Chapter 29: Riverview Pavilion

A few days later, an imperial decree arrived in Yancheng, escorted by a detachment of the Imperial Guard. After reading the decree, Zhao Bin could not help but smile; he could now refine salt without worry.

Meanwhile, in the bustling market of the capital, a restaurant called Wangjiang Tower began to rise in popularity. However, it was not the cuisine that drew the crowds, but the banners and couplets hung outside, which immediately ignited the capital's literary circles. This was part of Zhao Bin’s marketing strategy for Xing’er. Following his instructions, the restaurant had been draped in red silks and ribbons for five days prior to opening, with its signboard covered to create an air of mystery. A massive red banner hung from the roof to the ground on the left side.

It bore the first couplet:
"Wangjiang Tower, watching the river flow; on Wangjiang Tower, one watches the river flow. The river tower is eternal, the river flow is eternal."

On the right hung a blank banner. A notice posted at the door read: "A reward of ten thousand taels of gold to anyone who can compose a matching couplet." This notice sent ripples through the city like a stone cast into a pond. Scholars from teahouses, dandy young masters from brothels, and diligent tutors from academies all flocked to the scene. As they approached, they muttered indignantly, "Who is so arrogant to offer ten thousand gold for a couplet? I want to see if they can actually produce it." "Exactly! A mere restaurant owner pretending to be a man of letters—it’s laughable!"

Within an hour, the area around Wangjiang Tower was packed, as was the Chunshui Bridge and the opposite bank, choking the streets with spectators. The crowd began to debate heatedly. "Young Master Wang, this couplet is truly marvelous. Do you have a response?"

"It is indeed profound. I find myself unable to come up with a match," he replied.

"This is so difficult! Who wrote this?"

"Brother Liu, you are a man of great talent. Have you thought of a second line?"

The person addressed, feeling the pressure of being singled out in public while unable to provide an answer, replied testily, "Why ask me? Can’t you think of it yourself?"

Others attempted to offer lines, only to be jeered and dismissed by the crowd: "Do you even know how to compose a couplet? The poetic intent is nowhere near! Step down, step down!" The would-be poets retreated back into the crowd, dejected.

Seeing that the time was ripe, Xing’er said to Zhang Guide, "Shopkeeper Zhang, it is your turn."

Zhang Guide looked at those beside him, took a deep breath, and picked up a copper gong from the table, stepping out onto the second-floor balcony. Facing the clamoring crowd below, he took another deep breath and struck the gong with force. The crowd fell silent, looking up at the figure on the second floor.

"Honorable gentlemen and young masters, my name is Zhang, and I am the manager of Wangjiang Tower. This couplet was set by my master. Anyone who can match it shall receive a reward of ten thousand taels of gold as promised. Furthermore, Wangjiang Tower will officially open in five days, offering unique delicacies never before seen in the Great Xia. We welcome you all to come and taste them then."

"May I ask, what is your master’s surname and from which scholarly lineage does he hail?" someone shouted from below.

"My master’s surname is Wen. He is not from a prestigious family, so you may not have heard of him."

The crowd below began to whisper among themselves: "Surname Wen? Is there a prominent clan by that name?"

"I don’t know. Never heard of it."

"They said he isn’t from a prestigious family."

"Even if not a top-tier clan, he must be a local notable."

"That’s not necessarily true. There are countless scholars in the world who aren't from notable families."

"Perhaps not, but one must have ties to the powerful; otherwise, no matter how much you study, you cannot become an official."

Great Xia had a peculiar phenomenon: there were many scholars and many officials, but it all depended on whose books you read and whose faction you served. The great aristocratic clans ruled the land. Those relying solely on their own bloodlines could never achieve power; they needed help. Thus, they established academies within their spheres of influence to select usable talent. Many small and medium-sized local families would send their sons to these academies, hoping they would be noticed by the families controlling the imperial court, thereby gaining positions to benefit their own kin. Those who failed to reach the court could serve in local government or work for the clans, receiving their protection. Even those in the imperial court had to choose: were they servants of the Zhang family, the Xue family, or the Emperor?

