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“Is that so?” Zhang Bao looked at Wang Bo with a hint of doubt, unsure whether Wang Bo was telling the truth.

“Of course. Would the shopkeeper really distrust me?” Wang Bo replied stubbornly.

Zhang Bao pointed at Wang Bo and chuckled, “You must have been too arrogant and offended Supervisor Zhang, which is why you were kicked out.”

Caught by Zhang Bao’s insight, Wang Bo shyly lowered his head. “Well, um…”

“Ha ha.” Seeing Wang Bo’s embarrassed expression, Zhang Bao couldn’t help but laugh heartily. “Forget it. The shopkeeper already knows of your filial piety, so let’s drop the matter. Just focus on learning how to do business with me.”

“I hope the shopkeeper will give me a chance,” Wang Bo said, raising his hand toward Zhang Bao.

“Why?” Zhang Bao asked curiously.

“I made a bet with Supervisor Zhang Guang, betting whether I could brew fine wine all by myself,” Wang Bo explained.

“You agreed to that?” Zhang Bao hurriedly questioned.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Wang Bo replied, puzzled.

“You don’t know, that Supervisor Zhang Guang is not someone easy to deal with,” Zhang Bao said, seeing Wang Bo confused. “You were fooled by his rough exterior, but he is meticulous beneath it all. His thoughts are even more intricate than mine. When he proposed the bet, he had already made up his mind—he’s certain you will lose.”

“What?” Wang Bo exclaimed, then fell into deep thought. The more he pondered, the more alarmed he became. He considered himself somewhat worldly, so how could a few words from one man make such a difference? If Zhang Guang were truly just a brute, how could he have reached the position of supervisor? Skill in martial arts is one thing, but character is another.

“Should I plead with him to cancel the bet?” Zhang Bao worriedly suggested.

“That’s impossible,” Wang Bo shook his head, showing a flicker of resolve. “Though Zhang Guang is meticulous, I’m not a pushover. I know the brewing process well. There may still be a way out.”

“But—” Zhang Bao began, only to be interrupted.

“Shopkeeper, if you don’t give me some confidence, do you really think I’m so unreliable that I’m bound to lose?” Wang Bo challenged.

Zhang Bao thought it over and said no more. “Since you’ve made up your mind, then handle it your own way. Do your best to make it work.”

Feeling Zhang Bao’s goodwill, Wang Bo nodded gratefully. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you need any help?” Zhang Bao asked, still a bit uneasy.

“No need,” Wang Bo shook his head. “I promised Supervisor Zhang I’d do this alone, so I’ll do it alone. Shopkeeper, I’ll go prepare now.”

“Alright,” Zhang Bao agreed.

After bidding farewell, Wang Bo returned to his small room. He opened the pouch Zhang Guang had given him and looked inside. There wasn’t much—some fine wheat and some chunky pieces. Wang Bo reached in, pulled out one of the chunks, and examined it carefully.

“This must be the yeast,” Wang Bo muttered to himself. Setting the yeast aside, he took out a handful of wheat and inspected it closely. It seemed fine. After all, Zhang Guang is meticulous but wouldn’t stoop to underhanded tricks. Wang Bo trusted his character.

“If you think I can’t do it, then I’ll prove it to you. Let’s see what you say then.” Determined, Wang Bo got to work. First, he needed a wine jar to brew in. As the saying goes, to achieve great things, one must first have the right tools.

“Where to find a wine jar? Ah, yes!” A bright idea struck him. He dashed out and soon returned carrying a jar—the very same jar from the day he and Zhang Bao had drunkenly shared a ten-year aged brew.

Choosing the jar, Wang Bo took his pouch and headed to the kitchen. Peering inside, he found it empty—no one was there, as it was an odd hour when the kitchen was usually deserted. “Perfect,” he thought, relieved, and boldly stepped in. He was cautious, not wanting to be interrupted.

