(I’ll release the first VIP Chapter at 9 PM tonight, um, apprehensively asking for your initial subscriptions, and thanks to the little pink fans and others.)
Having returned ho, Su Ziceng removed her makeup and looked at herself in the mirror, her complexion rosy with excitent, feeling a thrill of entrepreneurship she had never experienced before. Her gaze finally rested on several bottles of wine.
These bottles of wine were brought back from the celebration; each bore an exquisite foreign label. Considering nearly a thousand guests were in attendance, the Su Family had gone to great lengths this ti, offering dozens of different types of drinks at the event.
Beyond the low-alcohol beverages and flavored drinks exclusively for ladies, there were also strong and dium-alcohol beverages specifically for n of various ages and preferences. The four bottles before her were dium-alcohol drinks designed to not get one imdiately drunk while engaging in hearty conversations.
Despite their similar tastes, Su Ziceng slled the bottles and found herself in a dilemma; it was really only the place of origin that differed slightly—they were all Scotch Whiskey. In her previous life, she used to revel in strong liquor, only occasionally encountering such dium-alcohol drinks at social events.
After opening the caps, several fragrances filled the air; in addition to the very similar scents of the four whiskeys, there was the aroma of the blossoming flowers below the balcony, the scent of costics, and that... the sll of booze.
Now cleansed of the perfu scent, Su Ziceng could still sll the remaining alcohol odor from the guest nad "Da Gen."
"How strange," muttered Su Ziceng, sniffing her body again. She caught her reflection in the mirror and suddenly rembered an action Shang Yin had taken during the day.
Today, she had used Chanel No.19, not a very common perfu dostically. She initially intended to mask the lingering scent of last night’s drinks with the fragrance of the perfu.
"Shang Yin ntioned the sll of alcohol," Su Ziceng pressed her nose to her hand, her fingers, which had been stained with alcohol yesterday, still carrying a faint aroma of homade liqueur.
"The afterfragrance lingers for three days, not ceasing," recited Su Ziceng in a literary tone, shuddering, "No way, that beach drunkard with his annoying character, how could he possibly appreciate the subtleties of alcohol."
Like character, like beverage, the thought of that day’s guest made Su Ziceng resolutely refuse to put him on the pedestal of a drinking master, but at this mont, she had no choice; that Uncle Da Gen, whom she had offended, had beco the life-saving straw for her entrepreneurship.
The next day, upon hearing that Su Ziceng was looking for the troublemaking guest, Yan Wuxu truly did not understand. Zhou Dagen, who lived in the slums, was like gum stuck in hair, impossible to get rid of, and yet Su Ziceng unexpectedly showed up at his door with four bottles of wine, claiming she wanted to "apologize."
Su Ziceng originally planned to wait for Zhou Dagen at the food stall, but learning that he would only show up about once a week, she had no choice but to personally seek him out.
Yan Wuxu was sowhat worried about Su Ziceng going alone, so he accompanied her in the search.
The shanty hos were a cluster of huts near the seaside, on the outer edge of the Sixth District, and could be considered the most chaotic area within the Sixth District. Shabby leaky huts were everywhere, swindlers were common, and even the police patrols were reluctant to venture into this area.
"To call it a house is an overstatent; it’s really just four bamboo poles and a roof, hardly fit for human habitation," said Yan Wuxu as he led the way and kicked away trash blocking his path.
Soon, following directions provided by others, they found Zhou Dagen’s dwelling. Zhou Dagen’s shanty was an open shed on three sides with just one mud wall, seemingly more solid than the others. However, beneath the shed were a dozen or so large jars, each about half the height of a person, with dark-colored openings that looked like soy sauce jars. As they approached, a strong scent of rice paste filled the air.
"Ziceng, don’t go in, you’ll dirty your clothes," warned Yan Wuxu as he watched Su Ziceng walk around the shed with interest, opening one of the jars to find it full of fernting alcohol.
Zhou Dagen’s ho could be considered utterly bare, with not a single decent piece of furniture—just those jars beneath the shed.
"The sll is absolutely foul," Yan Wuxu quickly covered his mouth. The newly fernting alcohol had an almost putrid sll, made all the worse by the poor sanitary conditions of the shanty.
"Ah," exclaid Yan Wuxu as he saw Su Ziceng opening a jar, dipping her finger into the unfernted liquid, and tasting it.
Without the expected vile taste, it had an almost beer-like flavor upon entry, "Hobrew?" Su Ziceng noticed sothing, and taking a wooden spoon from the side, she scooped up so of the partially fernted liquid, which was as clear as amber.
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