Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Wine Bottle Packaging

After the Qin family’s affairs had been more or less settled, Zhen Qian returned to Zhendin with several carts loaded with freshly roasted nuts, leaving the Qin family behind, full of anticipation. Zhen Qian was away for six or seven days, but nothing major happened in the Zhen household during his absence. Madam Xing and Steward Xing did send people to inquire about his sudden disappearance, but all their questions were brushed aside with well-prepared excuses.

Upon his return, Zhen Qian made a show of paying his respects to Madam Xing, who, maintaining her dignity as the matron, scolded him a few times. Her words were nothing more than the usual admonishments—not leaving without notice, making the family worry—rhetoric that everyone knew well and none took to heart.

“How are the Song family’s culinary skills coming along these days?” Zhen Qian’s main concern was still the Song family’s cooking; this was the first step in the grand plan to make his fortune. Wang Sheng replied immediately, “They’ve already mastered a dozen or so dishes. In ten or so more days, we should be able to open for business without any problem!”

Haste makes waste. Zhen Qian had to suppress his impatience and summoned Wang You to ask about the situation with Steward Xing. “That steward is sly and sharp; if we tail him too closely, he’ll notice. There’s nothing unusual on Madam Xing’s side either, unless we just arrest Steward Xing…” Wang You suggested.

Zhen Qian quickly discarded this absurd idea. Alerting the enemy was out of the question, and if Steward Xing suddenly disappeared, he himself would be the first suspect. Madam Xing was just waiting for him to make a blunder. After thinking it over, Zhen Qian realized there was little he could do; many tricks simply didn’t work on Steward Xing, so all he could do was wait for the right opportunity.

Days passed. One day, Zhen Qian heard that the Drunken Immortal Tavern had finished its renovations. Unable to contain his excitement, he rushed over to take a look. His heart fluttered with anticipation and nervousness, as if he were about to welcome a bride.

The Drunken Immortal Tavern had been rebuilt on the foundation of the Song family’s small restaurant. It now boasted a second floor and had doubled in size. Even so, the renovation had cost forty to fifty strings of cash—a painful sum to contemplate.

“Elder Song, are you satisfied with the new tavern?” Judging by Song Yi’s expression, he was already content with the small establishment. Yet in Zhen Qian’s eyes, it still didn’t compare to even the smallest roadside inns of later generations, and he couldn’t understand what there was to be so pleased about.

Zhen Qian teased, “Elder Song, you seem quite content. I wonder, when the Drunken Immortal Tavern ranks among the top ten in Zhendin, will you be even happier than you are now?”

“I’m not so ambitious, young master. As long as I can earn a hundred strings a year, I’ll be more than satisfied!”

Zhen Qian didn’t quite know how to judge Song Yi’s honest and simple outlook. He wandered around the tavern for a while. Indeed, the new tavern was much improved over the former eatery. The first floor now had over a dozen tables and chairs, the second floor was partitioned into six or seven private rooms, and—most crucially—a special counter was set at the entrance to sell spirits directly to the public.

Even before opening, some curious onlookers had come to snoop around. Though their identities were unknown, it was clear they were scouts from rival taverns. However, after seeing the scale of the Drunken Immortal Tavern, their numbers dwindled.

If Song Yi had been a greedy merchant, Zhen Qian would have been infinitely more cautious with him. “Elder Song, how has the spirit been selling these past few days?”

Wang Sheng replied at once, “The buy-one-get-one-free promotion has drawn in quite a few drinkers, but your spirit is too strong for most first-timers—they find it hard to adapt. It will probably take some time for people to accept it,” Song Yi said tactfully.

Though he had expected as much, hearing it still gave Zhen Qian pause. He hadn’t anticipated that distilled spirits would be so little known in the Tang dynasty. Clearly, he would have to come up with another strategy.

“Do you have any suggestions, Elder Song?” Zhen Qian had introduced the spirit early to attract more attention and build an atmosphere for the tavern’s grand opening. However, the market response was lukewarm—he had underestimated how hard it would be for Tang people to accept strong liquor.

“Well…” Song Yi hesitated. “The spirit itself is quite good and pure, but the alcohol content is too high. If it could be reduced a bit, more people would probably enjoy it.”

“I’m aware of that. But lower-proof spirits aren’t something I can produce right now. Besides, once the alcohol content drops, the flavor changes, and it loses its competitive edge against other wines.”

At present, Zhen Qian could create spirits at just over thirty degrees, but only in small quantities. Most of his distilled spirits were around forty degrees, a far cry from the ten-something degree wines common in the Tang dynasty. If he simply diluted his product, he’d lose his advantage. More importantly, the technology for making low-proof wine in the Tang dynasty was already highly developed, with a wide variety of flavors. Competing in that market might not bring profit, but it would certainly make enemies.

