The Season When Grapes Ripen (1)
I would have loved to offer them a wide variety of spirits, but unfortunately, my hands were tied. After all, the only liquor I had brewed so far was Meari.
“Don’t you have that new batch of Meari you made recently?”
“Officially, I mean. Officially.”
“Hmph. Fair enough.”
There was no grand mystery behind why Songha trailed after me like this, brimming with anticipation. What else could make a liquor-loving dokkaebi act this way? It was all for the sake of alcohol.
“Snacks coming through!”
“Yes! Over at that table!”
Calling back, I set down ceramic cups alongside bottles of Meari. Perhaps because it was an unfamiliar sight around these parts, the village elders—who until moments ago had been busy chatting away—all turned to look in our direction.
“Yeonwoo really grew up well.”
“If only my daughter were a bit younger, I would’ve set them up in a heartbeat.”
“Have you gone senile, old woman? Your daughter is already past forty!”
“That’s why I said if she were younger!”
Their bickering lasted only a fleeting second, however, once the Meari was placed before them.
“What’s this? Soju?”
“It’s a yakju we crafted here at our brewery.”
“Oho, a yakju, is it? Just look at this cup, how classy.”
“Look at that color! Goodness, it almost feels like a crime to drink it.”
The elders stared mesmerized, captivated by the color of the Meari poured into their cups. Some took in the rising aroma, exhaling deeply with expressions of pure satisfaction.
“How does alcohol smell like this?”
“Doesn’t smell anything like that cheap green soju you guzzle every day, does it?”
“Watch your tongue, you old goat! People will think I’m an alcoholic!”
“Aren’t you? Gwahaha! Hey, Han! Am I right? Don't you think so too? Come on over and tell him!”
One grandfather turned his head and shouted toward someone sitting a little ways off.
The answer came back with an easy chuckle.
“Haha. Shall I, then?”
A dignified elderly gentleman seated on that side promptly rose to his feet.
Songhadang. I've heard the name quite often.
Sitting in a space styled more like a modern café than a rustic bar, the old man fell into deep thought. He had always possessed a keen interest in spirits—not just traditional Korean liquors like yakju, takju, and soju, but Western spirits like whisky, gin, and rum, as well as fermented beverages like beer and wine. Naturally, he was well aware of Songhadang's Meari, which had recently begun causing a sensational stir.
Though these folks probably have no idea.
Looking around, everyone present was a lifelong local from this secluded mountain village in Yeongwol. None of them likely realized the wild frenzy the liquor they were drinking was generating out in the world. There was only one reason they had come here today.
“Our Yeonwoo,” they called him. The warmth of rural community, I suppose.
The young owner was the very boy who used to follow his grandfather around the village years ago. On top of that, the village head had told everyone that scoundrels were harassing the young brewery master. That was all it took. That was why they had gathered here to drink alcohol they knew nothing about.
Good people, all of them.
The old man—Han Gyeong-su—mused silently. After grinding relentlessly as the chief legal counsel for a major conglomerate in Seoul for decades, he had retreated here to Yeongwol following his wife's passing. It was a self-imposed penance for having been too buried in corporate work to be at her side during her final moments.
Yet this place had offered him unexpected peace. Unlike the territorial friction newcomers often complained about in rural villages, the locals here were always fretting over how best to take care of him. Now, those same warm, simple folks were inviting him to join them.
“May I join you here?”
“Ah, yes, of course.”
“Pardon the intrusion, then...”
With those words, Gyeong-su sat down and bowed respectfully to the young owner.
Yeonwoo returned the bow in kind.
The pleasantries were brief—Gyeong-su's attention was entirely hijacked by the fragrance wafting from the drink called Meari.
To think it possessed such an aroma... I assumed the rumors were exaggerated.
Pine fragrance blended with the subtle, dewy scent of damp earth. It seemed the name “Echo” had not been chosen lightly. Unable to resist his surging curiosity, Gyeong-su raised the cup to his lips.
