As mid-October arrives, the daylight hours grow noticeably shorter, and the chill of deep autumn settles in the air. When dusk falls early and the world quiets down, the long evenings invite a slower pace of life. In traditional Chinese culture, drinking at night—known as yeyin (夜饮)—has always held a special place. While daytime drinking was historically associated with formal ceremonies and strict etiquette, evening drinking was reserved for relaxation, candour, and true companionship under the warm glow of the lamp.
Leaving the Day Behind
In ancient China, the rhythm of life was governed by the sun. The day was for navigating the bustling markets or attending to official duties, requiring a composure that adhered to social rules. But once night veiled the noise of the world, the study or the inner courtyard became a sanctuary of ease. The wine poured at this hour was no longer a social obligation; it was a quiet companion.
The Tang dynasty poet Bai Juyi captured the peace of such an evening in his poetry:
Cool and cold, the three autumn nights; peaceful and idle, the old man... I pour a cup of wine, and chant a hundred lines.
— Bai Juyi, 'Autumn Night' 1
A single cup of wine and a few softly chanted verses outline a scene of perfect contentment in the crisp autumn air. The beauty of night drinking lies in this exact unhurried freedom. Lighting a lamp in the cool evening and pouring a good spirit is a timeless way to dissolve the fatigue of a long day.
Candles and Conversation
In classical Chinese literature, holding a candle and drinking often appear together. The great poet Li Bai once mused that since life is fleeting like a dream, the ancients had good reason to "hold a candle to wander at night" 2. If time passes like a brief traveller, then illuminating a beautiful evening to share drinks and conversation with loved ones is the best way to honour life.
The table for a night gathering was rarely extravagant. It required only a few simple dishes, a freshly poured spirit, and two or three old friends. Under the dim, warm light of candles or oil lamps, people discussed poetry, travels, or family matters. As the wine flowed and words wove into the night, time seemed to slow down. This intimate, warmly lit atmosphere gave the autumn evening a temperature all its own.
Capturing the Autumn Night
Centuries later, the oil lamps may have been replaced, but the joy of the late-autumn gathering remains a cornerstone of the Chinese dinner table. In Mianzhu, a historic spirits town at the foot of the Longmen Mountains in Sichuan, crisp autumn evenings are met with warm food, good company, and the opening of a fine bottle.
When a bottle of Bainian Qifu · 8 is placed on the table, its deep red porcelain catches the modern light, echoing the warm, inviting glow of an ancient hearth. Crafted from five grains—sorghum, wheat, rice, glutinous rice, and corn—and fermented in yellow-mud pits for about two months, this strong-aroma baijiu is made for unhurried evenings. Enjoyed in moderation, its smooth entry and lingering, nutty, caramel-like finish unfold beautifully as the night deepens and the conversation flows.
The later the hour, the more the character of the spirit reveals itself. No matter how busy the world outside may be, as long as there is warm light and a good cup to share, we can always reclaim the quiet comfort of a long autumn night.
