Chapter Thirty-Eight: Three Bowls and You Can't Climb the Stairs!

From the Yin-Shang dynasty onward, the people of the nation gradually adopted the custom of two meals a day. To meet the demands of daily labor, the morning meal was substantial and known as the “Grand Meal,” while the afternoon meal was simpler and called the “Small Meal.”

Of course, this two-meal routine was typical for ordinary households. The elite and wealthy families were not bound by such rules—they could enjoy three or even four meals a day. When bored with their own kitchen fare, they would gather with friends at a restaurant to savor delicacies.

The county seat of Wu’an was a prosperous town, boasting dozens of large restaurants and taverns. Among them, none could rival Drunken Immortal Pavilion for its lavish decor and unrivaled cuisine.

Yet today, Drunken Immortal Pavilion was different from usual. In front of its entrance hung a huge white banner, boldly inked with five characters: “Three Bowls, No Going Upstairs!”

Several young attendants stood by the door, along with a rosewood table upon which sat three large blue-and-white porcelain bowls, each capable of holding more than a pound of liquid.

“What’s in those bowls? So clear—could it be water?”

“Fool, don’t you smell the strong aroma of alcohol? That’s three big bowls of fine liquor.”

“Such crystal-clear wine, it’s truly rare!”

...

Drunken Immortal Pavilion stood on the bustling main street, travelers and merchants passing ceaselessly. This peculiar scene drew many curious onlookers, who pressed the attendants for answers: What does ‘Three Bowls, No Going Upstairs’ mean?

“Listen closely, honored guests. Our Drunken Immortal Pavilion has recently begun selling a new liquor, named ‘Erguotou.’ It is rich, fragrant, and potent, with four qualities perfectly balanced. Its taste lingers endlessly, and it would not be exaggerating to call it the finest brew under heaven. Our proprietor has declared: If any guest can drink three large bowls in succession and ascend to the third floor of Drunken Immortal Pavilion, they will be treated to a sumptuous feast free of charge.”

“Really? No money needed, free food and drink?”

“That’s right. Anyone who succeeds gets to eat and drink for free—not a single copper coin required. Drunken Immortal Pavilion stands by its word. Still, I must advise you: this ‘Erguotou’ is exceedingly powerful. It burns like a blade going down and like fire in the belly. If you lack courage for strong drink, do not attempt it lightly!”

“Wow!”

Hearing the attendants’ explanation, the crowd erupted in excitement. Everyone knew that traditional fermented wines were mild; even those with moderate tolerance could handle three or five bowls without getting drunk.

Even if this ‘Erguotou’ was as strong as claimed, how strong could it really be? Three bowls and no going upstairs? Might as well say pies fall from the sky! Surely, it wouldn’t take long for Drunken Immortal Pavilion to be ruined by drunken revelers!

But despite their skepticism, many in the crowd were itching to try, yet no one dared step forward.

First, human nature is suspicious. Though the attendants’ words were clear, people doubted such good fortune, fearing hidden catches.

Second, everyone knew Drunken Immortal Pavilion belonged to the Duke of Qi’s estate. If they really bankrupted it, what if there was retaliation?

For these reasons, the crowd hesitated.

But among a hundred people, there are all sorts—some cautious, others fearless. A burly, dark-faced man stepped forward, ready to take on the challenge.

“Haha, free food and drink, luck from the heavens! Old Zhao will be the first to try!”

“Look, it’s Master Zhao!”

The crowd recognized him as Zhao Erniu, a foreman among the laborers at Laoshui dock—renowned not only for his strength but also for his legendary drinking ability.

---

Zhao Erniu once won a bet by first drinking a giant jar of wine, then carrying a three-hundred-pound load for eight hundred steps without faltering—a feat that made him famous.

Now, with such a champion attempting the challenge, Drunken Immortal Pavilion was sure to lose a meal.

“Hmm, this truly is fine wine. Old Zhao has tasted countless good liquors, but never anything as fierce as this. Today, I am blessed.” Zhao Erniu picked up a bowl, inhaled its aroma, and his bull-like eyes sparkled. He took a mighty gulp...

Instantly, a wave of heat surged from his tongue to his stomach, spreading through his whole body, making his blood boil as if scorched by fire.

Excellent wine—undoubtedly top-tier!

