ryethenovel Chapter 171 The Most Expensive Poison
Chapter 171 The Most Expensive Poison
(Thank you all for your support! I'm going to visit relatives on the second day of the Lunar New Year, so typing on my laptop is slower. I'll have to post the extra chapter later.)
June 25, 1989.
Pauillac, Gironde department, France.
The afternoon sun was scorching, like a layer of scalding gold oil poured onto the gravelly Médoc land.
Heatwaves rolled through the vineyards, the air thick with the dry, dusty smell. The grape leaves, baked under the scorching sun, emitted a raw, slightly bitter aroma. Bordeaux had been unusually hot these past few days; the leaves on the vines were curled and yellowing, looking wilted.
A black Citroën CX slowly pulled up in front of Château Latour's iconic cylindrical tower.
The car door opened.
A foot wearing a beige strappy sandal stepped onto the scorching white gravel.
Satsuki got off the bus. Today she was wearing a wide-brimmed straw sun hat with the brim pulled low, sunglasses on her face, and a breathable linen shirt paired with beige trousers.
"It's so hot."
Fujita followed closely behind, getting out of the car and quickly opening a black parasol to shield Satsuki's head. Even in his light summer suit, fine beads of sweat instantly appeared on his forehead.
"The sun here is even more intense than in Tokyo."
She gently pushed aside the umbrella Fujita handed her, looked up at the dazzling sun overhead, and at the vast vineyards in the distance, twisted and deformed by the heatwave.
She squatted down.
When my fingers touched the ground, the white gravel was warm and hot to the touch.
She picked up a pebble and gently rubbed it between her fingers, feeling the heat emanating from the depths of the earth.
Drought.
1989 was a dry year.
For farmers, this is a disaster. But for grapes, the water evaporates, and the roots, in order to survive, have no choice but to desperately grow downwards to absorb minerals from the deeper layers. Sugar accumulates wildly in the fruit, and acidity is concentrated.
These are the necessary conditions for creating legendary vintages.
Satsuki released his grip, and the pebble fell back to the ground with a soft thud.
She patted the dust off her hands, a slight smile playing on her lips.
Not far away, the tranquility of the winery was broken by the loud noise of an engine.
A bus full of Japanese tourists was parked in front of the visitor center by the roadside. The words "Agricultural Cooperative Overseas Study Tour" were printed on the side of the bus.
The car door opened, and a group of middle-aged Japanese men wearing short-sleeved shirts and Canon cameras around their necks poured out. They were making a lot of noise, wiping their sweat with handkerchiefs, and pointing at the somewhat withered grapevines.
"What? This is Latour? It looks just like a grape trellis in the countryside of Yamanashi Prefecture!"
"Exactly, the leaves are all yellow, how can these grapes taste good? I think this year's wine is in jeopardy."
"Never mind, we're already here. The tour guide said the shops here sell second-label liquors, let's hurry and buy a few bottles as gifts! This is Latour, just put a label on it and it can sell for tens of thousands of yen in Ginza!"
Like a swarm of ants drawn by a sweet scent, they rushed to the winery's gift shop, waving francs and yen, and swept the shelves clean of "Les Forts de Latour" (Latour's second label), which were not from top vintages.
Some people even tried to climb over the fence to pick a bunch of unripe grapes to taste, but were chased down by security guards blowing their whistles.
Satsuki stood in the shadow of the tower, watching this scene unfold.
Her expression was indifferent, and her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses.
"Let's go."
Satsuki turned away from the noisy group of compatriots and walked deeper into the winery's office area.
"The place we're going to is underground."
……
Pass through the heavy oak gate and descend the winding stone steps.
The air here suddenly turned cold.
Underground wine cellar.
This is another world. The thick limestone walls insulate against the scorching heat and noise of the outside world, and the air is cool and damp, filled with the rich aroma of moist oak barrels and aged red wine.
In the dim light, oak barrels were piled up like mountains, stretching all the way to the end of the darkness.
Each wooden barrel had its number and year written on it in chalk.
The general manager of Château Latour, a white-haired French gentleman in an elegant three-piece suit, stood at the end of the aisle. His name was Jean-Paul, and he was nervously rubbing his hands together, his gaze sweeping over Satsuki and Fujita.
"Ms. Saionji, regarding your earlier expressed intention to purchase..."
Jean-Paul looked at the excessively young Asian girl in front of him, his eyes filled with doubt and incomprehension, even with a hint of helplessness as he tried to persuade the naive child.
"Are you sure... you want to buy 'en primeur' wine? And on this scale?"
