Chapter Eleven: The Grand Ceremony of the Five Nations Alliance – Crimson Banner Tavern and Jade Blossom Brew

Upon hearing the tavern boy’s words, Moke Shu could not wait to open the wine jar. Instantly, the rich aroma of alcohol filled the air, intoxicating everyone in the tavern.

“Such a fine brew is truly rare in this world. The mere fragrance is irresistible!” Moke Shu exclaimed, unable to restrain his praise. Yet, fearing others might covet it, he swiftly sealed the jar again and cast a meaningful glance at Fu Chen.

For someone obsessed with wine, such a treasure was nothing short of a blessing.

Fu Chen, seeing his eagerness, understood his little scheme and couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Clearly, Moke Shu wanted to savor it slowly back at the inn. Even at his age, his heart was as childlike as ever. Who would believe he was a prince?

Just then, a servant descended from upstairs and whispered something mysteriously into the tavern boy’s ear. After listening, the boy nodded, and once the servant left, he greeted Moke Shu and Fu Chen with a smile. “My master wishes to gift this wine to you gentlemen, free of charge. Would you be willing to honor him with a few moments of conversation?”

Fu Chen frowned slightly. “Did your master say anything else?”

The tavern boy shook his head. “I know nothing more—I am just delivering his message.”

Seeing Fu Chen hesitate, Moke Shu waved his hand grandly. “Very well! Since your master is so generous, we should meet him. Let us go.”

With Moke Shu having spoken, Fu Chen could only smile and agree, “With such fine wine offered, we must thank your master in person.”

“Allow me to show the way,” the tavern boy said, rising to lead them.

They followed him upstairs. At the last room, the door was pushed open, and inside sat a person dressed in plain attire. On her slender wrist was a red jade bracelet, her hair tied with a white silk ribbon, adorned with a bamboo-carved hairpin. Though silver strands were visible in her hair, she retained an elegant charm. Upon their entry, she rose immediately, smiling warmly.

“This is my master,” the tavern boy announced before departing.

“Gentlemen, please sit,” Master Lin invited, setting cups before them.

“I’ve heard this wine was brewed by your own hand; though I have not tasted it yet, its flavor is already apparent. Thank you for your generous gift,” Fu Chen said, glancing at the wine jar cradled in Moke Shu’s arms.

“I have loved wine all my life. To receive this nectar today is a blessing beyond compare,” Moke Shu declared, rising to bow to her.

Master Lin noticed how tightly Moke Shu held the jar, clearly unwilling to part with it, and found it amusing. She laughed. “There’s no need for such courtesy. Good wine ought to be given to those who appreciate it. Please, sit and enjoy.”

She then bent to lift another jar, pouring for both of them.

As the aroma spread, Moke Shu couldn’t help but swallow.

Master Lin pushed the wine toward them. “Please, gentlemen, taste it.”

The two exchanged glances and raised their cups in a toast.

The wine lingered on their tongues, its warmth spreading quickly through their stomachs.

Moke Shu slammed the table in delight. “This wine is neither too hot nor too mild—excellent, truly excellent!”

“Does this wine have a name?” Fu Chen examined his cup, savoring the taste. Though not as fond of wine as Moke Shu, he had sampled nearly all famous brews in the world, yet he could not identify what ingredients made this one.

“Just an ordinary flower wine, never named,” she said, her eyes betraying endless sorrow.

“Flower wine? What flower?” Moke Shu’s curiosity was piqued. He could not discern the flower’s essence, so he drained the rest of his cup.

“Qiong flower.”

“But the wine has no scent of the qiong flower,” Moke Shu remarked, sniffing again.

“Perhaps it was buried in the earth for too many years, and the flavor faded.”

Moke Shu nodded, asking no more.

“This grand tavern, did you manage it all yourself?” Fu Chen had expected the master to be a burly man, not a woman, and was a little surprised.

“Yes. My ancestors were skilled at brewing wine, and made their living from this tavern. My parents had only me, their sole daughter. When it passed to me, how could I bring them shame? Are you gentlemen from Northern Xiao?”

