“Can strategists not ascend to the throne?”
Chapter 262: Liquor as Preservation
Welcoming a guest or scaring the wits out of them?
The wine cup in Qiao Yan’s hand didn’t linger for long before it was placed back on the table before her.
But that fire? It just kept on going.
Long enough for everyone to snap back from their shock over the flaming drink, they cautiously poured a little from their own cups, confirming it was indeed wine and not oil, before looking back at Qiao Yan’s unfazed expression, and only then did the flames in her cup finally die down.
Yet even more shocking was that before they could cringe and ask why the wine was on fire, they saw Qiao Yan pour herself another half cup of wine and then drink it without a second thought…
She actually drank it?
The people present had never witnessed such a scene before!
A wine that burns? That was beyond their comprehension.
Even more unfathomable was that someone could drink such a fiery concoction.
Imagining the old rumors about Qiao Yan, some wondered if she could light someone on fire after forcing them to drink.
But let’s be real, she downed it herself first. If she really wanted to enforce a liquor ban this cruelly, she wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of doing it in this way.
Plus, since she had first assigned Yang Xiu and Wei Ji the task of hosting and resolved tensions through discussions about new manuscripts from Chang’an, she had no need for such theatrics.
But thinking about it, seeing Qiao Yan place her empty cup down and gesture for everyone else to join in seemed to signal the opening of this wine discussion, and yet everyone remained frozen in place.
To drink or not to drink? That seemed like a question of life and death.
These officials from Chang’an had seen such unimaginable things when persuaded by Qiao Yan.
But then, they had only seen wine ignite, not be downed at the same time.
Thankfully, Qiao Yan had a semblance of compassion for the old officials’ fragile nerves.
Let’s not forget, the oldest official in Chang’an wasn’t Chen Ji at over sixty, but the 84-year-old Grand Minister Zhao Qi, born in the first year of Emperor An’s reign!
If she scared them into a fit, that blame would fall squarely on her shoulders.
But with these youthful representatives of noble families, she could afford to let loose a little.
In late May weather, wines with an alcohol content around fifty degrees could indeed burn without needing something stronger.
So of course, they could drink it!
Not to mention that before starting this wine discussion, Qiao Yan had already arranged for them a simple meal supposedly because the meeting might take a while.
See? She even thought ahead to avoid them drinking on empty stomachs.
“No need to worry, aside from those with low tolerance, this wine is perfectly safe to drink,” Qiao Yan said as she surveyed the unreadable expressions around her. “If you don’t drink, how can you understand the reason behind the liquor ban?”
They exchanged glances, realizing Qiao Yan wouldn’t eliminate them with harsh measures; after all, Chang’an needed their efforts for development, and thus everyone reluctantly lifted their cups.
But once the liquor hit their stomachs, thanks to witnessing the previous flames, they felt like they were swallowing fire instead of wine.
The flames carried an intense, fiery flavor that overwhelmed their senses, from their tongues down to their throats, drowning them in the overwhelming experience.
This unprecedented tide of flavor and sensation left even the seasoned drinkers of noble birthing stunted.
So, it really was wine!
Just a lot fiercer.
But if this was what strong liquor was like, what on earth had they been drinking before?
Realizing it wasn’t poison or fuel, some brave souls raised their cups again, taking a sip this time, not downing it all at once, but tasting to distinguish the flavors.
After the fiery burn, an utterly unique taste blossomed on their palates, accompanied by a wave of intoxication that made every previous drink seem utterly trivial.
They say negotiations should follow a principle of civility before aggression.
Wasn’t this “gift” from the Grand Marshal a bit too heavy?
Moreover, with liquor of this quality, who would agree to a ban!
The nobility loved their booze and would never part with such treasures!
However, perhaps due to their earlier united front, Qiao Yan’s bold tactics had subdued their fiery ambitions, and when she spoke again, the atmosphere lightened.
