In an underwater palace, a moment is eternal.

As usual, Yan Shan woke up, walked out of the room, went to the river to wash his face, drank a few sips of sweet spring, and was instantly refreshed.

He went to the kitchen and tasted the mellow aroma of the wine in the pavilion before starting to make wine.

To make sake, you must have koji, and luckily, there is a ready-made piece of rice koji stored here.

He knew in his heart that if he wanted to make that kind of taste, he couldn't do it overnight. Therefore, he had to make enough rice koji first.

A vat of glutinous rice is placed in front of you.

He only selects those that are full and crystal clear, one by one, very attentive, very focused, and solemn.

Time passed through my fingers.

For him, time seemed to have become less important.

Perhaps, in his opinion, only by having no distractions can he really do a good job. But this view itself is an obsession.

Perhaps, he had forgotten everything.

I don't know how long it took, but he had picked out most of the pots of plump and crystal clear glutinous rice. Working as a timekeeper at the Qingyuan Inn, he has made koji and made wine, although it is not a skill, but it will not go wrong.

Grind the dough, form a ball, and dress the old song one by one......

Finally, dozens of koji troupes were made.

By this time, he was physically and mentally exhausted, and he just wanted to get a good night's sleep.

He went into the house, lay down on the bed, very comfortable, and as soon as he lay down he fell asleep, and slept very sweetly.

This sleep seemed to have been a long sleep, and when he woke up, the dozens of music groups had become rice songs, which was really an unexpected surprise.

That's when he started making wine.

Pick rice, wash rice, soak, steam, spread cool, and put the altar under the song......

He worked tirelessly and devotedly, and finally made the first jar of wine.

By this time, he was physically and mentally exhausted, and he just wanted to get a good night's sleep.

He went into the house, lay down on the bed, very comfortable, and as soon as he lay down he fell asleep, and slept very sweetly.

When he woke up, he went back to the kitchen again, looked at the first jar of wine, and couldn't help but be stunned.

Here, I don't know the years and months, there is no day or night, how do we calculate the time? Even if we know the time, is it the same here as outside?

He smiled slightly, opened the wine jar, and there was only a faint aroma of wine, obviously it was not time yet.

So, he started making wine again.

Pick rice, wash rice, soak, steam, spread cool, and put the altar under the song......

He worked tirelessly and attentively, and finally made a second jar of wine.

By this time, he was physically and mentally exhausted, and he just wanted to get a good night's sleep.

He went into the house, lay down on the bed, very comfortable, and as soon as he lay down he fell asleep, and slept very sweetly.

When he woke up, he went back to the kitchen and did not open the jar, but continued to make wine.

......

Before making the fourth jar of wine, he opened the second jar of wine, and the aroma of the wine was still not strong enough.

......

Before making the sixth jar of wine, he opened the third jar of wine, and the aroma of wine came to his nose. He tasted it, and it was not as mellow and fragrant as the wine in the pavilion.

......

After making the seventh jar of wine, he opened the fourth jar of wine, and the aroma of the wine came to his nose. He tasted it, but it was still not as mellow and fragrant as the wine in the pavilion.

......

In this way, the cycle repeatedly, not forgetting the original intention, tirelessly.

Before you know it, the wine jar has piled up.

He seems to have lost track of time, forgotten everything, and devoted himself to winemaking. His gaze is focused, his expression is solemn, and every movement is natural, without a trace, as if it is integrated with the whole kitchen.

Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't, he sank into the mood of selflessness again, and couldn't extricate himself.

Time flies.

Before he knew it, he seemed to have forgotten why he had come from, and in his eyes, winemaking had become the whole of life.

Finally, a smile appeared on his face, very bright, very content, from the heart, like a new life.

At this time, he could truly feel that the Sword Killing Technique had broken through from the seventh layer to the peak of the seventh layer, and it seemed that he had touched that threshold.

It's a pity that his internal strength has not yet recovered, and there is no trace of true qi in the eight veins of the Qi Sutra......

However, this is enough to prove that he is right.

Soon after, on the stone table in the hexagonal pavilion, the pot of wine was refilled, just as Yan Shan saw when he came, mellow and fragrant.

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