was currently weak, and even small-time thugs could bully them. Facing a powerful general, they had no choice but to smile and endure.

"Hmph! What misunderstanding! Release my son Xie Ping immediately and offer silver as compensation, or I shall go to His Majesty and make you pay dearly!"

Xie Lin was arrogant and overbearing. Old Fang was sweating profusely. With the master away and only the young master left, he had to support him—he had raised the boy since he was a child!

"Marquis, let's talk this out. We will surely satisfy you," Old Fang tried again.

"Satisfy my foot!"

Before Old Fang could finish, Fang Yang arrived with his servants, dragging Xie Ping along.

*Clatter!*

Old Fang saw Xie Ping, beaten to a pulp and bound in ropes, and felt as if the sky had collapsed. "Young... Young Master, what are you doing?"

"It's fine. I'll handle it," Fang Yang replied nonchalantly.

The Marquis was livid. Seeing his son beaten into the shape of a pig's head, he pointed a trembling finger at Fang Yang. "Good! Very good! The Duke has indeed raised a fine son!"

"Thank you for the praise. It’s certainly better than your fine son, who is currently lying there like a dead pig," Fang Yang retorted sharply.

Old Fang felt his head spinning. With the Duke away, the young master had truly poked a hole in the sky!