A stream of flavor and scent glided smoothly down his throat.
A truly exquisite spirit...
Now he understood why it was named Meari. The crisp, verdant pulse of flourishing vegetation unfurled across every corner of his palate. Thinking that perhaps it tasted even better because he hadn’t had a drink in so long, he took another sip. Yet his impression remained unchanged. If anything, it deepened.
If this is any indication, I can’t help but look forward to their other spirits... Ah, but did he say this was all they have?
Swirling the cup with a touch of regret, Gyeong-su savored the lingering finish. Drinking Meari alongside the accompanying snacks would surely offer another delightful experience. Even so, the human heart was greedy; he naturally yearned to taste something new.
No, that's enough. Any more would be mere greed.
Yes, greed. Gyeong-su decided to settle his thoughts. Around him, the other elders were burying their noses in their cups, murmuring in admiration and letting out satisfied exclamations after every sip. Yeonwoo, the young master of the brewery, wore a bright, fulfilled smile, and the snacks served alongside the liquor were beyond reproach.
To be this content was more than enough.
Right at that moment, Yeonwoo spoke.
“Sir, do you happen to enjoy drinking on a regular basis?”
“Hmm? Does it show? Haha. I do appreciate fine liquor, though I naturally stepped away from it after moving here.”
The young owner had slipped over to sit beside him before he realized it. Song Yeonwoo, was it? From his poise to the way he carried himself in conversation, he carried an air of gentle yet seasoned composure—almost as if a middle-aged man were wearing the skin of a youth.
As if that were possible.
Smirking faintly at the fleeting absurdity of the thought, Gyeong-su lifted his cup.
“Was there something you wished to ask?”
“Ah, it’s just that... if possible, we actually have a newly brewed variation of Meari. I was wondering if I could ask for your critique.”
“Oho...”
That was an exceptionally tempting offer. Just as he was yearning to try something new, such a proposal had landed right in his lap.
“Ahem, but the others are here as well...”
“Haha... It looks like they’ve already had plenty to drink.”
Gyeong-su lifted his head to survey the room. The elders were completely lost in their own merriment, echoing compliments and relishing the pleasant buzz. They were far too engrossed in the festivities to pay attention. In a situation like this, sneaking a private taste wouldn't hurt.
Having successfully rationalized it to himself, Gyeong-su gave a nod. The young owner grinned and produced a bottle.
“You had it prepared all along.”
“Haha... We were curious ourselves.”
“Oho. What a splendid label.”
The label affixed to the bottle depicted vibrant autumn foliage upon a mountain, with ripening grains of rice painted beneath.
Smiling at Gyeong-su's reaction, Yeonwoo popped the cap.
With a soft pop, the bouquet blossomed into the air. As Gyeong-su took in the seamless harmony of smooth nuttiness and delicate sweetness, a cup appeared before his eyes.
“This is our new Meari.”
The grandfather accepted the proffered cup and spent a long moment inhaling its bouquet.
Watching him, I swallowed dryly.
I knew exactly who he was. To be completely honest, I was stunned. Even in my past life, I had never imagined that this man was living right here.
“The aroma is remarkably profound.”
Han Gyeong-su.
In the liquor industry, failing to recognize his name would brand you a complete fraud. Years from now, the book he would publish—On Korean Traditional Spirits—would become required reading for anyone in the country with even a passing interest in alcohol.
Look at him even now. He evaluated the aroma of Meari: Autumn with the seasoned grace of a master critic. To think that at this point in time, he was residing in a sleepy village in Yeongwol.
“Infusing floral aroma... Quite an experimental endeavor.”
“Yes, that's correct. We used dried chrysanthemum blossoms. I won't say any more for now, lest I bias your palate.”
“Well, now. Look at you...”
Gyeong-su wore an expression of genuine astonishment. After all, Meari had only been released a few months ago; he likely hadn't expected us to brew something with such aromatic complexity so soon.
After letting a sip glide down his throat, he murmured softly:
“This is extraordinary...”
