011 The Unexpected Effects of Snake Wine

“Did you see what she was drinking just now? That was a bottle of Lasso Master Aged Liquor, 66 percent strong. That kind of potent white spirit, she can sit there with just some peanuts and drink half a kilo, then get up and go upstairs as if nothing happened. She does this every day.” Yang Chenguang gestured in Xiang Yuanyuan’s direction, then looked at Du Ruo with a hint of mischief.

“Well…” Du Ruo glanced at Xiang Yuanyuan’s back after hearing this, watching her tilt her head and take a drink. He’d noticed earlier that she didn’t sip her liquor—she’d down half a bowl in one go.

A woman like that, Du Ruo found hard to comment on. The thoughts he’d harbored faded somewhat—not that he had any real objection to women who drank, but a woman who could handle her alcohol like that was enough to make anyone hesitate.

Men often like women who can drink, as long as those women aren’t their own; they want their own woman to be able to drink, but not actually drink. It’s contradictory, but that’s reality.

Du Ruo and Yang Chenguang chatted and drank, admiring the view. Time slipped by unnoticed, and before long, it was nine o’clock. The proprietress, Xiang Yuanyuan, had finished her bottle, stood up, and headed upstairs.

As soon as she left, the other patrons began to settle their bills and trickle out. Yang Chenguang got up to pay as well, but Du Ruo stopped him, suggesting they wait a bit.

About ten minutes later, with the place nearly empty, Xiang Yuanyuan came slowly downstairs carrying a small package. She walked straight to their table.

“Here, this is the medicinal wine you wanted. Take it home and use it externally at first. If there’s no allergic reaction, you can try taking it internally. If you do have a reaction, get to the hospital immediately and bring the rest back for a refund.”

Her words were clear, not a trace of drunkenness in her speech. If not for the flush on her cheeks and the slight haze in her eyes, no one would believe she’d just downed that much strong liquor.

“Alright, I’ll transfer the money now. If it works, I’ll come back for more.” Du Ruo was straightforward, opened the package for a look, then sent her five thousand yuan by phone.

“Good man. If you need anything else, especially medicinal wine, you know where to find me.” Xiang Yuanyuan checked the transfer, her smile blooming, and her tone warmed toward Du Ruo. Then, turning toward the counter, she called out, “Xiao Juan, the bill for Secretary Yang and his friend’s table is on the house.”

“Thank you. We’ll come back next time,” Du Ruo replied without fuss. After thanking her together with Yang Chenguang, the two left the tavern with the package.

Parting ways with Yang Chenguang, Du Ruo walked home alone. He hadn’t drunk much—just about two taels of medicinal wine—so he was far from inebriated. Instead, the little he’d had left him feeling relaxed.

“I thought women had burnt out all my passion…”

Humming a tune as he walked down the asphalt road, Du Ruo felt a long-lost sense of ease. He was deeply grateful for his decision to return home.

Once home, he washed up and went straight to bed. The effects of the wine made for a particularly restful night.

He slept soundly until the alarm blared at six in the morning.

As soon as it rang, Du Ruo rolled out of bed, grabbed the medicinal wine he’d bought the day before, and headed out to the backyard.

Standing there, he stripped down to just his shorts, then carefully opened the bottle.

He brought it to his nose and sniffed—the scent was intense, almost pungent, with a sharp, fishy tang beneath the alcohol. Not exactly pleasant.

He poured half a bowl into a disposable cup, dipped his hands in, and began to rub them together vigorously.

“Hmm, not bad, no discomfort.”

After about thirty seconds, his palms felt hot. Examining them closely, the wine had been entirely absorbed; only a reddish flush and a growing warmth remained, with no other reaction.

Satisfied he wasn’t allergic, he repeated the process—this time rubbing the wine from his wrists to his elbows, shoulders, waist, hips, knees, and ankles, working it into each joint.

He paid special attention to his knees and ankles, which bore the brunt of his single-weight stance training. Strengthening bones was one thing, but promoting circulation and preventing lingering injuries from overtraining was even more crucial.

That was why he always stopped before reaching his limit. In martial arts, training is important, but so is recovery. Push too hard, and you’re bound to end up with chronic injuries.

After about fifteen minutes, most of the half-bowl of medicinal wine had been used up.

Then Du Ruo went to the open ground to begin his stance training.

He resumed the single-weight San Ti Shi. Around forty seconds in, he noticed something different—this time, heat rose from his feet first, instead of the usual muscle soreness and joint weakness.

At the one-minute mark, the heat in his lower body intensified, especially in his supporting left foot, which began to burn and tingle with numbness.

By one minute and ten seconds, the heat began to ebb. His body started to shake, sensation in his left leg dulled—not from adaptation, but because the numbness was intensifying, threatening to overwhelm feeling altogether.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he persisted, trembling.

Such shaking was beneficial for redirecting energy. Before, Du Ruo had been cautious, worried about injury from overtraining, and hadn’t dared push this long. Now, with the medicinal wine, he hoped to sustain the trembling for even longer.

He finally counted to one minute and thirty-five seconds in his mind before the familiar ache, numbness, and itch returned, and he stood up, ending the session.

“The medicinal wine really works—my stance lasted twenty seconds longer this time.”

He flexed his limbs, mood soaring. While the effect lasted, he switched legs and kept practicing.

After twenty minutes of training, he noticed a change in his stats panel:

Attribute Points: 0.01
Skill: Xingyi Boxing LV0 (31/100)

“That effective? I used to need thirty minutes for a point of attribute and experience, but now it’s only twenty.”

His eyes shone, and he couldn’t suppress his smile.

He didn’t keep up the stance work—such intense training, even with the medicinal wine, couldn’t be sustained too long.

Instead, he began practicing the Five Elements Fist, alternating with stance training to let his body relax and recover.

To his delight, the medicinal wine seemed to act like a buff, speeding up his progress in the Five Elements Fist as well. Twenty minutes of practice yielded another point of experience and attribute.

Three hours of practice flew by. When finished, Du Ruo sat down again and rubbed the remaining medicinal wine into his joints as before.

At the same time, he opened his attribute panel to review the morning’s results.