Mountain nights fall swiftly. By eight o'clock, even the summer sun had vanished completely, swallowed by the encroaching darkness that settled over the peaks.

In the countryside, there were no lively entertainments after dark, and after a day of hard labor, Liu Rui usually retired to his room early.

Though he had brought back novels rented from the county town, the Liu household still lacked electricity, and kerosene lamps strained the eyes. So he simply lay on his bed, listening to the chorus of insects and the occasional croak of frogs in the distance. profound tranquility settled over him.

Though he had forfeited university to return to the countryside, Liu Rui was confident that even here, he could carve out a fulfilling life.

Soon, fatigue crept in.

Within moments, he was asleep.

The moment Liu Rui’s snores filled the room, a faint blue glow materialized.

It emanated from the bead he’d picked up while fishing that afternoon—now emitting an eerie, ethereal light in the darkness.

Gradually, the glow intensified, as if a tiny lantern had been lit within the room.

Strangely, the light didn’t drift far from Liu Rui’s body. Instead, it spread over him like liquid mercury, bathing him in an otherworldly radiance.

The soft blue hue, reminiscent of springtime, illuminated the humble room with an almost sacred warmth—though no living soul was there to witness it.

The light flowed across his form, and within its glow, intricate patterns emerged: flowers, birds, grasses, insects, celestial herbs, and mythical beasts—like holographic projections from a science fiction film.

The images were vivid, almost lifelike. The birds seemed poised to burst forth from the light; the plants glistened with dew, radiating an almost tangible vitality.

Yet this dazzling spectacle went unseen by any living being, leaving no ripple of reaction.

The glow persisted for about fifteen minutes before gradually retracting back into the bead. With one final, blinding flash, the stone vanished without a trace.

Liu Rui, still deep in slumber, remained utterly unaware of the miraculous transformation his simple trinket had undergone.

In his dreams, he found himself transported to a paradise of breathtaking beauty.

Here, lush vegetation swayed in the breeze, and birds soared overhead, their songs filling the air with melody. Golden carp leapt from the lake’s surface, their scales catching the sunlight in dazzling displays.

Timid hares and deer approached the water’s edge to drink, freezing at the slightest sound before vanishing into the underbrush.

Along the shore, towering fruit trees bore strange, vibrant fruits, their colors so vivid they seemed almost unreal. A gentle breeze carried their intoxicating fragrance, leaving Liu Rui in a state of blissful wonder.

...

Morning arrived with the raucous chatter of magpies.

Two nests in the osmanthus trees outside his door had made the birds the Liu family’s most reliable alarm clock.

Stepping outside, Liu Rui inhaled deeply, the crisp scent of vegetation invigorating him instantly.

Though summer had arrived, a faint mist still clung to Mirror Lake in the distance, shifting shapes in the breeze. Kingfishers darted across the water, their plunges sending ripples across the surface.

In the valley below, smoke began curling from village chimneys, while distant barks and crowing cocks added life to the idyllic scene.

The surrounding mountains, their forests rustling in the wind, seemed to awaken with a collective sigh.

After stretching in the courtyard to shake off sleep, Liu Rui returned inside to dress—only to realize the red thread around his neck was now bare.

The bead was gone.

He frowned, glancing around the room. Had it fallen off during his bath?

Shrugging it off, he dressed and headed downstairs to start brewing.

The Liu family’s five-room tile house was efficiently divided: the leftmost room served as the distillery, with a storage closet beside it. The central hall was flanked by two rooms, each split into two bedrooms—ample space for the family of five.

As he approached the distillery, Liu Rui heard his mother releasing the chickens from their coop behind the house, letting them forage in the orchard and along the stream. With Little Green Mountain providing ample space, the family’s poultry could feed on insects rather than relying solely on grain.

After exchanging greetings with his father, who sat on the porch, Liu Rui entered the distillery and began firing up the boiler to steam the rice.

Brewing rice wine was an intricate process, requiring meticulous attention at every stage: steaming, cooling, mixing with distiller’s yeast, pressing into vats, fermenting, aging, and finally, a second distillation to achieve the perfect flavor.

Each step demanded precision—any mistake could ruin the batch’s taste or yield. Factors like rice quality, seasonal temperature fluctuations, and yeast quantities all played critical roles, nuances only a seasoned brewer could fully grasp.

Thankfully, the family now used a modern boiler system, simplifying many tasks compared to the old-fashioned cauldron method. Otherwise, Liu Rui would have struggled to manage alone.

Though he’d grown up watching his father brew, absorbing knowledge over a decade, it had taken months of hands-on guidance to truly master the craft.

What set Liu family wine apart was their ancestral yeast recipe—a closely guarded secret and the foundation of their livelihood.

In just an hour and a half, the rice was steamed. Liu Rui transferred the steaming grains onto bamboo mats to cool, the steam from the boiler and the rice raising the room’s temperature by several degrees. Shedding his shirt, he worked bare-chested.

"Hey, it’s hot in here—don’t come in!" he called as Liu Tongtong bounced toward the doorway.

"You doubt me?" she pouted defiantly. "I can help tend the fire!"

"Of course you’re the best!" Liu Rui knew how to handle her—flattery worked wonders. "Go help Mom with breakfast. I’m starving."

"Wait… when did you get a tattoo?!" she suddenly exclaimed, pointing at his chest. "You always said tattoos were for hooligans!"

Liu Rui froze.

Slowly, he looked down.

His breath hitched.

There, on his chest, was a perfect circular mark—glowing faintly blue.

What in the world...?