I Regressed and Became Too Good at Brewing - Chapter 44

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 44. The Korean Traditional Liquor Festival (5)
The awards ceremony proceeded in order.
First came the Superior Awards for six categories, followed by the Grand Prize presentations.
Before the joyful screams from the takju division Grand Prize winner had even faded, the massive screen on the main stage flickered once more.
“Next, we present the awards for the yakju division. This year’s yakju division Grand Prize goes to… Congratulations! Echo: Autumn from Songhadan!”
“What? Us again?!”
Confusion and joy tangled together as they rose awkwardly to their feet.
Murmurs rippled through the Exhibition Hall.
It was only natural—they’d already won a Superior Award, and now they were taking another Grand Prize with a different liquor.
Yet glancing around, the crowd’s reaction wasn’t entirely negative.
“Well, it’s Songhadan, after all.”
“I tasted it earlier—they deserve it.”
“Hmm… so that’s not the Best Award… personally, I thought that one was the best…”
From what I could hear, no one seemed to harbor ill will toward Echo: Autumn’s victory.
We returned to the stage once more and accepted another Award Plaque.
An Award Plaque in each hand.
When I came back to where Se-jun was waiting, he immediately began teasing me.
“Two awards—aren’t those heavy?”
“They’re pretty heavy. Want to carry one for me?”
“Ha. I was hoping you’d say that. Wow. So this is what an award feels like. I think this is the first one since I wrote a book report and got an award in elementary school?”
“And you’re already pulling off a Double Crown.”
At this point, we’d already achieved more than enough to be satisfied.
No—more than that.
If we jumped to our feet and shouted, everyone would understand completely.
Yet even this wasn’t the end…
“We now present the Best Award for the yakju division at the 2XXX Korean Traditional Liquor Festival. With unanimous approval from our entire Judge Panel, receiving the highest honor for ‘perfectly expanding the horizons of Korean traditional aged yakju’—Congratulations. Dalboard from Songhadan!”
“Waaahhh!”
“No way! Songhadan just won the Triple Crown!”
The entire Exhibition Hall erupted.
For a single brewery to sweep the Superior Award, Grand Prize, and the ultimate honor of Best Award in a single year was an unprecedented record in the festival’s history.
If you considered only the taste and aroma of Dalboard, such a result was almost inevitable.
But that was merely my hope and my judgment.
Who could have imagined this would actually happen?
“Hey, Yeon-woo… we’re really crazy, aren’t we? Superior Award, Grand Prize, and now Best Award with Dalboard. Is this really happening? This isn’t a dream, right?”
“Judging by the fact that my hands aren’t big enough to hold all three plaques, I’m pretty sure it’s not a dream?”
While Se-jun and I exchanged words, holding three Award Plaques, camera flashes and the gazes of buyers poured toward us from all sides.
They were probably trying to establish some kind of connection while the opportunity lasted.
“Hey. Triple Crown. This is definitely going to make the news.”
“It has to. Don’t you see Yun-sung over there just dying to interview us?”
“Ah.”
Choi Yun-sung, the journalist from Korea Daily News who had already promised to interview us after the ceremony, had been intently typing away on something in the back.
A radiant smile spread across his face as he did.
“You seem to be in quite a good mood.”
“Wouldn’t you be? The first brewery ever to achieve the Triple Crown?”
“But Yeon-woo, isn’t there… still one more thing left over there?”
Se-jun swallowed hard and pointed his finger at the center of the screen.
There, alongside the golden national emblem, the words [Presidential Award] were inscribed in bold letters.
“The Presidential Award… It’s an honor given to only one recipient, selected from among the six liquors that won Best Award in each division, after the Judge Panel conducts one final rigorous evaluation.”
Se-jun’s voice trembled with excitement.
“Hey, Yeon-woo. What happens if we win that too?”
“What happens, you ask…”
First, if we receive the Presidential Award here, we’d absolutely be placed on the candidate list as an official Cheong Wa Dae state banquet liquor, or as a toast wine for state dinners.
Government-sponsored overseas expos and support for Korean cuisine globalization projects would simply fall into our lap.
