“According to a drunken slip of the tongue by Old Brooks, one of the main ingredients in this wine is snake blood.”

“Snake blood? What kind of medicinal ingredient is that?” Edward Grant asked in surprise.

“It’s not ordinary snake blood—those are medicinal snakes. It’s said they are raised from a young age, with their food mixed with lingzhi, goji berries, ginseng, and other precious herbs. After a year, they are slaughtered and their blood is used in the wine. That’s why this wine is also called medicinal snake wine.”

“Wow, they have to be raised for a whole year? That must cost a fortune!” Edward Grant exclaimed in shock.

“Exactly. This wine is quite expensive—one jar costs a hundred taels of silver. That’s why I said Old Brooks really went all out this time.”

After hearing this, Henry Sutton was tongue-tied. One jar of wine cost a hundred taels of silver; three jars would be three hundred taels. As soldiers, they only earned ten taels a year—it would take ten years’ wages to buy a single jar. If it weren’t for Stephen Blake leading the way this time, he probably would never have tasted such a precious thing in his whole life.

“Come on, enough chit-chat, everyone should give it a try.” Brian Cooper grabbed a jar, slapped it open, and broke the clay seal. Instantly, an incredibly rich aroma of wine wafted out.

Several women, without being told, had already taken the initiative to fill everyone’s cups with Drunken Moon Wine. Stephen Blake raised his cup and said, “This wine is strong and has a powerful after-effect, hence the name Drunken Moon. So far, no one has managed to drink a whole jar alone and stay standing. Everyone, drink according to your own capacity, but three cups is the limit. Otherwise, I’m afraid you won’t be able to get up later, and the lovely ladies will be disappointed.”

Amid the ladies’ playful scolding, Henry Sutton also drank. The wine tasted sweet at first, but as soon as it reached the stomach, it turned into a ball of fire, a wave of heat quickly spreading through the whole body, leaving a warm and comfortable feeling. However, this was just how ordinary people felt; for Henry Sutton, it was a different experience.

After drinking the wine, Henry Sutton not only felt the heat, but was surprised to find that the warmth seemed to seep into his blood vessels. Then, his blood circulation sped up, and the heat was absorbed by his blood, transforming into his own blood. Of course, this was just how it felt to him, but it truly happened.

Ever since his massive blood loss last time, Henry Sutton’s body had never fully recovered. Even after so many days of recuperation, it would still take three to five months to completely replenish the lost blood. But after just one cup of this wine, the weakness in his limbs was greatly reduced, astonishing him.

There wasn’t much wine in the jar; after everyone had a bowl, more than half was gone. After three cups each, only a little more than one jar was left. The wine really did have a strong after-effect—everyone’s faces were flushed. Fortunately, they were all soldiers with good tolerance, so no one got drunk.

Brian Cooper pulled the beauty beside him and laughed loudly: “Everyone, since leaving the northern frontier, I’ve been holding back for three months. I’m off to enjoy myself now, excuse me.” With a loud laugh, he left with the blushing beauty in his arms. Although northern heroes are known for being uninhibited, such wantonness was rare, showing he was indeed a bit tipsy.

With Brian Cooper taking the lead, the others also left one after another. Even Edward Grant left with a beauty at Henry Sutton’s signal.

Chapter 7: Still Standing

In a short while, the place was empty, leaving only Henry Sutton and Vivian sitting across from each other.

Henry Sutton smiled at Vivian, turned, picked up the wine jar, and began drinking by himself.

Vivian watched in surprise as Henry Sutton, after everyone else had left, first finished off the remaining Drunken Moon Wine, then opened the seal on the third jar and kept drinking cup after cup. She raised her sleeve to cover her face, so no one would see her unconsciously open her mouth in astonishment.

Stephen Blake’s words were not the least bit exaggerated. Drunken Moon Wine was said to be strong enough to intoxicate even the moon, so its potency was legendary. Although it didn’t burn going down, its after-effect hit fast and hard—those with weaker tolerance would pass out after just one cup.

But seeing Henry Sutton drink like this, Vivian began to wonder if Mr. Brooks had brought the wrong wine. Every time Henry Sutton poured a bowl, he would down it in one gulp, then narrow his eyes in satisfaction, clearly savoring the taste. This wasn’t unusual—some true connoisseurs did the same when drinking their favorite wine. But what was strange was the sheer amount Henry Sutton drank. Before long, he had finished the third jar as well, smacked his lips a few times as if still unsatisfied, and opened his eyes. Though his face was flushed and he reeked of alcohol, his eyes were bright and clear, with only a hint of drunkenness.

“Mister, you really can hold your liquor.” Vivian had met countless people, but never someone with such capacity. Even more rare was his good drinking manners—he didn’t vomit, make a scene, or get handsy.

“Being able to drink isn’t much, Miss Vivian. They’ve all gone upstairs—what about us?” Emboldened by the slight buzz, Henry Sutton suddenly became much bolder, saying things he would never dare say normally.

Hearing Henry Sutton’s teasing, Vivian unexpectedly felt her face grow hot. Without a word, she stepped forward and gently helped Henry Sutton up, leading him out the door.