Back at Songwu Temple, the young novice monk brought over a small porcelain bottle with a cloisonné blue background and magnolia blossoms, then left without a word. The bottle was tiny, barely a finger's width tall. Upon opening the cap, a rich, pure aroma of wine wafted out. The wine was clear and white; a small sip revealed a refreshing, clean taste, sweet but not cloying, with an excellent flavor. It was the osmanthus wine Mo Xi had wanted to drink while boating on West Lake. Needless to say, Ru Wu's winemaking skills were far from new. Mo Xi drank it all in one gulp, still wanting more. He cursed inwardly: "This guy really knows how to brew good wine. But he's such a cheapskate! Everyone gets a share, yet he only brings such a tiny bit. I can't let him keep it for himself." He decided to go find him that very night and get some, no matter what method he had to.
Drinking Song
( ) When I went to find Ruwu that night, I caught him red-handed. Sure enough, this evil monk was sitting on the meditation couch, sipping wine.
On the rosewood table in front of him were a pair of wooden cups, a jade cup with cloud patterns, and a gold cup with double lion patterns for warming wine.
Seeing Mo Xi arrive, he smiled knowingly and said, "Since you're here, let's drink together." He rolled up his sleeves, took a celadon lotus-shaped wine pot from the golden pot, filled it seven-tenths full into the wooden cup, and pushed it in front of her.
"Aren't you afraid that Zhiqing will see us drinking together?" These past few days, rumors have been circulating in the temple that the abbot is about to pass away, and that Ruwu is the only one who will succeed him.
"Rumors are not to be believed. Besides, the abbot himself takes inventory of the temple's collection in the Sutra Repository every day at this time." Ru Wu seemed to have no interest in the position of abbot, focusing only on enjoying her wine.
Mo Xi nodded, sat down, and asked suspiciously, "Everyone says that a jade cup is the best wine vessel, so why is yours different?"
Ruwu laughed and scolded: "Fool. Tang Li Bai wrote no less than a hundred poems that have been passed down to this day because he drank heavily in a wooden bucket. You should try and see how this bucket is different from ordinary wine vessels."
This cup is made of light wood with a unique fragrance. The rim of the cup is decorated with orchid patterns.
Mo Xi followed his example, holding the two corners with both hands and drinking from the other corner. It was even more fragrant and mellow than what he had drunk during the day. He exclaimed in surprise, "It is actually Jade Floating Beam!"
Yu Fuliang is a thick wine made without any added liquid.
The Qingyilu (Records of Strange Things) states in the section on wine and liquor: "I had heard that Li Bai loved to drink Jade Floating Beam, but I didn't know what it was like. I had a maid from Wu make wine, so I urged her to finish. She replied, 'It's not ready yet, it's just Jade Floating Beam!' I tried to get a cup, and it was just wine with maggots floating on top. Then I realized that what Li Bai was drinking was this." Jade Floating Beam originated from this story.
Ruwu nodded in approval, saying, "Now that you know about Yufuliang, you still have the potential to carve it."
One cup of thick liquor is equivalent to several cups of ordinary wine. Mo Xi, out of professional sensitivity, is very self-disciplined and never gets drunk, so he does not want to drink anymore.
Ruwu began reciting a poem: "The ground is white, the wind is cold, the snowflakes are as big as hands. Laugh at Tao Yuanming, who doesn't drink the wine in his cup. He idly plays a zither, and vainly plants five willows. He wears a turban on his head in vain, what do I have with you!" As he recited, he slapped the wooden table with his right palm to keep time.
Mo Xi was immediately at a loss for words, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
Legend has it that Li Bai had a friend named Wang Liyang, a man of classical taste who greatly admired Tao Yuanming and emulated him by living a secluded life in the countryside. Wang Liyang also planted five willow trees in front of his house, wore a white turban, and enjoyed composing poetry and playing the zither. One day, a heavy snow fell, blanketing the fields in white. Li Bai visited Wang Liyang's home, where the host warmly entertained him, but only offered food, not drink. No matter how Li Bai urged him to drink, Wang Liyang refused. Enraged, Li Bai immediately penned this poem, "Mocking Wang Liyang for Refusing to Drink," which not only satirized Wang Liyang but also threatened to sever their friendship.
Alright, let's go all out. So Mo Xi automatically filled her second glass.
The second cup reveals the wonder of the wooden vessel. Shortly after the hot liquor is poured into the cup, the aroma of wood blends with the fragrance of the liquor, adding to its pure and rich flavor.
Mo Xi couldn't help but praise, "This drinking contest is excellent. I never imagined that someone as unconventional as you would be so well-versed in this art." In his heart, he cursed, thinking that this guy's expertise in the art of drinking must have meant he indulged in a lot of debauchery twenty years ago.
Ruwu added another peck for her, saying proudly, "Of course. This wine requires glutinous rice from Qindu Town in Huxian County and yeast from Jingmen Town in Hubei Province as ingredients, and the yield must be adjusted flexibly according to the different textures of glutinous rice and the changing seasons. Before distilling, the hands, ingredients, and utensils must be clean. Techniques such as turning, stirring, rubbing, kneading, and pressing must be used skillfully. Only then can the wine be a complete whole. After being boiled, the liquid becomes thick, fragrant, and crystal clear like jade. Sugar cannot be added alone, as it will make the wine sour. It must be mixed with osmanthus sauce pickled in honey when distilling, so that the fragrance of osmanthus and the aroma of wine can blend together."
