Chapter 166: On Luoma Lake

"Is this made from sorghum?" He Weiyuan asked flatly.

In the He family's guest hall, Zhou Xuezhi, dressed in a blue robe, stood to one side. Four sturdy, muscular men stood at the four corners of the hall. He Weiyuan sat upright behind a table, on which sat a wine pot and a wine cup. Across from He Weiyuan, two rough-handed, large-footed men knelt on the floor.

"To answer the master, it was made from sorghum. The sorghum is fine goods from Guide, normally used for making pastries," one of the kneeling men replied, trembling with fear.

At these words, He Weiyuan abruptly stood up, hurled the wine cup in his hand to the floor, and growled, "Such fine sorghum, and yet it still produces this swill? Isn't this just the same cheap rotgut sold on the street for a few coppers a catty?"

The wine cup shattered. The two men kneeling on the floor both shuddered and immediately began kowtowing without pause. Shards of the broken porcelain flew; a piece cut one man's forehead as he knocked his head against the ground, blood streaming down his face, but he dared not even wipe it away and continued to kowtow.

"What use is kowtowing? Can your kowtowing make good wine?" He Weiyuan's voice leveled out, but his tone grew increasingly cold and sinister.

"M-Master, Master, if this lowly one may speak out of turn, that so-called Han Well Famous Liquor goes down so smoothly and has such a strong kick—it couldn't possibly be made from sorghum. This lowly one has made wine for decades and simply doesn't believe there's some secret brewing method. With all the wines under heaven, the differences are nothing more than the starter, the grain and mother liquor, the water. How could sorghum possibly produce such fine wine? It must have used wheat, or perhaps beans," the man below said, his voice trembling.

Hearing this, He Weiyuan looked up at Zhou Xuezhi beside him. Zhou Xuezhi bowed and said, "This lowly one has already sent men to investigate. Although we cannot enter that distillery, we can estimate the general picture from the outside. From start to finish, no other grain has ever entered that distillery. Even before they began producing wine, they used only sorghum."

Upon hearing Zhou Xuezhi's words, the two men kneeling below grew anxious. Forgetting their fear, they raised their heads and said, "Master, that's impossible! What kind of wine did that Lu Xiangjiu ever make back in the day? If not for the large orders from the river, his wine wouldn't even sell. And that Su Da is a complete nobody whose name we've never even heard."

The other man beside him, his body trembling nonstop, still chimed in, "Master, we lowly ones know every wine-making master on the Xuzhou scene. Their skill can't be much better than ours. We still can't figure out how they could produce wine this good."

"Get out!" He Weiyuan slammed the table and roared.

The more the two men below tried to explain, the more agitated he became. The two men shuddered violently and hurriedly stood up. Zhou Xuezhi, standing to the side, said gently, "Master Qu, go back and tend to that wound. The master is simply impatient. You must continue trying to make the wine."

The two masters nodded obsequiously. As they stepped over the threshold, one of them tripped and nearly fell.

Zhou Xuezhi glanced at the guards standing at the four corners. Seeing one of them on the verge of laughing, he immediately shot him a vicious glare. Clearing his throat, he said, "All of you, withdraw. I have important matters to report to the master."

The four men did not move. Only when they saw He Weiyuan nod with a dark expression did the four bow and withdraw.

Now alone in the guest hall, Zhou Xuezhi stepped forward and said, "Master, inside that distillery, at least four men are brothers of the Incense. Among the guards outside, there are another six. It's just that Zhao Jin's rules are far too strict; our people can't get close, can't even exchange a word. But since we have our Incense brothers inside, Master, you needn't be overly anxious. The formula from that distillery will be ours sooner or later."

He Weiyuan's expression did not ease in the slightest. He merely gave a cold snort and said, "Brothers of the Incense? What use is such empty talk in front of me? If not to fill their bellies, who would come to burn this incense? Now that Zhao Jin's boy gives them full bellies and warm clothes, do you think they truly care about the Eternal Venerable Mother or Maitreya Buddha?"

Zhou Xuezhi gave two dry laughs and spoke again, "Master, why be in such a rush? We have over a dozen stills steaming wine, and our relations with that side are so well maintained. The wine Zhao Jin produces isn't even enough to sell within the city; it doesn't steal our business. Let's just take it slowly. His place isn't a wall of bronze and iron; we'll get that method sooner or later."

He Weiyuan suddenly swept his hand up. The remaining wine pot on the table was sent crashing to the floor by him. The fine celadon wine pot shattered into pieces on the ground. At this loud noise, two men outside hurriedly poked their heads in. Seeing nothing amiss, they withdrew.

Seeing such a strong reaction from He Weiyuan, Zhou Xuezhi's expression stiffened somewhat. He Weiyuan, grinding his teeth, said, "How can we take it slowly? This thing is our very lifeline, and that lifeline is about to be cut off before our eyes."

"This..." Zhou Xuezhi was about to speak, but He Weiyuan cut him off. He Weiyuan said coldly, "You don't need to comfort this old man. Everyone knows Zhao Jin's side is adding more stills. Once their wine output increases, we can forget about selling wine. Have you considered it? He uses sorghum; we use rice, wheat, and beans. His place is so many li closer to the river than ours. Factor in the base cost, factor in the transport fees—how do we compete with him? Take it slowly? Right now, it's just a matter of dying sooner or dying later."

