Chapter 12: The Dream God's Brew

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Qin Duo also stayed up late that night, until the candle on the desk flickered repeatedly, the wax burned down to the base, tears of wax streaming down.
A century of trials and tribulations spanned merely a thin volume in the history books, yet he read it again and again.
Even though this body was already weary, the spirit belonging to an emperor from a hundred years ago remained lucid. Qin Duo had once stayed up late revising memorials, often sleeping past midnight.
Moreover, he was reluctant to close his eyes, tirelessly reading the words of history over and over.
Finally, Qin Duo rested his head on the desk, arms cradling the century-long history of the Great Wei, and fell asleep.
The candlelight gently surrounded him, until the long night slowly passed, and with a soft flicker, the flame was extinguished.
The autumn wind carried a chill throughout the night.
Unsurprisingly, Qin Duo soon fell ill in this new body.
When he woke the next morning, he felt a splitting headache, his throat parched and dry as if it might ignite.
He called out, but his voice was hoarse.
The chamberlain rushed in hurriedly, and Gou Hongyang followed, having learned that Qin Duo had awakened, about to enter the room behind the chamberlain.
The chamberlain was shocked to see Qin Duo curled up beside the desk, his face unusually flushed. She hurried over and, feeling his hand, was surprised by the intense heat.
“Master, you have a fever?!”
Gou Hongyang halted at the door, withdrawing his foot, and stepped outside, ordering Chi Xuan to send word to the palace of Qin Duo’s illness.
The rest was left for His Majesty to decide.
Qin Duo’s hands and feet were cold; he reached up to touch his forehead, which was burning hot.
Most likely, he had caught a chill from the wind the previous night. This body was already frail and ill, compounded by the late-night reading, causing his sudden collapse.
With the chamberlain’s help, he slowly moved to the bed and was covered with thick quilts. The chamberlain hurried back and forth, bringing a basin of clean water and a towel to wipe his face.
“Chamberlain, go...,” Qin Duo’s throat was sore and swollen; he struggled to speak, “go fetch a doctor.”
He almost said “imperial physician.”
But before long, the imperial physician arrived on his own, dragged in by Chi Xuan by the collar.
The physician appeared elderly, with graying hair and beard, his back bent. Being carried by the robust young man Chi Xuan, he looked like an eagle holding a chick.
Qin Duo lazily opened his heavy eyelids.
The physician’s face paled repeatedly, his aged heart unable to endure the rough treatment. He turned his head and vomited violently.
Qin Duo was speechless.
“Chi Xuan, why have you come?” he asked hoarsely, pointing to the puddle on the ground, “Is this a person?”
Chi Xuan respectfully replied, “His Majesty heard that Lord Wen was unwell and commanded me to send the imperial physician to attend to him.”
The old man retched again.
Qin Duo hoarsely remarked, “I think he needs the physician more than I do.”
Chi Xuan was at a loss.
Though ill and dizzy, the emperor’s mind remained sharp. “I’ve been awake less than half an hour, and Your Majesty has already sent an imperial physician. What, are you spying on me?”
Chi Xuan stiffened, sensing the hidden presence of his colleague Chi Xuan, who was lurking nearby.
Qin Duo read Chi Xuan’s reaction and understood: “The spies you sent are either from the Secret Service or your Xuan Clothes Guard.”

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A statement, not a question.
Chi Xuan lowered his head and said nothing, only lifting the now recovered physician to stand.
Qin Duo did not expect an answer. From their expressions and demeanors, the story was clear.
Hmph, the young emperor is quite clever. Such unusual behavior from officials must be watched.
Indeed, this is the spirit of the Qin family.
Since the imperial physician had arrived, there was no need to summon a city doctor. Qin Duo naturally instructed, “Chi Xuan, go call the chamberlain back. Tell him there’s no need to find a city doctor.”
Chi Xuan was puzzled and pointed to himself, “Me?”
Qin Duo reached out a hand and without looking up said, “Yes, go.”
“Yes, sir.” Chi Xuan immediately stood at attention and left.
As he walked down the alley, he was baffled and confused, halfway through remembering: Ah, who was the chamberlain again?
Wait, why did I instinctively obey that courtier’s order?
—
Qin Duo’s fever was from a cold caught due to his already fragile health.
The imperial physician prescribed medicine that would not conflict with his heart condition drugs, advised proper bed rest, then fled back to the palace with lingering fear before Chi Xuan returned.
Qin Duo stared gloomily at the two bowls of black, bitter medicine on the table, resignedly threw himself onto the bed, and closed his eyes as if dead.
After a moment, he suddenly sat up, downed all the medicine in one gulp, changed clothes, and sneaked out without the chamberlain’s knowledge.
Hmph, laughable—a mere cold and fever.
In his previous life, he had ridden at the northern border, wounded in battle, his wound infected and fever raging, yet he donned armor and fought the next day, slaying the enemy general in a fierce melee.
So even now, with a fever, he would not let it stop him from enjoying himself.
With only faint memories of the capital’s streets, Qin Duo stumbled into a bustling marketplace.
A century had passed; the capital had changed greatly.
The crowds bustled back and forth; Qin Duo stood alone among them, gazing at the Great Wei of today.
The market was filled with many novel things he hadn’t seen in his former life. Over there was a stall selling bamboo crafts shaped like honeysuckle flowers, their wood scent steady and elegant. Further in, a shop sold sweet soups.
Qin Duo’s eyes lit up; he darted inside.
Tables and chairs lined the sides, adults led children by the hand, and on the tables were exquisite bowls of iced desserts. Scanning quickly, Qin Duo saw various candied fruits, seasonal chrysanthemum pastries, and many unfamiliar sweets that must have appeared since his death.
His starry eyes sparkled as he squatted by the sign, inspecting each item.
He ordered a portion of glutinous rice lotus root and buried his head over the table, eating eagerly.
Outside, Chi Xuan stopped at the entrance, hidden in the shadows of the market, quickly recording Qin Duo’s movements.
After finishing the lotus root, Qin Duo wandered out and eagerly crouched by a cricket fighting stall, shoulder to shoulder with a group of half-grown children and spoiled ruffians, admiring a rare red-threaded cricket that crushed all others without a scratch.
Amid the loud cheers, Qin Duo slipped away again, blending into the bustling crowd.
At the edge of the market, he saw a tavern and happily entered. “Innkeeper, bring me a jar of Immortal’s Draft.”
This was the strong liquor he loved most in his previous life, sold only in the market districts.
Imperial liquor required harmony of color, aroma, and taste, but Immortal’s Draft was murky and unappealing, so it was never brought into the palace. Qin Duo never bothered to have it fetched, as it broke protocol and was troublesome. When he craved its flavor, he always slipped out.
Besides, such a down-to-earth, lively drink belonged in a noisy, bustling world, didn’t it?
What fun was it to drink alone in a cold, silent hall?