And on top of that, Dalboard would be stocked in the prime spots of traditional liquor sections in every major department store and supermarket across the nation. Our brand value would skyrocket tenfold, a hundredfold.
Se-jun clenched his fist and looked at me urgently.
“Aren’t you tempted?”
“Of course I am.”
Who wouldn’t want to receive such magical benefits?
At that moment, Se-jun laughed heartily and shook off his tension.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. Now we come to the final moment, the grand finale of the 2XXX Korean Traditional Liquor Festival.”
The announcer’s voice settled heavily across the entire Exhibition Hall.
Every light on stage flickered out at once, leaving only a single spotlight to illuminate the golden national emblem at the center of the screen.
Thousands of visitors gathered in the hall, brewery representatives from across the country, buyers, and journalists—all held their breath.
The tension was absolute, so complete that you could hear a pin drop on the floor.
“This year’s Presidential Award is presented not merely for technical excellence, but for a work in which the history and future of Korean traditional liquor, together with the sublime craftsmanship of the brewer, have been elevated into a single bottle of art. The moment the Judge Panel tasted this spirit, they spoke with one voice: they had witnessed a great new epoch in Korean traditional liquor.”
The presenter walked forward to the podium.
The golden envelope in his hand caught the spotlight and gleamed.
Even the faint sound of the envelope opening was amplified through the microphone, spreading solemnly to every corner of the hall.
“We now announce the honored recipient of the Presidential Award at the 2XXX Korean Traditional Liquor Festival!”
The presenter drew the card from the envelope.
The moment his eyes read it, a flicker of wonder crossed his face.
He took a deep breath toward the microphone, then finally proclaimed the name with all his strength.
“Congratulations! The 2XXX Korean Traditional Liquor Festival Presidential Award goes to Songhadan’s Dalboard!”
Boom!
The instant the name was announced, thousands of golden confetti cannons mounted in the ceiling burst forth in explosion.
“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”
“Songhadan! Dalboard!”
The Exhibition Hall erupted entirely.
Nearly screams of joy and thunderous applause shook the entire venue, swallowing it whole.
Nothing like this had ever happened in the history of the festival.
Beyond the Superior Award, the Grand Prize, and the Best Award—Songhadan had claimed the highest throne, granted to only one spirit that year: the Presidential Award.
The Quadruple Crown was being made—an eternal myth that would never be broken, not now, not ever.
“Yeon-woo!”
Se-jun had already lost himself, grasping my collar as he sobbed like a burnt-out bulb.
Professor Jung Man-hu and the other judges offered standing ovations to Songhadan’s seating area, their eyes warm with admiration and respect.
Camera flashes from the journalists enveloped the surroundings like a massive lightning storm, turning everything white.
Golden confetti bursting from all directions cascaded brilliantly over my suit jacket and shoulders.
“Ha…”
I rose slowly from my seat.
The golden stage gleaming before my eyes was radiant beyond measure.
“I’m getting used to this view, it seems.”
The other participants laughed at my quip.
After smiling at them all, I began to speak.
Now, truly now, I felt I could say this.
“Songhadan was a small brewery run by my grandfather.”
A space where childhood memories and all the things I cherished were gathered together.
Which made it all the more precious to me.
What my grandfather had left me was not merely a brewery called Songhadan, but my dreams and my future.
“That is why I am deeply grateful that this spirit has received your affection. I’m certain my grandfather, who has spent years restoring Nokpa-ju, is watching from heaven with joy in his heart.”
Grandfather.
At last, after that long journey, your grandson had become a grandson you could be proud of.
Are you watching over me?
“I will strive further and work harder to make Songhadan a brewery that continues to grow and develop. Thank you.”
Clap, clap, clap.
Applause beginning softly.
And then…
Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!
It took only moments for it to become a roar of applause.
* * *
“The whole world is talking about Songhadan.”
“What are you suddenly going on about?”
“What do you mean, what.”
Se-jun, who had been browsing the internet in the office for some time, spun his chair around and answered while looking at me.
“Because literally the whole world is about Songhadan.”
A week had passed since the festival ended.
The story of Songhadan still showed no signs of fading.
“Want to see?”
When Se-jun turned the monitor toward me, headlines from Korea’s leading news outlets came into view.
