Chapter 47: A Sea of Faces

Within the palace, Li Shimin and Empress Zhangsun each enjoyed their own portion of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, savoring every bite. Li Shimin had anticipated from the start that there would be a feast and suspected that Cai Cong would never present any as tribute. Therefore, he sent people to keep watch in the kitchen, and as soon as the dish was ready, they packed it up and brought it straight back to the palace. As a bonus, he scolded Cai Cong on behalf of Zhangsun for his lack of filial piety—how could he not think to honor his elders?

When Cai Cong finally changed his clothes and emerged, he found the place in utter disarray. Every guest had vanished. “What happened? Where is everyone?”

“No idea. They all grabbed a pot of Yipinxiang and ran off,” Meng Baolai replied, stiffly turning his neck. He’d seen a fair bit in his time, having worked at Li Ji’s banquets, but never anything like this—where the host toiled so hard, yet the guests bolted before they’d even had a proper meeting.

“You shameless lot! Eating was one thing, but to walk off with the clay pots too! Hahaha… this is killing me.” Cai Cong stood in the hall, laughing wildly. The loss of composure among these luminaries was the best publicity possible; from this day forward, Taibai Pavilion would surely take Changan by storm.

The next day, these dignitaries all sent their stewards with gifts of thanks, also conveying their apologies for the abrupt departure from the previous night’s feast. Cai Cong accepted the gifts with a beaming smile and sent them on their way with a few words.

On the second day, his banquet was for the venerable elders of Changan, those over seventy with sterling reputations. For example, Old Master Tong from Anye Lane, who had long aided the poor without regard for his own losses; and the “Lucky Widow” of Feng’an Lane, whose own life was anything but fortunate. Her husband and son had perished in a famine, yet in her youth she cared for her in-laws into their old age and took in her brother-in-law’s mentally disabled daughter, orphaned by the same disaster, caring for her for thirty years. She was the only one allowed to bring others to the banquet—this was a special exception for her. If anyone objected, could they claim to have done the same?

On the third day, the guests were those famed for their filial piety—truly exemplary children, who sat at the table too nervous to move. When dishes were served, they’d pick up a morsel and place it in their own bowls, but wouldn’t eat, their hearts with their elders—how could they bear to eat before their parents? In the end, they could only take the food home for their parents to taste.

Three days, three grand spectacles—by now, the entire city of Changan was salivating for Taibai Pavilion’s cuisine. On the fourth day, at the break of dawn, a long line stretched outside all four Taibai Pavilions; even a fool knew that to arrive late would mean missing out. Those who arrived to find the line trailing to the alley’s end smacked themselves in frustration.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” announced the waiter, “each table seats ten; there are a hundred tables on the first floor, so a thousand can dine at once. The second floor has thirty tables and is reserved for honored guests, with a minimum spend of twenty taels per table. We are now open; please enter in an orderly fashion.”

The staff had been well trained; how else could they keep such a crowd in line? As the throng streamed inside, the waiters blocked the entrance with a rope as soon as the place was full.

Both floors filled in an instant. The waiters recited the menu with practiced speed, delighting the diners—yet soon complaints arose. Of the many dishes announced, not one was from the legendary tasting banquet, especially not the famed Yipinxiang, rumored to be unrivaled in heaven or earth.

Discontent erupted—there was pounding on tables and loud protests, and the situation nearly spun out of control. Fortunately, the managers of the four restaurants were all seasoned veterans. Zhang Wen, for example, roared with such force that it silenced the room.

He then addressed the crowd: “Dear guests, please forgive us. There were one hundred and eight dishes at the recent tasting banquet. My master has declared these are dishes for an age of prosperity. Now, when our Great Tang is still rebuilding, such a feast cannot yet be presented to the world. The day our empire flourishes and all nations bow to Tang, these dishes will be served. The Turks are not far from our borders; if we have not yet conquered them and avenged Tang’s shame, who could truly enjoy a peerless dish like Yipinxiang?”

Zhang Wen had once been a squad leader in the army, skilled at rousing his comrades, and stirring up these diners was no challenge at all. The crowd was overcome with emotion. Regardless of whether they knew each other, tablemates pledged that one day, they would march on the Turks together and return to Taibai Pavilion to share the legendary Yipinxiang in an age of peace and triumph.

At noon, Li Shimin and his wife arrived to observe the lively scene from the third floor. Zhang Wen delivered his rousing speech each time, for new guests constantly clamored for Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.

Hearing Zhang Wen’s impassioned words, Li Shimin smacked Cai Cong on the back of the head. “Can’t you avoid all this stirring up of emotions? Even I’m getting swept up by it!”

“Heh heh…” Cai Cong rubbed his head, grinning sheepishly. He dared not admit he was selling sentiment—Li Shimin would kill him for it.

