Chapter 128: Tasting the Experimental Wine

Before long, someone hurriedly approached from afar. Though two years had passed since they last met, Changsheng immediately recognized her as Xiao Xing.

After thanking the woman guarding the gate, Xiao Xing stepped outside. The two of them walked into the alley, avoiding the crowd.

Since seeing Changkang, Xiao Xing had kept her lips tightly pressed, afraid to show too much emotion. Once alone, her lips trembled, and with tears in her eyes, she softly called out, "Brother Xiaoshun..."

Changkang felt a pang of sorrow as well. He took a careful look at Xiao Xing. Though born just a few months after him, she was taller, reaching his shoulders. Her face was sharp and oval-shaped, with a pointed chin that made her large eyes stand out. But her complexion was pale, and her frame frail, which pulled at his heartstrings.

"Xiao Xing, are you well?" Changkang asked with concern.

"I... I'm fine," she replied, forcing a smile and blinking away her tears.

"A few days ago, I went back to the village. Your mother gave me these for you." Changsheng pulled out two packages from his bosom, scratching his head awkwardly. "I just bought these. I remember you liked this type of osmanthus cake."

"Thank you, Brother Xiaoshun," Xiao Xing said as she accepted the packages, but the wind seemed to stir tears in her eyes once more.

"Er Dan, Xiao Liu, and I are doing well at the Liu estate. If you ever need anything, come find me. Your mother also entrusted me to look after you. I’ll come see you often."

"Okay," she replied.

After exchanging a few words, Changkang found himself at a loss for what to say. Though they had often played together as children, now that they were grown and it was their first meeting in two years, the ease of their youth was gone.

The alley fell silent.

A breeze stirred leaves from the tall camphor tree beyond the courtyard wall, drifting gently to rest at their feet.

"Wen Xing, why are you here? The lady is looking for you," someone called from the back gate.

Xiao Xing shuddered, lowered her head, and whispered, "Brother Xiaoshun, I’m going," before hurriedly turning and running into the courtyard.

Changkang felt something was off about Xiao Xing but couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Shrugging it off as his imagination, he thanked the gatekeeper once more and returned to the estate.

The distillery finally began official operations.

Master Jiang, following ancestral customs, held a solemn ceremony to honor Heaven, Earth, and the god of wine before shouting, "Let's begin!"

The brewing process was complicated, and Liu Qin knew little about it. She watched as they crushed cleaned barley, steamed it, cooled it, then placed it into earthenware jars in a room—presumably for fermentation. The secret family techniques of Master Jiang remained unseen, perhaps hidden in some subtle step.

Curious, Liu Qin and her group observed briefly before retreating early, unable to bear the heat radiating from the room.

Outside, Liu Qin noticed Jiang Li looked unwell, and even Ning Zhiyuan seemed awkward. Puzzled, she inquired, but Jiang Li said nothing.

It took her a long time to realize the trouble was caused by the bare upper bodies.

The stark reality was that the distillery was sweltering. The workers, unable to endure the heat, had removed their short shirts, working shirtless. It was then Jiang Li pulled Liu Qin out.

Bare arms, after all.

Liu Qin snorted inwardly. She had seen far more in her previous life. She had taken the freedom of exposed arms and legs for granted, even when others undressed before her, she smiled without a trace of embarrassment.

That night, Jiang Li was truly distressed.

How could his sister be so shameless as not to blush? Did she not understand the difference between men and women, or was her skin just too thick? At her age—almost eight—she should have been more aware.

Worrying silently, Jiang Li kept a closer watch on Liu Qin, forbidding her from stepping into the distillery again.

The first batch of grapes at the Liu family estate had ripened.

Liu Qin took two baskets to Qingquan Manor. Because of Jiang Li’s restrictions, she couldn’t discuss matters inside the distillery and had to summon Master Jiang outside. The two crouched beneath a large tree, discussing how to brew grape wine.

"Grape wine?" Master Jiang was astonished. He had never heard of such a thing and never imagined grapes could be used to make wine.

Unsure how to convince him, Liu Qin cited ancient texts.

"Yes, I once read in an old book that the wine is reddish, tangy and sweet, very tasty, especially suited for women."

"Then... is there a method for brewing it?" Master Jiang asked, intrigued by the mention of ancient records. For people like him, illiterate and simple, books and scholars were objects of natural reverence.

Moreover, he never doubted the young master’s words, and felt a surge of excitement.

For an artisan, nothing was more thrilling than creating the finest brew or inventing a new variety.

Liu Qin wracked her brain. In her previous life, many brewed grape wine at home—her mother had even made two large vats. When she left, her mother forced two bottles on her, but Liu Qin thought the wine was low quality and neglected it until it spoiled.

Now she realized her mother had cared deeply. Her pale complexion had always concerned her mother, who had heard that frequent grape wine drinking could bring a rosy glow. So her mother had tirelessly sought advice and tried twice before succeeding.

Alas, when she was young and foolish, Liu Qin had wasted her mother’s devoted efforts.

Sigh—how are you both doing, Mother and Father?

A wave of melancholy swept over her.

Some things, once past, cannot be undone.

The tree wished for stillness, but the wind would not cease; the child wished to care for parents, but they were no longer here.

For Liu Qin, it was the child who wished to care, but the parents were gone.

Master Jiang noticed the young girl’s sudden silence and frowned, sensing displeasure. Unsure if he had said the wrong thing, he dared not speak again.

Liu Qin idly drew circles in the dirt with a twig, immersed in sorrow and memories of her past life. After a long while, she regained her composure.

Returning to the grape wine brewing, she only recalled that sugar should be added, the grapes crushed to release juice, but beyond that, she was uncertain.

She relayed what she knew to Master Jiang and asked him to experiment.

Master Jiang nodded and called his apprentice to bring in the grapes.

Back in the distillery, Master Jiang crouched before the two baskets of grapes for a long time, as if searching for a flower within.

From that day on, he lived and worked in the distillery, determined to master these grapes.

He first tried using the traditional method for white liquor: wash, crush, filter juice, steam, then ferment.

Twenty days later, he opened the jar. The color was indeed red, but the taste was sharp and astringent—undrinkable.

Unwilling to give up, he tried again, recalling the young master’s advice. This time, he washed and added sugar, crushed the grapes, filtered the juice; realizing that unlike grain, which requires steaming to soften for fermentation, fruit juice turns sour if heated, so he omitted steaming.

After ten days, he tasted again. The balance of sour and sweet was better, though the color was lighter and the flavor mild.

A great improvement.

Hope glimmered. Master Jiang pressed on and brewed a small batch anew.

One could not deny that Master Jiang was truly talented in brewing. A month and a half later, he brought news to Liu Qin.

When Liu Qin stood again under the great tree outside the distillery, Master Jiang emerged beaming, cradling a wine jar carefully as if holding a precious treasure.

(To be continued.)