Setting the pouch beside the stove, Wang Bo began gathering firewood, filling a pot with water, and placing a steamer over it. He washed the grains thoroughly. With everything ready, he wiped sweat from his brow, feeling quite pleased.

Carefully spreading the washed grains on the steamer and covering it, Wang Bo lit the fire. The flames grew stronger, casting a red glow on his pale face. Watching the blaze intensify, his spirits lifted.

“This is nothing. I can do this all on my own,” Wang Bo muttered proudly. He began to imagine presenting his self-brewed fine wine to Zhang Guang and seeing his reaction. A smile crept across his face.

Unbeknownst to him, Zhang Guang was nearby, watching Wang Bo’s meticulous work with a smile. Though the boy was a bit arrogant, he was a gem in the rough. After a while, finding it dull, Zhang Guang turned away.

Still lost in his daydream, Wang Bo noticed white steam rising from the steamer and the sweet scent of grain wafting through the gaps. He inhaled deeply, feeling refreshed.

“This should be about right,” Wang Bo nodded inwardly. Carefully removing the steamer lid, a cloud of steam billowed out. As it cleared, the glistening grains made his mouth water. He reminded himself to stay calm—this was for brewing wine.

Stepping outside, he placed the steamer in the courtyard, then hurried back to the kitchen to retrieve the yeast.

Slowly crushing the yeast into fragments, he mimicked the motions he had seen at the workshop, mixing the yeast evenly with the steamed grains. His movements were careful and earnest.

“That should do it.” After many stirs, Wang Bo felt the mixture was thoroughly blended. He returned inside, took out the pouch he had used for the grains, and carefully filled it with the yeast mixture. Sealing it tightly, he tidied up and headed back to his small room.

Pouring the mixture into the prepared wine jar, Wang Bo exhaled deeply. “This is hard work.” Wiping sweat from his brow, he collapsed onto his bed, finally relaxing after concentrating so hard.

After a short rest, feeling refreshed, Wang Bo got up and stared at the wine jar, unsure what to do next. This was to be expected—he had only seen this far at the workshop. Recalling Zhang Guang’s words, he realized there wasn’t much more information.

He regretted not persevering longer, thinking his chances of success would have been greater. But now, it was too late.

“Thinking about it won’t help. Zhang Guang probably thought he was sure to win because of this,” Wang Bo mused bitterly. “If only I could search online now.” He cursed Zhang Guang inwardly but also acknowledged it was his own stubbornness that had led to this.

After a moment’s daze, Wang Bo thought hard about what to do next.

“Right, storage! Of course, it must be kept in a cool cellar. I remember in a previous life’s advertisements, barrels of wine were always stored in cellars.” With that, he smiled happily and set to work.

First, he needed to fetch some water. He immediately thought of the water used to steam the rice.

“That was boiled water, better than raw well water,” he reasoned, and hurried back to the kitchen. Finding it still empty, he breathed a sigh of relief.

At the stove, the pot water remained untouched. Wang Bo quickly fetched a bucket and scooped all the water out.

Just as he was about to leave, an elderly kitchen master walked in. Seeing Wang Bo with the bucket, he asked, “Xiao Bo, what are you doing with that water?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Wang Bo laughed awkwardly, bypassed the man, and carried the bucket back to his room.

Watching him leave, the kitchen master shook his head. “That kid, so secretive. I wonder what he’s up to.”

Inside, Wang Bo slowly poured the water into the wine jar, sealed it tightly, then clapped his hands happily. “Finally, the hard part is done. Now for aging. But where to put it? Where’s a cellar?”

He sat back down on the bed, frustrated.

Suddenly, a bright idea struck him. He smacked the back of his head and chuckled self-deprecatingly: “Why look for a wine cellar? Just put it under the bed.”

With that, he busied himself. After finishing everything, worry crept in. “I wonder what it’ll turn out to be.” He shook his head and thought silently.

