Chapter 89: When an Expert Makes a Move_2

"This isn’t just any home-brewed alcohol." Su Ziceng noticed something different, as the taste of the liquor in her mouth grew richer and richer; even though it was only a semi-finished product, it already had such a flavor. "You’ve got quite the eye." Zhou Dagen had just returned from outside and, seeing the two standing among his precious jars of liquor, hurriedly squeezed in. "Uncle Zhou, I came today especially to apologize," Su Ziceng said coyly as she took out the four bottles of liquor. She had thought that Zhou Dagen would be a bit surprised, but he only spat after a glance, "You say you’re not here to make fun of me, trying to fool me with some foreign trinkets from the Russians, expensive and not strong enough. I don’t drink that stuff." Clearly, these few bottles didn’t catch Zhou Dagen’s eye, but luckily, Su Ziceng had other preparations; she immediately picked out a bottle of Grey Goose vodka and regained some of Zhou Dagen’s attention. "Now that’s more like it." Zhou Dagen didn’t stand on ceremony, took the bottle, took a deep sip, and his face showed utter bliss. Su Ziceng saw him open the bottle, without choosing a seat, just sit down on the ground, and begin sipping the liquor. She also gave Yan Wuxu a knowing look. Although somewhat reluctant, Yan Wuxu still took out the food that Mrs. Yan had prepared as snacks to accompany the drinks, the usual three kinds. "Grilled shrimp, cold seaweed salad, spicy peanuts—perfect, just perfect." Zhou Dagen became more and more cheerful; the incident of Su Ziceng "throwing the kettle" the other day had long been forgotten. After he had his fill of food and drink, he let out a belch and said, "One’s mouth is soft when eating others’ food. You two young ladies, don’t try to fool this old man. Tell me, what business do you have? As you’ve seen, my place is like a pigsty; the most valuable things are just a few jars. There’s nothing else worth your scheming over." "Mr. Zhou, I see that your home-brewed liquors are decent, but compared to what you drank the other night, the taste is quite different." Su Ziceng saw his face flushed with alcohol and speaking in a loose manner; she took advantage of his drunkenness to bring up the matter. "That stuff? Not up to par, all of it not yet up to scratch, just playthings without even the basics solidified—how can it be called liquor?" Zhou Dagen also played Tai Chi with his words; his liquors were just semi-finished products, still needing countless distillations and storage, then aging in cellars. Su Ziceng initially stood awkwardly; asking questions was somewhat inconvenient, so she simply sat down on the ground, following his example, to Yan Wuxu’s frown. "If Mr. Zhou is unwilling to share the secrets of his liquors, could you at least tell me the differences between these four kinds of drinks?" "Coming from different places and made with different kinds of barley makes all the difference." After Zhou Dagen said this, Su Ziceng and Yan Wuxu were both somewhat perplexed. "These varieties are all medium-bodied Scotch whiskies from old distilleries; I just can’t see much difference." Su Ziceng was somewhat disbelieving, then turned and asked Yan Wuxu, who also leaned in to smell them and agreed with her opinion. "Tsk tsk, you young ladies only know about stuff like perfume and lipstick; how could you know about whisky making? The climates differ, craftsmanship differs, and on top of that, the barley differs, and the germination rates differ—just a tiny bit of difference, and it all changes." Zhou Dagen shook those few bottles and said, "I don’t drink these few bottles, not because I look down on the liquor, but because I’m not used to drinking medium-bodied liquor. It lacks the crispness of beer and the spiciness of high-proof alcohol, although it’s all good liquor." Seeing Zhou Dagen speak sensibly, without a preachy tone, Su Ziceng became more serious. She imitated him by shaking the bottle towards the Sunshine. The four bottles of liquor, each with its own unique bottle design,were cylindrical, square, and inverted triangular cone-shaped. Under the sunlight, the colors reflected differently. "The first type is Quinchi Wine, from the Scotch Lowlands, which tastes elegant and light, with moderate alcohol content, carrying a sweet orange fragrance. The second type is called Jeff Wine, similar in color to German dark beer, with a richer taste, and produced in the Scotch Highlands. The third type is Peise Wine, with a hint of wet sea salt, turmeric in color, and produced along the coastline of the British Island. The last type, the darkest caramel color, has a slightly bitter entry, is produced in the Valley area, and is called "Caramel Macchiato." Zhou Dagen rummaged through the jars to find an empty one and took out several clean glasses. Liquor was poured into each glass. Su Ziceng and Yan Wuxu tasted them in turn, and with Zhou Dagen’s explanation, it was as if they had been given a tour guide inside a scenic area, and everything suddenly became clear. "Uncle Zhou...I never knew you were so impressive." Yan Wuxu looked at the unassuming Zhou Dagen with both shock and amazement. Whiskeys from the Highlands, Lowlands, the Valley, and the Seaside did indeed have subtle taste differences. Su Ziceng closed her eyes, imagining a map of mountain and river terrains, the four kinds of whiskey like four raging rivers, not blending with each other but surging throughout her body. "Try my liquor again." Zhou Dagen was eager to show off; searching around the wine jars, he picked out one that was already about nine-tenths ready. This time, even Yan Wuxu was interested, not minding the odd brew in the jar, and took a sip. Su Ziceng tasted the liquor Zhou Dagen brewed, feeling it was completely different from the four kinds. It seemed to carry a smoky ham scent, the liquor traveling from the tip of the tongue to the root; not until it reached the throat did it become sweet like malt sugar." "Great liquor!" Su Ziceng and Yan Wuxu exclaimed, almost in unison, eyes lighting up. Zhou Dagen heard this, his lips nearly splitting to his ears, nodding continuously. "It’s a good drink, but it’s a pity..." Su Ziceng praised and then changed the topic, sighing.