Chapter Thirty-Five: An Ungrateful Son Drives His Father to Fury

Fang Xuanling was never a heavy drinker. While he occasionally shared a few cups with Li Shimin, those were always the finest tribute wines. Throughout the Tang Dynasty, they had never encountered spirits of such high concentration.

This was his first experience. The moment the cup touched his lips, the liquid felt like liquid fire, burning all the way from his throat to his stomach. Fang Xuanling’s mouth hung wide open, as if he were about to breathe flames. The tavern attendant was startled by the sight.

"Lord Fang, are you alright?" the attendant asked in a panic, even calling for water as he noticed Fang Xuanling’s face flush a deep, alarming red. He had never seen such a reaction before; even with other strong spirits, it had never been this severe.

Fang Xuanling was nearly floored by that single cup. It took a long while for him to regain his composure. "Good heavens! The potency of this wine is at least tenfold that of anything I’ve had before. It nearly tore through my gut!"

Fang Xuanling refused the water; he didn't want to wash away the lingering, fragrant aftertaste. Regrettably, he didn't have much money on him, so he pulled out another hundred taels of silver to purchase a second jar.

News of the events at the tavern spread rapidly to every corner of Chang’an. Before long, crowds swarmed the establishment, buying the wine jar after jar until the stock was depleted. The attendants were in disbelief—each jar cost a hundred taels of silver. In less than half a day, they had brought in several thousand taels, while their other, ordinary wines remained largely untouched. Commoners could only look on with envy, and some who had caught a whiff of the aroma earlier were still reeling from the intoxicating scent.

Rumors travel fast in Chang’an. With a figure like Fang Xuanling involved, many high-ranking officials and nobles realized that this wine was no ordinary brew. If Cheng Yaojin dared to set such an exorbitant price, there must be a reason for it, and the quality of the wine certainly justified it. Fearing they might miss out, many patrons bought ten jars at a time.

At his residence, Cheng Yaojin was completely unaware of the commotion. It wasn't until one of his men rushed over in a panic to report the situation that he learned the truth.

"What? You mean to tell me that ten-jin jars of wine were sold for a hundred taels each and were completely snatched up?" Cheng Yaojin found it hard to believe. He hadn't even known the price initially, as he had left all the tavern operations to his son, Cheng Chumou. To think that even at such a price, the stock had been completely cleared out—it was truly inconceivable.

The subordinate dared not hide anything, relaying every detail: from the morning until now, not even a full day had passed, yet all the jars were gone, and thousands of taels had been collected. However, they would only receive a small portion of the profit, as the majority belonged to Su Chen.

"Hurry! Quickly, take me to the tavern!"

Even Fang Xuanling had praised the wine, declaring it worth every bit of the hundred taels. This made Cheng Yaojin realize that something was truly special. If it had been anyone else, he might have suspected a trick played by his son, but coming from Fang Xuanling, it had to be genuine.

By the time Cheng Yaojin arrived at the tavern, all the wine was gone. Even the very last jar had been claimed by someone else.

"How could you sell every last drop? You didn't even save one for me! I don't even know what the wine tastes like!" Cheng Yaojin roared in frustration.

The attendants were stunned. They had assumed the wine was supplied by Cheng Yaojin himself, as he had always delegated the tavern’s affairs to his son. They never imagined that their own master had yet to taste a drop.

One quick-witted attendant suddenly remembered the cup left behind by Fang Xuanling. There was still half a cup left—Fang had intended to have a second serving but had only managed to finish half. The attendant had tucked it away under the table, hoping to sample it himself once the shift ended. Seeing his master’s rage, he hurriedly brought it out.

"Master, I… I secretly saved half a cup…"

Before the attendant could finish, Cheng Yaojin snatched the cup and downed it in one gulp. It felt like a streak of molten flame sliding down his throat, leaving a trail of fire in his stomach. Even that measly half-cup left Cheng Yaojin feeling the intense heat.

"My goodness! Incredible, absolutely incredible! Where on earth did this wine come from?" Cheng Yaojin demanded.

Previously, they had only been told that a batch of wine had arrived, but they were ignorant of its origins. Only now did he hear the attendants mention that it had been brought over from the Su household, all according to Cheng Chumou’s instructions. Cheng Yaojin had given his consent to open a special counter for them in the tavern, but he had dismissed it at the time, thinking it was just a game for Su Chen.

He smacked his forehead in realization. Now, with thousands of taels of silver before him and the lingering burn of that half-cup of wine, he knew he had miscalculated. A wine this good was worth a hundred taels for ten jin—even at two hundred, people would still buy it.

The tavern was still packed with people asking for the wine, known as "Taibai Drunkenness." Some of those who had bought a jar earlier and tasted its quality had rushed back to buy more, only to find the shelves empty. Cheng Yaojin and his men stepped out of the tavern, constantly accosted by customers asking when the next batch would arrive. The attendants, having no word from the suppliers, dared not make any promises.

Cheng Yaojin was impatient; he was dying to find a few more jars of Taibai Drunkenness so he could enjoy a proper drink.

"My son is undutiful, so I must teach him a lesson! And why does this little fellow Su Chen not know how to show respect to his elders? Come with me to the medical clinic!"

Cheng Yaojin stormed off toward Su Chen’s clinic with his men in tow. If his son was unfilial, he would blame it on his thick-headedness, but for a bright lad like Su Chen to neglect him was simply unacceptable. Fueled by indignation, Cheng Yaojin marched through the streets of Chang’an, arriving at the entrance of the clinic in a fury.