Business is much like life: first you must know your place and understand your circumstances. His advantage lay in a thousand years of experience and historical insight. If he got bogged down fighting over minutiae, he would only end up defeated.

Song Yi also understood the spirit’s niche market; just as there are a hundred tastes for a hundred mouths, the spirit had sold, just not as well as hoped—perhaps because it wasn’t yet well known.

“Good wine still fears a deep alley,” Song Yi consoled him. “Our tavern hasn’t opened yet, so few know of the spirit. But when our new dishes are unveiled, it’s bound to create a sensation in all of Zhendin, and the spirit’s reputation will surely rise.”

“Perhaps,” Zhen Qian replied quietly. Standing on the second floor, he glanced down to see a man in black approach the counter, toss two wineskins onto it, and call out, “A dou of your strongest spirit!”

Song Yi’s grandson, playing the role of waiter, deftly filled the two skins and collected the payment. The man eagerly took a swig, then turned to leave. Zhen Qian leaned over the railing and called out, “Sir downstairs, might I have a word with you upstairs?”

The man looked up, his expression changing when he recognized Zhen Qian. He nodded respectfully, “So it’s Young Master Zhen. I’ll come up at once.”

Yet again, it was one of the local constables whom Zhen Qian didn’t recognize. He was a little frustrated at how well known he had become in Zhendin.

The constable came upstairs and greeted everyone. Zhen Qian politely introduced Song Yi as the tavern’s manager, omitting any mention of his own involvement.

“I am Liang Er, chief constable from the county yamen. What can I do for you, young master?”

“It’s like this,” Zhen Qian said, “Song Yi is a distant relative of one of my household servants. I hope you’ll look after him in the future.” As he spoke, he slipped a piece of gold into Liang Er’s sleeve without anyone noticing. Startled and grateful, Liang Er promised to keep an eye on the area and ensure that no riffraff would bother the Drunken Immortal Tavern.

“Thank you very much!” Though Zhen Qian disdained these constables who played both sides of the law, he knew it was better to avoid trouble, so he kept his tone friendly. “Captain Liang, there’s something I don’t understand. Our spirit is sharp and strong, yet you seem to enjoy it. May I ask why?”

Liang Er hefted the two wineskins. “You may not know this, young master, but we constables often have to patrol at night. It’s cold and damp out there, and a sip of strong spirit warms the whole body. It’s one of the best ways to drive out the cold.”

Zhen Qian nodded thoughtfully, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and saw Liang Er out. Then he turned to Song Yi, “Who has been buying the spirit these days? Keep a record of their identities. We misjudged the spirit’s target market at first. We’ll need to adjust our strategy and audience.”

Spirits selling at a hundred to two hundred cash per dou were considered mid-to-high quality among wines. Previously, they had targeted the wealthy, but now it seemed that the spirit was unexpectedly popular among the lower and middle classes, much to Zhen Qian and Song Yi’s surprise.

“Now that you mention it, young master, the other day a group of officers came by and bought a whole stone of spirit. They even asked if we had anything stronger. I didn’t think much of it at the time—just assumed they wanted to try something new. I’ll pay closer attention from now on.”

Just as Zhen Qian was about to leave, a sudden thought struck him. “Are all the wines sold in taverns and shops stored in skins and jars?”

Song Yi, puzzled by the question, replied quickly, “Yes, all wine in taverns and shops is stored in various jars. If it’s sold for takeaway, it’s put in skins or smaller jars. That’s the custom.”

Zhen Qian wiped his brow in realization. He’d seen so many scenes in dramas where people drank from jars or poured wine from elegant pots. He’d unconsciously assumed that ancient people already had standardized wine bottles like those of later times. In reality, there were no such luxury containers in this era. He’d completely overlooked this crucial detail.

“Elder Song, are there any kilns around Zhendin? If we custom order a batch of wine pots with the same shape and size, fill them with spirit, and sell them, do you think this bottled wine could shake up the entire wine business in Zhendin?”

“I’m not sure… Wouldn’t that raise costs?” Song Yi asked uncertainly.

“It would, but the wool comes from the sheep’s back,” Zhen Qian replied. “We don’t need to make the bottles too fancy at first. Let’s fire a batch of earthenware pots and a few porcelain ones. I’ll have someone make cork stoppers for them. We’ll position this as a mid-to-high range product and see how the market reacts. Those who bring their own containers might care about an extra ten or so cash, but those who forget won’t mind paying a bit more.” As he spoke, Zhen Qian took up brush and ink, sketching a design for the bottle and instructing Song Yi to visit the kilns and inquire if they could produce them.