The young apprentice Shugu, who has just entered the winery, is fully focused on observing the gradually shrinking brewing yeast in the steamer. These essences, known as "qu hun," are an indispensable part of the brewing process. He diligently stirs the ingredients, his hands turning pale from long exposure to the alcohol fumes. Nevertheless, the small red lacquered gourd hanging at his waist—symbolizing his meager wages—still feels weightless.

Suddenly, Old Du intentionally kicked over a basket of lees, and the strong smell of mold instantly enveloped the sorghum. Old Du patted the shoulder of the sorghum and said earnestly, "Young man, it's not enough to just focus on the evaporated wine yeast. Even if you fill a hundred wine cellars, it would be hard to make a single autumn insect drunk. A true master of the way of wine should be able to taste the 'sweat of the wine beneath the lees.'"

After saying that, Old Du took the sorghum to the underground cellar in the backyard. In the corner covered with mold stains, there was an "old yellow clay wine steamer" with damaged edges, and the steamer's body was filled with fine cracks like spider webs. Old Du picked up the wooden rake, which was covered in wine mud, and unexpectedly inserted the rake handle into a deep brown crack at the bottom of the steamer.

A wonderful scene soon unfolded - amber-colored liquid slowly seeped out from the depths of the crack, climbing up along the natural wood grain like a lively little snake. This liquid eventually condensed into a thick, waxy substance at the winding part of the rake, exuding a rich and fragrant aroma, reminiscent of lava from the depths of the earth.

Old Du used his fingernail to pick up the honey paste on the rake's head and gently applied it to the tip of the sorghum's tongue. In an instant, a volcanic-like scorching sensation exploded in the sorghum's throat, a hidden intensity that penetrated the lungs, far beyond that of ordinary liquor.

At this moment, the wooden rake in Shu Gu's hands suddenly became heavy. He realized that what he was turning over was not just fresh wine mash, but also the rich essence hidden in the cracks of the clay steamer. Meanwhile, a warm amber glow quietly emanated from the bottom of the red-lacquered gourd at his waist, heralding that he had taken a crucial step in the art of winemaking.