"Brother Mu has changed." Madame Sha sounded both sighing and annoyed. "Last time, those servants must've addled your brain. Tsk, can't even afford wine, so you brew your own."
"Fifteen taels. I'll come collect in three days. If you can't pay, you'll die with that wench." Madame Sha stood and slowly walked out of the courtyard. The five guards, seemingly unsatisfied, smashed their cudgels around as they left, even breaking the gate.
Si Hu cursed, grabbing a cudgel to charge after them, but Xu Mu held him back. Their current strength was no match for Wangzhou's shadowy 利益 network.
"Xu Lang, I-I'm sorry." Jiang Caiwei emerged from the house, eyes red, voice thick with sobs.
"You should thank Brother Mu. Any other thug would've had their fun and sold you long ago!" Si Hu fumed, then stalked off to clean up.
"Xu Lang, sleep in the house tonight." Her voice grew softer, fading to a mosquito's buzz.
Xu Mu knew well enough—Jiang Caiwei wanted to offer herself. He suspected if he entered, the night would turn to intimacy. But he didn't want that. He and Jiang Caiwei weren't lovers; they were bound together—first by the hardship registration, now by fifteen taels. It felt like their ties were growing tighter.
"I'll sleep in the cattle shed. Don't go wood-cutting these two days."
"Xu Lang, I'll earn silver!"
"Listen to me." Xu Mu sighed. "Stay here. Build more earthen stoves for me. Better put up wooden fences to screen the courtyard walls."
His private wine venture had just begun; he didn't want too many people knowing.
"Th-this humble one understands." Jiang Caiwei still looked anxious. Fifteen taels might as well have been a fortune to them.
"Go to sleep."
"I took your coins, which means I promised—I won't sell you."
Jiang Caiwei turned, tears streaming down her face.
...
Early next morning, Xu Mu told Si Hu to load the wine jars onto an old wooden cart, then creaked toward the market.
Wangzhou had many old wineries, nearly monopolizing the business. Common folk brewed private wine only for their own consumption. Few, like Xu Mu, brought just a few jars to sell.
"Three taels a jar."
Three taels was just his starting price. Once he made a name, it would only rise.
"A thug brewing wine, charging three taels a jar? That's odd. The old shop's February Spring, a century-old brand, only dares to sell for two qian."
"Forced to buy?"
By mid-morning, a crowd had gathered around the cart. Many recognized Xu Mu as a thug, sparking further curiosity.
Xu Mu smiled, lining up small cups on the cart and filling each. Instantly, the rich aroma hit the onlookers' noses.
"That smell's not bad."
"Everyone, this cup's on me." Xu Mu bowed, glancing across at the Fortune Inn. To make his private wine known, Wangzhou's largest inn was his first target.
"I'll drink it!"
"Here, let's share a cup!"
As Xu Mu expected, his distilled wine—both in taste and fiery kick—outshone ordinary fermented wines. Soon, the crowd around the cart grew red-faced and excited.
"Hey, scoop me two liang!"
"I'll take half a jin!"
"Drinking this feels like being an immortal official."
"Fine wine's priceless."
In no time, three of the four jars were sold. Si Hu, clutching six or seven taels, cheered like a child, nearly hugging Xu Mu.
"What about the last jar! Hey, thug, what about the last jar!" Those who'd arrived late, missing out, pointed at the final jar.
"This one's already spoken for. If you like it, come back in a few days." Xu Mu spoke calmly.
Si Hu puffed out his chest, gripping his cudgel menacingly, finally making the disgruntled onlookers step back.
Once the crowd dispersed, Xu Mu stayed put, not packing up. Across the way, a portly middle-aged man at the Fortune Inn had watched silently, then waved for a waiter.
"My master says to bring the wine over." The waiter sniffed, chin raised.
Xu Mu exhaled, not minding. He instructed Si Hu, then carried the last jar, following the waiter into the inn.
As the saying goes, good wine needs no bush. The Fortune Inn, watching so long, had finally succumbed to curiosity.
"You brewed this?" The innkeeper, a fat man named Zhou Fu, sipped slowly, his surprised expression quickly masked. "A bit harsh. Still, not as good as February Spring."
"Master Zhou's quite the connoisseur." Xu Mu smiled faintly, picking up the jar to leave.
Now it was Zhou Fu's turn to panic. He hadn't expected this young thug to be such a tough nut. In Wangzhou, every winery groveled for his business—after all, the Fortune Inn went through hundreds of jars monthly.
"Wait, wait a moment." Zhou Fu forced a laugh. "How about this: one tael a jar, and I'll take all you have?"
"Three taels. Not a coin less." Xu Mu shook his head, smiling.
"That's too steep. Few in Wangzhou can afford it."
Poor folk couldn't, but wealthy merchants and officials would gladly drown themselves in it.
"If Master Zhou doesn't want it, I'll try another inn. No need to waste each other's time."
"W-wait!" Zhou Fu gritted his teeth, puzzled by this thug's confidence. Still, it was excellent wine. If a rival inn got it first, the loss would be disastrous. "I'll take fifty jars."
"Fine. Come collect in ten days."
"Ten days? That's too slow. The February Spring shop delivers every three days."
"Fine wine takes work—more than those old shops put in."
"That... seems true."
"Master Zhou, mind a deposit?"
Zhou Fu frowned, annoyed. "How much?"
"Thirty taels."
"Thirty taels! You're a thug—if you take the money and run, where would I find you?"
"If Master Zhou won't, another inn will." Xu Mu lost patience, picking up the jar to leave.
"Fine! Thirty taels! You thug, if you cheat me, I've got men to make you regret it!" Slamming a bag of silver on the table, Zhou Fu's voice turned cold.