Chapter 39: The Curious Crowd

Li Residence, Front Courtyard.

Cui Yuzhe, accompanied by his younger sister Cui Wenjin, looked at Lady Li and Li Jingjie, who had come to see them off. He hurriedly clasped his hands in salute, indicating there was no need to escort them further.

“Lady Li, Uncle, please don’t trouble yourselves. Rest assured, once I return, should the opportunity arise, I will ask my clan to help persuade my uncle not to bear grudges over past matters.”

Cui Yuzhe’s words were a personal promise: upon returning, he would enlist his clan’s support to reconcile his uncle with the Li family.

“Then I must thank you, dear nephew!” Li Jingjie’s face beamed with joy.

He was unsure how it had all happened—first, Lord Dou had visited that day, and then he’d encountered Cui Yuzhe of the Qinghe Cui clan, who promised to seek his family’s help in resolving the long-standing rift between the Li and Cui families.

It was truly a double blessing!

“Thank you, Yuzhe! If you have time in the future, please visit the Li Residence more often!” Lady Li said, her face alight with a smile.

Seeing Cui Yuzhe nod and assure them repeatedly, he and Fu Zihou saluted before turning to leave. Lady Li instructed her daughter-in-law, Madam Bao, to escort the siblings to the main gate.

At that moment, as the siblings’ figures receded, Lady Li, Li Jingjie, and the others—including Madam Zhou—all turned their gaze to Fu Zihou.

The feud between Li Residence’s fourth son and Cui Yuzhe’s uncle dated back seven or eight years. The rivalry between the two had long created discord between the Li and Cui families, and it was no secret within the Li household.

But over the years, the Li family could not visit, and outsiders were unwilling to intervene, leaving the matter unresolved.

“Hou’er! Did you say something to Cui Yuzhe? Why is he willing to mediate between our families now?” Lady Li was the first to speak, her aged face filled with suspicion. She was certain Cui Yuzhe would not help without reason, and it must be connected to Fu Zihou.

“Lady Li, Brother Cui overlooked my humble origins and befriended me, so I brought up the matter and he agreed to help,” Fu Zihou answered, smiling at Lady Li’s puzzled look. Then he glanced a few steps away at Li Cha, who was hiding beside Grand Aunt Changsun.

“Truth be told, it’s all thanks to Cha’er! If I hadn’t gone to buy her a hairpin, I wouldn’t have met Brother Cui of the Qinghe Cui clan in Ti County and become friends with him.”

Fu Zihou looked at Li Cha, his words openly expressing his gratitude.

He meant it sincerely; he had never imagined he would make the acquaintance of another noble scion in such a manner.

Had he not purchased the hairpin for Li Cha, Cui Wenjin would not have chased after him.

Given the Li family’s current predicament, even with their help, Fu Zihou would have had no chance to meet the Cui siblings, let alone cooperate with them.

Without the Cui clan’s name, Fu Zihou would never dare to trade with the Xie family.

The Fu family was far too insignificant compared to the Chenjun Xie family—like a toddler clutching a gold brick in a bustling market, vulnerable to any villain who might snatch it away.

“Friends?” Li Jingjie frowned slightly upon hearing Fu Zihou’s words.

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Previously, Cui Lüxing of the Boling Cui clan had claimed to be Fu Zihou’s friend at the Li Residence, though he and his mother had seen through that. But now, the departing Cui Yuzhe was truly a scion of the Qinghe Cui clan, and—most importantly—he bore not the slightest ill intent.

This dear nephew had actually befriended Cui Yuzhe; Li Jingjie could hardly believe it.

How strange!

That Cui Yuzhe actually esteemed Fu Zihou, the nephew from the Fu family!

“It’s getting late, Lady Li. I have important matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave. In a few days, I’ll come to see Cha’er again,” Fu Zihou said, seeing Li Cha lower her head in fluster, his gaze meeting Lady Li’s.

He offered no further explanation and took his leave.

Throughout the visit, Fu Zihou never mentioned his cooperation with the Xie family or the plan to avenge Li Residence’s third son.

He knew that speaking of matters before their fruition would only worry Lady Li, without helping in the slightest.

It was better to let Lady Li and Madam Bao remain unaware, living their days free of worry.

“So soon?” Lady Li said, a little helpless, her eyes reproachful as she looked at Fu Zihou.

Fu Zihou could only smile awkwardly and said nothing.

The so-called help promised by Cui Yuzhe depended on the wine—only after tasting it and confirming he had not deceived the siblings would things proceed. For now, Fu Zihou needed to hurry home to prepare.