"The market isn't good right now," Jean Paul said, adjusting his glasses. "Orders from the US are decreasing, and... the weather's been too hot this year; many people are worried the grapes will die from the heat. Buying futures at this time is very risky."
En primeur wines are futures contracts for wine.
This is usually a game for professional wine merchants and seasoned collectors, full of gambling elements. And this little girl in front of me looks like she's not even of legal drinking age.
Satsuki ignored his advice.
She walked among rows of oak barrels, her fingers lightly tracing the rough wooden surfaces. The wood's texture and coolness were felt under her fingertips.
"risk?"
Satsuki stopped in front of a huge oak barrel, turned around, took off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of clear and innocent eyes.
"Mr. Jean Paul, you may have misunderstood."
She smiled slightly, her tone revealing the willfulness and naivety of a spoiled young lady.
"I bought these wines not to resell them, nor for any return on investment."
"That's because...?" Jean-Paul was a little confused.
"For collection purposes."
Satsuki said matter-of-factly.
"I'll be turning sixteen soon. My father asked me what I wanted as a gift, and I said I wanted to build my own wine cellar. But all the wines these days are too old-fashioned, I don't like them."
She pointed to the wooden barrels with the number "1989" written on them.
"I think the year's numbers are very auspicious. And I heard this year is particularly hot? A passionate year should produce some very interesting wines, right?"
"I want to buy them all and put them in my wine cellar. I'll take them out to drink when I get married (which won't happen), or when I have a party."
"Just... because of this?" Jean-Paul stared in disbelief.
Is it really worth buying 30% of Château Latour's production this year just for a birthday gift or for a "lucky number"?
This is a huge business worth hundreds of millions of francs!
"Otherwise what?"
Satsuki tilted her head, looking confused.
"Our house in Tokyo is very big, and the basement is so empty that if you don't fill it with something, your voice will echo."
She gestured to Fujita.
Fujita took out a pre-prepared letter of intent and a copy of a Swiss bank draft from his briefcase.
"This is the deposit. Swiss francs, cash, payable in full at once."
Satsuki added.
"But I have one condition."
"I don't want to ship this batch of wine back now. It's too much trouble. I want you to keep it in the cellar here, with my name on it. I'll have someone come and pick it up whenever I remember, or when my house in Tokyo is renovated."
"Besides, not just Latour. Margaux, Mouton Rothschild, Haut-Brion... I want a little of all of them. Mr. Jean-Paul, you have a wide network in this circle, could you put in a good word for me? Just say that the youngest daughter of the Saionji family wants to buy some toys."
Jean-Paul looked at the promissory note, then at Satsuki, who looked relaxed.
He swallowed back all the excuses he had prepared, including market analysis and quota restrictions.
Talking about the market with an Asian heiress who buys top-tier wines like toys? That's an insult to the Swiss franc.
In this industry, cash is God. And if God is an ignorant fool, then she's God's father... oh, I mean God's mother.
"Since Miss Saionji is in such a refined mood..."
Jean Paul's attitude underwent a complete 180-degree turn, and his wrinkles beamed with joy.
"No problem! Absolutely no problem! I'll coordinate with the board about the quota. It's an honor for Latour to contribute to the Saionji family's wine cellar."
He glanced at Satsuki, as if he had thought of something, and tentatively asked:
"Actually, if you're so interested in the terroir of Bordeaux... there's a second-growth estate next door that's having some business difficulties and the owner is looking to sell."
"Although it's not as famous as Latour, the soil there is the same as ours—top-quality gravel. If you'd like, buying it as a...vacation estate would be quite nice."
This is something many French wineries have been doing lately: selling their poorly managed assets to the Japanese at high prices, letting them bear the hefty maintenance costs, while they themselves enjoy life with the money.
Satsuki looked at Jean-Paul's expectant eyes.
A barely perceptible sneer flashed in her eyes.
Do you think you can take advantage of me?
"Huh? A winery?"
She tilted her head, her eyes full of confusion.
"I don't want to."
Satsuki covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief, seemingly uncomfortable with the musty smell in the wine cellar.
"Mr. Jean-Paul, farming is a farmer's job. You have to worry about the weather, the insects, and the workers' strikes. It's too dirty and too tiring."
"I only like what's inside the bottle."
"I only like the kind of pleasure that comes from simply unplugging something, not the pleasure of stepping in mud."
Jean-Paul was taken aback for a moment, then cursed inwardly: "She really is a spoiled rich girl."
But that's perfect. Buying only products, not assets—that's the ideal customer.
"Since that's the case..."
