Chapter Eight: A Pot of "Peach Blossom Brew"

Returning to the “Returning Ruins Cottage,” it was already late at night. The valley remained tranquil, the protective mountain array unharmed. Under the night sky, the starvine emitted a brilliant silver glow, illuminating our home like a celestial realm. Compared to the bustling Greenstone Town, this place seemed like another world entirely.

Jiang Yiyi and Jiang Xiaobai were still caught up in the excitement of their first descent from the mountain, chattering animatedly about the day’s adventures. Meanwhile, I carefully put away the newly purchased alchemical prescriptions, jade scrolls, and refining furnace.

After my two daughters retired to their rooms, I went alone to the towering mutated Kunlun peach tree. Moonlight poured like water over the thick peach leaves, reflecting a gentle luster. On the tree hung eighty-one “Crimson Flame Spirit Peaches,” fully ripe. Beneath their vivid red skins, flames seemed to flicker, the intense fire-element spiritual energy intertwined with life essence, releasing a captivating fragrance.

I reached out and gently stroked the rough bark. This tree bore my memories of my homeland, Kunlun, one of my few remaining ties to that world. Now, it had taken root and flourished in this new realm—a miracle in itself.

“My old friend, it’s time for you to shine,” I murmured softly.

Rather than pluck the fruits immediately, I sat cross-legged and formed hand seals, beginning to circulate the “Wood Element Emperor Technique” once more. This time, not to hasten growth, but to “communicate” and “extract.”

A verdant magic flowed, weaving countless fine threads that tenderly enveloped the entire tree. I could clearly sense the tree’s “mood”—full, joyful, yearning to release. Guided by my power, the essence within the eighty-one Crimson Flame Spirit Peaches slowly and actively gathered at the surface of their skins.

This process lasted the entire night.

Only when dawn’s first light tinged the horizon did I open my eyes. The peaches looked much the same as the day before, but I knew their spiritual power and life essence had been awakened to their peak by my secret method—the perfect moment to harvest for brewing.

I retrieved a large urn carved from ancient warm jade, a treasure I had uncovered in the wine cellar of the Penglai Immortal Hall. It possessed inherent abilities to gather spiritual energy and refine essence.

Then I began harvesting.

My movements were gentle yet swift. Each spirit peach was plucked and immediately crushed midair with a special technique, transforming into a red mist infused with pulp and juice, which I poured into the jade urn. The entire process flowed seamlessly, without any spiritual energy leaking.

All eighty-one peaches were processed, filling the urn halfway with thick, red peach pulp. The rich aroma of wine mingled with fruit scent, nearly tangible.

But this was only the first step.

Next, I added three auxiliary ingredients.

First, nine leaves of “Returning Ruins Dao Tea.” The tea’s Dao resonance tempered the peaches’ overwhelming fire element, making the brew smooth and enduring, while enhancing its depth and aftertaste.

Second, a handful of “Starfruit.” The power of the stars could summon celestial radiance during fermentation, imbuing the wine with ethereal subtlety that aided the drinker in comprehending cosmic laws.

Third—and most crucial—I poured in a gourd of “Rootless Water” taken from the source of the stream before my cave. This water condensed from the spiritual veins of the mountain—pure and pristine—the finest wine-making water in existence.

After adding these, I took a deep breath and placed my hands over the urn’s sealed mouth, slowly channeling my refined, peak-stage spiritual power into it.

“Penglai Immortal Brewing Technique—Triple Return to Origin!”

This was a supreme brewing method from the Penglai Immortal Sect, employing the cultivator’s own spiritual power as the “fire” and the essence of heaven and earth as the “yeast,” completing fermentation, refinement, and return to origin within moments.

A low rumble emanated from the jade urn. Inside, the peach pulp churned violently, spinning into a deep red vortex. Tea leaves, starfruit, and Rootless Water instantly decomposed and merged within.

I closed my eyes slightly, immersing my consciousness within the urn, meticulously controlling every ounce of power, directing the flow of spiritual energy. This process demanded exquisite control; a single misstep could ruin the batch or even cause an explosion.

Time passed second by second.

Gradually, the crimson hue inside the urn grew clearer and more translucent, shifting from deep red to scarlet, then to a dreamy pink reminiscent of evening clouds. The aroma transformed as well, mellowing from intense and overwhelming to elegant and lingering, evoking the sweetest memories.

Three hours later, as I withdrew the last of my power, the wine inside the urn had stilled completely. A batch of pale pink, crystal-clear wine—as delicate as peach blossom dew—was fully brewed.

I unsealed the urn, releasing a fragrance that instantly filled the entire valley.