Moke Shu pointed at Fu Chen. “No. He is Fu Chen from Southern Sheng, and I am Moke Shu of Eastern Ling.”

Master Lin trembled slightly at the mention of Southern Sheng. “Do you happen to know Lord Mo Zi Qiu?”

“Of course. He is Southern Sheng’s esteemed General of Tranquility.”

For years, Master Lin had been seeking news of him, and just recently learned he had become an official in Southern Sheng.

“Is General Mo well?” she asked, her eyes glistening with tears.

“I have not returned home for many years… so I do not know,” Fu Chen replied with difficulty.

“Does he have a family?” she pressed.

Fu Chen shook his head. “The general is of a reserved nature and has never married. I do not know if he is still the same.”

“He never married? How could that be?” She was surprised, having imagined he would have children and grandchildren by now.

“I truly know little…”

“He always said he wished only for peace in the land and safety for the people. Becoming a general suited him well.”

With that, Master Lin drank several cups in succession. “Borrowing another’s wine to drown the stone in my heart.”

Moke Shu and Fu Chen were utterly confused, not knowing what to say.

The wine belonged to the master, the cups as well; she drank her own wine—what could they object to?

Her tolerance was impressive; after several cups, there was no sign of drunkenness. She set down her porcelain cup with a gentle smile.

“Gentlemen, you are both outstanding—do you have someone in your hearts? If you ever meet someone who stirs your soul, let her know your feelings.”

Without waiting for their answer, she continued, “In the thirty-fourth year of Zhaoyue, Qingru fell in love with a man and never looked back.

“In the thirty-seventh year, they pledged themselves to each other. The man came to propose, but Qingru’s parents, seeing his family’s decline, refused to marry their daughter to him. She begged them desperately, but her parents threatened suicide. Thus, the marriage was abandoned.

“The man and she met in secret often. Her parents, noticing the signs, threatened Qingru with the man’s life unless she broke off all contact.

“Unwilling to see him die before her eyes, Qingru broke their token of love and claimed to have chosen another.

“The man never believed her, keeping vigil outside her home day and night, enduring beatings and humiliation, until he heard news of Qingru’s marriage and left, spirit broken.

“They never met again. Qingru never married.

“Two years later, both her parents passed away. She wished to find the man, but the world was vast, and she knew not where he was.

“So she waited, always listening for news of him. But he seemed never to exist, never appearing again…”

As she finished, she poured herself another cup, lost in thought, not noticing as the wine overflowed.

Moke Shu, seeing this, felt distressed, wishing he could drink the spilled wine, and hastily stopped her. “Master, it’s full, it’s full!”

Master Lin returned to herself, smiling apologetically. “Forgive my lack of restraint—I wandered too far. Please forgive me, gentlemen.”

“No harm done, though the wine is wasted,” Moke Shu said, still eyeing the spilled wine as if it were a precious loss.

“A man’s true passion is admirable, though a hero’s fate is often unfulfilled. Qingru’s devoted waiting is moving… It is as the saying goes: life is unpredictable,” Fu Chen remarked, as much to himself as to Master Lin.

“Yes, meeting by fate but unable to be together for life is destiny. I have enjoyed our conversation tonight.”

“This wine is so precious—why do you gift it to us? We are strangers, with no connection,” Moke Shu asked, feeling uneasy about accepting such generosity.

“Yesterday, as you gentlemen rescued someone outside the city, I happened to pass by in my carriage. Your kindness deserves at least a jar of humble wine.”

“Even had we not acted, I imagine you would have lent a hand as well.”

“Indeed, the master is clearly a kind soul,” Moke Shu agreed.

“Please wait a moment,” she said, stepping outside.

…

“Fu Chen, you’d better not covet my jar of wine,” Moke Shu said, hugging the jar tightly, full of suspicion.

“Rest assured, I am not so desperate as to steal your wine,” Fu Chen replied, speechless at his friend’s antics. Did he look like that kind of man?

