Guests Beneath the Pine (Part 3)
The moment she brought the glass to her nose, an elegant veil of oak enveloped her senses.
Yet there was nothing heavy or suffocating about it. Rather, rich ribbons of vanilla, coaxed from seasoned wood reminiscent of fine bourbon, intertwined seamlessly with a toasted, nutty warmth.
Honey, bright citrus... and even white chocolate...
It felt like stepping into a fairytale castle spun from delicate confections. While retaining an immaculate air of sophistication, the sweetness was astonishingly vivid. It struck the palate with immediate clarity, yet remained utterly graceful without a trace of cloying weight. Resting precisely on that elusive boundary, its mesmerizing depth commanded total surrender.
It feels like... like savoring an entire gourmet dessert in a single sip...
That was no exaggeration. Both the bouquet and the flavor truly mirrored a masterfully crafted dessert.
The only other time she had experienced such a sensation was with noble rot wine. That legendary nectar was pressed exclusively from grapes shriveled by Botrytis cinerea, their water evaporated until nothing remained but celestial, concentrated sugar. By pure happenstance, she had once tasted a world-class vintage of it.
Even a half-bottle—just three hundred and seventy-five milliliters—cost half a million won... How on earth can that same caliber of flavor be coming from this?
Even the finish was breathtaking. A single sip left a delicate, velvety resonance that hovered at the back of her throat for minutes without fading.
"No... I mean... wow... Woww..."
Who would believe this? That a small, quiet brewery tucked away in the Korean countryside had crafted such an elixir.
Yet that very realization brought a pang of preemptive disappointment to Subin's chest.
Don't tell me... are they even going to sell this? No, even if they put it on the market, I'll probably never get to drink it again...
Such was the unforgiving nature of capitalism. When an extraordinary product was born, and when it could not be mass-produced, its price soared into the stratosphere. This liquor was the quintessential example. With all due respect to the dedicated staff of Songhadang, there was an inherent ceiling to what human hands could brew from scratch.
Even if I'm willing to throw money at it, the competition will be so fierce that buying a bottle will be next to impossible... Which means it'll inevitably drop as an ultra-limited release...
And once a bottle became a limited edition, an even steeper hurdle awaited: the collectors. If hoarders who bought alcohol for speculative rarity rather than taste entered the fray, Subin's chances of ever tasting this spirit again would evaporate into thin air.
Well, what can I do? I just have to cherish this exact moment.
Tears pricked the corners of Subin's eyes amidst that fleeting burst of euphoria. She was desperately concentrating on every trace of flavor lingering on her tongue when a voice broke through her reverie.
"How is it?"
It was Sejun who pulled her back to reality. Faced with his inquiry, Subin answered without a heartbeat of hesitation.
"It's incredible."
"Haha! Thank you! To be honest, we only aged this as an experiment because we trusted Yeonwoo's gut! Getting praised by you on our very first attempt feels amazing. Haha!"
Sejun beamed, his grin lighting up his entire face. Watching him, Subin couldn't help but marvel.
She possessed a healthy dose of common sense herself. In any craft, an experiment was defined by countless failures before yielding a single viable result. That held doubly true when navigating the myriad volatile variables of barrel aging—the choice of wood, the duration of maturation, and the profile of the base brew.
And yet...
"An... experiment, you said?"
"We took filtered yakju made from Dongjeongchun and gave it a full maturation in black raspberry wine casks. We were nervous since it was our very first batch, but what a relief."
"Your first time?!"
"That's right. Still, we studied hard and poured everything into it. This guy's just playing it modest."
"Hey! Who's playing modest?! You're the one who tasted the base brew and out of nowhere declared we had to track down bokbunja casks!"
The easy banter flowing between them made it obvious they had been close friends long before becoming business partners. Sejun feigned indignation while radiating sheer joy over their success, while Yeonwoo simply stood by with a gentle smile, watching them all with quiet warmth.
Their first time?
Subin was thoroughly flabbergasted.
Their very first attempt, and they had taken the massive gamble of doing a full maturation in black raspberry wine casks—a vessel with virtually no precedent or reliable data in modern brewing. With bourbon barrels, for instance, everyone knew to expect toasted sweetness and vanilla, but seasoned bokbunja wood was uncharted territory. For all they knew, pouring immense capital into sourcing those casks could have yielded a foul, undrinkable mess unfit for market.
Achieving such an extraordinary outcome on the first try was miraculous enough, yet Yeonwoo was standing there looking completely unsurprised.
Almost as if... he already knew it would turn out like this...
Nothing else could explain his composure. To predict the precise outcome of maturation the instant he tasted the unaged base spirit, and to choose the exact barrel and aging method on instinct alone...
Did he come from the future or something?
The thought grazed the truth closer than she could ever realize, but Subin quickly shook her head. That was ridiculous—a childish fantasy. Time machines didn't exist.
Which meant this was purely the sheer, unadulterated genius of the man named Song Yeonwoo.
I heard he's only in his twenties...
A serene gravity that defied his youth, paired with features that grew increasingly charming the longer one looked. As she found herself staring fixedly at him, Yeonwoo blinked.
"Is there something on my face?"
"Ah! N-No! Not at all!"
Flustered by how brazenly she had been gaping, Subin snapped her head away, her face flushing crimson.
What a blunder!
Nobody enjoyed being stared down like an exhibit. Ever since stepping into the celebrity spotlight, she had taken meticulous care regarding public decorum, yet here she was slipping up. It seemed the exceptional liquor had gone straight to her head, bringing on an uncharacteristic buzz.
Fortunately, the information that followed blew away her intoxication in an instant.
"It's an aged yakju scheduled for release very soon. We named it Dalvorde."
