Chapter Eighty-Two: Ruo'er Can Brew Wine

“It’s plum wine, brewed personally by my eldest sister. I merely offered it as a gesture,” Wei Jin also explained.

Everyone looked at Wei Ruo in surprise, but Wei Ruo remained composed, gazing at the dishes before her.

Her second brother had consulted her before doing this.

Originally, she hadn’t intended to offer this courtesy to Wei Mingting, but the jar of wine had already been opened last time, and if left too long, its flavor would be lost.

That jar was still nearly full; last time, her second brother had drunk only a couple of cups before leaving it aside, and since Wei Ruo herself wasn’t fond of alcohol, she wouldn’t drink it idly; it would simply go to waste.

Her second brother said their father enjoyed wine but was not addicted, and letting him taste it would make good use of it.

Moreover, since her second brother had spoken to her, she couldn’t very well refuse him, so she said nothing more.

“Ruo’er can brew wine?” Wei Mingting’s gaze settled on Wei Ruo.

“I know a little. I just made some casually,” Wei Ruo replied offhandedly.

“Well, then your father will have to savor it properly,” said Wei Mingting.

When joy comes, the spirit rises. With the heavy burden of the Japanese pirates temporarily lifted, Wei Mingting’s desire for wine awakened.

Upon hearing this, Madam Yun hurriedly had someone pour Wei Mingting a cup, and then poured wine for everyone present except the youngest, Wei Yilin.

Toasting is a refined affair, so on such festive occasions, Madam Yun allowed her older children to drink.

Wei Mingting tasted it first, and his face lit up with surprise. “Ruo’er, did you truly brew this wine?”

“Yes,” Wei Ruo responded blandly.

“This wine is excellent—delicate and elegant, fragrant with both wine and fruit,” Wei Mingting appraised.

Hearing such praise, Madam Yun and Wei Yichen also took a sip.

They, too, showed expressions of delight.

“Ruo’er’s wine is superb—far purer and sweeter than what’s sold at the taverns in town,” Wei Yichen remarked.

Its purity and sweetness were likely due to Wei Ruo using distillation, making the wine aromatic, clean, and as clear as water.

In this era, many wines, especially those from small workshops, were made with rougher methods, resulting in relatively cloudy liquor.

Madam Yun couldn’t help but praise, “Ruo’er is so skilled. This is the first time I’ve tasted wine that’s so mellow yet not harsh.”

Listening to everyone praising Wei Ruo, Wei Qingwan glanced at her own cup and tentatively took a sip.

She rarely drank, nor did she often have the opportunity, so her understanding of wine was not as deep as her parents’ and brothers’. Yet she could tell this wine was indeed exceptional; its sweet, refreshing taste was evident, and she felt uneasy.

She looked up at Wei Ruo, keeping a smile on her face, and joined the others in praise. “Sister, you’re truly amazing. Nothing seems difficult for you. Compared to you, I really am useless.”

“How could Wanwan be useless? Wanwan has her own talents,” Madam Yun quickly said.

“That’s right, sister. Brewing isn’t a task for noble ladies—it’s for those sweaty brewers in little workshops, isn’t it?” Wei Yilin interjected.

“Yilin, what are you saying?” Wei Mingting’s expression turned stern.

Wei Yilin was afraid of his father; when Wei Mingting grew serious, he immediately lowered his head and dared not speak.

When Wei Mingting was absent, he sometimes made such subtle jabs at Wei Ruo, and since no one got angry, he’d grown accustomed to it.

“If it was unintentional, let it be. But if you deliberately insult your eldest sister, you need not eat today’s meal—go stand outside in the courtyard!” Wei Mingting said coldly.

Madam Yun hurriedly pleaded for her youngest son, “Yilin surely meant no harm. Husband, please don’t be angry.”

Wei Yilin hung his head low and nodded gently.

Seeing this, Wei Mingting let it go.

Wei Yichen explained to Wei Yilin from the side, “Yilin, brewing isn’t as crude as you think. A good recipe is often a family secret passed down through generations, and even the palace has an imperial brewery with official brewmasters.”

“I understand…” Wei Yilin murmured.

He actually knew what his brother said; he’d just spoken that way so Wanwan wouldn’t feel overshadowed by Wei Qingruo.

Wei Jin merely pretended to take a sip, not actually drinking a drop. Wei Ruo noticed; after last time’s lesson, he would not touch wine again, no matter how mild.

The meal finished, and the jar of wine was nearly emptied, most of it drunk by Wei Mingting, while the others only sipped a little.

For Wei Mingting’s capacity, this fruit wine—even seven or eight jars—couldn’t make him drunk.

He loved wine, but never touched it while on duty. Now, after a great victory and celebrating at home, it was a rare opportunity in years to drink; with a jar of fine wine, he drank with immense pleasure.

As the gathering dispersed, Wei Mingting unexpectedly approached Wei Ruo for more wine. “Ruo’er, next time you brew, let your father have a taste as well, will you?”

Wei Ruo couldn’t refuse, so she replied, “Certainly, Father. Next time I brew, I’ll set aside a portion for you.”

She wasn’t sure when she’d brew again; freshly made wine couldn’t be drunk right away—it needed to be left for a long time. So who knew when Wei Mingting would get to taste her next batch.

As for the jars still stored in her warehouse, since Wei Mingting only mentioned the next brewing and not the existing ones, there was no need to bring them out.

Wei Mingting said, “Very well, then your father will await your wine.”

After the meal, everyone gradually left the dining hall. Wei Ruo had just stepped outside when Wei Qingwan came toward her.

Wei Qingwan initiated conversation and presented a pouch she had embroidered herself.

“Sister, I made this pouch for you. I’m not as capable as you, only skilled at embroidery. I hope you don’t mind.”

Wei Ruo turned to look at Wei Qingwan, but did not reach out to accept it.

Seeing her hesitate, Wei Qingwan explained, “Sister, I remember your advice from the Qiqiao Festival, but I haven’t thought of a good way to express my sincerity yet, so I embroidered this pouch as a token.”

Wei Ruo gazed sharply at Wei Qingwan. Whether out of guilt or something else, Wei Qingwan lowered her head, avoiding eye contact.

“Very well, I’ll accept it,” Wei Ruo suddenly said, reaching out to take the pouch.

Immediately after, Wei Ruo saw Wei Yichen coming out from the dining hall. She handed the pouch to him.

“Ruo’er, what’s this?” Wei Yichen asked in confusion.