Liquid History in Bronze Vessels

When Du Fu penned “Let us quickly drink a measure together, just three hundred bronze coins it costs,” he did more than compose poetry – he left behind an economic receipt from the Tang dynasty. The great poets of China’s golden ages unwittingly became chroniclers of market prices through their verses about wine, offering modern historians an unexpected window into the material culture of their times.

The measurement standards provide our first clue. A “dou” of wine during the Tang (618-907 CE) and Song (960-1279 CE) dynasties equaled approximately six liters. Given alcohol’s lower density, this six-liter measure weighed roughly five kilograms (about ten “jin” in traditional Chinese measurement), compared to water’s six liters weighing six kilograms. These precise measurements allow us to calculate per-unit costs with surprising accuracy across centuries.

The Poet-Economists of Medieval China

Three literary giants from different eras provide our most vivid price records:

Du Fu (712-770), the “Sage of Poetry” from the Tang dynasty’s twilight years, recorded wine at 300 copper coins per dou – translating to 30 coins per jin. His contemporary Li Bai (701-762), the legendary “Immortal Poet,” mentioned extravagant prices of 10,000 coins per dou in “Clear wine in golden cups costs ten thousand per measure,” though scholars debate whether this reflects actual luxury wine prices or poetic hyperbole.

Centuries later, Song dynasty reformer Wang Anshi (1021-1086) noted prices had dropped dramatically to just 100 coins per dou – merely 10 coins per jin. This deflationary trend becomes particularly fascinating when examined against broader economic patterns of the Northern Song period.

Imperial Vintages and Black Market Dangers

The Song dynasty developed a sophisticated alcohol economy with distinct classifications. Government-run breweries produced “small wine” (spring-brewed, autumn-sold) in 26 grades ranging from 5 to 30 coins per jin, and “premium wine” (winter-brewed, summer-sold) in 23 grades from 8 to 48 coins per jin, as recorded in the Song Shi historical annals.

Luxury wines existed in a different economic stratum entirely. The imperial court produced exclusive vintages like “Rose Dew” and “Floating Fragrance” for royal consumption only. The Wu Lin Jiu Shi records severe penalties – including exile to frontier garrisons – for eunuchs caught selling these forbidden beverages. This created an environment where certain wines became literally priceless, their value exceeding even Li Bai’s poetic exaggerations.

Urban markets offered premium alternatives. During Emperor Huizong’s reign (1100-1125), Kaifeng’s Quyuan Street distilleries sold silver-bottled wine at 72 coins per jin and lamb-formula wine at 81 coins – roughly double the state brewery’s highest grade. Yet even these prices remained accessible when contextualized against grain costs: with rice at 30 coins per dou (about 4.5 kilograms), a jin of premium wine cost approximately three dou of rice – equivalent to about 20 jin of grain or under 100 yuan in modern purchasing power.

The Mathematics of Medieval Merrymaking

Beyond pricing data, poetic references illuminate the social rituals surrounding wine consumption. Ouyang Xiu’s (1007-1072) famous description of “goblets and tally sticks mingling in confusion” in the Drunken Old Pavilion reveals an entire ecosystem of drinking games and social protocols.

The “tally sticks” (chou) mentioned served multiple functions – as counters in drinking competitions, but more importantly as instruments for elaborate drinking games. These engraved sticks might command “Those afraid of their wives drink” or “The short-statured drink one cup,” creating an interactive, randomized drinking experience that democratized merriment across social strata.

The Physics and Philosophy of Feasting

Two sophisticated drinking games exemplified the intellectual and physical dimensions of Song dynasty conviviality:

The ancient game of “pitch-pot” (touhu) required players to throw arrows into narrow-necked vessels, with complex scoring systems rewarding precision. Masters could perform feats like simultaneously landing arrows in both side handles and the main mouth – a display that would compel all present to drink in admiration.

Ouyang Xiu’s innovative “Nine Shots” game combined chance with skill. Players drew animal-named sticks from a tube, then threw darts at corresponding targets on a circular board. Missing meant drinking; hitting the central bear target meant all others drank – a game blending zoology, geometry, and alcohol consumption in characteristically Song fashion.

The Silent Language of Fingers

While modern Chinese drinking culture favors boisterous “guess-fingers” games, the Song dynasty developed more refined alternatives. The “Five Elements Fist” (wuxingquan) used extended fingers to represent metal (thumb), wood (index), water (middle), fire (ring), and earth (little finger), with the traditional elemental cycle determining winners silently – an elegant solution honoring Confucian dining etiquette while allowing competitive drinking.

This contrasts sharply with Japan’s “Insect Fist” (mushiken) where frog (thumb) beats slug (little finger), slug beats snake (index), and snake beats frog – a system sharing conceptual roots but differing in execution. Both games have faded in modern times, the Five Elements Fist particularly undone by contemporary finger gestures’ unintended meanings.

The Enduring Legacy of Liquid Culture

These poetic price records and drinking rituals reveal more than historical trivia – they demonstrate how deeply alcohol was woven into China’s social, economic and cultural fabric. From Du Fu’s struggling middle-class drinker to Li Bai’s luxurious imaginings, from government price controls to forbidden imperial vintages, the story of wine mirrors broader historical currents.

Modern readers might marvel at Song dynasty premium wines costing less than 100 yuan in today’s terms – until considering contemporary equivalents like Maotai’s four-figure price tags. More importantly, these records preserve the textures of daily life: the clatter of tally sticks, the thunk of arrows in bronze pots, the silent calculus of finger games – all reminding us that history’s true flavor often emerges not in grand events, but in how people ate, drank, and found joy across the centuries.