25. Buying on Credit

At this moment, inside the small cabin were three craftsmen, faces alight with excitement, carefully watching the bamboo tube drip liquor, drop by precious drop. On a stool beneath the tube sat a half-filled bamboo cup, while several jars of wine were arrayed on a nearby table, exuding a rich, heady fragrance.

Wang Bo watched as the liquor fell, splashing into the cup, then slapped one of the craftsmen on the head and shouted, “Use a bigger cup! Wasteful! No—fetch a large vat, quickly!” Two of the brewers hurried out at his command.

Tiptoeing, Wang Bo took a small ladle, scooped a spoonful from a half jar of wine on the table, and, with great satisfaction, poured it into his mouth. “Ah! Excellent wine! Uncle Zhi, you must try this!” Saying so, he scooped another spoonful and offered it to Chen Dao, watching him eagerly.

With a gulp, the wine slid down Chen Dao’s throat, and in an instant, his face flushed bright red. He coughed and bent over, clutching his cheeks. “Cough, cough! You... I...!”

Wang Bo burst into hearty laughter. Outside the hut, the brewers exchanged glances. Chen Rong pushed through the crowd, directing two young men to carry in a vat, and asked, “My lord, what brings such delight?”

Wang Bo did not answer, but instead scooped another taste—this time, only half a ladle, having learned his lesson—and handed it to Chen Rong. Chen Rong sipped, his eyes immediately brightening with pleasure, his cheeks flushing as he praised, “Fine wine! This is a peerless vintage! My lord, you must be a wine immortal descended to earth to have crafted such a brew!”

Delighted, Wang Bo laughed again and immediately issued an order: from this day forth, a squad of soldiers from the garrison would strictly guard the distillery, a new wall would be erected outside, and no one but Chen Rong and Wang Bo, or those with Wang Bo’s written order, would be allowed entry. Offenders would be seized and sent to the labor camp, and anyone with malicious intent executed on the spot!

All the brewers were to live and work inside the distillery, taking turns for a day’s leave every five days, always accompanied. Their families, too, were housed together and guarded.

Wang Bo, seeing Chen Dao had finally recovered, commanded him to add more workers and purification equipment to the distillery, expanding its scale—but to select strictly, ensuring no suspicious outsiders slipped in.

That evening, Wang Bo carried a much-anticipated full jar of fine wine, called everyone together, and poured each a small cup. After tasting, their eyes sparkled; all agreed it was marvelous and clamored for more.

Wang Bo glared and shouted, “Even I have only a small cup. Do you think this wine is inexhaustible? Good as it is, it’s not easily made. Besides, our city needs it for revenue. Bear with it for now; those who achieve merit will be rewarded!”

All snorted, flicked their sleeves and rolled their eyes, departing in a noisy huff.

After the commotion, Yang Feng lingered with a smile. Wang Bo kicked the grinning Ping Han and Pei Yuanshao out the door, but poured small cups of his secret stash for Xu Chu, Chen Dao, and Yang Feng, savoring the wine together. After all, these two were his personal guardians—an occasional bribe was only fitting. As for Yang Feng, he was like a sworn elder brother—one keeps good things in the family.

As he sipped, Wang Bo turned serious and said to Yang Feng, “Brother, Yuan Hao wishes to exchange this wine with the Hu chieftains for horses—what do you think?”

Yang Feng clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Excellent! Yuan Hao, this will work!” He also suggested trading with merchant caravans like the Wang family for grain and iron—urgently needed by the army. Wang Bo, beaming, spent half the night in discussion with him before they retired.

The next day, Wang Bo ordered a new tavern built outside the merchant guildhall, lazily naming it “Xinghan Tavern” after the wine itself—a way to promote the brand and earn a little extra.

Inside, the tavern offered wild game and small dishes from Mount Guji, prepared especially for visiting merchants. Lacking proper seasonings, Wang Bo’s cooking seemed an odd mix compared to his previous life, but the cooks regarded his stir-fries as a new culinary frontier—even if Wang Bo, the “chef,” didn’t bother to remove the meat’s gaminess.

