Shipin Dalizheng

Since Rong Qi had already beaten someone, the incident of Daya being thrown down could be ignored.

Everyone turned their attention to the wine again. Hearing that Lu Ji's wine was of poor quality, Chuncao's face turned pale. "Didn't that mean we lost money?"

Rong An said, "It's not a loss, but we villagers drank most of his wine, and I'm afraid the rest would be hard for you to drink."

As he was speaking, a villager outside shouted, "The wine is here, there are a lot of carts, and they said it was all bought by Miss Chuncao."

Ten ox carts came into the village one after another. The villagers were amazed. Looking at the jars of wine piled on them, they all sighed that Miss Chuncao had bought up all the jars in the wine shop.

They didn't expect that they would actually buy out the entire wine shop.

There were so many people that it wasn't enough for everyone to get a jar, so all the wine was unloaded and, under Gui Ergou's guidance, piled into a side room that was temporarily used as a warehouse.

The shopkeeper of Lu Ji came in person with the car. He saw two or three hundred people busy at work here. It was more lively than other weddings. But as for weddings, there was not a trace of red.

He curiously asked a villager, "What is this for?"

The person being questioned was a villager named Li. He was not very clear about Rong Tang's origins. He only knew that he was the heir found by the Jian'an Earl's Mansion.

He said to Shopkeeper Lu, "He's the legitimate grandson of the Jian'an Earl's Mansion in the capital. He's returned to his roots. The Rong family is very happy and is holding a grand banquet today. Shopkeeper Lu, you must open your eyes and recognize Young Master Rong. He is a noble man who will inherit the title in the future. He is a great customer."

Unexpectedly, Shopkeeper Lu's face turned pale and he was on the verge of collapse. He had already received a deposit of ten taels for these ten carts of wine, and there was still forty taels to be paid on delivery. Was it going to be all wasted?

He swayed and swayed, and Rong An held him up. "Shopkeeper Lu, what's wrong? Are you hot or tired?"

When Manager Lu saw that it was the accountant of Yang's Liquor Store, he panicked even more, thinking that he had been cheated.

Rong An was ordered to talk to Manager Lu to discuss the transfer of his wine shop. He warmly welcomed him into the yard, and the two went into an empty room to talk alone.

After a long argument, Shopkeeper Lu learned that this Young Master Rong was the recently recovered master of the Jian'an Earl's Mansion who had been living away from home for many years. He was not only not a fellow traveler with the Yang family, but was actually an enemy who stole the family's property.

Only then did he regain his composure.

In the main room, Gui Ergou brought a jar, cracked it open, and scooped a small bowl of wine for Rong Tang to see.

The wine is turbid, slightly impurities, and slightly yellow in color. A sip of it tastes bland, probably around 20 degrees at most.

Rong Tang finally understood why ancient people used to describe a pot of turbid wine in their poems and essays. Of course, there were descriptions of fine wine, but the only wine that ordinary people could afford was about this level.

Chuncao asked nervously, "Master, did I make a bad purchase?"

"It's not a loss." The Third Master said, "Shopkeeper Lu is quite honest in his business. The worst wine in his shop usually costs twelve cents. Ten cents is not expensive."

In fact, it is not a matter of whether it is expensive or not. Just like Rong An said, this kind of wine is only drunk by villagers. With Rong Tang's status, he cannot use it to entertain guests or give it as a gift.

Chuncao probably knew that she had wasted her money, so she pursed her lips and said nothing.

Rong Tang pondered and said, "It's okay. Move ten jars out first. I can use the rest."

Rong San and the others looked at him sideways, thinking that since Rong Tang said it was useful, the final value of these several thousand kilograms of broken wine would be more than just fifty taels.

The aroma of meat filled the air outside the yard. The cooked meat was served in pots and placed on the table. Other dishes, such as chicken, duck, or vegetarian dishes, were placed in large bowls and arranged neatly.

The wafting aroma made the children's tongues stick out and they gathered around the meat pot from a distance.

The aunties and wives who were in charge of cooking the meat laughed and scolded, "You naughty boys, look how greedy you are. There's plenty of meat today, enough for you to eat. Go and play somewhere else, and come back after the adults have finished eating."

The children all watched with eager eyes, wishing they could just suck the meat into their mouths with their noses.

After the dishes and meat were laid out, someone went in and called out to the elders, telling them that the banquet was ready to begin.

A table was set up in the main hall, with Rong Tang sitting at the head of the table. He had originally wanted to have one of the other masters sit there, but the Third Master had forced him to sit there, addressing him formally as "Young Master" instead of the friendly "Tang Ge'er" he had used on the first day.

"Young Master, our entire Rong Village will be relying on you in the future. We old bones dare not act like we are seniors at this time. So, except for the three of us old fellows, we will shamelessly call you Grandpa. Everyone else, regardless of their seniority, should just call you by your first name. Otherwise, some people who are not tactful, used to being the elder, might offend you seriously or not if they are not paying attention. Moreover, it will not be conducive to your future authority. As for the Li family and the Wang family, they are of no generation to us, so you should call them what you want."

This is also what Rong Tang has always felt embarrassed about. Although he has a high status, his generation is low. Children as old as cats in Rongjia Village may all be his uncles. It is indeed difficult to establish his authority by addressing them one by one according to their generation.

The Sixth and Eighth Masters also nodded frequently. They and the Third Master were cousins, and among the oldest elders in Rong Village. The other families were all members of the same clan, not far removed from their three branches. The only one with the most distant blood relationship was Rong Tang.

"Since that's the case, I won't be polite. The three great masters, please take a seat. Clan leader Li, Clan leader Wang, please take a seat."

Clan leader Li and Clan leader Wang were both fellow villagers who had followed the Rong family to Beijing. They had always known that they were from outsiders and depended on the Jian'an Earl's Mansion for their livelihood. In matters big or small, as long as they were not excessive, they would follow the lead of the Rong family.

At this moment, they were treated by Rong Tang as if they were the same as the three great masters of the Rong family. They were flattered and responded politely, sitting at the bottom.

Outside the yard, more than a dozen tables were gradually filled. Rong Dashan arranged for several people to bring two pots of meat and vegetables, a jar of wine, and a basket of bread to the cemetery for the villagers who were guarding Jin Yaoyang.

When he turned around, he saw that the seat where he originally sat was occupied by Rong Xiaobao, who was snuggling in his father Rong Erhe's arms, yelling at him to pick up a big pork chop for him to eat.

Rong Erhe doted on his son so much that he was the first to reach for his chopsticks and picked up a large pork chop and placed it next to his son. It was not known whether he really didn't see it or just forgot. At this time, his eldest brother was still standing beside him, looking embarrassed, not knowing what to do.

Everyone at the table looked at each other in bewilderment. In the countryside, it was customary for men to sit at tables with other men, and children were not allowed to sit at tables. It would have been fine if there were enough seats, but the table was full of eight people, and the clan leader's eldest son was left without a seat.

Looking at other tables, they were also full. Some people had already opened the mud seals on the wine jars, sniffing the aroma of the wine, their saliva dripping.

Even though it is just the lowest quality wine, for the villagers who can afford to buy two petals for a penny, they only have the chance to drink a few sips during the Chinese New Year or when someone gets married.

Rong Dashan stood there frozen, at a loss for words. He was the eldest son of the clan leader, the recognized heir apparent, yet he had three daughters and no sons. How could a childless man still be qualified to be clan leader?