Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God
Chapter 581 - 462: Using Wine to Describe People_1

Chapter 581: Chapter 462: Using Wine to Describe People_1

It’s not surprising that, with the fame of Ghost Grape Wine growing, Gaven had leapt into the ranks of the super-rich, a far cry from these tavern maids who get by on a gold coin or two a day.

A million gold coins, an utterly unimaginable, incalculable fortune, even a small leak between the fingers would be enough for them to bask in luxury for a lifetime.

To trade their young, beautiful bodies for a step on the ladder to heaven is all too common.

Moreover, Gaven’s appearance was outstanding, further complemented by his special ability.

In the past, when dealing with those special women, he hadn’t felt much, but now suddenly returning to the common fold, the devastating impact on these women from the lower echelons of society became fully apparent, embodying every male buff to the max—youthful and wealthy, successful in career, eloquent, brimming with charisma, a natural appeal.

As for Gaven himself, he was nose to the eye, heart to the nose, completely focused on another man’s hands across the room, not because he had any special predilection, but because he was captivated by the other’s exquisite bartending craftsmanship.

Krewen didn’t immediately start mixing after he got the Ghost Grape Wine; instead, he centered himself, closed his eyes, and sank into contemplation.

This was not for show, but rather to attune himself to the Ghost Grape Wine, to perceive its attributes, and Krewen’s increasingly chilly aura proved this.

When his aura merged with the Ghost Grape Wine, he looked eerie, shrouded in a swirling mist, faint yet discernible, and at that moment, he sprang into action, his bartending equipment coming to life in his hands as if automatically.

His mixology gear was peculiar, mainly a huge cocktail shaker with variously sized glass cups.

Without using any tools, the cork of the Ghost Grape Wine popped off by itself with a bang, as he forced it out with his own strength, pouring the entire bottle into the shaker.

As the cocktail shaker began to sway, various auxiliary types of liquor and ingredients were successively added.

He didn’t use a jigger, each pour exact, not a drop more or less, even for freshly squeezed juice.

The process lasted just over three minutes, smooth and pleasing to the eye, and even Gaven, who had never taken an interest in such things, watched intently, afraid to miss a single detail. Anything carried to an extreme becomes an art form, and the old gentleman’s mixology was no exception.

As for the taste, setting that aside for the moment, just this set of movements was enough to rank him among the top three in the City of Brilliance, no exaggeration necessary.

From one shaker, he produced fourteen different drinks, each unique.

Not only were different cups used, but the colors of the liquids also varied, ranging from crystal clear to murky like soup.

The two cups pushed in front of Gaven and Luna represented two extremes.

The one before him appeared clear at first glance, then cloudy, and upon closer inspection, seemingly bottomless. Was this an innuendo about his character?

The one before Luna seemed unclear at first but was ultimately pristine and white. The Half-Moon Colt did not drink it but turned to look at him, her inquiry obvious.

In this unfamiliar place, was it appropriate to drink a concoction with who knew what added to it?

Gaven didn’t answer her directly but lifted his drink and took a sip.

Seeing Gaven’s reaction, Luna hesitated no longer, picked up the Ghost Grape Wine before her, and began to sip little by little, as they had done. She had tasted Ghost Grape Wine before, but as a Half-Moon Colt transformed into a human, she had not had the chance to try it.

Knowing Gaven, if he dared to do this, it was either because he had a deep understanding of the people around him and trusted their character, or he had made other preparations, with another powerful presence lurking behind them to ensure their safety, like the Dog Demon that often skulked in the shadows.

Luna believed the latter more likely, but soon the Half-Moon Colt could care no more, completely enraptured by the unique taste and sensation of the wine before her.

Gaven, too, was savoring the distinctive post-mixing flavor of the Ghost Grape Wine, a coolness inherent to the wine hitting him first sip.

During the mixing process, Krewen had not used any ice or even cool ingredients, instead adding more neutral, warming substances, which completely neutralized the bone-chilling coldness of the Ghost Grape Wine without weakening its heat-relieving effects.

The first taste was bitter, then sweet on further tasting, with a hint of bitterness in the aftertaste, ending up as a mouthful, an abundance, a belly full of sweetness—much like his own life, turning and twisting through trials, eventually accumulating overwhelming sweetness.

A metaphor in wine.

The old gentleman was definitely using the wine as a metaphor for life, stirring reflections on one’s life journey.

The quality of the wine didn’t matter anymore; people were already intoxicated in their own musings.

Looking at the reactions of the female mages and waitresses beside him made it clear.

Some held their glasses, giggling foolishly.

Others had faces full of worry.

Some wept softly.

And others couldn’t help but cry out loud.

No two reactions were alike.

Gaven belonged to those who reacted the least, with only a few fluctuating expressions before quickly regaining his composure, showing formidable self-control.