Beneath the huge root network of the Primordial Spirit Willow lay the coolest, quietest safe hall in the entire mountain basin: the underground fermentation vaults.
Carved directly from living gray limestone by the badger masons and heavy with cedar beams, the underground cellar kept an unvarying heat of twelve degrees year-round. Humidity hung thick and calm in the air, padded from the summer heat and winter frosts by twenty feet of solid bedrock and the emerald canopy of the willow above.
Holding a small stone lantern fitted with a glowing yellow spirit crystal, Su Ling’er led the way down the winding stone stairs. Her three snowy-white tails brushed lightly against the dry stonework walls. Her violet eyes shone in the amber light.
Trundling down the steps behind her came Tie Shan, his massive bear shoulders nearly brushing both walls of the stairwell. He carried a clean wooden mallet and two brass-tapped cedar spigots. And floating comfortably upon Tie Shan’s furry left shoulder, cushioned by a folded wool cloth, sat Lin Xiao, his azure jelly body bobbing with eager excitement.
As they reached the flat stone slab floor of the main vault, the glow of the spirit lantern lit up rows of resting vessels.
Along the curved rear wall stood twenty huge barrels crafted from charred mountain cedar. It was bound with thick copper hoops. Lined along the stone benches in the center were sixty wide-bellied heavy clay jars, glazed in dark celadon and sealed at the neck with thick plugs of scarlet beeswax wrapped in oiled lotus silk.
These were the inaugural vintages of the safe hall.
Two months ago. Meanwhile, the first cottages were still being framed and the stream channels dredged, Lin Xiao had gathered four thousand jin of wild mountain plums from the northern ravines. The fruit had been small, tart, and kissed by early mountain frost. Combined with ripe yellow peaches, wild honeycomb harvested from the granite cliffs, pure stalactite spring dew, and thirty-six soothing mountain herbs, the fruit had been mashed, strained. Then he sealed away to undergo the ancient mystery of fermentation.
For sixty days, the resting jars had bathed in the quiet, nourishing leyline pulses streaming from the roots of the Great Spirit Willow.
Lin Xiao hopped down from Tie Shan’s shoulder, landing with a soft, ringing squish on the flat stone slab floor. He slid over to the first fifty-jin heavy clay jar resting on the center stone stand. He extended a fluid slime arm to trace the smooth red beeswax seal.
“Dao Spirit,” Lin Xiao whispered in his mind. “Give me the reading. Is it ready?”
A crisp, musical chime rang within his mind:
“Internal spectroscopic analysis complete. Fermentation smooth speed has reached ninety-nine point eight percent. Complex organic esters have steadied into flawless balance with natural fruit tannins and dissolved mountain honey. Spiritual energy within the liquid has harmonized into gentle, non-combustible jade-dew marrow. Toxicity rating: total zero. Conclusion: The vintage has achieved Grade-2 Masterwork maturation.”
Lin Xiao’s curved white eyes crinkled with boundless joy.
Sixty days in dark stone, Lin Xiao thought. Bathed in willow roots and mountain water. Time to see what wild plums and patience have given us.
Lin Xiao turned to the towering bear smith. “Tie Shan, do the honors. Break the seal on number one.”
Tie Shan grinned, exposing broad, blunt tusks. “Aye, Lord Xiao! Let’s see what we’ve been guarding down here!”
The bear knelt before the heavy clay jar. Positioning a small bronze chisel against the edge of the beeswax plug, Tie Shan gave the wooden mallet a single, measured tap.
CRACK.
The crimson beeswax fractured cleanly along the rim. Tie Shan peeled back the dried lotus silk wrapping, and with a gentle, firm twist of his golden titan fingers, eased the terracotta stopper out of the neck.
SHUUUUUUU.
A faint, musical hiss escaped the jar, like the soft sigh of a sleeping immortal waking from a sixty-year sleep.
From the dark mouth of the vessel rose a shimmering, rainbow-bright ribbon of golden-pink vapor. It hovered in the cool cellar air for a heartbeat. It caught the lantern light like suspended liquid amber, before unfurling into a wave of fragrance that fully overwhelmed the stone vault.
It was an aroma so intoxicatingly beautiful that Su Ling’er involuntarily gasped. She pressed both hands against her mouth.
The bouquet carried the bright, crisp, sun-drenched tartness of high-sky frost plums, balanced by the velvety, nectar-like richness of ripe yellow peaches. Beneath the bright fruit notes rested the deep, warm, caramelized earthiness of wild cliff honey, rounded out by the clean stone freshness of stalactite cave water and the faint, woodsy whisper of charred mountain cedar. There was no harsh, eye-stinging alcohol burn. Only a pure, soothing, soul-warming perfume that cleared the head and made the heart beat with deep peace.
