Ying Zheng coughed violently twice, but the pungent taste of the wine was slightly suppressed by the rich sweetness and seemed to gradually subside.
"What are you all standing there for?" the wicked man ordered the others. "Quickly pour it down their throats! This liquor is incredibly strong; who knows if it will burn their stomachs!"
Upon hearing this, the high-ranking official disregarded etiquette, rolled up his sleeves, and took the bowl of honey water to pour it down the throats of the unfortunate souls groaning or gagging on the ground: "Do you still dare to drink too much? This stuff can burn your mouths!"
So, the officials who were originally overjoyed at the prospect of drinking to their hearts' content were instead forced to drink honey water or other hangover remedies by having their heads pressed down. Cries, coughs, and the sound of heavy objects colliding filled the air, resembling a farcical "disaster."
After a long while, when everyone had finally sobered up a bit, the large barrel of "industrial alcohol" had been firmly nailed shut and covered with two layers of burlap. Only then did the wicked man breathe a sigh of relief.
He glanced around and saw that the craftsmen all looked terrified, afraid of being scolded. He also saw that Meng Can and the others were covered in sweat from exhaustion. So he simply waved his hand and said, "Alright, I don't blame you... But from now on, you must take good care of this thing and never let anyone drink it without permission!"
He gave Xiang Lihe a meaningful look. Xiang Lihe understood immediately: "I understand. From now on, it will be kept separate from the drinkable distilled spirits in the distillery, locked up, sealed, and strictly forbidden to outsiders!"
Hearing this, the wicked husband finally relaxed and remembered Ying Zheng. Looking up, he saw that Ying Zheng's face was still flushed, but his eyes were gradually regaining some clarity. Seeing the wicked husband approaching, he raised his hand slightly to indicate, "No... I'm fine."
"Alas, Your Majesty, you really are... This barrel of alcohol is not for everyday drinking; it's used for lighting lamps, disinfection, and making other things. It has an extremely high alcohol content, so how can it be drunk directly?"
The wicked husband sighed helplessly, "If you weren't still young, and if you hadn't had that sip of honey water, the consequences might have been unimaginable."
Ying Zheng coughed a few times, looking embarrassed. Although he was still a bit tipsy, he knew he had lost face.
He waved his hand, then simply grabbed the wicked husband's sleeve, his voice low and hoarse, "This... it was just curiosity after all. I heard from the craftsmen that this was your newly developed spirit, so I thought I'd give it a try. Who knew... cough..."
"Sigh! There's a limit to how much you can indulge in something new." The wicked man said, pointing to the tightly locked barrel. "That's not strong liquor, but 'extremely strong' alcohol. It's both poison and treasure. If you really want to drink it, you must dilute it in the right proportions first, otherwise something bad will definitely happen."
One sentence left Ying Zheng speechless.
After a long pause, he managed a wry smile: "It seems I am not suited to be your 'industrial alcohol' test subject... However, you said earlier that it can be used for lighting, disinfecting, and other purposes. What exactly are these purposes? Once I've recovered from this, you must explain them to me clearly."
Seeing that Ying Zheng was in a sorry state but his mind was mostly intact, the wicked man felt relieved and waved his hand, saying, "Alright... you should take a break. It will probably take a while for this lingering effect to dissipate."
Ying Zheng nodded with a bitter face, and the officials around him were all clutching their waists and rubbing their chests, coughing softly. Where was the enthusiasm they had shown when they first arrived?
Seeing the awkward atmosphere, Meng Ao, who had regained some composure, simply said, "Your Majesty, let us old bones go back and have a few bowls of hangover soup, then brew some medicine, and we can consult with the Grand Commandant properly tomorrow, shall we?"
Ying Zheng pondered for a moment, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, clearly still feeling a burning sensation within him. He nodded and said, "Hmm, that's fine... Let's go back to the palace first, and I'll report in detail tomorrow... no, when I feel better, during court."
Supported and helped, the group stumbled out of the workshop, no longer able to appreciate the bustling production scene. The wicked husband and Xianglihe watched them go until they saw Ying Zheng get into his carriage, followed by his officials, before they finally felt relieved.
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