Chapter Sixty-One: The Dream Pavilion

A few scattered stars hung above the frontier, wild geese passing through the border, and a single note from a long flute echoed as a man leaned against the terrace.

Wei Renshi stood alone by the railing of the shopfront, gazing down at the busy street below, where people still came and went, feeling a sudden, inexplicable sense of solitude.

He was different from everyone else.

Especially when he looked up at those familiar constellations above and thought of his own self, twelve hundred years in the future, who had once gazed upon this very scene.

His own self, twelve hundred years hence… What a strange notion.

He gave a wry chuckle, shaking his head in self-mockery.

Footsteps sounded behind him, ascending steadily.

Wei Renshi turned to see Sun Peng coming up.

“Master, there’s something about the tavern I’d like to discuss,” Sun Peng said, bowing as he approached.

Wei Renshi rubbed his face and smiled, “Go ahead.”

“This shop was originally a restaurant, so there’s little to change. With a good cleaning and a touch of arrangement, we can use it as is,” Sun Peng explained. “Today I’ve already hired people to clean it up. We could open to customers as soon as tomorrow. However, the tavern’s name is still undecided, and that must be chosen by you, Master. Also, I was thinking, since the premises are so large—a fully equipped restaurant—it’d be a shame just to sell wine. Why not hire a cook and some serving girls, and open as a proper wine-house?”

Wei Renshi had already considered this, so he nodded. “Very well. Take charge of it.”

Sun Peng beamed. “That just leaves the name. Once you decide, I’ll have the banner made and hung up at once!”

The so-called banner was the flag that hung outside a wine-house, bearing the large character for “wine.” Such banners, also known as wine flags, wine curtains, or green flags, would bear the shop’s name and either be hung above the entrance, from the eaves, or even on a separate pole so that the flag could flutter in the wind, drawing in customers.

In fact, these banners were somewhat akin to the “stars” of modern hotels. A single token meant a snack shop, serving a few simple dishes with no choice—everyone ate the same. Two tokens denoted a basic eatery, with a menu and the ability to prepare most dishes. There were no three-token banners, as the pronunciation was too close to “lie,” which sounded inauspicious. Four tokens signified a large restaurant, capable of serving an entire regional cuisine, like the Lanchang House in the county town, whose banner bore four tokens. Five tokens marked the most impressive establishments—full-service restaurants and taverns, with superb wine and master chefs.

The banner also served another key function: its raising or lowering indicated whether the house had wine available, or whether it was open for business.

If it was purely a tavern, only the banner and the large character for “wine” hung, with no tokens beneath—signifying wine only, no food. Old Sun’s little wine hut had been just such a place: a spot to sit, sip a drink, and rest one’s feet.

“Master, what shall we call our wine-house?” Sun Peng prompted again, seeing that Wei Renshi hadn’t replied at once.

“We’ll start with two tokens on the banner; we can’t find a top chef right away. When we have one, we’ll change it to five,” Wei Renshi said. “As for the name…”

He looked up, allowing his gaze to linger a moment on the familiar stars, then said, “A dream of a thousand years, a thousand years in a dream—let’s call it ‘The Dreaming House.’”

“The Dreaming House?” Sun Peng found the name odd, and didn’t grasp the meaning behind Wei Renshi’s words, but he didn’t question it further. “Very well, I’ll have the banner made and hung tomorrow.”

Wei Renshi nodded. “Also, make a vertical plaque to hang, inscribed ‘Wei’s Winehouse.’”

“Yes, sir,” Sun Peng replied, then continued, “The icehouse has been tidied up too. The backyard isn’t large, but it’s enough to dig a cellar for the ice. If we make it deep, it’ll be fine. Another day or two and it’ll be done. My wife will go over tomorrow to arrange the front.”

“Good,” Wei Renshi said. “You should get some rest.”

The two of them went downstairs to the rear courtyard and returned to their rooms.

The night passed quietly, though Xi’er still didn’t dare sleep alone, and continued to hide in Wei Renshi’s room.

Early the next morning, everyone rose and set to work again.

When Wei Renshi and a few others hauled their wine out to the thatched hut by the Dingding Gate, they found a large crowd already gathered—people who’d heard tales of the “Three Bowls Before Entering the City” challenge and had come specifically to try their luck.

They set out the wine once more, and Sun Youqing and Sun Youquan began calling out just as they had the day before.

The “Three Bowls Before Entering the City” banner fluttered open, and instantly a crowd surged to the tables.

“I’ve never been drunk in my life. I hear this young master has made a bold claim here—I must try it myself!” declared a wiry man, stepping forward to address Wei Renshi.

Wei Renshi said nothing more, just smiled as he opened a jar and poured out three bowls of wine.

At once, the rich aroma drifted through the air, causing the challengers to sniff hungrily.

The wiry man grabbed a bowl and drank at once, but was immediately overwhelmed by the strength, coughing several times. “Whew! That’s strong wine! But it won’t defeat me!”

He raised the second bowl, drinking more slowly this time, but drained it.

After the first bowl, his vision blurred; after the second, his head spun; after the third, he let out a drunken belch, exclaimed, “This really is strong and fragrant wine!”—and collapsed to the ground.

The onlookers burst into laughter, but soon another challenger stepped forward.

“Young master, it seems they’re not here to challenge, but just to get free wine!” Old Sun whispered to Wei Renshi inside the hut.

Wei Renshi laughed. “That just proves our wine is a success.”

All morning, not a single person managed to drink the three bowls and then walk through the Dingding Gate.

Wei Renshi thought to himself that these three bowls had been specially chosen: they looked small, but could hold quite a lot—together, more than a catty of wine. Even among modern heavy drinkers, few could down that much high-proof liquor in one go and remain sober. How much more so for these Tang Dynasty folk, who’d never tasted such spirits?

In the future, when more people grew used to strong liquor, there would surely be those who could do it, but for now, they were rare.

Even if someone did manage it, it was only ten jars of wine, a hundred strings of cash—a pittance compared to the reputation to be gained. Such a small advertising cost for such great effect—it was truly worth it.

“Hahaha! I heard Wei’s Spirits has set up a ‘Three Bowls Before Entering the City’ challenge outside Dingding Gate—I simply had to come see for myself!” Just as this thought crossed his mind, a familiar voice rang out, reaching Wei Renshi’s ears.