Ruwu smiled leisurely and said, "Try this cup again."
The gong was actually an ancient vessel used for punishing people by drinking alcohol, because it had nowhere to stand and had nowhere to be placed unless one refused to drink.
Mo Xi readily accepted the good advice and used a jade goblet as a cup. The two of them drank and discussed scriptures, going back and forth. How delightful!
After a few drinks, Mo Xi vaguely recalled the first time she bought osmanthus wine.
The old wine seller, his head covered in silver, smiled as he had his wife wipe the sweat from his brow. He told her, "If you apply osmanthus wine to your lover's chest, you can stay together for three lifetimes in the cycle of reincarnation."
Ha, that's laughable. What talk of three lifetimes? In this one life, she has already killed her lover with her own three-foot-long sword.
Wake up at midnight
When Mo Xi woke up, she found herself slumped over the table, her right hand still resting on the ox-horn-shaped jade cup. Ru Wu looked at her with a half-smile, his eyes tinged with a peach-blossom hue from the alcohol, his monk's robes loose, exuding an indescribable refined elegance. This fellow reeked of alcohol even more than she did; how could he not be drunk? Truly a demonic monk!
This was the first time she'd ever been so clueless about such matters. She absolutely mustn't do this again. Drinking can ruin a life.
Ruwu handed her the pale blue lotus-shaped teacup, saying, "This tea is called 'A Thousand Cups Without Getting Drunk'."
Mo Xi took the hangover tea made with kudzu root, kudzu flower, and goji berries and slowly drank it. A moment later, she felt refreshed and invigorated.
He thanked her, then got up to take his leave.
After returning to Matsugu-in Temple to wash up, I changed out of my clothes, which were still smelling of alcohol, and blew out the lamp to rest.
In the middle of the night, she was suddenly awakened by three piercing screams from a woman; it was Mo Fu. Songwu Courtyard was located in a remote area, and only the three of them lived there, so although Mo Fu's screams were loud, only Mo Xi heard them.
In a flash, he rushed into the Eighth Miss's room. He saw her hanging from the rafters. Mo Xi knew at a glance that she was dead, beyond saving even by a miracle. He then shouted at Mo Fu, who was clearly hysterical and disoriented, "What are you standing there for? Go find the monk on night watch to save her!" Mo Fu then snapped out of her daze and rushed out in a panic, almost tripping in the darkness.
Mo Xi carefully examined the scene.
The windows were wide open, and the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms wafted in, adding a touch of melancholy to the cool night.
Mo Xi gently tossed the suspended ice silk from his sleeve, letting it circle the beam, then caught it with his left hand, suspending himself up so he could observe the corpse at eye level.
The handkerchief used for hanging was likely a personal item of the Eighth Miss. The body was stiff and heavy, indicating she had been dead for some time. The Eighth Miss's face was bluish-purple, with pinpoint hemorrhages on her skin. The ligature marks on her neck confirmed she had hanged herself, not strangled. The lividity suggested she had been dead for at least an hour. This occurred while she was drinking in the misty place.
She was wearing a sky-blue gauze dress, slightly disheveled, with the belt tied at the waist in a wrong place. A search of her body revealed nothing. Since arriving at the temple, the Eighth Miss had removed her hairpins and ornaments, and her hair was styled in a very simple way.
There were no signs of assault. There were no signs of struggle or fighting. The crevices of her bright red nail polish were clean, without any fabric fibers.
The line was retracted and landed silently.
The kicking stool used for hanging knocked over the incense table next to it, causing the lotus-shaped incense burner to fall to the ground. The incense sticks broke into two pieces, with the burning outer end falling into the spilled tea and getting wet and extinguished. The delicate porcelain teacup was smashed to pieces beside it.
Mo Xi picked up the two incense burners, pieced them together, the broken edges fitting perfectly, smelled them, and then put them back in their original place.
She glanced around again to make sure she hadn't missed anything, then slipped out of the room to chase after Mo Fu. It only took her a moment to do all this, and Mo Fu, being slow-moving, hadn't paid any attention to Mo Xi as she ran, so it wasn't surprising that she saw her; she had assumed Mo Xi was only two or three steps behind. The two found two night-guarding monks in the main hall closest to Songwu Temple and, breathless, frantically explained the situation.
Upon hearing this, the two monks immediately grabbed an oil lamp, leaving the two behind, and ran to Songwu Courtyard. By the time Mo Xi and Mo Fu returned, the two monks had already carried the Eighth Miss down.
Because the two women were frightened, the monks placed them back in the usual area for receiving pilgrims. They then locked up the Matsumo-in Temple.
Mo Fu naturally couldn't sleep, so Mo Xi tried to get her to talk while secretly piecing together information.
Around 9 PM, just after the clock struck Hai (亥时), the Eighth Miss requested rock sugar, white fungus, and lotus seed soup. She usually slept for a maximum of two hours each night, and evening snacks were a common request. The maidservant went to the kitchen. Because the Eighth Miss liked the white fungus soup to be very thick, it took quite a bit of effort. The maidservant watched the heat closely, tending the stove for a full two hours. When it was almost done, she realized she had forgotten to sprinkle osmanthus flowers, so she returned to get them, also checking to see if the Eighth Miss was impatient to sleep. It was just after midnight (子时). Then she saw the Eighth Miss hanging herself.
Mo Fu started crying, probably because she remembered what she had just witnessed. She had been in a daze of anxiety and fear after the sudden change, and now that she had calmed down, she was letting it all out.