Hearing Wang Yu's words, Fang Shaobai's face flushed crimson, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"What fruit wine! This is monkey wine! Monkey wine!"
If someone said his swordplay was lacking, Fang Shaobai would merely laugh it off. But if anyone questioned his taste in wine, he would dig in and argue to the bitter end.
"This is brewed by mountain macaques gathering a hundred fruits—gathered in autumn, fermented in winter, and ready only by spring." Fang Shaobai uncorked the gourd once more. "This is the supreme gem among wines, brimming with the fresh aroma of a hundred fruits, fragrant from hundreds of paces away, getting you drunk with just a sip!"
"I personally ventured into the Southern Mountains a few days ago to seek out this monkey wine. There might not even be much in the entire world!" Fang Shaobai emphasized, thrusting the gourd toward Wang Yu. "If you don't believe me, have a taste!"
Taking the wine gourd, Wang Yu asked in wonder, "Is this truly the monkey wine recorded in ancient texts, brewed by mountain macaques from a hundred fruits, said to overflow with fragrance, clear, jade-green, and exquisite?"
Fang Shaobai nodded vigorously. "Precisely!"
Wang Yu looked down at the wine gourd in his hand, his curiosity genuinely piqued.
Back in modern times, he had once watched a documentary on wine. On a sudden whim inspired by it, he had purchased and sampled practically every domestic liquor available.
From the most common sauce-aroma, strong-aroma, and light-aroma baijiu to Shaoxing yellow wine, Hakka rice wine, seasonal fruit wines, and various herb-infused medicinal liquors, he had tried them all.
The documentary had also mentioned the legendary monkey wine, but he had never tasted it, which had left him with a lingering sense of regret at the time.
Who would have thought that a drink he couldn't taste in his past life would be within reach after crossing over into another world?
"Then I won't stand on ceremony." Wang Yu didn't hold back. Raising the gourd to his lips, he took a sip, smacked his lips to savor the texture and taste, and gently swallowed.
"How is it?" Fang Shaobai asked eagerly.
Then he saw Wang Yu's brow furrow slightly before instantly smoothing over.
"Mmm, quite nice," Wang Yu offered perfunctorily, handing the gourd back. "Crisp, sweet, fragrant, with a lingering aftertaste."
Fang Shaobai raised an eyebrow, visibly dissatisfied. "Those aren't your true thoughts."
Wang Yu raised an eyebrow right back. "Do you want to hear the truth?"
Taking the gourd, Fang Shaobai replied, "Of course I want the truth."
Having traveled together for a stretch of the road, Wang Yu had gained a rough sense of Fang Shaobai's temperament. He spoke candidly: "The truth is, the greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment. Despite monkey wine's grand reputation, it simply fails to live up to the name."
Fang Shaobai's eyes went wide.
Inside the cart, Li Yunxiu and Zi Ling couldn't help holding their breath. The man across from him was the Little Sword Immortal, Fang Shaobai—was Wang Yu really going to give him so little face?
"The fragrance of a hundred fruits is certainly there, but the blend is chaotic, the flavors clash, and it does little to hide the underlying sourness, astringency, and murkiness."
Wang Yu continued his critique, "Furthermore, monkey wine isn't particularly strong, yet it intoxicates with just a sip. That's likely because there are unclean contaminants inside. You should drink less of it going forward—drinking too much isn't good for your health."
"Huh?" Fang Shaobai was completely baffled. It could be explained like that?
"Never mind comparing it to renowned vintages celebrated across the realm—even stacked against rustic village wine, monkey wine merely possesses the sweetness of wild fruits. When it comes to actual mouthfeel, it might not even hold its own," Wang Yu concluded.
Fang Shaobai protested, "Monkey wine is recorded across countless ancient texts and unofficial chronicles! It is exceedingly rare for ordinary folk to find, and universally praised. How can it turn into something overrated and unclean the moment it touches your mouth?"
Wang Yu asked, "Do you genuinely think monkey wine tastes good, or do you only think it tastes good because everyone else says so?"
Fang Shaobai froze at the question, his heart giving an involuntary jolt.