“Good, you said it—a gentleman’s word is as unbreakable as four horses. Hahaha!” With Fu Chen’s promise, Moke Shu was finally at ease.

Though Fu Chen did not love wine, he often competed for it with Moke Shu over the years, only to leave it untouched—such waste made Moke Shu indignant. Alas, he could not win against Fu Chen; otherwise, he would have reclaimed it long ago.

“Mm.”

Just then, Master Lin returned, carrying another jar of fine wine.

“Master, you brought another jar—do you have more? I’ll buy them all, no matter the price!” Moke Shu exclaimed, full of hope.

“No, only three jars were buried,” she replied, walking toward Fu Chen.

“Oh.”

“Sir, could I ask you to deliver this jar to General Mo?” Master Lin’s gaze was intense.

“We are bound for Bai Xi, and will not return soon…” Seeing her disappointment, he added, “But the general may also go to Bai Xi. I promise to deliver the wine.”

On hearing this, Master Lin’s smile blossomed, as if she were dreaming of something. She handed him the jar. “Then I leave it in your care.”

Fu Chen accepted the wine carefully, and as night had fallen, he and Moke Shu bid Master Lin farewell and left the Red Flag Tavern.

By then, only two or three servants remained downstairs; the place was otherwise empty.

She stood at the door, waiting for their figures to vanish before turning to close the tavern’s doors.

A crescent moon, faintly glowing, hung high in the deep night sky, scattered with a few stars. Gentle moonlight spilled softly from above, cloaking the quiet and long streets, the swaying trees, while a mild breeze rustled the leaves, casting uneven shadows upon the walls.

Both men carried their jars of wine, walking in the moonlight, their shadows stretched long behind them.

“I warn you, don’t even think about this wine,” Fu Chen said, fearing Moke Shu’s greed might lead him to drink the jar meant for someone else.

“I wouldn’t dream of it! You’re judging me by your own petty standards!” Moke Shu scoffed.

“I’m the petty one and you’re the gentleman?”

“Exactly! You always bully me, just because I can’t beat you,” Moke Shu retorted with pride, as if losing was somehow the other’s fault.

“Fine, fine, it’s my fault,” Fu Chen said, weary and unwilling to argue further.

“I’m magnanimous—I won’t hold it against you. I’ll grudgingly forgive you,” Moke Shu boasted.

“Thank you, Prince Moke Shu, for your mercy.”

“Prince Fu Chen, you are too polite. Hahaha!”

Moke Shu then rambled, “My heart is barren, lost in the mundane world and ignorant of love. I love wandering, and am obsessed with drunken slumber. Do you think Qingru and that man will ever meet again?”

“Perhaps they will, perhaps not.”

“Yes, maybe he’s dead. After all, birth, aging, sickness, and death are part of life.”

“Indeed. Yet love can rival the sun and moon, and endure with heaven and earth,” Fu Chen mused, curious about Qingru’s true identity, but dared not ask directly. If Qingru were Master Lin herself, it would be salt in her wounds.

Looking down at the wine jar in his arms, he asked, “What do you think is the relationship between the master and General Mo? Why does she react so strongly when he’s mentioned?”

“If you really want to know, ask General Mo yourself when you meet him,” Moke Shu replied, unconcerned about their relationship, only hoping General Mo would share the wine.

The two chatted idly as they walked, soon arriving at the inn.

They saw Zhao Xu waiting anxiously downstairs and quickened their pace.

“Gentlemen, you’re finally back!” Zhao Xu hurried out to greet Fu Chen and Moke Shu.

“Zhao, why aren’t you resting? Is something wrong?” Moke Shu asked.

“I saw you two gone so long and grew worried, so I came downstairs to wait. I am injured, and feared you might return and not find me, so I waited here,” Zhao Xu explained.

“We just went out for some wine and made you worry,” Fu Chen said.

“It’s good you’re back. Go rest now.”

“Mm.” Seeing Zhao Xu’s sincerity, Fu Chen felt his suspicions ease.

After staying in Northern Xiao for two days, they bought three fine horses and set off for Bai Xi.