Chapter Sixty-Eight: Grand Opening

With the red lanterns hung and the auspicious signs in place, Wei Renshi’s Dream Pavilion was now officially open for business.

As he walked across the creaking stairs within the building, Wei Renshi felt a particular sense of contentment. On this most propitious of days, even the chosen hour was nearly upon them.

Sun Peng made his way to the entrance, where he personally lit a brazier, tossing in a handful of bamboo tubes no thicker than a finger. Soon, the brazier crackled and popped with a series of sharp explosions. Watching from the upper floor, Wei Renshi could not help but laugh at the modest spectacle—these so-called “firecrackers” of the present day felt rather unimpressive.

Of course, no celebration would be complete without a bit of performance. The raucous clangs of music and acrobatics drew cheers and applause from the crowd that had gathered.

“Ladies and gentlemen, today marks the grand opening of Wei’s White Spirits Dream Pavilion! Everything—food and drink alike—is offered at a thirty percent discount!” Sun Peng announced from the steps before the pavilion, bowing respectfully to the throng below.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a loud voice called out from the side: “Zhang Gan of Luoyang City congratulates Dream Pavilion on its auspicious opening!”

Through the crowd came a group of men bearing several large chests, arriving at the pavilion’s entrance.

“Brother Zhang!” Sun Peng hurried forward to greet him with a smile. “Our proprietor was just saying yesterday that you’d surely be the first to arrive today!”

Wei Renshi, having stepped outside by now, bowed to Zhang Gan and said, “Many thanks, Brother Zhang, for honoring us today. I’ve prepared fine wine already—please, come in!”

“Brother Wei, congratulations!” Zhang Gan returned the bow, leading his companions inside alongside Wei Renshi.

Hardly had they entered and begun settling their guests when another shout arose from outside: “The Jiao Family Trading House of the Northern Market wishes Dream Pavilion boundless prosperity!”

“Haha, Brother Wei, you’d best go greet your guests—we’ll be just fine,” Zhang Gan laughed.

Wei Renshi excused himself and stepped out. Sun Peng was already welcoming the newcomers with a broad smile, addressing Manager Tian, “Many thanks for coming to support us—please, come in!”

Wei Renshi joined in, bowing in gratitude, “Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Manager Tian—please, come in!”

“A small token, hardly worth mentioning,” Manager Tian gestured to the chests behind him with a smile. “Congratulations, Young Master Wei!”

After escorting Manager Tian inside, Wei Renshi felt that the formalities were more or less complete.

He doubted anyone else of note would arrive. But before he could instruct the kitchen to prepare refreshments for Zhang Gan and Manager Tian’s private table, yet another group appeared at the door.

At their head, a man called out, “Where’s that boy Wei? On such a day, why isn’t he here to greet us?”

Wei Renshi recognized the voice, and to his astonishment hurried over, saluting respectfully. “Your student greets you, Scholar Zhang! I never expected you would honor us in person today—please, all of you, come in!”

Scholar Zhang smiled. “We poor scholars have little to offer in the way of gifts. Perhaps we might compose a poem for your new establishment instead?”

Wei Renshi was overjoyed and immediately called for ink and brushes to be brought.

“No rush,” another elder interjected, stopping Wei Renshi. “Let’s first see what this wine of yours is really like. Yesterday, a man named Zhang hoarded it for himself and wouldn’t let us taste so much as a drop. We old fellows have yet to sample it. We’ll write our verses after we’ve had a taste.”

“I assure you, gentlemen, you will not be disappointed,” Wei Renshi replied with a smile. “Please, sirs—let me show you upstairs.”

Sun Peng bent low in a respectful bow, leading the group up and announcing in a ringing voice, “This way for the distinguished scholars of the Imperial Academy!”

His clear call was heard by the crowds outside—a great honor, indeed.

The scholars of the Imperial Academy were men of the highest standing within the literary world. For so many to visit together on opening day conferred an extraordinary prestige upon Dream Pavilion. There were plenty of restaurants and taverns in Luoyang, and it was not uncommon for scholars to dine at such places, but for so many to come together on opening day—this was unprecedented.

Sun Peng led the scholars to their private room upstairs, while Wei Renshi hurried to fetch Li He to entertain them. First, it would give Li He an opportunity. Second, aside from himself and Li He, no one else was fit to keep such company; the conversation of these scholars would be beyond the understanding of most.

Ever since the challenge outside Dingding Gate with the “three bowls and you cannot enter the city” contest, Wei’s White Spirits had become well known across Luoyang. A few days before opening, Wei Renshi had Sun Peng spread the word throughout the city. Concerned that not everyone could read posted notices, Wei Renshi hired criers to shout the news in the streets, thus reaching an even broader audience.

As a result, many people arrived to witness the grand opening, eager to see what made Wei’s White Spirits so renowned.

Wei Renshi, worried the people of Tang might not be accustomed to high-proof spirits, had blended the drinks to a lower alcohol content at first, planning a gradual introduction.

Still, anticipating that some would be curious to try the stronger spirits, he had also prepared several varieties at different strengths, in addition to the famed “three bowls and you cannot enter the city,” offering three more grades from strongest to mildest to suit all palates.

The opening day went smoothly.

The Tang people’s openness to new things surprised Wei Renshi. If the earlier innovations—such as the new plow, damming silt fields, or improving saline land—had been quickly accepted because they benefited the common folk, then this new white spirit was a testament to the era’s enlightenment.

Such keen curiosity and rapid acceptance of novelty was, indeed, a mark of a civilized and progressive age.

For several days, Dream Pavilion was packed to capacity.

The reputation of Wei’s White Spirits—clear as water, yet both aromatic and strong—grew ever larger, drawing even more patrons. The superior quality of the spirits, unmatched by anything else on the market, ensured a steady stream of returning customers.

Since opening, the staff of Dream Pavilion had been worked to exhaustion. But with the promise of generous bonuses at month’s end, everyone was motivated to give their best.

Wei Renshi himself had not been idle. Over the past several nights, he worked late into the night to complete the scripts for storytelling performances, finally managing to finish a few episodes. Much had to be adapted to suit the times, and every detail carefully considered to avoid offending the authorities, so progress was slow.

On the last day of the grand opening discount, after the singing girls had retired from the stage, the patrons noticed something different from previous nights.

A simple, rustic square table was carried onto the stage. Upon it lay a judge’s gavel, and a man in a scholar’s robe stepped up. In his hand was a short wooden stick, which he struck against his left palm, then, with a graceful flick of two fingers, unfurled an object that resembled a fan—though more refined and elegant than any fan seen before, ethereal and otherworldly.

“What is that?” a scholar in the audience asked.

No one present had ever seen such a thing; all shook their heads in wonder.