Tony gave the one-eyed man a rundown on the history and prestige of Moutai, explaining that it was the highest-grade state banquet liquor in the East. Even visiting dignitaries would be served this wine.
The one-eyed man and Hill both found it impressive and intriguing, eager to try this mysterious liquor from the far side of the world.
Nova He glanced at Tony in mild surprise and asked,
"You enjoy this Eastern liquor too? It's incredibly strong. Are you sure you're used to it?"
Hearing Nova He's considerate concern, Tony patted him on the shoulder with a smile.
"Absolutely no problem. Just bring it over."
Nova He nodded and left without another word.
Wherever you are, the customer is always king. In the restaurant business especially, if you anger a guest and word spreads, your reputation is finished.
Soon, a porcelain bottle was brought out. The label read: "Guizhou Moutai." Its design was plain and understated, a sharp contrast to the flashy bottles of foreign liquor.
Tony rose and poured a glass each for the one-eyed man and Hill, using standard 125ml cups, then filled a glass for himself as well.
Baijiu, in some ways, is similar to vodka, but its alcohol content is much higher. Most vodka sits at about 40%—crisp and relatively smooth. Of course, there's also the infamous "water of life," Poland's 96% vodka, but that's used for cocktails, not for drinking straight.
Without hesitation, Tony lifted his glass and said with a grin,
"As the saying goes, with true friends even a thousand cups aren't enough, but with strangers even half a word is too much. Sharing this meal and drink with Director Fury and Miss Hill today makes me very happy. Let's drink."
He tipped back half his glass in one go. The instant the Moutai hit his mouth, a sharp, fiery burn surged straight to his head. He grabbed a bottle of mineral water and gulped it down just to swallow.
Even with his body strengthened, the sheer force of baijiu couldn't be underestimated.
The one-eyed man and Hill, seeing Tony's boldness, felt it would be rude to refuse. Besides, they'd never tried this liquor before. Following his lead, they each downed their half-glass.
Tony watched their reactions closely. The one-eyed man's dark face grew even darker. His skin seemed to take on an even deeper shade, but unwilling to lose face—after all, men bleed, they don't cry—he forced the fiery liquor down. His throat felt as if it had swallowed flames, his chest ablaze, his weathered features flushing red.
Tony ignored him. That grim, blackened face wasn't exactly pleasant to look at.
Hill, however, was another matter. The moment the liquor touched her lips, tears welled up from the burn.
"Pff—"
She sprayed the liquor straight onto Tony's face.
Mortified, Hill stood immediately, ignoring the sting in her mouth, and began dabbing at his clothes with a napkin.
Tony hadn't expected her to actually spit it out and cursed his bad luck inwardly. His clothes were ruined, reeking of alcohol. He had really shot himself in the foot.
Still, it wasn't entirely a loss. Hill's flustered attentiveness was unexpectedly enjoyable. His sharp eyes also caught something unusual: the ever-composed ice queen's ears had turned crimson, the delicate capillaries visible beneath her pale skin.
Tony smiled faintly. Beneath her frosty shell, this ice beauty clearly had a warm heart.
Their small exchange didn't escape Fury's sharp gaze, but he didn't expose it. Instead, he barked,
"Tony, what kind of wine is this? This isn't liquor—it's poison! Not just poison, but undrinkable poison. You're trying to embarrass us!"
Tony quickly cried out his innocence and pulled out his phone to check online. To his surprise, Moutai was selling for as much as $500 a bottle in the U.S., and even then it was hard to find.
When Fury saw the price, he clicked his tongue. His official salary was only $9,000 a month. With that income, there was no way he'd spend so much on a single bottle of alcohol. Of course, as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., his true resources were far greater, but expenses put on the books had to withstand scrutiny. If anyone caught him misusing public funds, even he would be in trouble.
Regardless, both Fury and Hill refused to drink more. Seeing this, Tony poured his half-finished glass back into the bottle. After all, it was worth hundreds, and he wasn't about to waste it.
After this fiasco, neither Fury nor Hill had much appetite left. They excused themselves in a hurry.
Before leaving, Hill apologized once more. Tony waved it off casually.
"It was just an accident. Besides, this shirt isn't that expensive, only $20,000. Hardly worth mentioning."
Hearing that the ordinary-looking shirt she had just ruined actually cost $20,000, Hill's face went pale. She had already promised to compensate him with a new one.
Seeing her expression, Tony chuckled.
"How about this? I've invited you out several times but never succeeded. I heard there's a barbecue spot in Brooklyn that's supposed to be great. Why don't we go together sometime?"
Hill agreed, leaving the time up to him, treating it as a way to make amends.
By the time the three of them wrapped up their meal, it was already past three in the afternoon.
(End of Chapter)
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