[Junggan Daily] ‘The Miracle of the Quadruple Crown’—Songhadan’s Dalboard Wins Presidential Award at Korean Traditional Liquor Festival!
[Korea Daily News] A Century of Integrity Stands Tall… Genius Brewer Yeon-woo of Songhadan Opens a New Era for Traditional Liquor.
[Cultural View] Capturing the evening glow in a glass—the charm of Hong-ya, which Professor Jung Man-hu praised extravagantly.
Was that all?
Across various social media platforms, stories about Songhadan were pouring in by the day.
Yesterday, before bed, he’d stumbled across a video with a title like this while scrolling through YouTube.
“Seriously? ‘K-Traditional Liquor That Made Scotland’s Master Distiller Obsessed and a Japanese Critic Gasp: There’s Such a Drink in Korea! I Simply Cannot Believe It!’ What on earth is this title?”
“You saw that one too?”
Of course that nationalistic video had ended up in Se-jun’s algorithm.
If it had stopped there, he could have just laughed it off happily.
But there was a reason he couldn’t.
Brrrring!
“Yes! This is Songhadan! No, I mean—we’re currently out of stock! I’m so sorry!”
“Even if you visit, there’s nothing we can offer you. There are already far too many reservations.”
“I’m terribly sorry…….”
The phone line was practically ablaze with incoming orders and interview requests.
There had even been requests from broadcast networks asking him to appear as a guest.
Of course, he’d judged it wasn’t the right time and declined, but with hundreds of calls like this pouring in daily, it had become nearly impossible to properly brew the liquor.
“Phew. Success is exhausting work.”
<But friend, is this not a blessing nonetheless?>
<Tte-ing. I’m already stuffed from eating my fill! Back in my day, let me tell you. Hm?>
<Mok-tong. You are a maturation cellar, are you not……. Come to think of it, you’re not nearly as old as one might have supposed…….>
Listening to the dokkaebi chatter, he decided this wouldn’t do and leaped to his feet.
He felt the need to step away from the chaos of daily life and find some peace.
“Where are you going?”
“Just need to check on the Fermentation Chamber for a bit.”
“Sure. Got it. Then I should swing by the Maturation Cellar too once I finish this up.”
Leaving the bustling office behind, he made his way to the splendidly newly constructed Fermentation Chamber.
The soft scent of pine-processed timber and the earthy aroma of clay walls settled gently in the cool, weighty air that drifted through the space.
“This is perfect.”
The Fermentation Chamber’s temperature was normally maintained between fifteen and eighteen degrees Celsius year-round.
Had he entered during summer, the chill would have felt quite sharp.
Though the design harmonized with the surrounding buildings, the interior stood impressively lined with gleaming two-meter-high Fermentation Tanks arranged in grand rows.
Of course, that wasn’t all there was.
“Hong-ya relies primarily on Onggi fermentation.”
Arrayed along one side were Onggi vessels that Grandfather Gyeong-sik had newly crafted.
Over fifty Onggi jars stood in neat columns and rows—truly a magnificent sight.
To settle his mind, he closed his eyes and focused on the sounds drifting through the space.
The first sounds to reach him were the hum of the air-conditioning unit regulating the Fermentation Chamber’s temperature and the motor whir of the chilling pipes.
Weaving through that…….
Tick, tick-tick.
Glug-glug.
The vibrant sounds of living Yeast doing its work.
For brewers crafting liquor, it was the very music of inner peace.
“So peaceful…….”
<I too find it so, my lord.>
In an instant, an unfamiliar voice broke the silence.
At the same moment, he sensed a presence behind the massive Onggi vessel.
Opening his eyes and stepping cautiously toward the back, he saw…….
<I greet you, Young Master Yeon-woo.>
A woman dressed in a jade-green jeogori and deep indigo skirt—as if she had stepped straight from a portrait of classical beauty.
Her luminous pale skin, crimson lips, and the ornate hairpin adorning her hair were far from ordinary.
<My name is Hyo-gi, of the Yeast. Having awakened from long slumber, I shall henceforth serve as your humble attendant.>
The cultivated voice belonged to a new dokkaebi.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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