Jean Paul gave a wry smile, and to ease the tension, he picked up the glass thief hanging on the wall and walked over to an oak barrel.
"Since you're here, why don't you try some?"
"This is new wine that was just put into the barrel last week and is still undergoing malolactic fermentation. Although it tastes terrible, this is its most original form."
He uncorked the bucket and inserted the glass straw into it.
The purplish-black liquid was drawn up and poured into a clear tasting glass.
The liquid was cloudy, its color as dark as ink, completely lacking the clear ruby hue of a finished wine, and the edges were covered with a layer of foam produced by fermentation.
Satsuki took the wine cup.
Instead of swirling the glass or smelling the aroma like those who know their stuff, she simply picked up the glass and took a big gulp, just like she would with a glass of ordinary grape juice.
The instant the liquid enters the mouth.
"Well……"
Satsuki's entire face instantly scrunched up.
As if she had drunk some kind of poison, she suddenly covered her mouth, her brows furrowed tightly, and her eyes revealed undisguised pain and disgust.
"Miss Nishi...Saionji?"
Jean-Paul's heart leaped into his throat.
It’s over.
Seeing Satsuki's distressed expression, cold sweat broke out on his forehead instantly.
How could he forget that the other party was just a teenage girl! This kind of liquid, which was still in the fermentation stage and had tannins as strong as sandpaper, was difficult for even adults to swallow, let alone a rich young lady who was used to drinking sweet drinks.
"Well... wine at this stage really... doesn't taste very good..." Jean-Paul stammered, trying to explain, his mind already desperately calculating the loss of this order. "If you don't like it, we can..."
"Cough, cough..."
Satsuki suppressed the urge to vomit and swallowed the bitter liquid with difficulty.
She vigorously wiped the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief, and even stuck out her tongue and breathed out a disgusted breath.
"It's really... awful to drink."
She made her comments without any politeness, her eyes even welling up with tears, looking aggrieved as if she had been bullied.
Jean Paul looked ashen-faced.
However, the next second.
Satsuki did not put down her wine cup.
She looked at the murky, ugly liquid in the glass, which had initially been filled with disgust, but a strange light suddenly appeared in her eyes.
"Although it tastes awful, like swallowing a stone."
Satsuki looked up and smiled at Jean-Paul, whose face was filled with despair. That smile held the excitement of discovering a new toy, and a touch of cruel childlike innocence.
"But I tasted... power."
"Power?" Jean-Paul was stunned.
"Yes, power."
Satsuki swirled the wine glass, looking at the purple stains hanging on the glass.
"It's like an untamed wild beast now, biting my tongue and kicking my throat. This vitality... it's just amazing."
"I've heard my dad say that the more mischievous a child is when they're young, the more successful they'll be when they grow up."
"Is this barrel of wine the same?"
She tilted her head and said it in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Its bones are so hard, it'll definitely live a long time. I want to lock it in my cellar for ten or twenty years and see if it still dares to bite people like that."
"This is indeed... a very interesting 'toy'."
Jean Paul stared wide-eyed at the eccentric young woman before him.
This is... how was it called again? The chuunibyou phase?
Comparing the aging potential of top-tier red wine to a "naughty child," and treating collecting as "taming an animal"... this kind of logic is simply unheard of.
But for some reason, he felt... damnably reasonable.
"Miss Saionji... your insights are truly... unique." Jean-Paul wiped his sweat, overjoyed.
As long as she's willing to buy it, I'll buy it for her, let alone for taming animals, or even for watering flowers!
"but……"
Satsuki turned around and handed the cup of "poison" in her hand, which she had only taken a sip of, to Fujita, as if she didn't want to hold it for even a second longer.
"I don't want to take a second sip now."
She walked towards the exit of the wine cellar, her heels making a light, rhythmic sound on the stone pavement.
"Fujita, pay up. I need to go back to the hotel for dessert to rinse my mouth."
"Yes, Miss."
……
Step out of the cold, damp wine cellar.
The moment I returned to the ground, a wave of heat hit me.
Satsuki put on sunglasses, concealing the fleeting coldness in her eyes.
That drink was really awful.
But the outrageously strong tannins and extremely high alcohol content were the most prominent features of 1989, the "year of the century".
That's a sign of longevity.
That's the seed of exorbitant profits.
She glanced back at the ancient winery tower behind her.
"A wild beast...?"
Satsuki chuckled softly to herself.
"When this beast is tamed, it will vomit up nothing but gold."
Deep underground in the cellars, the oak barrels lie dormant, sealed with the SA Group seal, awaiting their fate in the darkness.
Waiting to become the most expensive poison in the world.