The winemaking process is ridiculously simple: crush the grapes, start fermentation, then press, filter, send to oak barrels for aging, and finally, bottle – and the product is ready for sale.
Strategically, Li Qingwu decided that his wine should be top-class – intended for the Upper Hive lords, which means aging must last at least three months.
However, the grape harvest from the rebels is still unstable, so the ten workers hired by Li Qingwu were temporary. He gave each of them a hundred credits – for helping with the work.
The work, however, was not difficult: the winery's equipment turned out to be almost fully automated, everything was thought out to the smallest detail.
Three and a half tons of grapes were processed in less than half a day, after which the must was sent to ferment in steel containers.
Li Qingwu paid the workers, and they went home. In seven days, when fermentation was complete, they were supposed to return.
All week, Li Qingwu kept returning to Reno's words – about giving the liquor added value.
The Upper Hive market is huge, aristocrats drink wine like water. Such a golden vein will surely attract competitors.
To get ahead, he needed to come up with something truly daring.
Now Li Qingwu was lying on a bunk on the first level of the winery, looking at a bottle of red wine in front of him.
It was one of the popular Upper Hive brands – "Red Lady."
The label depicted a woman in a long dress crushing grapes with her bare feet.
It was said that the Red Lady herself was a baroness who inherited her noble title after her husband's death.
Her wine was sold under the slogan: made from grapes personally crushed by her feet.
And this was about an aristocrat! Even if just a baroness, but still a noble widow.
And here – wine, which, it was claimed, was crushed by the feet of a widowed aristocrat – caused a surge of hormones in a certain audience; it's no wonder that "Red Lady" sold like hotcakes in the Upper Hive.
But this wine had problems.
Firstly, if sales are so high, then what, does the Red Lady do nothing all day but crush grapes? Seriously?
Aristocrats are not fools. There were rumors that under the guise of "Red Lady" wine, they were being sold a product squeezed by a crowd of sweaty men with dirty feet.
Secondly, the baroness is already nearing fifty!
Although the label still boasted a young maiden of twenty, there are no secrets in noble circles – everyone knows that in life, she has long since turned into a not-so-young lady.
And, would this auntie over fifty personally press grapes for you? Well, the aroma would turn out... excessively rich, so to speak; not for a weak stomach.
Analyzing this example, Li Qingwu decided to adopt the brand's strengths and eliminate its weaknesses.
A cunning inventor – he quickly found an idea.
Maiden feet pressing grapes would undoubtedly grab attention. Therefore, this image should be used. But not tied to a specific person, but transformed into an image of a whole group.
Firstly, because Li Qingwu did not have access to aristocratic women to invite them to the winery.
Secondly, one woman would age over time, and who would drink wine squeezed from under the feet of an old Matron smelling of sweat and vinegar?
Yes, the solution came by itself – the nuns of the Ecclesiarchy!
Firstly, he had access to them. Remember Sister Little Joel's Teresa? She's a nun.
And not only her: in the church, nuns get one day off per month. Why not have a "relaxation ritual" on this day – pressing grapes with bare feet?
Moreover, the contingent of nuns is constantly updated: the Ecclesiarchy recruits new ones annually. So the problem of trust is also solved – old ones leave, young ones come.
You, Red Lady, are alone – try to claim that all your wine is personally pressed by you! Wouldn't dare?
But I will dare! My wine is made from grapes crushed by the virgin feet of nuns. Just look how many there are – brand trust will skyrocket!
And, mind you, these are not some street girls or shy middle-class daughters.
These are pure, beautiful, impeccable servants of the God-Emperor. Even their excrement, as he joked to himself, shines with the sacred gold of His light. And wine, infused with the scent of sweat from the delicate feet of nuns, will surely become an elixir that heals and protects from Chaos corruption!
Li Qingwu, lying on his bunk, snorted with laughter – damn, he was a genius!
He got so excited that he couldn't sleep. Cursing, he pulled on his pants, grabbed his keys, and headed for the winery doors. He closed it behind him and jumped onto his repair buggy – course set for the Cathedral of the Ecclesiarchy.
Leaving the buggy on the roadside, he locked it and resolutely strode into the cathedral.
As usual: first a donation, then the prayer hall, find the right missionary there and hand over the money.
"Wait here, don't leave," said the missionary, taking the payment and disappearing behind a side door.
Li Qingwu sat by the wall, looking at the golden statue of the Emperor.
At that moment, in the spacious hall, several thousand people unanimously chanted praises to the glory of the God-Emperor: hymns, prayers, supplications poured out in a powerful sonic stream, reflecting off the dome.
Li Qingwu shrugged. The times are different, the place is the same – it's a sin not to add fuel to the fire of pious mood here.
He thumped his chest with his fist, cleared his throat, raised his head, and shouted:
"Great Terra is my homeland!"
The battle cry carries the radiance of victory!
Immortal glory of heroes is forged with iron and flame!
Humanity is eternal – in the infinite universe!
The Emperor's light illuminates the Himalayas!
I keep the Church of the Emperor in my heart!
I will never forget honor and faith!
Sacred Terra is my native home!
Iron will is my sworn watch!
On Earth and in boundless space – I am always a warrior of the God-Emperor!
Having finished, Li Qingwu cleared his throat, preparing to take a higher verse, but at that moment the door behind him swung open.
The same missionary came out, but now with a strange expression on his face. Nun Teresa followed him.
Li Qingwu was about to greet her when he suddenly tensed: something was wrong. Why had Teresa changed her attire?
Before, she wore a simple black and white robe, but now she was in a much richer dress – the fabric was adorned with golden threads.
She already looked cute, but in this exquisite outfit, she seemed like a real princess.
While he was racking his brain, another person appeared from behind her – the Archdeacon, the head of the local Ecclesiarchy cathedral.
He looked at Li Qingwu gently, with a smile.
"Sir, you are, it seems, Saint Teresa's family?"