Internal Cleanup of the DeVenger Family (7)

Even though it's called America's first Chardonnay, the problem is that this original Riesling within the estate is still selling incredibly well. It would be too much of a waste to rip everything out like they did in the fifties. Ah, thank you, Annie. I was so distracted I forgot. My lord, this is Annie. Her name is Annievia Smith Evans. She's Con's daughter and my goddaughter. She's currently assisting me as our winery's assistant winemaker.

Annievia was a warm-looking woman in her forties with a very friendly face. Henry shook her hand lightly and exchanged some small talk.

“It must be tough working under that meticulous Uncle Richard of yours.”

“Ugh, don't even get me started. I don't know how many pairs of shoes I've worn out chasing after my godfather.”

The moment their greetings ended, Richard took the documents Annie had given him and handed them to Henry, gesturing for him to open them right away. The first page read: The Necessity of Major Policy Changes for DeVenger Winery Due to the Farm Winery Act.

Henry signaled for them to wait a moment, then scanned through the contents as quickly as possible. After a brief pause, having grasped the general idea, he let out a small sigh and spoke.

“To summarize, you're saying that the closed-off nature we've maintained has actually degraded our Riesling into 'factory wine' and tarnished its reputation?”

“My lord, ever since that law passed in '76, the world's gone completely mad. They barely spray any proper pesticides on the vineyards, then haul in bug-eaten grapes and prattle on about 'natural' this and that. They don't have the machinery to process things cleanly, so they mash everything by hand and dress it up as 'traditional methods' to charge more than our Riesling. That's not wine—it's closer to grape juice!”

The Farm Winery Act. This legislation, enacted to revive New York's wine industry, made it easy for small farms to obtain licenses and allowed them to sell up to 250,000 bottles per year directly. Until then, large operations like DeVenger had endured high taxes and strict regulations under their 'commercial winery' licenses to dominate the market. But after 1976, small grape farms had sprung up like mushrooms, all slapping on labels and jumping into the competition.

These newcomers attacked existing large wineries as dirty factories and plastered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their own labels with provocative phrases like Organic, Handcrafted, and Estate Bottled. And the most fatal change brought by the law ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the permission for 'on-site sales.'

Once it became possible to sell wine directly from the farm, the number of people enjoying wine tourism and winery tours had exploded since last year. They experienced the wine production process, sampled directly from aging oak barrels, and spread picnic blankets beside the vineyards to enjoy cheese and wine. Some well-known small wineries were already differentiating themselves with signature programs, and starting this year, even large wineries—though still restricted from sales due to regulations—were gradually opening up for tours.

In other words, wine tourism was becoming commonplace and the market was maturing. For now, many large operations were holding out by staying closed due to the strict rules of their commercial licenses, but Henry knew the future where everyone opened their doors was inevitable. When that time came, it was obvious they'd face suspicious criticism asking why only 'Old Chard' remained so tightly sealed away.

Richard had recognized this point in his report as well, but his reaction was extremely negative. To summarize his lengthy argument, it boiled down to three lines:

He clearly knew the current industry trend was heading this way, but his sentences were laced with irritable emotion that his pride and philosophy simply could not accept it.

He knows it himself. He doesn't like it, but he understands that the times are changing.

That wasn't all. Henry looked even further into the future. For now, distilled spirits regulations were strict, but eventually both breweries and distilleries would all open up.

At that point, I'd either have to kick both of them out of the estate, or I'd have to leave myself?

Historic applejack, America's first apple brandy, America's first Riesling white wine. At this level, it went beyond simple experiential courses—they'd practically need to build a family museum near the estate. With increased foot traffic, all sorts of people would come swarming, and the security of this vast estate would end up like a bug net full of holes. It might actually be much safer to live in a luxurious penthouse in Manhattan with only one entrance.

It's not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too late yet. Moving later would face fierce backlash, but right now it's fine. Even if I lose a bit of the story, my life comes first.

When his thoughts reached that point, an entirely new grand vision formed in Henry's mind.

Should I just relocate everything and turn this goldmine of land into a golf course and a private airport big enough for jumbo jets to take off and land? Build a hangar and even a private racing circuit?