"The craft of brewing has existed since antiquity," Wang Yu said. "Ancient ancestors cleared the land, planted in spring, and harvested in autumn. Once they had secured their necessary rations, they invented brewing to satisfy their appetites.
"Over thousands of years since the ancient era, humanity discovered all manner of grains and fruits. Houses grew ever more refined, clothing ever more splendid, cooking techniques ever more diverse, and brewing methods continually evolved and improved."
Wang Yu possessed the memories of his current life. Though he had recently fallen on hard times, he had enjoyed a decent breadth of experience when his parents were alive. Coupled with the keen eye and broad horizons gained from surfing the internet in his previous life, he was able to observe the world from an entirely different perspective.
"Rice wine is crisp and sweet, yellow wine is mellow and rich, fruit wine is fragrant and lush, and shaojiu is fiery and robust," Wang Yu said, ticking them off on his fingers. "Are you truly convinced that thousands of years of crystallized human wisdom cannot match the haphazard fermentation of mountain macaques?"
Fang Shaobai was struck dumb.
Wang Yu casually pointed toward the roadside. "Let me ask you: do you feel the clothes on your back are more comfortable and presentable, or would covering yourself with leaves from that tree be better?"
Fang Shaobai remained silent.
Wang Yu pressed on, "Do you think wild fruits gathered in the mountains taste better, or the fruit carefully cultivated in a farmer's orchard? Do you think catching a fish from a river and boiling it as-is tastes better, or seasoning it with salt, ginger, and garlic to strip away the fishiness?"
Fang Shaobai still said nothing.
"I grant that mountain macaques may have brewed wine for ages, and it indeed carries the scent of diverse fruits. But if anyone claims monkey wine surpasses the world's finest vintages, I will never believe it," Wang Yu reiterated his conclusion.
"As for the records of monkey wine in ancient texts..."
"What about them?"
"Either literati romanticized nature and let fondness blind their judgment, or the rarity of monkey wine led to hyperbole, or it was simply to satisfy a sense of superiority."
"Superiority?" Fang Shaobai was puzzled.
"I can drink it, but you can't." Wang Yu spread his hands. "The more I praise monkey wine as something unmatched under the heavens and impossible to find on earth, the more it proves that I am superior to you. And what's more, you cannot disprove it. If you question it, it only proves your helpless envy.
"Thus, over time, drinking monkey wine became a symbol of status. Everyone who drank it parroted the same praise. As for whether monkey wine actually tasted good—no one really cared anymore."
Wang Yu was intimately familiar with this entire game. Modern luxury marketing had long been analyzed to death, yet people continued playing it just the same. What they were buying was access to a circle and an identity; the luxury item was merely a badge and a credential, not the true end.
Wang Yu's speech left Fang Shaobai speechless. In the cart, Zi Ling looked on with pure adoration, while Li Yunxiu's eyes shimmered with brilliant light, her gaze toward Wang Yu filled with quiet admiration.
"You've simply been swayed by those ancient books and legends," Wang Yu remarked. "You aren't writing treatises, nor are you selling wine. Why bypass the countless fine wines refined across generations of human heritage just to drink the wild brew of mountain monkeys? Who are you putting on a show for?"
Fang Shaobai's mouth twitched, utterly at a loss for words.
Inside the cart, Li Yunxiu winced slightly. Even though the Taihua Sect was an upright, renowned sect and Fang Shaobai enjoyed a reputation for chivalry, he had just saved their skins—could Wang Yu not be just a little more courteous?
"If you truly love fine wine, you should sample the celebrated vintages of every region, learn their history, understand their proper drinking vessels, and savor their underlying spirit. If you can further connect that with your martial arts and swordplay, only then will you live up to your title as the Sword in Wine," Wang Yu said.
"How so?" Fang Shaobai inquired humbly.
"Take the Hexi Circuit, for instance. Ancient people grew sorghum, and the earliest wines were brewed from sorghum to make sacrifices to heaven and honor ancestors," Wang Yu explained. "Drinking sorghum wine, then, calls for a bronze jue cup, to connect with the ancient ancestors' vast, boundless spirit. When dancing with a sword while drunk, the forms ought to be solemn, rustic, and grand.