She said, “I don’t want to discuss the quality of the wine; today that isn’t the main issue.”
At these words, the attendees’ expressions shifted dramatically.
“What’s not important?” That was clearly a big deal for them!
The high profits of liquor weren’t just about taste; that was always the primary factor!
But Qiao Yan continued on her own track, “May I ask how much wine your breweries produce?”
The liquor yield, in terms of how much wine you could get from a certain amount of grain, was indeed a more practical question compared to taste.
The one she faced responded, “In the past, when profits from the liquor industry were turned over to the government, it was stipulated that from a load of coarse rice, one can produce more than six loads of wine, which is about two times the yield. However, losses occur due to improper brewing or issues with the yeast, which could reduce that by one or two tenths. In case of disasters, if the grain yield is poor, the yield will drop further.”
“Let’s say it’s just under two times,”
Qiao Yan shook her head. “That calculation has some flaws. For most wines on the market, the actual real wine content is less than ten percent of the total, and there’s a lot of unrefined sediment in it, leading to the notion of ‘muddy wine.’ The so-called two times incorporates many things that shouldn’t count in the first place.”
Only then did they notice that the wine before them, while slightly yellow, was indeed clear and distinct, so unlike typical brews.
Qiao Yan continued, “When talking about liquor, I consider it half water and half wine. According to the common market’s standard, it’s probably around fifty to sixty percent.”
From previously under two times to now fifty percent demonstrates a significant gap.
If they hadn’t tasted this “more flavorful” wine in front of them, they might have thought it was absurd; now, it seemed vaguely plausible.
Qiao Yan: “The wine before you is roughly split evenly between wine and water, so the output efficiency of this liquor is about thirteen loads of wine from twenty loads of grain.”
Not everyone there was a math genius, but basic business calculations were clear enough.
This fire-like liquor, when said to have been concentrated thrice, could easily be understood by them…
“Well, this is even more eye-opening than I expected.”
According to the math, if one can produce thirteen jars from ten, that’s around a sixty-five percent yield—better than what they’re brewing at their winery.
Though Qiao Yan didn’t spell it out for everyone, it was crystal clear what she didn’t say: she had mastered a brewing method with a higher yield.
It made perfect sense for her to keep the brewing process under wraps while also trying to conserve grain.
Whether her claim about efficiency was legitimate still hung in the air, but one thing was for sure: this uniquely flavored wine was sitting in front of her as proof for all to see.
However, merely relying on this drink to convince them wouldn’t cut it.
The taste of strong liquor is quite peculiar, but everyone has different preferences. Some can down three barrels, while others prefer a light sipping—low-alcohol wine still holds its own market.
Plus, the daily profit at the winery and the number of workers employed was well-documented.
This was how they earned their daily bread!
There was a time when the government ran the liquor business and took seventy percent of the profits, but that was scrapped under the pushback from noble families. To them, Qiao Yan probably lacked the capital to stand out as the first of her kind.
She noted their expressions carefully.
Perhaps her bold move at the beginning of the gathering had startled quite a few, leaving them to express their doubts through their eyes instead of voicing them while she was still talking.
What sort of reactions they’d have when they returned home, however, was anyone’s guess.
She couldn’t rule out them trying to sabotage her.
Thankfully, Qiao Yan didn’t plan on relying solely on a new type of wine to dispel their doubts.
She raised her hand, and soon enough, more small jars were brought forth and placed before everyone.
“What I just mentioned was a mix of equal parts wine and water, and there’s another kind that’s three parts wine to one part water, which is what you see before you now.”
In other words, this is just strong alcohol!
Seeing her gesture for everyone to relax, someone popped the lid off first.
The smell of the liquor hit them like a freight train, far stronger than the previous batch.
But weirdly enough, despite the intensity, they didn’t feel like chugging it down; instead, they recalled that fire Qiao Yan had lit earlier.
With a furrowed brow, one young man asked her, “Grand Marshal, what’s the meaning of this?”