Fifteen days passed in the blink of an eye. Those two weeks were torturous for Wang Bo. Fortunately, he didn’t see Zhang Guang during that time; otherwise, his fragile mental state might have caused trouble.

Every day, lying in bed, imagining the fine wine hidden beneath, Wang Bo often wanted to open the jar to check if he had succeeded, but he restrained himself each time.

One day, clutching the jar sealed under the bed for fifteen days, Wang Bo walked nervously toward the workshop. At the door, Zhang Guang was already waiting, his face still wearing a mocking smile.

Tightening his grip on the jar, Wang Bo squared his shoulders and strode toward Zhang Guang.

“Not bad, quite punctual,” Zhang Guang said calmly, hiding his amusement as he saw the anger on Wang Bo’s face.

Wang Bo snorted coldly in response.

Zhang Guang wasn’t offended, smiling as he replied, “You’ve got a big temper, but I wonder about your skills.”

“Open the jar and see for yourself. If I’m going to lose, no need to be so anxious,” Wang Bo said grimly, showing no friendliness.

“You’re young but have an astonishingly big mouth. I wonder where you got such confidence,” Zhang Guang said evenly. “Alright, stop clutching it like a treasure. Open it up and see if you can still be so arrogant afterward.”

“Hmph,” Wang Bo snorted again but obeyed. He carefully set the jar down and nervously lifted the lid.

The moment the lid opened, a whiff of wine aroma entered Wang Bo’s nose.

“It worked!” he thought joyfully, then looked proudly at Zhang Guang. He pushed the jar forward. “This is the fine wine I brewed.”

Zhang Guang took the jar, sniffed it, peered inside, then took a sip from the bottom.

“Pfft!” Zhang Guang immediately spat the wine out with a strange expression. “This is the fine wine you’re talking about?”

Wang Bo was furious to see Zhang Guang spit out the wine and look at him with such a peculiar expression. He felt Zhang Guang was disrespecting his hard work. Snatching the jar back, he hugged it fiercely and shouted, “This is the fine wine I brewed! What’s wrong with it?”

Zhang Guang hadn’t expected such anger. Seeing Wang Bo clutching the jar like a protective mother hen and glaring fiercely, he shook his head quietly.

“I guess that makes me the bad guy now,” Zhang Guang thought to himself.

“If you say it’s fine wine, then taste it yourself,” Zhang Guang said calmly, as if speaking to an equal. It was hard to imagine such a gruff man having such good temper.

Wang Bo gradually calmed down on hearing this. He looked at Zhang Guang with some doubt. Zhang Guang nodded, signaling him to try it.

Raising the jar to his lips, Wang Bo felt something was off—something was missing. Without overthinking, he tilted the jar and drank a mouthful.

It tasted like plain water—no flavor at all.

For a moment, Wang Bo was stunned.

Seeing Wang Bo’s expression, Zhang Guang was not surprised. “Well, what do you say now? Is this still fine wine?”

But Wang Bo seemed not to hear him. He looked despondent, utterly dejected. Zhang Guang felt uneasy inside. “Why can’t this kid admit defeat? He looks so lost.”

He walked over and patted Wang Bo on the shoulder.

“Alright, kid, no need to be so down. Cheer up. Who hasn’t failed before?”

Hearing this, Wang Bo lifted his head. Facing the man who comforted him, he was at a loss for words. He had just blamed and even hated him, yet now this man was consoling him. Wang Bo didn’t know where to put his hands.

“Hahaha, you’re quite something,” Zhang Guang laughed heartily, pointing at Wang Bo. “Now you know, brewing wine seems simple but it’s far from that.”

Wang Bo nodded, suddenly enlightened. It dawned on him that everything Zhang Guang had done was for his own good. Reflecting on his recent actions, Wang Bo lowered his head in shame. Things had gone too smoothly for him, and arrogance had crept in. Zhang Bao had warned him before, but he hadn’t listened.

Now, after this experience, Wang Bo finally understood.