"Conversely, when drinking Jiangnan's Nu'erhong or Zhuangyuanhong, one should use fine porcelain cups to evoke the misty, bustling romance of Jiangnan, capturing the spirited vigor and heroic dash of youth."
The more Fang Shaobai listened, the brighter his eyes shone. Seeing Wang Yu trail off, he couldn't help urging, "Go on! Keep going!"
"Go on with what? Are you the Sword in Wine, or am I?" Wang Yu rolled his eyes at Fang Shaobai. "Shouldn't you taste and experience the rest for yourself?"
"Right, right! That is exactly how it should be!" Fang Shaobai nodded repeatedly.
The more he pondered Wang Yu's words, the more marvelous they seemed. While he couldn't grasp the full depth in such a short time, they had subtly stirred his sword heart, setting his internal qi surging within him.
Once he quieted his mind to contemplate and comprehend this, even if his martial arts didn't make a massive leap, he would at least take another step beyond his current peak.
To say these words served as profound guidance for him was no exaggeration.
"Listening to your words is worth ten years of study! Brother, your talent is immense—please accept my bow!"
Without another word, Fang Shaobai moved to bow deeply to Wang Yu right there on the ox cart. Wang Yu hurriedly reached out to steady him, but seeing Fang Shaobai insist on the bow, he instinctively channeled his internal power. Even so, he couldn't stop him.
Fang Shaobai completed his formal bow before straightening up, asking in surprise, "Brother, you know martial arts too?"
Inside the cart, Li Yunxiu and Zi Ling's hearts skipped a beat.
Then came Wang Yu's matter-of-fact reply: "Safety comes first when traveling the jianghu. Without martial arts for self-defense, how would I dare embark on such a long journey with my lovely wife and sister-in-law?"
Fang Shaobai couldn't help but chuckle. Inwardly, he thought that with such shallow internal power, Wang Yu might at best trade a few blows with ordinary highwaymen—and only if there weren't too many of them. If he ran into a true expert, he would be finished in a single clash.
Still, while the man's martial arts were negligible, his insight was vast and profound. In particular, his discourse on wine had scratched Fang Shaobai right where it itched most, earning his deepest admiration.
"If you were to focus your mind on martial arts, brother, your future achievements would be limitless," Fang Shaobai said with genuine feeling, before adding, "Still, even though you know martial arts, try your best not to display them on the road. The Northwest martial arts world has grown rather chaotic lately, and it's best to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings."
Wang Yu asked, "Why has the Northwest martial arts world grown chaotic?"
"Because the former Prince of Zhenxi, Zhao Zheng, passed away, and his heir, Zhao Yu, was enfeoffed and left the capital to assume his post," Fang Shaobai explained. "Word has it that this Zhao Yu is perverse, arrogant, and tyrannical. He offended many people in the capital, and on his journey to take office, quite a few want him dead.
"Those in the capital found it inconvenient to act directly, so they posted bounties. Countless jianghu figures from both the righteous and unorthodox factions have converged on the Northwest. Some want to claim the reward, while others claim to be ridding the people of a scourge—all wanting to eliminate him as quickly as possible."
Wang Yu: "..."
"However, several days ago, Zhao Yu's party abruptly vanished. It's said they concealed their tracks and traveled in disguise. In their scramble to locate their quarry, many hunters have become exceedingly rough, and some have reverted to their base natures, stirring up quite a bit of trouble."
Fang Shaobai continued, "My trip to Puning County is precisely to deal with a flower-plucking thief. I hear he's quite infamous in Jiangnan. Upon arriving in the Northwest, his lust ran wild, and he defiled the granddaughter of Old Master Zhou of Golden Lion Fort. He's still lingering in Puning County right now, openly boasting that he intends to bed the daughters of three other martial arts families."
Wang Yu grimaced. "That arrogant?"
"Indeed," Fang Shaobai nodded. Then, as if only just realizing it, he asked sheepishly, "Pardon my rudeness, brother—I've failed to ask your esteemed name all this time?"
Chapter 10