Chapter Seventy-Nine: True Fragrance

“My dear husband, today I visited the assistant instructor Xue Yi’s home and admired chrysanthemums in their back garden. His wife brought out something called ‘Six Spirits Floral Essence.’ Its fragrance was so captivating that, once dabbed on the skin, it lingers for days. I specially begged for two drops and put them on my wrist and chest—come, smell it, come closer…” In Yongping Ward of Chang’an, a beautiful woman in her thirties sat beneath the lamplight, eager to show off her treasure to her husband, who had just returned home after a long day of toil at the magistrate’s office.

“Is that so?” Her husband, his hair and beard already white, furrowed his brow, barely feigning interest. Yet as he caught the scent, his eyes shone brighter than the candles on the wall. “Remarkable! This isn’t some ordinary floral essence; it’s clearly the exotic perfume from the Western lands, tribute from the Dashi Kingdom! When Her Majesty the Empress was on the throne, I witnessed such perfume with my own eyes. All the noblewomen of Chang’an considered it an honor to receive even a single drop…”

Halfway through his speech, he suddenly shoved aside his young wife, whose face had flushed deep red, and scowled, “Xue Yi is but a mere assistant instructor—how could he afford such a costly item? There must be some secret behind this. I must get to the bottom of it!”

Caught entirely off guard, the young woman stumbled, her rosy cheeks turning instantly ashen. She rushed after her husband and seized his white beard, “You old fool, stand right there! What nonsense are you spouting in the middle of the night? Secrets, always secrets—are all the officials in Tang blind and deaf, except for you, the only clever one?”

“Let go, let go! My dear, please let go—it hurts, it hurts so much!” The elderly official, easily thirty years her senior, struggled to assert his authority as a husband. Crying out in pain, he tried to pry her hands away. “I won’t investigate, I won’t! All right? Back then, this perfume only ever leaked out of the palace in tiny amounts, selling on the black market for twenty coins a drop—rare as gold! Who knows what kind of luck Xue Yi stumbled upon…”

“Oh, you old fool, where are you pushing me—!” Her scolding turned into a coquettish shriek, abruptly cutting off his explanation.

Looking up, the white-haired official found himself face-to-face with a pink undergarment, and, at the same moment, the intoxicating fragrance wafted over.

His heart pounded wildly, his hands and arms losing all restraint. His words of explanation melted into laughter and cajoling. “My love, I’m sorry, it was an accident. Six Spirits Floral Essence, is it? If Xue Yi can afford it, so can we. Tomorrow I’ll send the steward to buy it for you. Even if I have to search all of Chang’an, I’ll get it for you!”

“Old fool, you’re being ridiculous! No need to search all over Chang’an. At the West Market, there’s a new shop called Six Spirits, opened solely for this floral essence.” The young woman lifted her plump finger and tapped his forehead. “But there’s no stock yet, only samples. You must pay a deposit first and wait five days to collect. And men aren’t allowed inside—only women accompanied by their maids.”

“No stock? Then how did Xue Yi’s wife get her hands on it? I don’t believe it, I must—” His voice grew muffled, fading into heavy breaths.

“Husband, don’t get worked up. Listen to me! Xue Yi’s wife’s cousin’s third daughter is married to the eldest son of Magistrate Guo of Jincheng Ward. The Six Spirits company is apparently owned by the Guo family. I know you love me, but there’s no need to make enemies with the Guos for nothing. It’s only a matter of waiting five or six days. Oh, you stubborn old man, can’t you even wait long enough for a conversation…”

“I can’t wait, not even a moment. What did you call this essence? The scent, it’s enchanting…”

Red candles flickered. That night, rain lashed against the windows, and the winds howled.

“My love, look what I brought you today!” On another evening, in a refined courtyard in Xiuxiang Ward, Zheng Yi, a senior scholar, presented an exquisite white porcelain bottle to his wife with the pride of a child offering a treasure.

“A porcelain bottle? What could possibly be inside?” His wife, a lady of the noble Cui clan of Qinghe, cast a dismissive glance at it and laughed, pursing her lips. “You’re home late again—just say so. You’re a man, it’s natural to have a wide circle of friends. I’m not some ignorant shrew to quarrel with you over it. Wait—what’s that scent? It’s as if peach blossoms have bloomed again…”

“Don’t underestimate this bottle. It contains Six Spirits Floral Essence. You can’t even buy it on the market. I only got this bottle because I’m close with the Marquis’ son, Duan Huaijian.” Zheng Yi grinned with pride, quickly clasped his hand around the bottle, and hid it behind his back. “Well, since you don’t fancy it, I’ll give it to someone else tomorrow…”

“Don’t you dare!” Madam Zheng’s almond eyes widened as she darted behind her husband and snatched the bottle with lightning speed. “It really is Six Spirits Floral Essence—a full bottle! I saw Lady Liu showing off with it this afternoon, and that woman claimed you can only use two drops on your wrist each time, and the scent lasts three days! Tomorrow, I’ll invite her for tea and let her have her fill of the fragrance!”

“Don’t do that!” Zheng Yi laughed, slipping an arm around his wife’s waist as they strolled toward the bed. “Let me show you—just two drops are enough each time. One on the wrist—give me your hand, I’ll show you. And the other, well, here’s the best place…”

The fragrance suffused the room, as if peach blossoms had burst into bloom.

At that very hour, under different lamplight, the scents of peach, chrysanthemum, orange blossom, and jasmine drifted through many homes, intoxicating countless men and women in the gentle night breeze.

