I Regressed and Became Too Good at Brewing - Chapter 57

Each goblin, in their own way, expressed agreement with my decision.
But Hyo-gi smoothed her neatly braided hair to one side and fixed me with a question.

“What he loves most. And what I do best.”

“Yes.”
I couldn’t think of any other way.
It was all I could do, and it was what I did best.
Besides…….
“You all heard what Yun Ju-ho said earlier, didn’t you?”
“I heard it clear as day with both ears. He took a liking to alcohol because of his wife, who passed first.”
Mok-tong nodded, arms crossed.
When I’d been on the phone with Yun Ju-ho earlier, the three goblins had scurried out to listen along, so they’d know the details.
‘From the start, that hobby of his—traditional Korean alcohol—he only picked it up because of his wife.’
‘Because of his wife? What do you mean?’
‘Before he met her, he was a workaholic of the highest order.’
They say temperament is something you can’t escape.
Before meeting his wife, Han Gyeong-su had worked like a machine, according to what Yun Ju-ho had told me.
He’d wake at six in the morning and sleep at three in the morning sharp—so strict that he’d begrudge even the time spent eating, always having the same meal and wearing identical suits day after day.
‘That’s possible?’
‘I heard it straight from him, so it must be true. But then he met his wife.’
Even as their relationship developed, Han Gyeong-su simply added dates with his wife to his schedule—his life otherwise remained unchanged.
But gradually, he began enjoying traditional Korean alcohol, a hobby of hers, and before long, Han Gyeong-su himself became deeply immersed in that world.
‘It was rather wise, when you think about it. Alcohol isn’t good for your health, of course, but at least drinking keeps you from working, doesn’t it?’
‘You don’t mean…’
‘Exactly. His health suffered from overwork far more than it ever would from alcohol. This way, the drinking at least made him take care of his body.’
Besides, to keep enjoying traditional Korean alcohol with his wife, he’d have had to maintain his health anyway.
Han Gyeong-su, who could have collapsed from exhaustion at any moment, found his only hobby through his wife.
He never imagined it would become his sole way to cherish her memory.
“I’m going to brew something good.”
“So you’re trying to move his heart with that, are you? That’s true friendship right there.”
“Any self-respecting drinker should have that much nerve! Tsk, tsk!”
I’d been planning to recruit Han Gyeong-su to help brew Samhaejoo, following Se-jun’s advice.
But now, to recruit Han Gyeong-su, I’d have to brew it again.
If Se-jun heard this, he’d probably cry out, ‘Then we’re doubling our work right now!’
But if good alcohol came out of it, and I could help one person find their way back to life, wasn’t it worth it?
“Then making good alcohol isn’t merely a matter of business. The human heart is born from memory and nostalgia, after all.”
“The same thought Hyo-gi would have. Wouldn’t it be better to find out what sort of alcohol his wife loved?”
“Yes. I think I need to start with that.”
“Do you have a way?”
“Yes. Actually, I already know.”
In my past life, I’d read Han Gyeong-su’s book, “On Korea’s Traditional Spirits,” dozens, hundreds of times over.
It was known as the bible and essential reading for lovers of traditional Korean alcohol—there’s no way I wouldn’t have read it while running Songhada.
I’d read it as if absorbing every word written on those pages.
“It was written in there.”
A short passage, but the one that had burned most vividly in my mind.
[A spirit rich with many memories.
The taste still lingers on my tongue as if recently savored.
From it blooms.
Everything from the moment of greatest happiness.]
I hadn’t understood it then, but it must surely be a passage about his memories with his wife.
And these sentences appeared precisely in one section describing a single type of alcohol.
“Samhaejoo.”
“Hm? Samhaejoo?”
“Yes. It’s accurate. My interest in Samhaejoo began from reading that, actually.”
A spirit capable of awakening beautiful memories in a person through taste alone.
Captivated by those words, in my past life I’d poured time into brewing Samhaejoo.
Though admittedly, the results weren’t particularly good.
It’s that difficult a spirit to make.
“How fitting. It was the very spirit you’d intended to brew from the start.”
“It was, wasn’t it?”
Moved by Han Gyeong-su’s words, I still remembered Samhaejoo even after my return.
And Han Gyeong-su wanting to experience those memories again.
Perhaps this was no coincidence.
It might have been inevitable fate.
“Then let’s make it right now!”
“All right. I have all the materials on hand anyway.”
Once the decision was made, it was time to act.
Fortunately, I already knew how to make Samhaejoo.
The memory remained from my past life, when I’d traveled to distilleries across the country for this very purpose.
Moreover, today itself was also the first Pig Day, a fundamental requirement for Samhaejoo.
“First, let’s make the base starter.”
I began by making gumeong-tteok.
Pouring boiling water gradually into rice flour to create a half-cooked dough, then shaping it into donut-like gumeong-tteok and boiling it in water.
Next, I crushed the boiled gumeong-tteok cleanly without lumps, cooled it, added nuruk and water, kneaded it well, and placed it in an onggi.
“Fermentation proceeds at around 5-10 degrees until the next Pig Day….”
To brew Samhaejoo, three Pig Days must pass.
From one Pig Day to the next takes thirty-six days.
It truly was a process demanding vast time and devotion.
But with Mok-tong and Hyo-gi’s abilities, we could cut that period in half.

“Yes, I hear them clearly.”
Hyo-gi’s help had been invaluable.
By listening to the yeast cells as they fermented, we could check their condition in real time.
The voices I heard now were….
– Delicious! Really delicious!
– It’s cold, but… that’s fine! It’s so delicious!
– Eat slowly!
The yeasts steadily fermented even in an environment colder than the average temperature.
That’s how we were able to brew the first supplementary fermentation.
The key to this stage was expanding the yeast population.
After steaming glutinous rice and cooling it thoroughly, we mixed it with water and base starter, then initiated fermentation again.
“And next….”
We made the second supplementary fermentation identical to the first.
Then we simply waited for fermentation to complete….
“And it’s finished.”
The Samhaejoo brewed using the Samyangju method was complete.
Because the period was shortened, we didn’t strictly observe three Pig Days as the name suggested, but the flavor transcended that limitation—it was exquisite.
Hyo-gi’s Fermentation Ability and Mok-tong’s Aging Ability made it inevitable.
Moreover, the onggi we used was the breathing onggi that Gyeong-sik had crafted with the artisan’s spirit.

Song-ha himself nodded in satisfaction.
I could even see it with my own eyes.
The earthy, clean fragrance of the low-temperature-refined nuruk danced about in all directions.
But that wasn’t all.
Hand in hand with the aromas of ripe melon and pear, and green grapes, it radiated a cold, refreshing essence like a snow field in the depths of winter.
Yet the taste itself wasn’t particularly sweet.
Dry and clean, it carried the weighty impact of eighteen degrees—the extreme alcohol content achievable in fermented spirits.
I was certain: finding a spirit of this caliber anywhere else would be difficult.
So I could predict it.
“This will do.”