Chapter 11: The Prestige System and System Shop Unlocked

The next day, just as Du Chengfeng was thinking of going to check on the progress at the distillery, a familiar electronic chime sounded in his mind: "Ding, congratulations, host. The Reputation System is now active. Reputation points increased by 5000. System Store unlocked—please check at your convenience."

“The Reputation System and the System Store are finally open! This is wonderful.” Du Chengfeng was ecstatic, barely able to contain his excitement. He had been waiting for days, and at last, it had happened.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he eagerly opened the Reputation System. As before, a blue electronic screen appeared, but now there was an additional personal information tab. Out of curiosity, Du Chengfeng clicked on it.

Host: Du Chengfeng.

Reputation Points: 5000.

Empire System Level: 1.

Merit Achievement Rank: Junior Commander.

Personal Combat Power: 20,000.

Personal Items: MP5 submachine gun (upgradeable), tungsten steel dagger, bulletproof vest, rice seeds, etc.

Du Chengfeng then opened the System Store. The interface looked both grand and modern, with a dazzling array of goods. There were detailed categories: Education, Technology, Weapons, Daily Life, and more. Most items were grayed out, with only a handful available for purchase—those that were lit up.

Beneath each, the required reputation points for purchase were clearly marked.

He scanned the available options: Improved Papermaking—1000 reputation points. Not bad, he thought. Paper was so expensive in this era that most poor people couldn’t afford to study.

Thus, scholars were mostly from the five great surnames and prominent clans, which meant the court was always under their control. With this, he could eventually dismantle those powerful families. He decided to keep this option for now.

Scrolling further, he saw Cement Manufacturing—2000 points; Steel Smelting—5000 points; Petroleum Refining—5000 points, and so on.

The technologies initially available were all highly practical for civilian life and epoch-making—invaluable for the Great Tang of today.

The system’s thoughtfulness and user-friendliness truly impressed him—it always seemed to offer just what he needed. Du Chengfeng silently gave the system a mental thumbs-up.

It seemed, he mused, that anything produced by the system was bound to be first-rate. This golden finger of his was almost too powerful.

Yet, he reminded himself, he couldn’t become too reliant on the system. True strength lay in one’s own ability; the system was only a support. Still, he felt the Reputation System was particularly impressive.

He reasoned that the Reputation System had activated so quickly because the two pieces of calligraphy he’d written for Manager Lu had been spreading across Chang’an.

For now, he decided not to exchange for any civilian technologies in the store—it wasn’t the right time yet.

At Wangjiang Tower in Chang’an, scholars and literati poured in, all eager to admire Du Chengfeng’s calligraphy. Manager Lu stood behind the counter, his face beaming with delight, his smile nearly splitting his cheeks. The 500 strings of copper coins he’d given Du Chengfeng had been more than worth it, he thought.

On the very day, Manager Lu had the newly mounted calligraphy hung in the main hall of Wangjiang Tower. The scholars and gentlemen gathered there were immediately captivated by Du Chengfeng’s uniquely elegant “slender gold script.”

Though the script was delicate, it stood tall like mountain peaks; the strokes were as strong as iron hooks and silver lines, the slanting peaks like orchids and bamboo, mesmerizing all who beheld it.

Some paused to appreciate it, others tried to imitate it, and many were humbled. Upon learning that the author was a mere youth of eighteen, they exclaimed in disbelief at such talent.

But beyond their passion for calligraphy, they realized that the couplet Du Chengfeng had composed was perfectly tailored for Wangjiang Tower. The more they pondered it, the more they marveled at its brilliance.

The tower and the river were real, unchanging sights, resonating with the everlasting theme in the couplet. “Tower” and “river” rhymed, as did “pavilion” and “sound of reading”—each pairing evoking both the enduring and the immediate, the dynamic and the still, the ancient and the contemporary.

Had Du Chengfeng been present, he surely would have laughed: This is a masterpiece for the ages, revealed ahead of its time. If it doesn’t dazzle you, how else am I to earn my reputation points? This was precisely the effect he wanted—astonishment was the currency of reputation.

The seven-character poem, which Manager Lu claimed had been composed on the spot, was also highly praised by all.

Such literary talent and calligraphic skill, coming from an obscure young man, inspired awe and admiration as boundless as a river in flood.

Even the most renowned calligraphers of the Tang—Chu Suiliang, Ouyang Xun, and Yu Shinan—came in person to study and copy the calligraphy upon hearing of it.

Yet despite their efforts, they all felt something was missing; the form was there, but the spirit was lost. If even the three great masters struggled, lesser hands fared no better.

Soon, people begged Manager Lu to arrange a meeting with the mysterious calligrapher for the sake of artistic exchange. Manager Lu always found some excuse—such matters, after all, were best shrouded in mystique.

Disappointed, the three great calligraphers left, sighing and listless, with little appetite for food or drink.

So word spread from ten to a hundred, from a hundred to a thousand, and ever more people came to see. With such crowds, it was impossible for everyone to stand, so many chose to dine and lodge at the tower. Thanks to Du Chengfeng’s calligraphy, Wangjiang Tower’s profits soared.

