Based on the two little girls' investigation, calculations of the immortal brew entering and leaving storage, and the elders' casual nods, we had already determined the optimal storage period for the immortal brew. So I picked out several dozen tons of the finest liquor. Some had even been bought outright with their production years reserved. Naturally, this left the old madam with a splitting headache.
But no matter how much the old madam suffered inside, she had no choice but to accept it now, because my strength was far beyond what she could handle.
Still, she did put up some resistance. Take the liquor from certain years that had been discontinued, for instance. In the end, she was unwilling to part with it. What was more, several production years had been discontinued, which meant that several fifty-year liquors would have to be deleted from the records.
Of course, I had known from the start that this would leave the old madam feeling as if a bone were stuck in her throat, so I said tactfully, "How about this? For each of these discontinued batches of immortal brew, I'll only take half. As for what you'll use to make up the difference, Island Mistress, I'm afraid that would put you in quite a difficult position, wouldn't it? And I don't want to use immortal brew that's over five hundred years old, either. Of course, when solving a problem, we can't create even more problems. I do have a proposal. First, it will spare Island Mistress a major headache. I'll also waive the rest of the payment. As long as you agree, we can call this matter settled. What do you think?"
"Oh? Immortal, please tell me. If such a good thing really exists, then naturally, as the island master, I'd be