The Immortal's Secret Tavern

Chapter 6: The Alchemy Expert's Query

"I don't want a drink, innkeeper," the man said, his gaze drifting from the prostrate mercenaries to the iridescent shimmer within the earthenware jar. "I want to know where you hid the rest of the batch."

Shen tightened his grip on the broom handle, feeling the wood groan under his fingers. He looked at the newcomer—this Tang Ruiwen—and tried to push down the rising panic in his chest. "Listen, pal, I don't know what you're talking about. It’s berry wine. You want the recipe? It’s three parts 'leave me alone,' two parts 'I’m tired of cleaning up after thugs,' and a splash of pure, unadulterated bad luck."

Tang Ruiwen didn't even blink. He walked to the counter, his pristine robes flowing like water over the debris, and peered into the jar. He reached out a hand, his fingers hovering inches above the swirling, silvery liquid. "The viscosity is wrong for mere berry fermentation. And the ambient qi signature... it’s erratic, yet structured. Did you add something? A catalyst? Perhaps a pulverized spirit-crystal?"

Shen leaned back, putting on his most vacant, tired expression. "Catalyst? Look, chief, I barely know how to boil water without burning the kettle. I throw the berries in, I add water from the well, and I let it sit until it stops bubbling. If it glows, it’s usually because the sun hit it at a weird angle."

Tang turned his head, his eyes narrowed with a clinical, predatory sharpness. "Do not play the simpleton with me. I have analyzed the residues left on the floorboards. There is a trace of high-level refinement here that defies traditional alchemy. Are you telling me this was a natural occurrence?"

"It’s a tavern, not an academy," Shen said, waving his free hand dismissively. "I’m just a guy selling drinks. If you want a lecture on alchemy, go to the capital. If you want a drink, pay up and stop looking at my vats like you’re trying to dissect them."

"Dissecting is exactly what I intend to do," Tang replied, pulling a small, crystal-encased lens from his sleeve. He held it up to the jar, his brow furrowing as he studied the refraction of light within the liquid. "The structure is... impossible. It’s as if you’ve forced the essence of the mountain into a suspended state of flux. How did you stabilize it?"

Shen felt a bead of sweat trickle down his spine. "Stabilize it? I put a heavy lid on it. That’s about as stable as I get."

Tang sighed, a sound of profound disappointment. "You are wasting your potential, innkeeper. Do you have any idea how many masters would kill to get their hands on a process that produces such potent, yet volatile, spiritual energy?"

"I’m currently surrounded by twelve unconscious guys who tried to kill me for it," Shen countered, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm. "So, yeah, I’m pretty sure I have an idea. And let me tell you, it’s not really the lifestyle I’d recommend for anyone who enjoys sleeping at night."

"The mercenaries are irrelevant," Tang said, waving a hand at the sleeping pile of armor. "They are brute-force hunters. They don't understand the nuance of the brew. I, however, am a man of science. If you provide me with the proportions, I could potentially optimize this. We could be producing this by the barrel, refined, pure, and far more potent."

Shen stepped forward, leaning his elbows on the counter. "Look, mister... Tang, is it? Let me be real with you. You’re asking for secrets that don't exist. You want the recipe? Fine. I’ll tell you how I make it."

Tang’s eyes lit up with a glint of intense, almost frantic greed. "Yes? Go on. The ratio of water to berries? The temperature of the vat during the primary fermentation phase?"

Shen cleared his throat, improvising with the confidence of a man who had been lying for a living for the last three years. "It’s all about the moon cycle. You have to pick the berries exactly three minutes before the moon hits the peak of the cliffs. Then, you mash them in a stone bowl carved from volcanic rock—that’s important, the rock has to be still warm from the earth. Then, you mix in water drawn from the deepest point of the well, and stir it exactly seven times counter-clockwise, while holding your breath and wishing for good business."

Tang stared at him, his face slackening into a mask of pure confusion. "Holding my breath? Stirring counter-clockwise? That is... that is absolutely ridiculous. That has no bearing on the chemical bonding of qi particles."

"Hey, it works for me," Shen shrugged, putting on a smirk. "You want the 'miracle,' you gotta follow the 'miracle' steps. If the alchemy doesn't work, maybe your technique is too stiff. Science, right?"

Tang let out a frustrated huff, his gaze snapping back to the jar. "You are mocking me. But if you think I will leave without uncovering the truth, you are sorely mistaken. This shop is now my laboratory."

"Laboratory?" Shen blinked, his blood running cold. "You’re staying here? In my tavern? My tavern that has a broken door, a cratered floor, and a sleeping pile of mercenaries?"

"It is the only place the source is active," Tang replied, pulling a small, glowing iron stake from his robe and driving it into the floorboards near the counter. The wood hissed as the metal etched a glowing sigil into the oak. "I will remain here, in this alley, until I have successfully replicated the chemical reaction. Do not think of interfering."

Shen watched the sigil pulse with an ugly, flickering light. "You’re really going to squat in my tavern? That’s my floor, you know! That’s, like, structural! You can’t just go around carving runes into it!"

"I am conducting research," Tang said, not even looking at him as he began to pace, taking notes in a small, leather-bound journal. "The humidity, the proximity to the cliffs, the residual energy of the previous drinkers—every variable matters. Do not bother me with your trivial complaints about property damage."

Shen gripped his broom until his knuckles felt like they were going to snap. He was dealing with a madman. A madman who was actually smart, which was significantly worse than the madmen who just liked to swing swords.

"Fine," Shen muttered, stepping back. "Stay. Conduct your 'research.' But when the landlord comes around, you’re the one explaining why there’s a glowing symbol on the floor. And if you break anything else, I’m charging you triple."

Tang didn't even look up from his notes. "Trivialities. Just tell me—did you use a sulfur-based binding agent, or was it purely organic?"

"It was berries, man! Just berries!" Shen threw his hands up and walked toward the back, heading for the tiny, cramped storeroom that served as his bedroom. He had to think. He had to figure out how to get rid of this alchemist, or he was never going to get a moment of peace.

As he reached the doorway, a sudden, sharp pop echoed from the main room. It was followed by a high-pitched whistling sound, like a kettle about to explode.

"What are you doing?" Shen shouted, running back toward the counter.

Tang was standing over a small, makeshift cauldron he had materialized out of thin air, his hands darting through the air in complex, shimmering patterns. "The volatile components are reacting! I just needed to introduce a minor spark of heat!"

"Wait, stop! That's not how—"

BOOM.

The blast wasn't large, but it was incredibly concentrated. A cloud of thick, purple smoke erupted from the cauldron, filling the tavern instantly. It smelled like burnt sugar and rotting eggs. The explosion sent a shower of sparks flying in every direction, one of which landed squarely on the stack of old, dry menus near the window.

"Oh, for the love of—" Shen grabbed a bucket of water and doused the flames, coughing violently as the purple smoke clung to his lungs.

Tang emerged from the haze, his face soot-stained, his robes singed at the sleeves, and his eyes wild with exhilaration. "Fascinating! The combustion wasn't standard. It was a secondary reaction between the berries and the air pressure in this valley! Do you see, innkeeper? We are on the verge of a breakthrough!"

Shen wiped the soot from his eyes, looking at his smoldering curtains, the singed counter, and the absolutely manic expression on the alchemist's face. He felt a deep, hollow ache in his chest. He was never going to have a quiet winter, was he?

"Yeah," Shen muttered, staring

at the destruction. "A breakthrough. That’s exactly what I wanted."