"Hahaha-"
Hearty laughter rang out from the brightly firelit Stilt House. Standing guard outside, Gan Zhenjia pricked up his ears.
"Master Guangfa, greetings."
The dark-faced old man in the seat of honor smiled and cupped his hands to Cheng Xinzhan. The red-robed man and white-clad man beside him also smiled in greeting.
Cheng Xinzhan returned their salute.
"Come, taste our Miao wine."
After the greetings, the old man said nothing else before lifting the lid of the Hanging Kettle suspended above the firepit. The wine inside had already boiled over the flames, bubbling and steaming. A long-handled silver ladle rested inside. The old man picked it up, scooped out a ladleful for Cheng Xinzhan, and held it out.
Cheng Xinzhan was thoroughly familiar with this scene. With practiced ease, he fetched an ox-horn cup from beside the firepit and held it forward in both hands.
The old man poured the wine into his cup, but Cheng Xinzhan did not withdraw his hands.
"Haha-"
The old man laughed again and pointed at Cheng Xinzhan with his free hand, then ladled him another cupful. Still Cheng Xinzhan would not relent. Only when the old man poured a third measure and filled the ox-horn cup did he draw it back in satisfaction.
Once Cheng Xinzhan had drawn back his cup, the red-robed man and white-clad man raised theirs. The old man filled them in turn before pouring his own.
"Welcome, honored guest from afar!"
The three hosts toasted Cheng Xinzhan.
Cheng Xinzhan raised his cup. The four clinked cups, then drained them.
His Twelve-Storied Tower felt as though it were burning, and Cheng Xinzhan's face instantly flushed. But the sting and pain lasted only a moment, heating his body. Warmth then spread through his belly, followed by fragrance filling his mouth and nose.