“How much can you earn today with such a crowd?” Empress Zhangsun asked casually, though her eyes betrayed her anticipation. The imperial treasury was empty, the palace coffers even poorer; if they didn’t make money soon, she’d have to pawn her jewelry.

“Heh, it should be no less than twenty thousand taels,” Cai Cong replied cheerfully.

Zhangsun’s eyes widened, and she glared at Cai Cong with murderous intent. She had painstakingly saved a few thousand strings of cash, all donated when the Turks invaded—and now this restaurant was pulling in twenty thousand taels a day. What had all her scrimping been for? What was the point of all the self-denial?

“Your Majesty, look—the second floor is filled with sons of officials and the wealthy. The minimum spend is twenty taels, but this lot will spend far more. Sixty or seventy per table is normal. With thirty tables, that’s thousands of taels at once. With guests coming and going all day, twenty thousand is realistic. But that’s just today, with the novelty. Once the excitement fades, business will drop off.”

“So you’re saying the twenty thousand taels is just at the East Market location, and doesn’t include the other three pavilions?” Zhangsun asked, breathing heavily. Even Li Shimin’s eyes gleamed green with envy, and the couple stared daggers at Cai Cong, ready to throttle him if he said otherwise.

“Of course it doesn’t include the others. Your Majesty, when you were in Longyou as a young man, if there had been a restaurant like this, would you have spent dozens of taels? Would it have been worth it?”

“Worth it. Even a hundred taels would be worth it,” Li Shimin answered firmly.

Cai Cong continued, “People are all the same. The young scions today see it the same way, which is why business is booming. But give it a few days, then it will settle down—a few thousand taels a day would be good.”

The imperial couple nodded, gradually regaining their composure. They had been genuinely shocked just now, forgetting that Changan was home to countless nobles and wealthy families; such a windfall was, in truth, not surprising.

“No wonder you dare claim you’ll become the God of Wealth of Great Tang. It’s no small feat to extract money from these people, yet you’ve done it. Impressive!” Li Shimin exclaimed in admiration.

Cai Cong rolled his eyes and replied mischievously, “You’re mistaken—the real God of Wealth is the Empress. My share is only thirty percent. And to me, these people might as well have ‘easy mark’ written on their foreheads—making money from them is hardly a challenge.”

“Nonsense—seventy percent of Taibai Pavilion belongs to the Huang family, which has nothing to do with me. As the mother of the realm, how could I possibly compete with the people for profit?” Zhangsun retorted righteously. If she admitted otherwise, how could she go down in history with a clean reputation?

Cai Cong was speechless—this pair didn’t treat him as an outsider at all, utterly shameless. Suddenly, Li Shimin grew serious. “Your reward has been decided. After discussion with the ministers, I have chosen to name you the Earl of Changan, with a fief of two hundred households. Tomorrow you will attend the morning court—get some rest tonight. I hear you’re quite the lover of sleep!”

“I dare not accept such an honor,” Cai Cong said, dropping to his knees in protest. Li Jing had risked his life for the Li family for decades and only earned the rank of Duke, with four hundred households. What had he done to deserve two hundred? He couldn’t accept such a reward.

“This is the decision of myself and my ministers—you may not refuse. Your mother is a model for all women, and you are a model for all men of ability. As long as you serve Great Tang well, I will not be stingy with rewards,” Li Shimin declared with kingly pride. His ambition was boundless; how else could he endure Wei Zheng’s criticisms for so many years, or command the tribute of all nations?

“Very well! Then I’ll rest early tonight. But could we perhaps negotiate—one hundred households would be fine, and you could just pay me the rest?” Cai Cong was still unwilling. The nail that sticks out gets hammered—Li Shimin’s move was putting him up as a target for all the other nobles. They’d fought countless battles, carved out new lands, defended the emperor, and were only marquises with two hundred households. Now he was to receive the same for a mere restaurant? How could they endure it?

“Enough! I’ve never met someone so ungrateful!” Li Shimin’s beard shook with anger. Ever since he’d bestowed great honors on his companions upon ascending the throne, he’d been reluctant to grant titles anew, and now this boy didn’t know a good thing when he saw it.

“Heh heh… I’ll go check on the kitchen, make sure there’s no trouble.”

“Get back here! Haven’t you heard that a gentleman stays far from the butcher’s stall? Soon to be an earl, and you’re still running off to the kitchen—what sort of dignity is that?” Li Shimin bellowed. Spending time with this boy, he felt he might one day be driven to murder.

“Your Majesty, you’re mistaken. The saying about gentlemen avoiding the butcher’s stall refers to not bearing witness to slaughter…” Cai Cong began to argue, but Li Shimin hoisted him up and gave him a sound spanking.

End of section.