The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

The intense aroma of alcohol, like an invisible hand, instantly captivated the hearts and minds of everyone present. It didn't just drift in; it exploded, with a penetrating power, seeping through clothing and into the lungs, creating a strange and alluring tension with the cool environment, elegant furnishings, and the lingering piano music. Many people subconsciously took a deep breath, as if trying to etch this unprecedented scent into the depths of their memory.

Wang Zhonghua stood upstairs, quietly watching the astonishment, fascination, and fervor on the faces of the crowd below, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The real show has only just begun.

Don't believe me? Let's try it.

"hiss--!"

"What fragrance is this? It is so refreshing and delightful! In my fifty-plus years of life, I have never smelled such a wonderful fragrance!"

"Haha, just hearing it makes me feel refreshed, and even the heavens seem exceptionally clear!"

……

Exclamations of amazement arose from all sides.

Some eager customers stepped forward and took a small cup of clear wine poured by a maid. Its color was as clear as water; its aroma was strong yet not overpowering; the wine slid down the throat like a freshly made honey thread, its exterior still glowing with a faint fire, yet flowing with a sweet, nectar-like substance, so hot it made one's eyes well up, yet one couldn't bear to spit out a single drop: the scalding heat surged through the chest and abdomen, bringing an unprecedented, intense impact and exhilarating sensation! Slowly, the warmth began to nourish the lower abdomen and every part of the body, leaving the whole body feeling warm and comfortable, like soaking in a hot spring, intoxicatingly so.

"Excellent! Excellent wine! It's got real strength!"

"Great! Excellent! This is the wine that men of the Great Song Dynasty should drink!"

"Only two taels of silver? Worth it! Absolutely worth it!"

Praises were endless. The ten jars of wine were sold out almost instantly. Those who missed out sighed with regret and asked when the next batch would be available.

Just then, a report came from outside the door: "Lord Chen, the Prefect, has arrived—"

The crowd immediately parted to make way. Chen Shimei, still dressed in his blue official robe, entered slowly with a warm smile. He had clearly also smelled the unique aroma of the wine, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

"I have heard that Wanghu Tower has produced a fine wine, so I have come to see it and share the joy with the people." Chen Shimei's voice was clear and bright. His gaze swept over the empty wine jars and finally landed on Lü Sanjun and Wang Zhonghua.

Lu Sanjun quickly stepped forward to greet him and offered a small cup of "Drunken Eight Immortals" that he had prepared beforehand.

Chen Shimei gracefully accepted the liquor, but did not drink it immediately. Instead, he first carefully observed its color, then gently inhaled its aroma, his eyes filled with even greater surprise. He took a small sip, savoring the taste. The impact of the strong liquor caused his handsome face to flush slightly. After a long while, he slowly nodded and said in a clear voice:

"The dew in the glass cup condenses, and as it passes through the throat, it transforms into fiery clouds."

The saying "Eight Immortals were drunk" is not an exaggeration; true clarity can be found in the human world!

The poem was completed, and the entire hall fell silent, before bursting into even more enthusiastic cheers!

"Your Excellency's poem is excellent!"

"As expected of the top scholar of his time, he has perfectly captured the essence of this wine!"

Chen Shimei accepted the praise with a smile and said to Lü Sanjun, "Master Lü, this wine is indeed a divine product, worthy of the name 'Drunken Eight Immortals.' I hope you will manage it well and not waste this gift from heaven." In his words, he clearly regarded "Drunken Eight Immortals" as a treasure of Chenzhou.

Almost as soon as Chen Shimei finished reciting his poem, a deep, slightly hoarse voice rang out from the corner: "A cup of turbid wine, ten thousand miles from home; the Yanran inscription uncarved, no plan for return. Ah, this wine is as fiery as fire; drinking it can ward off the cold and bolster courage. If it were offered to the border troops..."

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw that Di Qing had arrived sometime earlier, sitting alone in a corner by the window, a cup of untouched "Drunken Eight Immortals" wine in front of him. His deep gaze didn't linger on the wine, but seemed to pierce through the building walls, looking towards the distant, harsh northwest frontier. His words were unfinished, but the unspoken meaning sent a chill down the spines of some who were paying attention. This demoted general saw not elegance, but the strategic value and morale-boosting power hidden within the wine.

Upon hearing this, Chen Shimei's gaze briefly met Di Qing's. His smile remained unchanged, but a faint hint of disdain flashed in his eyes. He then smiled and said, "General Di is truly a model of military virtue, concerned for the border. However, this wine is difficult to brew and quite expensive, so it may be difficult to supply the army." With a casual remark, he cut off Di Qing's words.

Di Qing said no more, but simply picked up his wine cup and drank it all in one gulp. His bronze face remained expressionless, except for a barely perceptible hint of loneliness and perseverance in his tightly pursed lips.

The Prefectural Governor composed a poem, and the General offered his commentary! The arrival of these two undoubtedly propelled the reputation of the "Eight Drunken Immortals" to its peak.

Wanghulou's business was booming, and Wang Zhonghua and Lü Sanjun entertained merchants from all walks of life. Wealthy businessmen from Chenzhou flocked to Wanghulou, wanting to sign contracts with Lü Sanjun to sell their wine.