Of course, the real highlight was the freshly produced Xinghan wine, though the price was outrageous—ten times higher than ordinary Han wine, even at the lowest grade.

At first, the merchant supervisors, seeing the army’s local power, bought some out of courtesy, like paying a toll for passage—letting their subordinates drink it. After all, few powers were so conscientious as Xinghan City: no extortion, no taxes, just selling high-priced wine—how much could they make? To refuse was to court disaster.

But once tasted, the wine made an impression. Every servant who drank it praised Xinghan wine unstintingly; whether real or feigned, they seemed dull and dazed the next day, making the supervisors suspicious—was something added to the wine? But what fortune could be worth poisoning for?

Wang Bo classified the distilled wines: the highest proof, triple-distilled—about equivalent to over sixty degrees in his former world—fortified with medicinal herbs blended by Chen Rong for health, was called “Xinghan Medicinal Wine.”

The second, high-proof but without herbs, was “Xinghan Medical Wine,” used for treating wounds.

Twice-distilled, around fifty degrees, was “Xinghan White Spirit,” intended for northern chiefs and wealthy officials.

The ordinary, single-distilled wine, about thirty degrees, was “Xinghan Little Spirit,” to be diluted or not as needed, mainly for commoners, soldiers, and Hu herders.

Within days, several large merchant caravans, including the Wang family, returned from the Hu lands. Delayed by the army for several days, their arrivals coincided.

After settling their men at the guildhall, the supervisors came together to visit the city lord. Wang Bo was eager to promote Xinghan wine, so he hosted a feast.

At the banquet, one taste was enough to win their praise; the quick-witted soon sensed a business opportunity and inquired about trade terms.

But when Wang Bo named the price, they exclaimed at the cost—even “Xinghan Little Spirit” was several times pricier than ordinary wine, let alone the higher grades. How could it be sold? Only Wang An fell silent, thoughtful.

After their complaints, Wang Bo smiled and said, “Good wine needs no alley! My Xinghan wine is to common wine as your mansions are to peasants’ huts—how can their prices be compared?”

“The brewing method is my master’s life’s work. It is not easy, and uses much grain; thus the price is beyond ordinary drink. We have dwelled here months, yet only have a scant hundred catties in stock. If you find it too dear, we shall say no more.”

At this, Wang An frowned and said, “Though this wine is marvelous, the price is so high that even if brought to the wealthy heartlands, few would buy it.”

“My wine is now suited only for the cold northern lands. As for the heartlands, let us set those aside. If you wish to trade but fear the price, you worry too much!”

“Here’s my proposal: on your next journey to the Hu lands, take five catties each of ‘Medicinal’ and ‘Medical’ wine, twenty catties of ‘White Spirit,’ and some ‘Little Spirit.’ No need to pay unless you sell it; if you do, I want fifty fine warhorses and fifty pack horses in exchange. What do you say?”

“That is agreeable… very agreeable…” Seeing Wang An still hesitated, Wang Bo added, “No need for concern. The Xinghan Army are men of honor, not scoundrels! I’ll also gift you two catties of ‘White Spirit’ to sample during trading.”

“Thank you, General!” Wang An replied with a deep bow, beaming.

When Wang Bo agreed to credit, the other supervisors clamored for the same.

Wang Bo asked, “Which of you travels to the Xiongnu lands?” Two nodded. “Each of you may take ten catties of ‘White Spirit’ and twenty of ‘Little Spirit,’ with samples for tasting. But when trading, I want only horses.” Both agreed, delighted.

To the others, Wang Bo explained that stocks were limited; after reporting to their families, they could negotiate more on their next trip. He also gifted each two catties of ‘Little Spirit.’

Satisfied, the merchants thanked Wang Bo and departed.

After sending them off, Wang Bo toured the distillery, saw the scant reserves, and urged Chen Rong to expand and accelerate production. He told the brewers they could distill their own base spirits for Medicinal and Medical wines to speed things up. Satisfied after checking the fermenting fruit wines, he left.

Just as he was about to observe the Wolf Owl Guard’s drills, news came that there was trouble at Xinghan Tavern. Wang Bo, furious, wondered which fool dared cause mischief on his turf.