“In the future, come to the Li Residence often! Treat it as your own home!” Lady Li urged warmly.

“I will remember,” Fu Zihou replied, nodding. As he turned, he caught Li Cha’s gaze; she quickly lowered her head in panic upon seeing him.

Fu Zihou couldn’t help but smile, unconcerned, and left the Li Residence.

In the front courtyard, Changsun Nonggui watched Fu Zihou’s departing figure leave through the flower garden, then turned to Li Cha.

“Cha’er, everything about you is in his heart. Surely you could tell that his words just now were meant for you,” Changsun Nonggui said softly.

Seeing her daughter unwilling even to meet her husband Li Liyan, Changsun Nonggui felt complicated emotions. Though Li Cha’s plight was pitiful, thinking of Fu Zihou, she found herself unable to voice her thoughts.

She looked at the exquisite hairpin in Li Cha’s hair, recalling how Cui Wenjin of the Qinghe Cui clan had left in tears and how even Li Cha seemed lost when gazing at the hairpin. More importantly, every word she spoke about Li Cha was remembered by Fu Zihou.

Now, even Changsun Nonggui herself felt a touch of envy for Li Cha. Perhaps Li Cha had suffered much, but in matters of her husband, she had never endured hardship—indeed, she was enviable.

Beside her, Li Cha, head bowed, heard her stepmother’s words but did not reply. Yet she clutched her stepmother’s sleeve, and quietly lifted her eyes to glance toward the flower garden.

...

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Fu Residence.

Over the next two days, Fu Zihou found several carpenters in the city, each instructed to build wooden implements according to his drawings. He then assembled a simple wooden shed in the unused front courtyard at home.

He bought herbs from the pharmacy and carried baskets of wild grass from outside the city.

His actions left Old Master, Old Liu, Madam Zhang, Madam Tao, and others utterly confused—especially as Fu Zihou forbade them from entering the wooden shed.

It wasn’t until they saw him move grain, firewood, and finally brewing equipment into the front courtyard that they realized what he intended.

“Hou’er, where did you get the money?”

“Hou’er, where’s your sword? I haven’t seen it in days!”

“Hey now, Hou’er, don’t waste the grain! Have you ever brewed wine before?”

Fu Zihou ignored their questions and focused on his task.

Fortunately, he had experience. In his previous life, a northern roommate had boasted about the wine of his homeland—pure and natural—and had demonstrated its making. Fu Zihou had been deeply impressed and memorized the method.

Now, with little time, Fu Zihou did not aim for a perfect replica.

In this era, even if the wine was not flawless, achieving seventy or eighty percent of that previous taste would be enough to astonish others.

Even centuries later, Green Ant Wine would still be common. Bai Juyi, Du Fu, and others wrote it into poetry, and the famed poetess Li Qingzhao composed two poems featuring Green Ant Wine.

Anyone familiar with those verses knew Green Ant Wine remained integral to everyday life.

From Fu Zihou’s understanding, most places made “wine” by placing grain and starter in a large water-filled vat, waiting for fermentation, then adding lime to halt the process. The resulting wine had floating dregs and was called turbid wine—a common variety.

Poets of later generations often filtered wine with headscarves.

During the Sui dynasty, after centuries of war and famine, many regions lacked enough grain even to survive, let alone to brew wine.

Wine surpassing turbid or Green Ant Wine was reserved for officials, nobles, and the imperial clan.

Moreover, after the Han dynasty, brewing techniques stagnated for three centuries due to the chaos, only reviving in the early Kaihuang era. Yet as more fields were reported to the government, Emperor Wen of Sui began to levy grain heavily, plunging the populace into hardship again. By the Daye era, famine was everywhere.

If Fu Zihou guessed correctly, the next revival of brewing techniques would come only with the advent of prosperity.

In the simple wooden shed, Fu Zihou started the process: he placed the purchased rice into water, lit the firewood beneath the iron pot.

“According to history, Yang Guang’s tastes don’t require surpassing all Sui dynasty wines. As long as mine secures a place among the finest, that will suffice! The Xie family cannot refuse!”

Watching the fire crackle on the stove, Fu Zihou knew that his agreement with the Cui siblings, his negotiations with the Xie family, and the vengeance for Li Residence’s third son all depended on this batch of wine—whether it could be brewed successfully.

As long as it was unique, and the Xie family knew Yang Guang would favor it, that would be enough!

Sometimes, excellence can be a curse—Fu Zihou always remembered: “When water is full, it overflows; when the moon is full, it begins to wane.”