Because the Six Ministries were dominated by these great clans, the only exceptions among the twelve vice-ministers were Shangguan Lingyu of the Ministry of Rites, Gongsun Bujin of the Ministry of Justice, and Yang Guozhong of the Ministry of War. Shangguan and Gongsun were scholars handpicked by Zhao Wuji, while Yang Guozhong, like Ding Hu, was a warrior who had risen through the bloodshed of the battlefield.

"Since he is not from a prestigious family, why should we believe he can produce ten thousand taels of gold?" someone shouted.

"Exactly! Don't be afraid of bursting your own boastful bubble!" others chimed in.

"My master says that under the Emperor’s feet, to cheat a guest is to cheat Heaven itself," Zhang Guide said, following the rehearsed script. "Whoever matches the couplet will receive the gold. If we cannot pay, you may report us to the local magistrate or the Dali Temple. Surely you do not fear that there is no justice to be found in the capital?" Although he spoke calmly, sweat was dripping down his back.

The challenger fell silent. The manager had laid a trap; to express further doubt was to imply that the Great Xia government was not to be trusted.

"Within five days, whoever can match this couplet may come to Wangjiang Tower to claim the reward," Zhang concluded, bowing to the crowd before retreating inside.

The streets remained bustling. Some left in frustration, others memorized the couplet to seek help elsewhere, and new curious onlookers continued to arrive. Within a day, the news of Wangjiang Tower and its ten-thousand-gold couplet had spread throughout the capital.

The second day saw more curious crowds, but no one could provide a match. On the third day, just as the crowd remained fixated on the first couplet, a cry of surprise drew all eyes back to the tower. "Look! A new banner!"

They looked up to see a second red banner hanging down, inscribed in bold brush strokes: "Smoke locks the willow by the pond." A blank red banner hung beside it.

The street before Wangjiang Tower erupted once more. Scholars, students, and noble young ladies flocked to the scene. On the second floor of a teahouse across the river, a slender young man with delicate features remarked with a smirk, "Interesting."

Just as he spoke, a charming, seductive voice replied from behind, "Oh, which handsome young master is this? Why, it is Sister Qingxue."

The young man in disguise turned to see a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, dressed in emerald green with a white fox-fur hat, holding a hand warmer. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with porcelain skin, cherry lips, and willow-leaf eyebrows.

The disguised girl replied expressionlessly, "So it is you, Sister Ningyao. On such a cold day, why are you out instead of staying home?"

"Naturally, I came to meet you," the charming girl replied with a seductive smile.

"Are you not afraid the First Prince will hear of this? I heard Minister Xue has betrothed you to him as a concubine," replied Fang Qingxue, granddaughter of the Minister of War. The other girl was Xue Ningyao, granddaughter of the Minister of Revenue.

"Hmph, what is wrong with being a concubine, especially to the First Prince? You, sister, are already past your coming-of-age; you must be twenty by now. Still unmarried? Could it be you are waiting for the Eighth Prince? If I recall correctly, he is only eight years old, hee hee hee."

"I fear you will be disappointed, sister. I shall choose my own husband; I am no one’s bargaining chip," Fang Qingxue said, leading her attendants away.

Xue Ningyao watched her go, unbothered. In her eyes, the imperial family was the best choice—a belief instilled in her since childhood. Their mission was to win political capital for the Xue clan. She gazed at Wangjiang Tower, whispering, "Choose your own? Hmph, one chooses the powerful. Are you going to choose the man who writes these couplets? How ridiculous."

Before the first couplet was solved, a second had appeared, fueling the obsession of the capital’s elite. By the fourth day, Wangjiang Tower began selling reservation tokens. Only those who bought them could dine there the next day. They cost one hundred taels for a table in the hall and one hundred and fifty for a private room. To the wealthy young masters, this was a pittance. The forty-five tokens sold out instantly. With over ten thousand taels in revenue in a single day, the staff were ecstatic.

By midday on the fifth day, the restaurant opened to a packed house. Inside, the stoves were lit, and the tables were set with copper pots, fresh ingredients, and wine. Following the instructions provided on the tables, the guests inaugurated the era of "hot pot" dining in Great Xia. Before spring arrived, Wangjiang Tower had become the premier gathering place for literati, nobles, and wealthy merchants, drawing patrons away even from the capital’s most famous brothels.