"An aged yakju... Gasp! You mean this hasn't even hit the shelves yet? Is it really alright for me to be drinking this?"
"Of course."
"U-Um... in that case... could I have just one more glass...?"
Throwing all camera awareness to the wind, Subin squirmed with bashful delight and held out her glass once more. Her shameless display drew a hearty burst of laughter from everyone present—and the dokkaebis hovering overhead were chuckling right along with them.
The remainder of the shoot proceeded smoothly without incident. After wrapping up the distillery tour, they shared drinks of Meari against the tranquil backdrop of Yeongwol's natural scenery, exchanging candid impressions. Once the final cuts were in the can, Subin and her crew packed their gear, climbed into their van, and set off.
A short while later...
"He certainly works fast."
"Has my friend not exerted just as much diligence?"
The chime of my phone broke the morning stillness of the pavilion, where I sat enjoying the crisp birdsong. It was a message from Subin's manager, who had departed Songhadang only days prior.
"Things seem to be falling into place step by step."
"Because you laboured to make it so."
"I suppose I did."
Ever since my regression, I had sprinted forward without pause. I brewed our flagship Nokpaju, Meari, and nurtured its virgin-oak-aged sibling, Meari: Autumn. Along the way, I secured Yeong-gil's seasoned black raspberry casks, and welcomed invaluable companions I had never met in my previous life—Hajeong and the twins.
And at last...
"Today is Dalvorde's official launch."
Yunhwan had deliberately scheduled the video release for ten o'clock for that very reason. At that exact hour, sales for Dalvorde would commence simultaneously across Songhadang's official website and Juju Daily. The collaboration shoot on the Jeong Sul Bin channel and the Juju Daily interview were all coordinated pieces of the campaign.
"Why did you not speak more?"
"During the interview? About what?"
"About the trials and devotion poured into Dalvorde, or your grand aspirations, my friend."
Songha drifted down beside me, lightly adjusting his fedora. Brushing the hem of his modern three-piece suit, he settled comfortably onto the pavilion floorboards.
"Among humans, is the sheer taste of the drink truly all that matters?"
"It's still too early for grand speeches."
As I had said before, I felt uncomfortable lecturing about my philosophy or preaching my mindset. A brewer ought to let his alcohol do the talking. Some might call it stubborn old-fashioned pride, but my grandfather was the exact same way, and it seemed I had inherited his temperament.
"Besides, how could I possibly talk about the wager I made with the Dokkaebi King?"
"Haha! Knowing you remember puts my heart at ease!"
"More than anything, we already saw how much everyone loved it."
Dalvorde—the spirit about to make its grand debut to the world—had effortlessly conquered Subin's notoriously finicky palate. Nor was she alone; CEO Yoon Juho had taken a single sip and showered it with breathless praise, exclaiming, 'How on earth did you create something like this?!'
"You seem in remarkably high spirits."
"How could I not be?"
What greater joy was there than seeing one's sincere labor recognized? And what greater reward than knowing that the fruits of that labor could bring a genuine smile to another person's face?
"Only ten minutes left now."
"I wondered why you had stepped out here so early. It seems you were nervous after all."
"It's impossible not to be."
It wasn't a lack of confidence. If anything, I was brimming with it. Dalvorde possessed a flavor profile where someone might never have tasted it before, but no one would ever stop at just one glass.
"I think I'll feel like this every time we unveil a new spirit."
"Then that is no mere nervousness."
"Is it not?"
"Indeed. Is it not closer to a pleasant thrill of anticipation?"
A pleasant thrill.
Yes, Songha was right. What I was holding in my chest was anticipation. How would this spirit satisfy the people? How would they receive its taste, its aroma, and Hajeong's package design? How would the world welcome the culmination of all our hard work?
"You're right. I guess I'm looking forward to it."
"You have every right to. Good grief, the sheer volume Moktong swiped from that barrel... With how much he guzzled, even the leftover lees would have turned into a legendary brew."
"Hahaha!"
That was undeniably true. The old cellar dokkaebi had indulged so heavily that the cask felt noticeably lighter in our hands. A chuckle slipped out as I recalled Moktong nervously whistling into the air while Sejun tilted his head in bewilderment, wondering why the barrel was so light.
While we laughed, the clock crept to 9:59 AM.
With a quiet mechanical click, the second hand aligned perfectly with the top of the hour.
Buzzzzz!
Buzzz! Buzz!
Buzzzzzzzzz!
The smartphone began vibrating frantically against the wooden floorboards, as if an air raid siren had sounded. Startled by the furious rattling, I checked the screen to find an avalanche of incoming notifications.
How she had managed it was a mystery, but mere seconds past ten o'clock, Subin had already completed her purchase and sent over an authenticated receipt screenshot.
Though I hadn't checked the platform yet, Yunhwan's text confirmed that our promotional collaboration video on Subin's channel was already generating massive waves.
Meanwhile, Songhadang's employee group chat was descending into outright chaos.
A heated debate was raging over who had managed to snag a bottle of Dalvorde. It would have been wonderful to celebrate together in person, but because the crew had pulled countless late nights preparing for the launch, I had designated today a temporary company holiday. Seeing their reactions through text was the next best thing.
"Why is Sejun throwing a fit when he tasted the entire aging process from start to finish?"
"That is what you humans call romance, or sentimentality, is it not?"
"Well, I suppose so. But was getting a bottle really that difficult?"
Having witnessed the explosive demand for Meari: Autumn, we had released as much stock as physically possible for Dalvorde's initial run. If even the staff couldn't secure an order, did that mean...
As if confirming my sweet dread, a new message popped up on the screen.
"Whoa."
In the end, Dalvorde's entire introductory release completely sold out before a single day had passed.