And all this, even before the Immortal Wine was officially for sale. Manager Lu increasingly admired his own foresight in discovering this treasure that was Du Chengfeng.

Du Chengfeng witnessed none of this. He only noticed that from the afternoon onward, his reputation points had been steadily climbing.

Three days later, Wang Zhuo and Manager Lu arrived as promised. Thanks to the villagers’ tireless work, the distillery had processed the first batch of over a thousand jars of Immortal Wine.

Du Chengfeng let them each take five hundred jars, collected the copper coins into his system space, and then realized that the supply of base liquor for refining was running low. Once again, he would have to make a trip to Chang’an.

But this endless back-and-forth was becoming tiresome. Perhaps it was time to buy a house in Chang’an, he mused. Now that money was no longer an issue, he could ask Manager Lu to help find a property.

Du Family Village would serve as a rear base and production site. He couldn’t spend all his time here—how else would he raise his reputation points?

The distillery was still being expanded and reinforced, the rice field transformation wasn’t finished, so he couldn’t leave just yet.

Of all the villagers, only Grandpa Du’s family could truly be trusted. Perhaps he should let Uncle Dazhu oversee the distillery as well—it would be a way to repay them.

With this in mind, Du Chengfeng sent for Uncle Dazhu. By now, everyone in the village knew that Du Chengfeng’s Immortal Wine was being sold in Chang’an and Luoyang.

Whenever villagers saw Wang Zhuo and Manager Lu’s carts hauling away jar after jar of wine, it was as if they glimpsed the dawn of a better life. No one regarded Du Chengfeng as the awkward boy he once was.

Though few understood how he had suddenly become so capable, it didn’t stop them from looking at him with newfound admiration.

With so many people seeing the benefits, more and more came to register for work with Uncle Dazhu. As Du Chengfeng had instructed, anyone from the village who wanted to join the distillery was welcome.

Uncle Dazhu was kept busy, registering workers and watching over the distillery, working tirelessly yet happily. Though exhausting, he found it deeply fulfilling. His wages, more than double that of others, made him smile even in his sleep—he knew Du Chengfeng was looking out for him.

When someone from the village came to tell him Du Chengfeng was looking for him, Uncle Dazhu’s face lit up with excitement. He dashed to Du Chengfeng’s door with the vigor of a much younger man.

Still catching his breath, Uncle Dazhu patted his chest and declared, “Chengfeng, you need me? Whatever it is, just say the word—I’ll see it done.”

Touched by his sincerity, Du Chengfeng remembered how only Grandpa Du’s family had cared for him when he was young. They weren’t true relatives, but as a former soldier, he knew well the value of gratitude.

“Uncle Dazhu, in a few days I’ll buy a house in Chang’an. From then on, you’ll be in charge of managing the distillery, as well as purchasing base liquor. The distillery will continue expanding, so you’ll be busy for a while. Your wage was 100 coins a day—I’ll raise it to 200. Is that all right?” Du Chengfeng said calmly.

“What? You want me to manage the distillery alone, and pay me 200 coins a day? Chengfeng, you’re not joking?” Uncle Dazhu’s mouth hung open in disbelief. It seemed too good to be true for an ordinary man like him.

Six strings of coins a month, over seventy a year—and with his wife working at the distillery too, he would become a small landowner in time.

“Uncle Dazhu, I’m not joking. You looked after me when I was young; now this is only right. There’s no need to be polite. Once I’m settled in Chang’an, all the refined wine will be shipped there. In a bit, come to my room for 300 strings as working capital for buying base liquor. When it runs out, just ask for more,” Du Chengfeng said sincerely.

“All right then, Chengfeng, I won’t stand on ceremony. I promise, I’ll run the distillery well.” Realizing Chengfeng was serious, Uncle Dazhu set aside his modesty.

“Good, then go ahead. If I need you, I’ll call. I have to go guide the rice planting,” Du Chengfeng instructed.

“Understood, Chengfeng. I’ll get back to work—the whole village is counting on you.” Uncle Dazhu grinned as he left.

After Uncle Dazhu departed, Du Chengfeng checked the system panel—his reputation points were close to 10,000, and nearly a thousand clone soldiers had been produced.

He considered the risks and decided to station a hundred clone soldiers around the distillery for protection and to keep the villagers safe.

“System, dispatch a hundred clone soldiers to guard the area around the distillery. Make sure they stay hidden,” Du Chengfeng commanded.

“Yes, host,” the system replied.

“Little brother, you’re letting Uncle Dazhu run the distillery—what about me?” Du Wen complained, a little aggrieved at seeing his younger brother pay Uncle Dazhu so much to oversee the operation while he was left on the sidelines. He felt his brother was playing favorites.

Seeing his elder brother’s displeasure, Du Chengfeng quickly reassured him, “Don’t worry, big brother. The distillery will be yours to run eventually—Uncle Dazhu is just looking after it for now. The refining process for Immortal Wine isn’t complicated; you should learn it first. When you take over, you’ll be ready. But remember, this is top secret—no one else must know, understand?”

“All right, I got it, little brother. I’ll keep the secret.” With his brother’s promise, Du Wen’s face broke into a smile once more.