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Only in lively taverns and inns, amid the bustling mortal world, was this wine meant to be enjoyed.
Immortal’s Draft gave him a chance—a rare escape from the oppressive heights of emperorship to a place full of life, to find some amusement and a brief breath away from heavy affairs.
Thus, Qin Duo again came to the tavern that brought him comfort and asked the innkeeper to bring a jar of earthly wine.
“Immortal’s Draft?” The innkeeper was momentarily taken aback, “Honored guest, do you mean Dream Spirit Brew?”
“Hm?” Qin Duo was puzzled but showed no sign on his face. He strode to a long table and sat down decisively, asking, “Then bring a bowl of Dream Spirit Brew for me to try.”
After all, a century had passed; some changes were natural.
The innkeeper called a waiter to fetch a bowl of Dream Spirit Brew.
Qin Duo looked at the familiar wine in the bowl, lifted it, and sipped. The spicy burn scorched his tongue; after a moment, a mellow sweetness returned, the rich aroma filling his mouth—still the familiar taste of Immortal’s Draft.
The same wine, just a different name.
“Hey, boy, wait.” Qin Duo called the waiter back, “What’s the origin of the name Dream Spirit Brew?”
Before the waiter could answer, a burly man dressed in rough cloth spoke in a dialect-laced Mandarin, astonished, “You don’t know the origin of Dream Spirit Brew?!”
His voice was thunderous, causing nearby people to cover their ears and shout for him to quiet down.
The man, like a chick scolded by its mother hen, lowered his voice and leaned toward Qin Duo, “Brother, this wine was named by the emperor himself. How could I not know?”
Named by the emperor?
Qin Duo’s interest was piqued; he leaned closer, infected by the man’s enthusiasm, discreetly pushing a small silver coin toward him, whispering, “Brother, tell me more.”
“Ah, no need for that!” The man pushed the coin back into Qin Duo’s hand, slapping his back. “Four years ago, when His Majesty first ascended the throne, he wanted to taste all the fine wines of the land. After trying this wine, he was inspired, dreaming of an immortal in his intoxication!
The emperor was delighted and immediately named the wine Dream Spirit Brew! Wait... the emperor announced the name to the whole world back then, how could I not know?”
“At that time, I was bedridden, my mind unclear.” Qin Duo now shamelessly made up excuses.
“Indeed, I wouldn’t have noticed either,” the man said, suddenly realizing Qin Duo’s pale, ill appearance, “But you don’t look that sick now.”
“Just recovering from a major illness, just recovering...” Qin Duo waved his hand, brushing it off, listening as the man began boasting about life in the outskirts of the capital.
His thoughts drifted unconsciously.
Qin Xuanxiao? He loved Immortal’s Draft so much he personally named it Dream Spirit Brew?
It’s just a wine; was it really necessary to make such a fuss?
This kid...
But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a matter of principle. If the child liked it, let him be.
Just a name change; the royal family could allow such a thing.
This child’s taste in drink bore the spirit of my own youth.
Qin Duo’s gaze returned to the murky wine in the bowl, where the sediment had settled at the bottom, and the clear layer on top rippled slightly with the tavern’s lively noise.
Suddenly, outside the tavern came the thunder of hooves and startled shouts—chaos erupted.
Qin Duo looked out to see a young man in purple riding a tall horse, holding a folded whip, pointing at an old man lying before the horse’s hooves.
An old woman wrapped in a headscarf stood nearby, her basket broken, fruit rolling across the ground.
The young man shouted angrily, “I didn’t even touch you! What are you pretending for!”