Chapter 40

After Songshi finished speaking, she stood up.

"Xizi, you think about it carefully.

If you agree, first give this wine a good name. When the wine jars from Xiangfujū arrive, send a few jars to your father. Although Changping County is currently unstable, the Mid-Autumn Festival is approaching, and it’s a good time to help your father build a reputation."

Yang Shouwen understood!

Songshi was planning to take a high-end approach, targeting the upper class.

However, the name for the wine...

Yang Shouwen furrowed his brow, feeling a bit troubled. He sat on the porch, watching his young daughter, Youniang, playfully tease the dog in the sunlight. A flash of inspiration struck him, and he suddenly smiled.

"Youniang, come here."

"Xizi brother, what’s the matter?"

Yang Shouwen studied Youniang for a moment, then suddenly reached out and rubbed her face.

"Xizi brother, stop it!" Youniang pouted.

Yang Shouwen smiled and said, "Hua Xiang Rong, let’s call it Qingping Diao... Youniang, remember, if you ever see Qingping Diao in the market, it’s a gift from Xizi brother. This is our secret, okay?"

Youniang’s eyes widened, her face full of confusion.

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At lunchtime, after drinking just a little from the jar, Songshi couldn’t hold it anymore.

This wine wasn’t like the usual wine she drank. After distillation, it was smooth and had a strong aftertaste. Songshi drank two bowls and went to sleep. The remaining wine was mostly consumed by Yang Molili. The jar contained about twenty pounds of wine.

After distillation, the alcohol content was around twenty to thirty degrees, which was quite astonishing compared to the wine of this era. However, Yang Molili seemed completely unaffected, drinking the entire jar without any signs of intoxication. She even helped clean the courtyard and played at the door, looking perfectly fine.

She’s a real drinker!

Yang Shouwen was also very surprised, but didn’t think too much about it.

In the afternoon, after a short nap, Yang Shouwen was visited by Yang Rui, who brought a hundred white porcelain jars.

The porcelain of this era wasn’t particularly exquisite.

Only after the passage of time did Tang Dynasty ceramics truly shine. The white porcelain Yang Rui bought could be considered a fine product of this era, but it wasn’t enough to shock Yang Shouwen. In his previous life, he had seen a piece of porcelain from the Xuanzong era, which indeed exuded a grandeur.

However, that was during the peak of the Tang Dynasty, a time of prosperity and global influence, so the craftsmanship naturally reflected that grandeur. Now, under Wu Zhaos’s rule, although the country was peaceful, the loss in foreign wars had given the ceramics a slightly more delicate and feminine feel.

Perhaps this was a drawback of a female ruler?

Yang Shouwen didn’t care about such things.

He was only concerned about whether he and those around him could live a better life.

"Brother, I’ve bought all the white porcelain from Xiangfujū. There won’t be any more for a while. Is this enough? If not, we need to place an order in advance, as it will take some time for them to restock from the Central Plains."

"Um, it’s enough for now!"

Yang Shouwen looked at the rows of white porcelain, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Filling all these jars would be a massive task.

He suddenly realized he had created a huge hassle for himself... He had been hesitant about whether to let Songshi manage Hua Xiang Rong. Now, it seemed that letting Songshi handle it might be the best choice.

Hmm... The thought of spending his days distilling wine in the shed made Yang Shouwen shudder.

That night, Songshi was still drunk, and Yang Rui and Qingnu were asleep.

After checking the safety of the house, Yang Shouwen returned to his room.

He had just sat down when there was a gentle knock on the door.

The door opened a crack, and a small head peeked in, saying with a pout, "Xizi brother, you haven’t told Youniang the monkey stories in a long time."

Yang Shouwen’s face softened into a gentle smile, and he beckoned to Youniang.

Youniang giggled and darted in like a little monkey, followed by four puppies.

"Youniang, aren’t you sleepy?"

"Not sleepy!"

Youniang lay next to Yang Shouwen, her eyes smiling like two crescent moons.