In the plaza eighty feet above their heads, the aroma filtered through the cedar air-flow grates. Students and beastfolk stopped in their tracks, sniffing the evening breeze with expressions of rapturous wonder.
“Mother of earth...” Tie Shan whispered, his huge black nostrils flaring as he inhaled the mist. “Lord Xiao... I’ve drunk grain liquor in the border outposts that would strip paint off a wagon wheel. But this... This doesn’t smell like wine. It smells like spring morning in the old family forest.”
Lin Xiao reached into his void frozen stillness pocket, retrieving three hand-carved cups fashioned from semi-clear white river-jade by Old Man Badger.
Using a long-handled bamboo ladle, Lin Xiao dipped into the dark heavy clay vessel.
When the ladle emerged, the liquid inside made all three of them stare in awe.
The wine was clear as diamond, possessing a glowing pale-topaz hue with a faint, blushing rose tint along the edges. It rippled with thick, thick, sticky tears that clung lazily to the polished bamboo. It glowed with a soft, internal starlight that owed nothing to external fire.
Lin Xiao filled each of the three jade cups to the brim, handing one to Su Ling’er, one to Tie Shan, and holding the third in his fluid pseudo-hand.
“To our first autumn,” Lin Xiao said warmly, raising his cup. “To full granaries, warm beds, and good neighbors who never let each other go hungry.”
Su Ling’er’s eyes softened with deep tenderness. “To Lord Xiao, who gave us a home.”
“To the Safe hall!” Tie Shan bellowed softly, careful not to shake the stone ceiling.
Lin Xiao brought the jade cup to his front mantle. He drew the pale-topaz nectar directly into his semi-clear azure body.
SQUISH.
The first contact was an explosion of clean, crisp fruitiness. The tart brightness of the wild mountain plums hit the palate first, awakening every taste receptor with refreshing clarity, followed right away by the lush, rounded sweetness of late-summer peaches. Then, as the liquid settled into his core, the wild honeycomb emerged—smooth, velvety, and deep—coating his fluid lattice with rich, comforting warmth.
There was zero harshness. The finish was long, clean, and cool. That left behind a delicate lingering sweetness of wild mint and mountain dew.
Even more miraculous was the spiritual effect. As the wine dissolved into his core, a gentle current of jade-dew qi flowed through his non-Newtonian channels. The mild fatigue piled up from repelling the sect invaders and forging the kitchen woks dissolved instantly. His mind felt as clear and expansive as a high mountain lake at sunrise. His internal foundation solidified with easy, ringing ease.
Beside him, Su Ling’er took a delicate sip from her jade cup.
The fox maiden’s knees trembled. Her fine china cheeks flushed a radiant, charming peony pink. Her three snowy-white tails unfurled to their full length, swaying in hypnotic, blissful waves.
“My spiritual sea...” Su Ling’er breathed, her voice trembling with sheer, respectful shock. “The spiritual scars left from my clan’s flight... The leftover dark curses from the poachers’ spirit arrows... They’re dissolving! One sip of this wine cleanses the spirit veins better than a Third-Grade Spirit vein Cleansing Pill! Lord Xiao, if human fighters knew such wine existed, emperors would wage land-wide wars just to possess a single flagon!”
Tie Shan didn’t take a delicate sip. The giant bear threw his head back and drained his entire five-ounce jade cup in a single, huge gulp.
GLUG.
The bear froze. His golden titan arm began to glow with vibrant amber runes. He closed his eyes, let out a deep, chest-rumbling groan of pure ecstasy. Then he wiped his whiskered mouth with the back of his wrist.
“HA!” Tie Shan gasped, tears of pure joy glistening in the corners of his eyes. “Good wine! By the ancestors, what amazing wine! It warms the marrow like a hearth on a snowy night, but cools the head like a mountain spring! Pour me another, Lord Xiao! Pour me another before I die of happiness!”
A system test box unfurled gracefully before Lin Xiao’s eyes:
Lin Xiao laughed, refilling Tie Shan’s cup with a cheerful splash.
“No dying of happiness tonight, Tie Shan,” Lin Xiao chuckled. “We have five hundred thirsty guests waiting up in the plaza. Call the bear apprentices! Haul up ten jars of the plum wine and four casks of the peach brew! Let everyone drink their fill under the stars!”
Tie Shan let out a joyful, booming laugh that rattled the cellar flat stone slabs, hoisted two fifty-jin heavy clay jars onto his shoulders as if they were feather pillows. Then it marched up the spiral stairs toward the festival plaza.