The scent combined the sweetness of spirit peaches, the grace of Dao tea, the ethereal quality of stars, and the profound mystique of Penglai immortal arts. Even Jiang Yiyi and Jiang Xiaobai, playing by the distant stream, were drawn over by the aroma.

“Father, it smells so good! What delicious thing did you make?” Jiang Yiyi sniffed eagerly.

“Brewed some wine,” I smiled, producing a white jade wine flask. Carefully, I filled it, then took out three small glass cups, pouring each daughter a modest sample.

“You can try it, but only a little sip each.”

The wine poured into the cups, rosy and flowing like liquid rouge—exquisitely beautiful.

Curious, Jiang Yiyi and Jiang Xiaobai lifted their cups, imitating me by first smelling, then tasting a small sip.

“Wow!” Jiang Yiyi’s eyes lit up instantly. “So sweet! Not spicy at all! It warms my belly and feels so nice!”

Jiang Xiaobai was bolder; she downed her small cup in one go, then burped contentedly, cheeks flushed with two rosy patches, her six tails wagging happily behind her.

Watching their reactions, I smiled with satisfaction. I had succeeded.

I named it “Peach Blossom Brew.”

A tribute to the peach tree from my homeland and for the wine’s blossom-like color and dreamy taste.

...

Seven days later, in the market of Greenstone Town.

Still dressed as a “down-and-out Nascent Soul cultivator,” I came alone to the busiest crossroads of the market. I did not enter any shops but, like the other wandering cultivators, found a vacant spot by the roadside. I spread out a green cloth and quietly placed the white jade wine flask filled with Peach Blossom Brew in its center.

Beside it, I set a small wooden sign, simply inscribed with three characters: “Peach Blossom Brew.”

No hawking, no price tag.

This peculiar display soon drew curious glances from passersby.

“Hey, this old guy’s interesting—selling wine in the market? And just one flask?”

“Look at his aura; he seems like a senior expert. Why would he do this for a living?”

“Peach Blossom Brew? Never heard of it. That flask looks like a magical artifact, though.”

Whispers and speculation continued, yet half an hour passed without a single inquiry. The cultivation world was wary; strangers’ goods were met with caution.

I was unhurried, closing my eyes and quietly waiting.

At last, a burly man with a thick beard, carrying a giant axe and radiating intense bloodlust, stopped in front of my stall. Clearly a late Foundation Establishment mercenary with a love of wine, he was drawn by the faint aroma.

“Hey, old man!” he grunted. “How much for this wine?”

I slowly opened my eyes, glanced at him, and replied calmly, “This wine is not for sale, only for trade.”

“Trade?” The man was puzzled. “Trade for what?”

“For something I find worthy.”

He frowned, thinking I was being cryptic. Yet the allure of the wine was irresistible. Hesitating briefly, he pulled out a fist-sized, pitch-black ore from his storage pouch and tossed it onto the cloth. “This is a century-old mysterious iron. That enough to trade for your lousy wine?”

I glanced at the ore and shook my head.

His expression darkened. Then he produced a cold, spirit-emanating herb. “Ice Marrow Grass! How about that?”

Still, I shook my head.

“You old man, wasting my time!” The mercenary exploded with anger, spiritual power surging, ready to attack.

At that moment, I flicked my finger, slightly loosening the flask’s stopper.

A refined yet intoxicating fragrance, alive as if sentient, precisely entered the man’s nostrils.

His anger froze instantly. His eyes widened, Adam’s apple bobbed, saliva almost spilling. His expression shifted from fury to shock, then to unparalleled longing—a breathtaking transformation.

“What... what kind of wine is this?!” His voice changed.

“Peach Blossom Brew,” I said calmly, resealing the flask.

“Trade! I’ll trade!” The mercenary seemed possessed, dumping his entire storage pouch out: ores, spirit herbs, beast materials, even several bloodstained magical weapons.

“Senior! Take whatever you want! Just give me this flask!” he nearly begged.

Scanning the heap with my divine sense, I selected an unremarkable gray stone shaped like a beast bone.

“This is what I want.”

The man beamed. That stone had come from a mission long ago; he’d studied it without success and thought it only hard. To exchange it for such a celestial brew was a godsend.

He respectfully handed me the stone, then snatched the Peach Blossom Brew, eagerly gulping a large mouthful.

“Ah—such fine wine! Such fine wine!”

As the liquid slid down his throat, he sighed with utmost satisfaction. The dark injuries and killing intent accumulated from years of combat were somewhat cleansed by this sip. His entire aura flowed more smoothly.

All who watched were stunned.

For a moment, the entire market fell silent.

Every gaze fixed firmly on the wooden sign before me, “Peach Blossom Brew,” eyes filled with shock and fervor.