Chapter Fifty-Two: Brewing Medicinal Wine

Old Lu teased Chen Liang for a while, then pointed at the bookshelf full of ancient texts.

“Third row, sixth book.”

Chen Liang, sharp as ever, immediately understood and sprang over. Following the old man’s instructions, he found the ancient tome.

Its title was simple: “Imperial Secret Remedies.” Chen Liang carefully laid the book open on the desk, then looked up. “Old Lu!”

He was clearly asking which page to turn to. The old man rolled his eyes. “How could I possibly remember? Find it yourself!”

Damn, acting like some master strategist! Here I thought you were as shrewd as Zhuge Liang.

Still, Chen Liang knew these ancient texts were treasures to Old Lu, so he turned the pages with particular care.

Old Lu nodded approvingly. Indeed, a gentleman neither covets what others cherish, nor destroys it. This child Chen Liang is truly polite!

After all, he was a top student who could get into the police academy. Chen Liang read swiftly, his eyes scanning like a machine, though deciphering the traditional script took some guessing.

Suddenly, Chen Liang’s eyes lit up. He glanced at Old Lu and pointed at a page. “Is this the one?”

Old Lu got up for a look. “That’s right! Copy it down.”

He picked up Old Lu’s Parker pen from the desk, tore a sheet of stationery, and began to write.

Good grief, look at the ingredients for this secret tonic—tiger penis, dodder seed, cinnamon, seahorse, epimedium, and a whole host of potent aphrodisiacs. Any one of these would be too much for the uninitiated, and here they’re all combined—it’s practically lethal!

But the book’s record was meticulous: forty-nine herbs, with precise instructions for preparation and order of adding.

As long as one isn’t a complete fool, following these steps should lead to success.

With his goal achieved, Chen Liang had no reason to linger. True to his heartless reputation, he returned the book, tossed Old Lu a pack of cigarettes, patted the dust off his pants, and was about to leave when Old Lu stopped him.

“Chen, when the tonic is ready, bring me ten pounds!”

Ten pounds? Chen Liang turned around, stunned. “Come on, old man, at your age you want ten pounds? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

There’s such a thing as overdoing it!

“Don’t be ridiculous! For older folks, a little each day is good for health,” Old Lu quickly explained, realizing Chen Liang misunderstood.

So it has health benefits too? All right then! “No problem. Once it’s done, I’ll bring you ten pounds.”

Chen Liang left the library without hurrying to work. The Mobile Unit had flexible hours; as long as you checked in before the end of the day, no one cared how you spent your time.

Riding his beloved Xiaoyu’s bicycle, Chen Liang decided to buy the herbs first. Forty-nine types, and in large quantities!

He went to Tongrentang Pharmacy and bought half the ingredients separately, drawing curious glances from the clerk, who wondered what this seemingly frail young man was up to.

Because he was buying in bulk, it took quite a while for the pharmacy to prepare everything. At checkout, it cost him a whopping 380 yuan—wiping out most of his savings.

Tiger penis was outrageously expensive—over 200 yuan for just one piece! Well, when everyone else buys by the ounce and you buy the whole thing, it’s bound to be pricey.

Making sure no one was watching, Chen Liang stashed the herbs in his “supermarket,” then cycled to the People’s Pharmacy for the rest—this time only spending a little over a hundred.

By the time he finished, it was almost lunchtime. He hurried back to the library to eat with Xiaoyu, left the bicycle behind, and walked back to the Red Star Steel Mill.

Another idle afternoon passed. That’s the best part of the Mobile Unit—no assignments, no one bothers you.

On his way home from work, Chen Liang stopped at the supply cooperative and bought two large vats, each capable of holding three hundred pounds. Can you believe even these required two industrial coupons?

It’s maddening—without these ration coupons, ordinary people can barely get by!

Muttering under his breath, Chen Liang found two porters to help deliver the vats home.

The two industrial coupons he used had been given to him by Xiaoyu’s wife. For the first time, the usually easy-going Chen Liang felt a real urge to make money on his own.

When his mother came home that evening and saw the two large vats, she scolded him roundly, and after dinner even pulled Xiaoyu aside to give her lessons on managing a husband!

But alas, Xiaoyu had long since been won over by Chen Liang and could hardly bear to criticize him. She listened with a polite smile, taking the advice in one ear and letting it out the other.

Meanwhile, through Sha Zhu, Chen Liang arranged for 600 pounds of bulk sorghum liquor from the provisions store. Sha Zhu, thanks to his culinary skills, was always cooking for the leaders these days, and his social network was vast.

The next day, Chen Liang borrowed his father’s bicycle to pick up the liquor. Once home, he set about preparing the herbs.

Although the forty-nine herbs were already processed, the book insisted on further refinement: some needed roasting, others boiling, and some even diced by hand—a complicated process that filled both the Chen and Sha houses with the smell of medicine.

Neighbors came to ask what was going on, but Chen Liang brushed them off with a few casual words, then hauled the vats over to the Deaf Granny’s house.

His own room was too small for two huge vats, but the Deaf Granny lived alone in a place with two rooms: one for living, the other for storage.

She didn’t have much, so the smaller room was perfect for Chen Liang’s tonic.

With the vats in place and the liquor poured, Chen Liang carefully added the herbs in the correct order, sealed the wooden lids with silk cloth, and then covered the vats with clay for an airtight seal.

All that remained was to let time do its work. After eighty-one days, this medicinal wine would be ready to become a “gas station” for men and a blessing for women.

For the sake of men’s last dignity, Chen Liang was giving it his all. If there were no obstacles, he would create some just to overcome them!

This was the ultimate battle for his fortune and future—failure was not an option!