Zhou Xuezhi pondered for a moment and said, "On the river, there are many brothers within the sect. Our family's wine hasn't been sold for just a year or two. How could such old connections be broken so easily?"

At this, He Weiyuan's face grew even darker. He let out a long sigh and said, "Usually, you take this the least seriously, yet today you keep prattling on about 'brothers.' Do they buy and sell wine for anything but silver? If they can earn silver, they're brothers. If someone lets them earn more, they'd even acknowledge their own parents."

Every reason he offered was refuted. Zhou Xuezhi coughed awkwardly twice and said, "Master, Zhao Jin has several hundred able-bodied men under his command. They are ruthless and merciless, and his official connections are extensive and tangled. Even those monks from Cloud Mountain Temple don't dare do anything. If we rashly turn hostile... their relationship with the Mu family is also troublesome!"

"If the wine business is ruined, those connections will also grow cold. Is this old man supposed to just guard these fields and live out his days?" He Weiyuan said coldly.

Zhou Xuezhi was left speechless. He Weiyuan sat in silence for a moment, then suddenly slammed the table and roared, "That Zhao Jin has repeatedly opposed our holy sect, killed our evangelists, humiliated our congregants, and extorted money. As the Assembly Master, if I do not protect the law and the sect, how can I face the Shandong General Altar? How can I face the Patriarch and the honored venerables?"

"At this point, that is the only way," Zhou Xuezhi said gravely. He spoke with solemnity, but inwardly he sighed, thinking that cutting off a man's livelihood truly was an unforgivable, blood-deep hatred.

The weather turned cool in September. It was said that light snow had already fallen in Northern Zhili, and here in Southern Zhili, north of the river, clothes were gradually being thickened, though it was still bearable. But on the water—on rivers and lakes—the cold wind was quite hard to endure.

If one boarded a boat at the Yellow River dock outside Xuzhou city and traveled east, disembarking at the eastern border of Pizhou, this place was the central junction point between north and south on the present-day Grand Canal.

After the canal was rerouted through the Jia River, it happened to pass through Luoma Lake between Pizhou and Suzhou. Yutou Town lay just south of Luoma Lake. Boats traveling on the water naturally needed places to anchor. But the canal stretched over a thousand li; long as it was, it was narrow. Brief stops were possible, but long-term anchorage required dedicated ports and docks. Yet even at ports and docks, the space available was very limited.

Luoma Lake, however, had no such problem. The lake surface was windless and suitable for anchorage. The lake was vast, so boats traveling north and south need not worry about crowding.

Because this was roughly the midpoint, boats traveling north and south all had to stop here to rest and reorganize. And because it was the midpoint, many goods traveling from south to north and north to south were unloaded and traded right here.

With the convergence of people and goods, prosperity was inevitable. In less than ten years, Yutou Town had already earned the name "Little Yangzhou," a testament to its flourishing state.

The grain soldiers and officials of the tribute boats, the sailors and boat owners of civilian vessels, and the passengers—rich and poor, noble and humble alike—would all go ashore to relax when the boats stopped. Aside from purchasing all sorts of goods, they also sought entertainment and pleasure. Thus, the side of Yutou Town facing Luoma Lake was packed with wine shops and restaurants. There were also several pleasure houses catering to different classes of clientele. According to those well-traveled and knowledgeable, despite Yutou Town's small size, a few of the large establishments actually had courtesans from the Qinhuai River and Yangzhou in residence—a scene rarely found anywhere across the land.

Besides these establishments catering exclusively to the wealthy and noble, as long as you had silver in your pocket, you could always find a place to spend it. There were also plenty of inexpensive boat-girls out on the lake.

While some sought pleasure, others could only remain on their boats. There were people doing business with them, too. Besides those boat-girls, there were also small boats specifically rowing around selling wine and food. Hot and cold dishes, yellow wine, and distilled spirits—they could provide them at any time, and the prices weren't much higher than on shore.

These small boats selling wine and food liked to follow the tribute boats most of all, because people on other boats preferred to go ashore for recreation. The grain soldiers on the tribute boats had to guard the vessels and could not easily leave, so they could only buy wine and food nearby.

By mid-September, the tribute boat business was about to stop, because in October the river surface to the north would freeze over, making passage impossible. The boats currently anchored on the lake were likely the last few convoys of the year.

"Everyone on board! This humble brother here has top-quality distilled spirits, freshly cooked pressed duck, tender braised beef, and seasonal vegetables thrown in for free!" Such a cry rang out beside a tribute boat convoy on the lake.

"Over here, over here!" Someone on a half-empty tribute boat stood up and shouted loudly.

Watching the boat approach, another man laughed and cursed, "Old Qian, what good distilled spirits could that broken-down boat of yours possibly have? That 'fine wine' you talk about—don't tell me it's cut with well water instead of the usual lake water?"

A roar of laughter erupted from the group. The rowing man, Old Qian, also chuckled, completely unruffled. "If I didn't cut it with water, how could I keep up with you lot drinking like donkeys? But today you're in luck—I really do have some fine wine."

The tribute boats ran all year round, passing through Luoma Lake several times a year. Those who regularly did business here had grown familiar with each other. The boats drew alongside. Old Qian first took a bowl of fennel beans from his cabin and handed it over. The several grain soldiers on board accepted it, eating and chatting with cheerful grins.