Chapter 121 — Strong Liquor

Ming Li smiled wryly. He had never cared much for drink, and now he was in no mood for it. But the Miao were all watching him, and on reflection he did not want to slight their kindness. He nodded and smiled at the warrior, put the bag to his lips, and forced down a mouthful.

The moment it touched his tongue his brows knit. The wine the Miao brewed was fiercely strong, its flavor carrying the very character of the southern borderlands—a numbing, peppery heat that surged down his throat. Caught off guard, he found it quite hard to bear.

His expression was not lost on the Miao. A dozen of them burst out laughing. Plainly they had seen before how men of the Central Plains could not stomach the strong wine the Miao brewed, and there was no little pride in their laughter.

Ming Li was annoyed, but then he reflected that these people meant no harm, and that he was here to ask a favor—how could he lose his temper? He could only smile wryly. He was just about to hand the bag back, and the Miao warrior, still chuckling, reached out to take it.

Suddenly a fair hand reached over from beside him and took the great bag of wine from Ming Li's grasp. Everyone, Ming Li included, was taken aback. The one who had taken the bag was none other than Xiaobai, standing prettily at his side.

She raised the bag to her nose and drew a deep breath. The smell of the wine rose to meet her, fierce and strong, yet she showed not the slightest discomfort—rather, she seemed delighted. Then she lifted both hands, put the bag to her lips, and to everyone's astonishment began to drink deep.

The crowd was aghast, and Ming Li was startled as well!

Xiaobai took a long draught before she set the wineskin down. Satisfaction gradually spread across her face, and after a moment she gave a soft sigh.

"Good wine!"

"Wah..."

That outburst of cries came from the group of Miao warriors. The strong liquor of the southern frontier Miao had always been fierce by nature, and in these parts there had long been a saying that the strongest man was the one who could hold the most liquor. Among the Miao, women as a rule did not touch this harsh spirit, which was a man's drink.

Yet today this delicate-looking woman before them had, to everyone's surprise, downed the fierce liquor in great gulps, and judging by her reaction afterward, it was exactly the peculiar expression of a seasoned drunkard. The Miao men were all fond of drink, and at once they were stirred, calling out their approval on every side.

At this moment a faint flush seemed to have settled over Xiaobai's fair face, perhaps from the liquor going down her throat, but her spirits appeared suddenly roused. Her right hand gripped the wineskin, her left hand opened, and with slender white fingers she gave a light snap toward the Miao warriors, producing a tiny "pop."

Another stir ran through the Miao warriors, every face alight with astonishment and amusement. This gesture was unmistakably the very one Miao men of the southern frontier used among themselves when toasting and matching drinks, the customary challenge to another to drink. That a woman of Central Plains appearance should perform it so flawlessly left them staring at one another.

But the real astonishment, the thing that made their eyes go wide, was still to come.

Xiaobai gave a little laugh, her gaze now truly soft as water. She tossed her head, her hair streaming, put the wineskin to her lips, and began to drink in great gulps, glug after glug.

The Miao were greatly alarmed. Ming Li, not understanding what was happening, merely cursed Xiaobai inwardly for pulling such a stunt at a time like this; but in the eyes of the Miao, this woman was now all but the most extraordinary woman in the world.

Miao liquor was exceedingly strong. A wineskin this large was more than any man among the entire Miao people could drain in one go; most would be thoroughly drunk by the time they reached three-quarters. Yet now they watched this woman's throat work without pause as she drank on and on in great swallows, and one by one the Miao men were visibly moved.

And to top it all, Xiaobai had just made that most classic of gestures!

The Miao character was forthright, after all, and when so many men were faced with a challenge from a woman who looked so frail, how could any of them flinch? No one knew who gave the first shout, but a man flung his long-handled spear to the ground, untied the wineskin at his waist, and threw back his head to drink.

By Miao custom, nearly every man carried a wineskin. Once the first had begun, it was as if a pot had boiled over: the Miao threw down their spears and drank, a truly magnificent sight.

Only the Miao squad leader suddenly came to his senses. He reached for the wine at his waist, but his hand closed on nothing, and only then did he realize his wineskin was already in Xiaobai's hands. Watching his fellow men all around him drinking, the Miao leader went red in the face with urgency, in grave danger of being disgraced for all time if he did not drink now.

His eyes darted about, and in his desperation he hit on an idea. The Miao leader shot over to a Miao soldier standing near the riverbank, abruptly snatched the wineskin from his hand, and put it to his lips to drink in great gulps.

The soldier flew into a rage. A man may be killed, but liquor absolutely must not go undrunk; with a great shout he lunged to seize it back. But the Miao leader had been on his guard, and with a sudden kick he sent the man flying into the river with a splash that raised a huge spray of water, giving Xiao Hui, who was playing on the bank, a great fright.

The soldier was utterly aggrieved, and with his honor at stake, how could he let the matter rest? He scrambled and crawled up onto the bank, saw there was no hope of wrestling it back from the Miao squad leader, and stamped his foot in fury. Then he strode off at a run, charged into a nearby house, and moments later, amid cries of alarm, burst out again with a large wineskin of fierce liquor, planted himself with a flourish beside his Miao comrades, and began to drink in great gulps.

Ming Li was dumbstruck, and for the moment quite forgot the altar on the mountainside. There was a great crowd of Miao men on one side and, on the other, a single delicate woman, and both sides were drinking for dear life as if possessed. The spectacle was magnificent, and utterly absurd; it made a man break out in a sweat.

By now the scene had grown too spectacular to ignore, and it drew the surrounding Miao at once. Word spread in an instant, shrill Miao voices rising and falling on every side, and a great crowd came swarming over, at least three times the number of the onlookers from before.

Vendors abandoned their stalls, hunters dropped their quarry, and everyone in the houses came running out, ringing the place so tightly there was no gap at all, layer upon layer, a veritable sea of people.

Cries and shrieks came from the crowd now and again, no doubt mostly the excited shouts and cheers of the onlookers.

In the center of the clearing, the drinking contest had reached its critical moment. Miao liquor was no ordinary brew; even the Miao warriors who drank regularly were now, one by one, beginning to fall.

Each time a man went down, a great "Hua!" went up from the crowd, a burst of uproar, though excitement was written all the more plainly on every face.

After a while longer, more and more of the Miao men showed signs of agony, faces flushed, unable to stand steady, swaying where they stood. They struggled to hold themselves up, but with the world spinning around them they could only collapse in a heap.

Thud, thud, thud!

The Miao warriors, being much of a muchness in capacity, went down in a great wave. On the Miao side only three men remained standing, barely holding on, and among them was the Miao squad leader.