At the tavern, he found a group of merchant-looking men loudly arguing with the Tanchou tribesmen managing logistics—attracting a crowd of curious onlookers. But none dared start a fight, knowing the tavern belonged to the army.

On inquiring, he learned that a few rough drinkers wanted to buy wine for their journey, but the tavern refused to sell for takeaway—only on-site drinking was allowed! Frustrated, unable to out-argue the scholarly staff, and afraid to use force, the men blocked the door, hollering boisterously until, at the sight of an approaching squad of soldiers, they quickly scattered.

Wang Bo shook his head and instructed the scribe Tian to post a notice: in a few days, Xinghan City would establish the “Wine Exchange Office,” dedicated to selling Xinghan wine at slightly lower prices than the tavern.

The Exchange would be near the merchant guildhall, managed by Tian Chou and Niu Er. For purchases over five catties, payment would be accepted only in horses, salt, iron, or grain—ordinary wine undiluted would also be accepted, but only from merchant caravans.

Smaller purchases, under five catties, were for individual patrons and could be paid for with cloth, tea, or weapons and armor.

All transactions were barter—no coin or currency accepted. Several staff skilled at horse appraisal and goods evaluation were assigned to assist.

After settling all these matters, another day was nearly gone. Yet Wang Bo was in high spirits, even finding Chen Dao agreeable company. Lying down comfortably, he thought again of Tian Feng, sighed, and soon fell asleep.

Ten days later, merchant caravans from all over arrived at Xinghan City, identified by the guards at Yuhu Pass, bringing large quantities of grain and common wine—eager to trade for Xinghan wine, if only for their own use.

Upon entering, the supervisors sought Wang Bo at once, who, overwhelmed, announced a banquet for all caravans five days hence.

When the Wang family caravan arrived, Wang Bo hosted a grand feast at Xinghan Tavern, inviting heads of over twenty caravans, old and new faces alike.

At this banquet, the supervisors were less reserved than before, feasting heartily before getting down to business. Afterwards, they discussed trading methods and quotas for Xinghan wine.

After much lively debate, Wang Bo assigned the following monthly quotas until winter: one thousand catties of ‘Little Spirit,’ five hundred of ‘White Spirit,’ and one hundred each of ‘Medical’ and ‘Medicinal’ wine, plus several dozen catties of fruit wine.

Distribution was set: the Wang family caravan took thirty percent, the other large caravans forty percent, and the remaining medium and small caravans thirty percent—balancing all interests.

He emphasized the rules: for westward trade with the Hu, only horses were accepted; for trade from the heartlands, common wine, grain, salt, and iron were acceptable. Those who could bring skilled craftsmen would be favored and possibly allotted more wine. Special needs would be announced as necessary; all future trades would be handled by the Wine Exchange Office.

After the meeting, Wang An approached Wang Bo, who learned the Wang caravan had just returned from Yunzhong and was waiting outside Yunu Pass for inspection.

Wang Bo immediately led his horse appraisers to examine the haul: over thirty fine warhorses—not as many as he’d asked for, but that was just bargaining. In ancient times, warhorses were priceless, akin to modern tanks—usually never allowed to be traded. Exchanging thirty for some wine was an incredible deal; likely, they’d never get so many again.

There were also fifty or sixty sturdy packhorses, and even a few cattle and sheep—Wang Bo was thrilled.

Seeing the cattle, Wang Bo remembered that next spring would require many plow oxen—an urgent need. He immediately discussed trading for more with Wang An. The sheep too—good for meat, saving the hunting parties long trips. And pigs—were there any pigs yet? Wang Bo drifted into a happy daydream, leaving Wang An aside.

The boom in Xinghan wine brought the city immense profit: not only did it solve the army’s and people’s needs, but restricted materials—like pig iron, standard weapons, and military armor—were smuggled in by the caravans, filling Xinghan’s shortfall. Not to mention vast quantities of grain and wine, all traded for Xinghan spirits. Some merchants returned directly to the heartlands, others headed to the Hu lands to barter for horses, cattle, and sheep—and then back to more Xinghan wine, all hurrying back to their businesses with elation.