“Have you heard, Senior Secretary Li? There’s a strange new shop at the West Market. They only sell one thing, and right now they only have samples. If you want the real product, you have to pay a deposit and wait patiently!”

The next morning, the alleys and avenues of Chang’an buzzed with gossip.

“How could I not have heard? Sigh! My wife and Lady Zhou, the registrar’s wife, have even ended their friendship over that nonsense.” The man addressed, Senior Secretary Li, sighed miserably.

“What? They’ve had a falling out? Did Lady Zhou manage to get the essence early?” The other man’s eyes widened, then he pressed on, full of hope.

“Lady Zhou’s brother works at the Market Exchange Office and got his hands on a few samples. My wife begged her for some, but Lady Zhou suddenly put on airs!”

“What a mess! Is it really worth it? Women are so petty! Senior Secretary Li, where are you off to? Aren’t you due to report for duty?”

“Where else? I’m going to the Guo family! That old fox still owes me a favor. The Six Spirits Floral Essence was invented by their second son and Ren Qiong’s eldest. I refuse to believe they’re out of samples!”

“Wait for me! Don’t go without me, Li! Don’t worry, I won’t take any samples—just want to see if I can get on the priority list. The first batch is only five hundred bottles, and if you order now, you’ll be waiting till next month!”

…

“My goodness, I didn’t believe it before, but it’s true—Chang’an is paved with gold!”

At noon, Ren Cong stared dumbfounded at the long account ledger on his desk.

In just four days—from the grand opening of the Six Spirits shop at the West Market to the complete reservation of the first thousand bottles—every bottle of floral essence was spoken for! And this was with only porcelain sample bottles on offer, no actual stock for sale. If they switched to glass bottles, in four colors and a dozen designs, with the real product on the shelves, Ren Cong could hardly imagine how wildly popular Six Spirits Floral Essence would become!

He wasn’t a stranger to money. In fact, a thousand strings of cash in total sales was nothing for a scion like him! His father, Ren Qiong, earned profits hundreds of times that amount every year from the family’s businesses. Even Ren Cong’s own yearly expenses exceeded that sum.

But those profits came from leveraging hundreds of thousands in capital, thousands of managers and clerks, and the influence of the Duke of Bao’s household. After paying all the staff, deducting the share remitted to the Duke, and smoothing things over up and down the chain, only ten to twenty percent landed in the Ren family’s coffers.

Once the necessary reserves and outlays were subtracted, the household’s actual monthly “ready money” was around eight or nine hundred strings. And now, that same amount of “ready money” was staring him in the face, written plainly on his ledger.

Yes, this was real money! In other words, he could spend all eight or nine hundred strings immediately, or invest in land or property, and it wouldn’t affect the normal operation or future growth of the Six Spirits company in the slightest!

As for the cost of producing the next batch of essence, Ren Cong had no worries at all. He had already mastered the “water bath–condensation” method for distilling alcohol, and, under Zhang Qian’s guidance, had begun extracting essential oils from flowers. He knew the cost structure of Six Spirits Floral Essence perfectly.

He’d stake his own life and the honor of every Ren ancestor on it: the essence being sold at a string of cash per bottle (60 ml) in Chang’an cost no more than twenty Kaiyuan coins to produce! Meanwhile, the entire sum from the second round of financing—twenty thousand strings—still sat untouched in the company’s account.

In fact, Ren Cong was certain that even without a second round of fundraising, he and his partners Zhang Qian and Guo Nu could increase production tenfold with their own capital and still manage just fine. Yet Zhang Qian refused to proceed so recklessly, insisting over and over that the more wildly the Six Spirits Floral Essence sold, the sooner they must launch a third round of financing. Otherwise, the three brothers would eventually lose both their fortune and their enterprise.

Ren Cong had no doubt this was true. On one hand, Zhang Qian had once saved his father’s life and turned him from a good-for-nothing into a role model for his siblings. On the other, his father, Ren Qiong, had told him more than once in private that their elder brother’s origins and abilities were far more profound than they appeared.

“I never stopped you from searching for a worthy mentor all these years. Now that you’ve met a true master, if you can’t place yourself under his tutelage, don’t blame me for being strict with you. Go to the Western Regions and help guard the family’s trade route. When I grow old, the Marquis will see all I’ve done for the household and won’t treat you badly in the end!”

A few days earlier, when Ren Cong had brought his father the first batch of floral essence samples to help distribute, his father had gripped his shoulder with unprecedented seriousness as he spoke.

His father’s eyes shone bright as he said those words. Ren Cong’s own eyes had glistened, too, with the threat of tears. In that moment, he knew it was time to grow up, and he understood, more than ever, what path he should walk from now on.

“What’s wrong, lost in thought?” A familiar voice called from the doorway, scattering his tangled thoughts in an instant.

“Second Brother, you’re back?” Ren Cong leapt up, his eyes slightly crossed from all the bottling work he’d done. “How did it go? Has your father found a lead on buying an official post?”

“Don’t ask. I was just about to talk to Elder Brother. What did he do to offend Bi Gou? That old fox went all out to ruin the deal!” Guo Nu, showing none of the joy of newfound wealth, wiped his brow and sighed.

“What?” Ren Cong’s brow furrowed. “He offended Bi Gou? Impossible—Elder Brother was just at the Bi residence two days ago with Commander Zhang. I heard Bi Gou had personally invited him!”

“Impossible? Bi Gou was promoted to Censor yesterday and immediately submitted a memorial to the emperor, requesting an end to the sale of offices and the cancellation of all unofficial titles. Now, the whole capital’s bureaucracy is cursing him, wishing he’d fall from his carriage and break his neck!”