Yang Shouwen rubbed her little face and said softly, "If you’re not sleepy, Youniang can sit here and keep Xizi brother company. When Xizi brother is done, I’ll tell you the monkey stories, okay?"

"Okay!" Youniang nodded vigorously, looking serious. "Youniang is very good, Xizi brother is busy, and Youniang will keep Xizi brother company."

"Good!"

Yang Shouwen smiled, rubbed Youniang’s face again, and then spread out a piece of paper.

"Xizi brother, Youniang can grind ink."

"Oh?"

"Grandpa used to let Youniang grind ink for him."

Yang Shouwen had forgotten that Yang Dafang was quite learned. Even Yang Chenglie seemed to be literate and had some literary talent. It made sense, as Yang Shouwen’s mother was from the Zheng family of Yingyang. If Yang Chenglie had been illiterate, he wouldn’t have been able to marry Yang Shouwen’s mother.

"So, Youniang can read?"

"Um!"

Youniang, while grinding the ink, proudly answered, "Grandpa taught Youniang, and Youniang knows many characters and can recite the Thousand Character Classic."

Wow! Yang Shouwen was a bit surprised.

The Thousand Character Classic was a basic text for children in later generations, and the Three Hundred Tang Poems and the Thousand Character Classic were well-known.

However, in that era, few people could recite the Thousand Character Classic in its entirety. Yang Shouwen himself couldn’t do it. In this era, being able to recite the Thousand Character Classic was at least a high primary school level. Yang Shouwen couldn’t help but give Youniang a thumbs up, which made her smile even brighter.

Outside, Yangshi quietly left.

She knew Youniang had gone to find Yang Shouwen.

Initially, she was worried that Youniang might disturb Yang Shouwen, but hearing the conversation inside, she felt reassured and returned to her room to do some needlework. Yangshi had no reservations about Yang Shouwen. Although there were gender differences, she couldn’t help but think that one day, if Yang Shouwen married Youniang, it would be a good match. After all, they had grown up together, and although they were still young, their bond was close.

Yang Shouwen picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote the three characters "Qingping Diao" on the paper.

Qingping Diao was a musical term from the Han dynasty.

Since Songshi wanted to take a high-end approach with this wine, it needed a name that matched its sophistication.

Names like "Spring" or "Blood" didn’t appeal to Yang Shouwen. But a different musical term would be perfect.

"Youniang, do you recognize these three characters?"

Youniang leaned in and read them with some difficulty, "Qing—ping—diao... It’s Qingping Diao. Xizi brother’s writing is better than Grandpa’s."

What did Yang Dafang’s writing look like?

Yang Shouwen wasn’t particularly clear.

In his previous life, after becoming paralyzed, he had practiced calligraphy, especially regular script, starting with Yan Zhenqing’s style. Later, he practiced Liu Gongquan’s style, so his calligraphy combined the thick, bold, and free style of Yan Zhenqing with the sharp, strong, and vigorous style of Liu Gongquan. At the time, friends had said his calligraphy captured the essence of Yan and Liu. Unfortunately, he had never shown his calligraphy to the world due to his paralysis.

It was the first year of the Shengli era.

Yan Zhenqing wouldn’t be born for another eleven years, and Liu Gongquan...

The style of Yan and Liu hadn’t yet appeared in this era. When Yang Shouwen wrote the three characters in regular script, Youniang marveled.

"Hehe, you have good taste."

Yang Shouwen gently pinched Youniang’s nose and said, "Do you remember the meaning of these three characters?"

Youniang nodded, "I remember. Xizi brother said these three characters are a gift from Xizi brother to Youniang, a secret between Xizi brother and Youniang. Only Xizi brother and Youniang know, and we mustn’t tell anyone else."

Yang Shouwen smiled and nodded, then, after a moment’s thought, continued writing.

"Clouds resemble garments, flowers resemble beauty, the spring breeze caresses the railing, and the dew is thick and fragrant.

If not seen on the Jade Mountain, it would be met on the moonlit terrace."

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