Yet its potency was overwhelming; it could be called soul-shattering. An ordinary person would be senseless after less than half a bowl. Even a seasoned drinker like himself doubted he could withstand three full bowls.

Even if he managed to finish them, he’d be too drunk to walk, let alone climb stairs. ‘Three Bowls, No Going Upstairs’ was no idle boast. Thoughts of a free banquet faded; Zhao Erniu lost confidence in an instant.

But with so many watching, he couldn’t back down. A true man cares not for drunken disgrace, but losing face is another matter.

He gritted his teeth and drained the bowl, showing the empty bottom to the crowd, which erupted in cheers.

In Tang dynasty culture, drinking prowess was highly respected; those who could hold their liquor were admired and often promoted in official circles.

Next, Zhao Erniu took several deep breaths, lifted the second bowl, and drained it—another round of applause.

But as he reached for the third bowl, a tidal wave of intoxication swept over him. The world spun, his head filled with dizzy butterflies...

He tried to steady himself, but his body refused to cooperate. After a few shaky steps, he collapsed to the ground, snoring thunderously.

Drunken Immortal Pavilion had anticipated this. Several attendants carried Zhao Erniu to the inn behind the restaurant, where he could rest until sober.

“What a powerful liquor! Just two bowls put Master Zhao down. In Wu’an County, his drinking is legendary—they say he can handle several jars without getting drunk.”

“No wonder the Pavilion’s attendants are so confident. Where did they get this Erguotou?”

“No idea. I heard it’s newly brewed, but who made it? If only we could meet the master, it could be a path to riches. Such fine liquor will surely sell like wildfire!”

...

Seeing Zhao Erniu fail, the crowd was abuzz—some shocked by Erguotou’s strength, others scheming for profit.

But none could imagine that the creator of Erguotou was no legendary master, but a boy less than six feet tall and only fifteen years old.

Let us return to the story.

Soon, another middle-aged man with a decent tolerance stepped forward to try the challenge.

But his drinking was not as formidable as Zhao Erniu’s; after just a bowl and a half, he slid under the table... The attendants carried him to the inn, joining Zhao Erniu.

To sum up, in one morning, twenty-eight avid drinkers attempted the challenge, and not one succeeded.

Among them, only one managed to drain all three bowls and staggered toward the third floor, but as soon as he touched the stairs to the second floor, he tumbled down, caught just in time by the attendants.

Thus, ‘Three Bowls, No Going Upstairs’ became a sensation, spreading rapidly...

---

By the first day, half the people in Wu’an County knew the tale.

By the second day, the other half had heard.

By the third day, even those outside the county seat learned of it.

Erguotou’s reputation was now firmly established.

Next, sales officially began. Li Zhao had already set the price: fifteen strings of cash for one dou of wine!

In the markets of Guanzhong, fifteen strings could buy a sturdy ox—now it would only buy a dou of wine. Wasn’t that too expensive?

To be honest, the price was indeed steep, but there was reason behind it.

First, in Guanzhong, ordinary turbid wine cost three hundred coins per dou. (Du Fu once wrote, “Early I drink a dou of wine, just three hundred bronze coins...” Alas, the poet sage was poor and drank only cheap wine.)

Top-grade clear wine cost ten strings per dou. (Li Bai wrote, “Chen Wang once feasted at Pingle, a dou of wine for ten thousand coins...” The poet immortal was well-off and drank only the finest.)

If Erguotou were priced lower, it would devastate the wine market—turbid and clear wines would stop selling, breweries would shut down, countless people would lose their livelihoods, and many would curse Erguotou.

To hate Erguotou was to hate Li Zhao.

The consequences of widespread resentment need not be explained.

Therefore, pricing Erguotou high avoids conflict with other wines and prevents disaster.

Second, Erguotou is a luxury wine, intended for dignitaries, landlords, and wealthy merchants. These people have an age-old habit: they want not the best, but the most expensive!

For them, consumption is not only material but also a matter of spiritual satisfaction—a way to prove their status with money.

For these reasons, Li Zhao set a high price for Erguotou.

Of course, this was a necessary compromise in the current environment.

Li Zhao resolved that once he had enough wealth and power, he would lower Erguotou’s price, making it a common commodity.

Then, even farmers and dock workers, after a hard day’s labor, could enjoy a couple of cups to ease their fatigue and sleep well.

Erguotou is meant for the common people, after all!