With a furrowed brow, Henry pulled out his notebook and firmly wrote down “golf course,” “private airport,” and “private circuit.” After tucking the notebook back into his jacket pocket, he finally spoke.

“Hoo, this is something I'll need to think about carefully. Of course, I'm not saying we'll forcibly open the winery in defiance of the law. What I'm pondering is the response plan you outlined. This plan for a 'Second DeVenger Winery' by cultivating large-scale vinifera in the Finger Lakes.”

“Yes, my lord. If we maintain the reputation of 'Old Chard' while slowly expanding using winery profits, there shouldn't be any problems!”

The problem is that all those profits are being devoured by the other subsidiaries... Is this guy subtly throwing shade?

A fleeting ominous thought crossed his mind, but Henry laughed heartily on the surface and promised Richard.

“We'll bring this issue up formally at the family meeting.”

After a brief handshake with Richard, Henry climbed back into the car with Jay. Only then did he speak in a complaining tone.

“Jay, please don't tell me the DeVenger Village to the south needs massive investment too?”

“Um… As far as I know, there isn't really anything that needs investment.”

“Even when I left the mansion for lunch today, I had no idea I'd end up taking on all these huge projects. This day really feels endless.”

The southern part of the estate was a sort of self-governing village where vassals, elders, and the families of servants lived together. In terms of the old estate system, it was a base where the households of the vassals gathered. With hundreds of residences, a school, a church, and a commercial district, it was too small to be called a city yet substantial enough to be more than a village—a peaceful haven.

What was particularly impressive was the medical support provided by the family as a welfare measure. Thanks to benefits so generous it was hard to believe this was America, the hospital was devouring the family's money in the most honest and terrifying way. But perhaps because of that, there wasn't a single shabby house in the village, and every building proudly displayed a meticulously maintained, luxurious appearance.

After a short meeting with Sirison—who managed the village on behalf of the family and was Benjamin's father—Henry was finally able to return safely to the car.

The final destination was an equestrian club and stud farm on the eastern side, spanning 1,000 acres. After shaking hands with William Wilson, the manager and Bart's close friend, Henry toured the inside of the club. The endless white wooden fences and the natural scenery unfolding between them were truly impressive.

Fortunately, when asked if he had any complaints, William answered “none.” Perhaps because that answer relieved the tension Henry had been feeling, the ranch scenery under the setting sun looked even more beautiful.

“I thought the previous head would never come here again. Even when Bart told me the new head was going to inspect the estate, I wondered if you'd really show up. After that riding accident during your mischievous childhood, you completely stopped visiting.”

“Ah… um, did I? It was so long ago that I barely remember it now. These days, I'm actually thinking about learning to ride again. Maybe it's because I'm getting older, but seeing this beautiful scenery makes me really want to gallop on horseback.”

“Haha, you're only twenty-two—what's this talk about getting old?” William laughed heartily.

Though Henry had encountered countless depictions of America's upper class through novels and videos, those were all indirect experiences. In his previous life, the only thing he'd done was screen golf at the gym. As for horses? He had been an ordinary citizen who couldn't even justify the cost of riding a donkey-like creature on Jeju Island. But now things were different.

If he didn't have to worry about money, he needed to carry himself with the dignity of the upper class, and horseback riding was the perfect sport for that. After researching through books and magazines, he learned that this equestrian club wasn't just a hobby space. In this era, horseback riding was a high-end investment and a powerful social venue. If the club's owner, Henry, couldn't even handle a horse, he would miss out on those tremendous benefits.

But will I really end up inviting people here for social business? Hmm…

Henry knew his own personality well. In his previous life, he had never once invited anyone to his home. Why? Because home was a place to rest, and bringing someone over meant having to pay attention to them, which was a huge source of stress.

“Ah, no problem at all! Among our horses, 'Bully' has an exceptionally gentle and obedient personality, making him a top-tier riding horse. There's no better mount for a beginner to learn on.”

Henry made an appointment with William for a lesson the next morning. With the blazing sunset at his back, Henry climbed into the car and finally turned toward the mansion.

Now all that's left are the external staff? Sigh, it's still a long way to go.