Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Selling Wine at the Counter (Part 3)

The boy’s eyes widened at the first line, those peach-blossom eyes going round and bright.

Even Chu Yao’s expression shifted. Beneath his calm, something dark gathered and churned.

Shen Tang didn’t look at either of them. Her gaze locked on the mouth of the jar, her focus narrowing until the noise of the street fell away.

“How can I ease my worries?” she said, voice steady. “Only Du Kang Wine!”

The moment the words fell, literary qi surged like a flood released. The air filled with the sound of running water. A clean, sharp fragrance rose—sweet as a Jade Nectar Elixir.

Shen Tang lifted her hand.

The jar was no longer empty.

Clear, emerald-bright wine shimmered inside.

The boy leaned in and sniffed, eyes shining. “Good wine!”

The crowd didn’t know what they’d just witnessed. They only saw a boy pay money, shout “good wine,” and drink like his life depended on it. Some muttered that the world had no shame left—that a good-looking kid was willing to play a planted shill for a crooked stall.

Then they watched him grab the jar and tip it back, drinking without restraint. Wine spilled down his collar and he didn’t care.

It didn’t taste like new brew. It was clear and sharp, the flavor lingering sweet at the back of the throat, the fragrance thick enough to punch. Even someone who’d tasted plenty of good liquor would light up.

He drank and drank, never satisfied, until the jar was empty.

“Huh? It’s gone?” He shook the jar, squinting down into it like it had betrayed him. “I barely got started…”

He dug into his money pouch again and pulled out a larger piece of silver, almost comically bigger than the first.

“Little lady,” he declared, slapping it down, “two jars!”

Then he froze, as if the words finally caught up with him. Heat rushed up his neck, a flush blooming across his pale face. He bowed repeatedly toward Shen Tang.

“Forgive me, forgive me—Young Lord, don’t blame me. I didn’t mean to mistake you.” His ears burned as he blurted, “You were sitting the whole time and your Literary Heart Signature Seal wasn’t visible, so I judged by your face and assumed…”

To him, using a Literary Heart to create wine wasn’t even the strange part. Word-spirit could conjure warhorses and weapons—why not wine?

But mistaking someone’s gender? That was a serious offense.

He looked genuinely afraid Shen Tang would smash a jar over his head out of embarrassment.

Shen Tang stared at him, deadpan. If he weren’t a paying customer—and if that face weren’t so easy to feel sorry for—she would’ve told him to wash his eyes properly.

Still, she swallowed it. “No need to apologize.”

His grin returned instantly, bright and shameless. He clasped his fists toward her like they were old friends. “Young Lord is generous. I am Zhai Le of Qu Dian, courtesy name Xiao Fang. May I ask Young Lord’s name?

“This wine is too tempting. I’d like to be friends.”

Qu Dian?

Shen Tang glanced at Chu Yao.

Chu Yao had been quiet, thoughts heavy, until her gaze dragged him back to the moment. “Qu Dian is in Shen State.”

Shen Tang blinked. “And where is Shen State?”

Chu Yao didn’t answer fast enough. Zhai Le cut in cheerfully, “Shen State is in the southeast. Qu Dian is north of Shen State.”

Shen Tang’s mind went blank for a beat. Shen State in the mainland southeast. Xiao City in the mainland northwest.

That was a brutal distance.

How did you end up here?

Zhai Le scratched his head, sheepish and proud at the same time. “A friend and I agreed to travel and study together. What’s the point of staying in one place? So we traveled and traveled… and somehow ended up here.”

Shen Tang stared at him. “…That isn’t travel. That’s fleeing the world.”

She returned the fist-clasping greeting, awkward but polite. “I’m Shen Tang, courtesy name You Li.”

“Good, good!” Zhai Le beamed.

Shen Tang repeated the method and produced two full jars of Du Kang Wine. Zhai Le hugged one under each arm, satisfied, and jogged off toward the direction he’d glanced at earlier.

Shen Tang watched in quiet curiosity and saw him meet up with another young man, taller by half a head. Their clothes were similar, their brows faintly alike, but this one carried a colder air—cleaner, more restrained, like ice under cloth.

Zhai Le shoved a jar toward him. “Drink or not?”

The other young man took one look. “You’ll drink anything.”

Zhai Le bristled. “Didn’t you bet with me? I won. Why wouldn’t I drink? Besides, before we entered Xiao City, we couldn’t even get a bowl of clear wine.

“You really won’t drink? Fine. I’ll drink it all myself.”

The taller one snorted, snatched the jar from Zhai Le’s arms, and glanced over—his indifferent gaze colliding with Shen Tang’s without flinching.

Shen Tang frowned. She’d sold wine at a clear price. No cheating. No short measure. Why look at her like that?

The taller youth grabbed Zhai Le by the collar and dragged him toward a tea shop. Zhai Le yelped, half-laughing, half-protesting.

“Talk properly! Brother, don’t drag me—do I have no dignity?”

As they entered, Shen Tang’s eyes flicked to the taller youth’s waist. Sure enough, he wore an ornament too—a blue-green Literary Heart Signature Seal.

She couldn’t tell the rank, but it explained a lot. One civil, one martial. Enough to survive traveling from the southeast to the northwest.

With Zhai Le’s loud praise drawing attention, more people drifted in, curiosity sharp as hunger. They didn’t buy whole jars like Zhai Le—most only bought a liang or two to taste—but the business was steady. Not booming, not bad.

Shen Tang patted the seal at her waist and grinned. Maybe she wasn’t unlucky all the time.

Free really did taste best.

Counting the heavier money pouch, plus what she still had from selling paintings, she figured she could finally buy decent cloth and make a few clean outfits. Autumn came early in Xiao City. Summer was already fading.

“Sir,” she said to Chu Yao, “let’s go buy cloth.”

After that, she produced two more jars of Du Kang Wine and returned loaded down.

Back at the Little Academy, she pushed open the courtyard gate and found Qi Shan sitting under the corridor, staring off as if weighed down by something he couldn’t swallow.

“Yuan Liang,” she called, “are there any extra rooms here?”

Qi Shan jolted back to himself. “You finally—” He cut off.

His eyes landed on Chu Yao standing at Shen Tang’s side.

Chu Yao was looking right back.

For a breath, their gazes struck in the air like flint on steel.