“This isn’t for drinking. I simply want you all to see another use for this type of liquor,” Qiao Yan replied calmly. “The high concentration alcohol produced by this special brewing method serves a particularly useful purpose: it cleanses toxic decay—be it from wounds or in a room, it has a significant preventive effect against epidemics.”
As soon as she mentioned the word “epidemic,” a stir erupted from the crowd.
Qiao Yan turned to the source of the noise and spotted a young man showing signs of distress.
Unfortunately, since this gathering hadn’t followed modern meeting norms with name tags, she couldn’t quite tell which noble family he belonged to, but his reaction hinted that perhaps his family had suffered from an epidemic.
But now wasn’t the time for questions, so she just motioned for her subordinates to bring forth more items.
Two jars arrived along with two people—Xianyu Fu and Lu Zhi.
Qiao Yan walked to the center of the high platform and pointed at the two jars. “I fear some of you might not grasp my intention, so I took the liberty of conducting an experiment ten days ago.”
“Let me explain on behalf of the Grand Marshal,” Xianyu Fu chimed in. “Ten days ago, the Grand Marshal had ten similar pieces of meat cut from a dead pig, equally divided into the jars. One jar contained regular well water, while the other had this strong liquor. Both jars were placed in a cool spot outside the Purple Palace, monitored by the guards, with the ministers on their way to the court also able to observe.”
“Moreover, His Majesty approved allowing participants to send servants to watch over this to show its authenticity. So, we are here as personal witnesses.”
These two ceramic jars had been specifically made for storing liquor and had much better sealing properties than regular clay jars.
So when they first laid eyes on the jars, they didn’t grasp the seriousness of the matter.
They only noticed that Qiao Yan’s attendants handed her, Lu Zhi, and Xianyu Fu each a cotton mask.
However, when the jars were finally opened, a young man with too much curiosity got a face full of rancid stench that nearly made him bolt, though he managed to hold it together after some gagging.
Qiao Yan remained unfazed as she grabbed two long chopsticks and fished out the meat from the jars.
After four to eight days, the meat would already show signs of decay in the water, and certainly after ten days.
Everyone watched in shock as Qiao Yan pulled out pieces of pig meat from the water jar, which had turned a grayish-green with white spots all over it; it was clearly rotten beyond recognition.
In stark contrast, the pieces taken from the liquor jar looked practically fresh.
As they were still absorbing the shock from the experiment, Qiao Yan said, “With Lu Zhi and Xianyu Fu as my witnesses, no one should doubt that I’ve swapped these items. In summary, this higher purity liquor kills the harmful bacteria that cause decay, so applying it to soldiers’ wounds can reduce infections, and using it on walls and indoors can fend off the spread of disease during epidemics.”
“If any of you wish to see it again, I’m happy to conduct another test right here.”
As she spoke, she pulled out a short dagger from her waist, running her fingertip along the blade.
Even though they knew she wasn’t going to use a person for comparison, the nonchalant movement sent chills down their spines.
“N-no need for that!” someone piped up, trying to thwart her plans.
Since this was something witnessed by the Son of Heaven and the ministers, there wouldn’t likely be an issue.
And if Qiao Yan’s claims about its effectiveness were true, how would this high-purity liquor differ from a divine medicine?
It’s the kind of divine medicine that doesn’t need to be ingested!
In times of natural disasters and epidemics, if such a thing had existed early on, how could Zhang Jiao have seized the opportunity to grow followers with Talisman Water, leading to the formation of the Yellow Turban Army? How could noble families lose their heirs despite the availability of famous doctors?
Perhaps it was because Qiao Yan’s display with the knife incited an irrational fear of death, causing an odd yet enticing association—if the pigs preserved in liquor wouldn’t rot, could they too soak in this liquor after their time had come, ensuring their bodies wouldn’t decay?
Now, that would be a privilege no emperor had ever had!
