Taoyuan Village was swept up in a wave of weddings.
A settlement of barely a thousand souls, yet dozens of couples were getting married—most of them young men bringing brides home from outside the village.
There were two reasons for this.
First, people had grown prosperous enough to afford a wife.
Second, most of the villagers had previously lived at the very bottom of society, where families with sons often couldn't scrape together enough for a marriage even when those sons came of age. This meant a great many men of marriageable age had been waiting for years.
Girls never had trouble finding husbands—no matter how poor, a girl could always marry out, though poverty meant marrying poorly.
In response to this situation, the village offered partial support: any couple where both parties were sixteen or older would receive a newly allocated home with three years of rent waived.
For those under sixteen—the village was sorry, but it did not support early marriage, and no assistance would be given.
This policy caused several couples to postpone their weddings, planning to marry the following year instead.
But those who had intended to wed at thirteen or fourteen simply couldn't wait that long.
A notice was also posted on the village committee's public board, recommending that people marry around the age of eighteen—when fertility was at its best and the risks to both mother and child were lowest.
People believed it, because the notice concluded by stating that these were the words of Lord Zhao. That seed was planted in everyone's hearts, and it was certain to bear good fruit in time.
…
Three carriages rolled through the entrance of Taoyuan Village.
The curtain of the lead carriage parted, and a middle-aged man with a magnificent beard leaned out to look around.
"So this is Taoyuan Village—the birthplace of Celestial Drunk?"
A beautiful woman pressed her face beside his, glanced around, and said, "My lord, the streets here are quite impressive—most market towns can't compare. It does feel rather desolate, though. Hardly anyone about."
"That's to be expected. From what I've heard, the place has only been under development for a year. To have come this far in a year is no small achievement."
The couple's identities were unclear, but from their tone it was evident they had tasted Celestial Drunk before.
The wholesale price of Celestial Drunk was now five hundred wen per jin; what it fetched on the outside market was anyone's guess. It was hardly something ordinary people could afford.
"Look for an inn. Find us a room."
"Yes, my lord." The driver nodded and urged the horses onward.
They drew up near the inn beside the bank, and the carriages came to a halt. The middle-aged man stepped down with his wife.
Besides the couple, there were also three children, two maidservants, and four attendants.
Eleven people in all.
A stable hand appeared to guide the driver around to the rear courtyard through a side lane.
The man led his family and maids inside first.
The inn's main hall was spacious and decorated with a certain refinement—though by the middle-aged man's standards, it was nothing remarkable.
The innkeeper came forward and invited the group to be seated.
"You've come from out of town, I take it, sir. How long will you be staying?"
"We'll see. Start with five days."
The wife stepped in to handle the particulars. "Three superior rooms and two standard rooms."
She had it all worked out: one room for herself and her husband, one for the eldest son of fourteen and the youngest of five, one for the twelve-year-old daughter and the two maidservants, and the remaining two ordinary rooms for the four attendants.
"Superior rooms are three yuan each, standard rooms are one yuan each. Three superior and two standard comes to eleven yuan. Five nights' stay plus a three-night deposit—eighty-eight yuan in total."
"Oh, so that's eight hundred and eighty wen."
"Yuan? What currency is that?" The middle-aged man looked intrigued.
"It's what we use here—mainly for convenience." The innkeeper reached into his pocket, produced some paper notes, and held them out for the man to examine.
The moment he saw the notes, the middle-aged man's brow furrowed. Baochao? Baochao were nothing good—and these people had some nerve! Printing their own money was a capital offense!
As though reading his thoughts, the innkeeper smiled and said, "These are simply vouchers, issued for convenience. They can be exchanged back for silver at the bank at any time."
"Our lord has also decreed that they must not be taken out of the village. These are not money!"
Rules are rules, and enforcement is another matter entirely.
"A needless complication," the middle-aged man muttered, but he accepted the explanation.
Then he took the four denominations of notes from the innkeeper's hand, and he froze again.
"Oh my, my lord, these are so beautiful! Let me see!" His wife practically snatched them away.
The children crowded around in fascination. Even the eldest son—fourteen years old, ordinarily the picture of composure—couldn't help craning his neck for a look.
Who could blame any of them? The middle-aged man himself was tilting his head sideways to stare.
"These are lovely. Innkeeper, could you exchange a few newer ones for me? I'd like to keep them as a collection."
"I'm afraid... our lord doesn't allow..."
"If you don't say anything and I don't say anything, how would your lord ever know? Isn't that right?"
"Besides, everyone here uses these things. I can always ask someone else to exchange them for me."
"Madam, please don't put me in a difficult position. If you truly like them, the bank next door is your best bet. You don't have to tell them what you want them for, and you can ask for newer ones."
"Very well then. Innkeeper, let's get the rooms sorted first."
The wife handed over a one-tael silver ingot and said, "Give me the change in your local currency."
"Of course." The innkeeper nodded, then counted out twelve yuan in return—one ten-yuan note and two two-yuan notes.
"Ha! These are mine now." The wife turned the notes over in her hands with a look of delight.
They really were lovely.
The innkeeper opened a ledger and began writing.
The middle-aged man caught a glimpse of the Arabic numerals on the page, and again he stopped short.
"Innkeeper, what script is that? I've never seen it before."
"Ah, it's a system our lord invented—simple, practical, and easy to read at a glance. Ever since I learned it, my work has been so much easier than before."
The middle-aged man half-wanted to ask for a lesson, but he was a juren—a man of standing. It was simply beneath his dignity to seek instruction from a petty innkeeper. He masked his curiosity and said instead, "Your lord is a remarkable man. I would very much like to call on him."
"He truly is something extraordinary—a person of almost supernatural ability," the innkeeper said proudly. "As for calling on him, I'm afraid that won't be easy. Our lord does not generally receive visitors."
"All affairs are handled perfectly well by his maidservants. Miss Jinyi, who serves as our village head, was originally just a maidservant our lord purchased."
"Miss Jinxiu likewise—look at this entire street, and the bank besides; she keeps it all running like clockwork."
"And then there are Miss Jinwen and Miss Jinyuan. All four of them are extraordinary—the four golden flowers of our village, you might say. And our lord has the Midas touch."
The middle-aged man nodded. Though he suspected the innkeeper was given to some exaggeration, this mysterious lord was clearly a figure worth knowing.
He was too proud to ask the innkeeper himself, but his son had no such reservations. "Innkeeper, might I ask you to teach me this script?"
"I beg your pardon, young master? You're serious?"
"Quite serious. Would you? Has your lord said anything about keeping it secret?"
"Not at all. Our lord doesn't concern himself with things like that. The village head has also said that whatever good things the village has should be spread as widely as possible—letting others benefit is itself a form of charity."
For the first time, the middle-aged man felt a genuine surge of respect. "Your village head possesses great virtue and broad vision. I truly would like to make her acquaintance."
"Calling on our lord may be difficult, but calling on the village head is quite manageable."
"But let's not get ahead of ourselves—allow me to show our distinguished guests to their rooms. Young master, if you're interested in this script, come find me afterward and I'll teach you. Getting to the point where you can use it for basic accounts isn't very difficult at all."