“Excuse me?”
“The sweetness coaxed from the chrysanthemum carries the brightness of fresh blossoms alongside the richness of ripe fruit, coupled with a smooth nuttiness one might expect from roasted grains...”
Spot on.
That was the exact manifestation of the flavor spirits I had witnessed myself.
Yet he wasn't finished.
“If the original was like morning dew clinging to grass, this is like a flowing river—all while retaining the serene spirit of the mountains. How on earth did you...?”
“Does it suit your palate?”
“Suit it? It’s magnificent! This is... this is truly astonishing. Good heavens...”
Another mouthful of pale golden liquor flowed past Gyeong-su’s lips. With his eyes closed, savoring every nuance of flavor, his expression was a portrait of pure bliss.
Yes, this was more than enough. To receive such high praise from none other than Han Gyeong-su was nothing short of an absolute triumph.
“Kekeke! Look at him loving it. If I'd known, maybe I should've guzzled down a bit more so it'd knock him clean off his feet!”
“Hold your horses, Moktong. If you'd done that, there wouldn't be a single drop left.”
Moktong and Songha strolled nearby, sniffing the air with apparent satisfaction at Gyeong-su’s glowing critique.
Setting down his empty cup, Gyeong-su asked:
“When do you plan to release this?”
“Ah... We could release it right away, but... we'll have to wait a little.”
“Is there some sort of problem...? Ah.”
“The village head must have mentioned it.”
Gyeong-su nodded at my remark.
That was the issue. The new Meari was a spirit meant to be unveiled amidst celebration, not while entangled in malicious rumors and corporate slander. In truth, it was partly my own stubbornness. Those who wanted it would buy it regardless. But I wanted to sweep away every trace of unpleasantness before stepping forward.
Perhaps it was lingering trauma from my life before regression. I had suffered too many underhanded blows back then to take any chances.
“Though I’m merely an old man idling in a mountain village now... I happen to know a fair bit about this sort of trouble.”
“What do you mean by—wait...”
He reached into his pocket, drew out a card, and handed it to me.
Printed on the card were the words Chief Legal Counsel of Seongyeong Group—one of the nation’s foremost conglomerates—alongside his name: Han Gyeong-su.
To think that before becoming a world-renowned spirits critic, he had lived as an elite legal titan. As I stood dazed by a fact I had never known, he continued:
“It’s an old card from before my retirement, but my juniors in the field should be able to lend a hand.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I couldn't possibly...”
“Nonsense. Consider it payment for being treated to such marvelous alcohol. Truth be told, I'm practically itching to drink more of it. Haha. Shouldn't you get it released as soon as possible? Besides, you're bound to run into plenty of legal hurdles going forward.”
Gyeong-su spoke with an affable smile.
He was entirely right. For now, we were managing things with Sejun's assistance, but there was a limit to what basic legal knowledge could handle. If we wanted to introduce Songhadang's spirits to the world stage, amateur legal footing wouldn't cut it.
Making up my mind, I accepted the card and slipped it into my pocket.
“If we need assistance, I will be sure to contact you.”
“Anytime.”
“Would you care for another cup?”
At my offer, Gyeong-su broke into a wide grin.
“As many as you’ll pour.”
After enjoying a few more drinks, the village elders headed back home. Because the village head and the designated drivers couldn't drink, we made sure to send them off with a bottle of Meari each.
As I cleaned up alongside the staff, Sejun sidled up next to me.
“I’m glad everyone had a great time. Oh, and the footage came out really well.”
“Then we should edit it and get it uploaded right away. So no more needless gossip can take root.”
“I’ll have it uploaded to NewTube in no time!”
Treating the elders out of gratitude had been our primary motive, but there was a secondary purpose: shutting down the frauds who kept using local residents as an excuse to stir up trouble.
“And we should probably start sales for the new Meari as well.”
“Shall I post the announcement?”
“Yes. Please put it up right away.”
Not long after, the Songhadang website crashed completely.