Chapter Forty-Eight: After Finishing This Jar, Fifty More Remain

"That's right, it's a bet. Do you accept it or not?"

The innkeeper’s face flickered with uncertainty. In all his years running this tavern, never had anyone brazenly come up to him demanding to drink themselves into a stupor. If there was one thing that the tavern never lacked, it was wine. No matter how much of a tippler one was, they could always be made to succumb to the drink. What wine merchant would ever fear someone with a bottomless capacity?

But Xu Wenshan carried himself with such confidence that the innkeeper began to suspect some sort of trickery. No matter how much alcohol a man could hold, cup after cup would eventually bring anyone down. This fellow, with his unremarkable appearance and bearing nothing of a wealthy patron, where did he get the confidence to challenge the tavern itself?

Still, a businessman never turns down a deal. The innkeeper gritted his teeth and declared, "I’ll take your bet!"

"Excellent!" Xu Wenshan replied. "Bring out the wine!"

A jar of wine was placed on the table.

With a sharp crack, Xu Wenshan broke the seal, lifted the jar, and drank deeply. The wine gurgled down his throat, and soon the jar was emptied. He turned it upside down and shook it— not a single drop remained.

"Another!"

Three more jars were set before him.

Unbeknownst to anyone, more and more onlookers had gathered at the tavern, passing along the news.

"Has he finished yet?"

"He has! Another three jars!"

"How many now?"

"Seven!"

Xu Wenshan slapped the table. "More!"

By the time he had finished ten jars, the junior waiter whispered nervously to the innkeeper, "That’s ten jars already, and the man’s face isn’t even flushed. Should we bring more?"

"Keep going! I have plenty of wine. I refuse to believe he can’t be drunk under the table! The more he drinks, the more I earn. Why should I be afraid?"

With a loud smack, five more jars were brought out.

...

That day, the tavern became a spectacle. The junior staff carried jar after jar of fine wine up from the cellar, and the diners abandoned their meals to crowd upstairs and watch the drinking contest.

"Fifty-one!"

"Fifty-two!"

"Fifty-three!"

Standing amidst the crowd, Xu Wenshan lifted each jar, broke the seal, and drained it in one go. Without a moment’s hesitation, he reached for the next, pouring it down his throat as before, never pausing for breath.

As the wine flowed into him, his belly swelled slightly, then slowly shrank, only to bulge again with the next jar— in and out, like a firefly’s glow.

With each jar emptied, the crowd shouted out the tally. Each number called made the innkeeper a shade paler; by thirty jars he looked as white as a European, by fifty as ghastly as a zombie bride.

Sitting at the head of the assembly, Xu Jing’s own expression shifted again and again. She had thought Xu Wenshan was nothing more than a common peddler from the backwoods, his boasts about drinking mere bravado. Yet, in such a vast world, there were indeed wonders and marvels— and today she’d encountered one herself.

If she had once considered Xu Wenshan a mere buffoon, now he had truly piqued her interest.

"Fifty-five jars! He’s downed fifty-five jars and still hasn't fallen— he’s still going!"

The crowd was beside itself, running about and spreading the word: "Today in Shaxian, a hero of drink has emerged, quaffing more than fifty jars of fine wine without even pausing for breath. Drunk? He should have burst by now! And he hasn’t even taken a single trip to the privy— truly a marvel!"

Newcomers pressed in, eager to know what was happening. Those in front relayed the story: "The sons of the Jade Cutters’ Guild brought in a stranger, who has downed over fifty jars without getting drunk!" The onlookers pointed at the empty jars littering the floor, counting along until they reached the one in Xu Wenshan’s hand, then joined the chorus:

"Fifty-six!"

Meanwhile, the innkeeper and his staff watched with an entirely different mindset. With every jar Xu Wenshan swallowed, they silently willed him to collapse.

But for all their wishes, Xu Wenshan remained steady, while the innkeeper himself was about to keel over.

No one knew that at this moment, Xu Wenshan was growing anxious. Not because he was reaching his limit, but because he feared he might have drunk too much. He had only just arrived in Shaxian, and already he had drawn so much attention. If the wrong people took notice and word spread to the righteous authorities, someone would surely investigate, and sooner or later, his identity would be exposed.

But the moment the scent of wine reached his nose, he simply could not stop. Not out of his own greed, but because the spirit-worm in his belly craved wine.

Ever since that day when Lu Ze had fed him the spirit-worm, he hadn’t touched a drop. In Luhe Valley, the grain was barely enough to eat, and his father, Xu Changshui, was no drinker, so there was never any wine to be had. Now, in Shaxian, he was finally able to drink his fill, and the spirit-worm within him swam blissfully in an ocean of wine, endlessly absorbing the liquor, refining it into demonic power, and sating itself.

While the spirit-worm drank its fill, Xu Wenshan himself absorbed not a trace of alcohol. His expression remained astonishingly unchanged, and his voice bore not a hint of drunkenness.

A junior waiter hurried upstairs and whispered something in the innkeeper’s ear. The innkeeper’s face turned from white to ashen.

"No more wine? Why didn’t you say so sooner? Don’t you see the gentlemen here haven’t had their fill yet? If you don’t bring me more wine, you’ll answer to me!"

"But there really isn’t any left..." the junior waiter protested, aggrieved.

"Then go and find some!"

"Enough," Xu Jing, seated above, finally spoke. "If there’s no more wine, let it be. Today, Brother Xu has drunk the tavern dry— a tale to be remembered."

The innkeeper’s face was the very picture of misery. It might be a fine story for the townsfolk, but for him, his tavern was nothing more than a backdrop.

Xu Jing continued, "We have all been well entertained today. I suggest we disperse and let the innkeeper get back to his business."

Back to business? With all my wine gone, what business is left to do? The innkeeper thought bitterly, but dared not utter a word.

Xu Wenshan patted the innkeeper’s shoulder. "Am I drunk yet?"

"No," the innkeeper ground out through clenched teeth.

"Do you still stand by your earlier promise?"

The innkeeper would have liked to say no, but his reputation was at stake. He’d been running his tavern in Shaxian for years— to go back on his word now would ruin his name.

"You’ve won..." he sighed, utterly defeated.

A roar of excitement erupted from the crowd, more jubilant than if they had drunk fifty jars themselves.

...

Once outside the tavern, everyone was ready to return home. Xu Jing kindly pointed out lodging for Xu Wenshan, then prepared to leave herself.

"Brother Xu, though our meeting was by chance, it was a pleasure. But all good things must come to an end— we must part ways now."

Xu Wenshan saluted her, saying, "Indeed. Let’s meet again if fate allows."

Xu Jing nodded and was about to mount her horse when she paused, as if recalling something. "Tomorrow afternoon, there will be a book fair at the Ji family’s bookstore. Would you be interested in joining me?"

"A book fair?" Xu Wenshan was bewildered.