Yi Shuyuan first laid out the dishes he had brought, then pulled the stopper from his wine gourd. The Old Instructor had already set out two wine cups, and as the clear, pale-brown wine poured from the gourd, its fragrance filled the air.
Like a drunkard enamored of wine, the Old Instructor leaned close to the little table and sniffed carefully. He seemed never to have smelled anything like this distinctive fragrance before.
By the time both cups were full, the Old Instructor was already lavish with his praise.
"Fine wine, what a fragrance! I haven't even tasted it, and it already feels intoxicating. There's a fervent spirit in its aroma. Shoulder-Picking Wine truly is marvelous!"
"Naturally. But this particular gourd of mine is even more unusual. Please!"
Yi Shuyuan raised his cup, and the Old Instructor eagerly did the same.
"Please!"
Yi Shuyuan drained his cup in one gulp, while the Old Instructor first took a small sip. A fiery sensation immediately stung his mouth, making the wine's strength abundantly clear.
Yet as the strong liquor entered his mouth, it seemed to carry a unique spirit: a thousand voices shouting, ten thousand voices calling, a multitude united as an unbreakable wall amid that fervor...
It seemed no more than a momentary illusion. By the time the Old Instructor came to his senses, he had unknowingly drained his cup.
"Ah..."
A little wine-scented breath escaped his mouth, while his blood seemed to boil with vigor. Even the late-autumn chill no longer felt so pronounced.
"What fine wine! I heard that back then, the people of Lingdong drank this very wine and carried thousand-liao ships across the great river on their shoulders of flesh and blood."
"Many of those ships were well over a thousand liao!"
The Old Instructor took the