Chapter 266: Zhang Jianguo’s Family Distillery
“Alright, I’ll go ask my elders. Let’s go get your wine first — my family’s all in the distillery.”
Zhang Jianguo agreed immediately. It wasn’t for the medicine Ning Xiyue had promised him — he simply wanted to teach her.
The debt of saving his life outweighed anything else. Teaching someone to brew wine was nothing in comparison. For the rest of his life, he’d willingly be her little brother — loyal as a horse or a saddle — ready to serve her whenever she needed.
Whether or not Ning Xiyue acknowledged him, he already regarded her as his lifelong big sister.
“Alright, let’s go then.”
Hearing this, Zhang Jianguo happily trotted ahead to lead the way, not at all worried his family might object.
After all, when they’d learned that he’d survived thanks to Ning Xiyue’s medicine, their gratitude toward her had been endless — like a ceaseless river. They trusted her completely. If they knew she wanted to learn winemaking, they’d probably teach her wholeheartedly, maybe even hand over the family’s secret recipe.
Zhang Jianguo led Ning Xiyue from the front courtyard around to the back.
The backyard was spacious — the combined size of several front yards — and it leaned against a small hill.
At the far right side near the back of the hill stood a small, separate building, about a hundred meters away, practically independent from the main yard.
As soon as they stepped into the backyard, Ning Xiyue caught a faint, sweet aroma of fermenting yeast in the air. By the time they reached the little building, the fragrance of wine had grown much stronger — mingled with a whiff of fermenting rice mash. It was intoxicatingly pleasant, making her all the more curious about those ten catties of glutinous rice wine. She couldn’t help wondering how it would taste.
Ning Xiyue carefully examined the structure before her. From the outside, every door and window of the building was sealed tightly with thick nylon sacks, not a single crack left open. A circle of trees surrounded the house — planted to purify the air and block the smell — and together with the forest on the hill, it kept the scent from spreading. That explained why one could hardly smell any wine from the front yard.
The location was remote, the air purified by trees and terrain — so from afar, only a faint trace of wine drifted by now and then.
“How about it, Sister Yue — does it smell a bit intoxicating?” Zhang Jianguo pointed at the house, grinning. “This is where we brew our wine.”
“It’s not intoxicating — it actually smells really nice.” Ning Xiyue sniffed lightly. “I can smell sorghum liquor.”
“Impressive! We’re brewing sorghum liquor today.”
Zhang Jianguo gave her a thumbs up in amazement.
That batch of sorghum had been brought yesterday by the Party secretary — only just soaked and starting to cook — yet Sister Yue had recognized it by scent alone.
She clearly had a natural gift for this craft. It confirmed to him that she was born to learn winemaking. He had to teach her well — no wasting that talent!
“Sister Yue, let’s go inside. Your wine’s in there.”
“Can I go in right now?” Ning Xiyue asked in surprise, pointing at herself. She hadn’t expected Zhang Jianguo to trust her that much.
From the smell and the white steam rising, she knew brewing was in progress.
Wasn’t he worried she might steal their craft or do something shady? She had a photographic memory — one glance and she could recall every detail. If she wanted to copy their process, it would be effortless.
“It’s fine, you can come in. Don’t worry.” Zhang Jianguo nodded, inviting her again. He trusted her completely.
If you couldn’t trust Sister Yue, then who could you trust?
“Alright.”
Since he insisted, Ning Xiyue didn’t refuse.
Even if she didn’t end up learning, the chance to see a real old-style distillery up close was too good to pass up.
Inside, several people were hard at work — Zhang Jianguo’s father, mother, and grandparents were all busy.
One tended the fire, another steamed sorghum, while a third watched over the process.
The temperature inside was much higher than outside; walking in felt like entering a heated room.
As soon as they came in, Zhang Jianguo shouted,
“Dad! Mom! Grandpa! Grandma! My Sister Yue’s here!”
Everyone looked up from their work. When they saw Ning Xiyue, smiles spread across their faces, and they all greeted her warmly.
Ning Xiyue smiled back and returned their greetings one by one.
Zhang Jianguo’s father, Zhang Datou, was the very image of an honest country man — dark-skinned, broad-shouldered, and smiling sincerely as he steamed the sorghum.
“Doctor Ning,” he called out cheerfully, “I can’t leave this just yet — you take a seat. I’ll have Aunt Wu fetch your wine.”
“Alright, you keep busy.” Ning Xiyue smiled, shaking her head, and turned toward Aunt Wu, who had just stood up. “Sorry to trouble you, Auntie.”
“Not at all. I’ll go right now.”
Aunt Wu and Zhang Jianguo’s grandmother left for the cellar to fetch the wine.
Zhang Jianguo pulled over a small wooden stool and set it in front of her.
“Sister Yue, have a seat. I’ll go talk to my family first, and once we’re set, I’ll call you over.”
“Okay.”
Ning Xiyue sat down, keeping her gaze forward, eyes calm and steady — not glancing around out of curiosity.
Zhang Jianguo first went to his grandfather and whispered something. After about a minute, he walked over to stand beside his father. All the while, the bellows roared without pause — the whoosh and thump of fire-feeding echoing through the room, loud and rhythmic.
All Ning Xiyue could hear was the sound of the bellows; the rest was lost in the noise. She couldn’t read their expressions, but she could feel their gazes flicking toward her, watching quietly. She couldn’t tell what their attitude was — approval or doubt.
Still, Ning Xiyue remained composed and calm. It wasn’t her turn to act yet. No need to rush.