Ten jars of "Drunken Eight Immortals" wine were sold out the moment the store opened. Those who failed to purchase any gathered inside, considering it an honor to even taste a cup or two. Furthermore, some scholars and writers spontaneously organized a "Drunken Eight Immortals Poetry Gathering," wielding their brushes and leaving behind countless poems and songs of praise, closely linking "Drunken Eight Immortals" with the images of "Poet Immortals" and "Wine Immortals."

Someone swayed his head: A solitary lamp casts its glow on my lonely figure, half a pot of wine keeps me company into the late hour. The gentle breeze, oblivious to human sorrow, blows into my cold dreams through the window.

Someone sang aloud: "Drink this cup of fine wine, let us meet again tomorrow, hand in hand, though we may be separated by the ends of the earth. Let us not speak of the difficulty of parting, but savor this deep affection. Do you know, do you know? It is when the moon rises above the willow branches."

Some danced with joy: "The pine breeze and mountain stream intoxicate the Eight Immortals, together we revel in this blissful state, forgetting the years. Mountain scenery reaches before the wine cup, the fragrance of flowers floats at the bottom, a smile with you dispels the clamor. Let all things be as they may."

Some drink and recite: "Drunk, I lie among the flowers, unaware of the passing stars. Life is but a fleeting moment, so let us not lament; let us savor the profound elegance of this cup."

The bright moon and gentle breeze are our companions, our youthful spirits are filled with poetry and wine. We meet with a smile and share the world, and after a drunken night, there is no need for worries.

Others exclaimed in delight: "The west wind howls across the empty mountains, fallen leaves flutter in the water's bend."

White hair adds to my sorrow, yellow flowers symbolize my old promise to the Eight Immortals. I climb the tower to watch the wild geese fly south, leaning on the railing as my thoughts drift back with the twilight. Drunk, I lie unaware of the late autumn colors, the frosty moon shining on my flushed face.

……

Amidst the frenzied performance of a group of scholars and students, a clear voice came from upstairs: "Distinguished guests, I, Wang Zhonghua, and Master Lü are hosting this 'Drunken Eight Immortals' tasting event today. Thank you all for your support. I am not very talented, but after drinking and getting a little tipsy, I will also compose a poem for our 'Drunken Eight Immortals,' which I will tentatively name 'Song of the Drunken Eight Immortals.'"

The man was tall and thin with handsome features; he was none other than Wang Zhonghua.

Wang Zhonghua sang loudly, clapping his hands on the railing. His tall, handsome figure, reminiscent of Louis Koo, and his magnetic and powerful voice, like Andy Lau's, created a powerful impact.

The new liquor from Feng comes from the land of Chu, and the golden goblet is first filled with the blue glass.

Having already felt the Penglai Mountain was near, why bother riding a whale to visit Anqi?

Li Bai raised his cup to invite the moon, and the shadow of the blue lotus fell into the jade cup.

The madman of Siming traded a golden tortoise for a white oriole in his drunken writing of the Yellow Court Classic.

The Left Chancellor spends ten thousand coins a day on official business, and his flushed face still calls for the cicada.

Ruyang, with three bushels of wine, went to heaven, while a wine cart, its mouth drooling, avoided him.

Su Jin was a vegetarian who embroidered Buddha images, and often loved to escape into Zen meditation when drunk.

Jiao Sui's eloquent speech astonished everyone present, while Zong Zhi was a handsome and dashing young man.

These gentlemen, unrestrained by worldly conventions, each embraced the tranquility of the bright moon and gentle breeze.

When drunk, one is oblivious to the vastness of the world, seeing only the Milky Way falling into a sea of ​​wine.

Emperor Kaiyuan valued his courtiers highly, and granted them permission to sleep in the Golden Palace.

Even today, the legacy of the Hanlin Academy is still passed down, and the ink traces still carry the fragrance of wine.

This humble servant is fortunate to live in an enlightened era, and often has thoughts while sipping fine wine.

If the Eight Immortals were born into this world, they would surely compose new verses for the Jade Palace.

Drunk, I lean on the railing, gazing at the Big Dipper, wishing to invite the long star into my wine cup.

After drinking, I felt no shame for my limited talent and ability, and I also tried to compose a wonderful poem like my predecessors.

On the shores of Xiange Lake, atop Wanghu Tower, the city is ablaze with flowers, intoxicating three thousand guests. The frenzy among the crowd reaches its peak: some sit barefoot on tables, some sing wildly, some raise their cups in boasting, and some wear faces full of regret. For a moment, wine cups and poems fly together, and spittle and literary talent blend into one.

As Wang Zhonghua's deep, resonant voice drifted down from upstairs, each word struck like a sandalwood mallet infused with the aroma of wine, resonating in the deepest recesses of everyone's hearts; it was like a silver ribbon of ice descending from the clouds, instantly freezing the frenzied, drunken revelry. All the clamor seemed to be choked by an invisible giant hand, wine cups hung in mid-air, songs shattered at the lips, even the flying spittle seemed to freeze into dust particles in the light—

The entire Wanghu Tower was imprinted by this sound into a living, trembling picture of a drunken frenzy.