My Apocalypse System Arrives 10 Years Early
Chapter 107 - 100: Good Dog, You Actually Lured Back a Fox Spirit?
Making a wine gourd was much more difficult than making a gourd ladle. Li Xiang had already researched the process extensively online, so with a good understanding of the steps involved, he got to work.
He started with the first gourd as a practice run. It wouldn’t matter even if he failed with all three; once his own gourds were grown, he would have plenty more to work with.
He picked up the smallest of the three, but even it was over thirty centimeters tall.
These three were the most aesthetically pleasing of the eight gourds. Wine gourds have high standards for their overall "form." They aren’t just for holding wine; they must also have an artistic quality. If one was misshapen and ugly, the finished product would be hideous.
The requirements for a gourd ladle were much lower. As long as it was reasonably round with a large enough belly, it didn’t matter if the top bulb was smaller than the bottom one.
But for a wine gourd, there were strict requirements for the roundness and proportions of the upper and lower bulbs. It had to be the kind that was instantly pleasing to the eye.
He measured the proper spot for the opening with a ruler, marked a line with a felt-tip pen, and then used a saw to cut off the top section of the gourd. Afterward, he smoothed the cut with a file.
This gourd had a beautiful, well-proportioned neck, so Li Xiang opted for a Japanese-style opening, a common method he found online. However, tracing it back to its roots, this technique was actually passed down from our own ancestors to the Japanese.
He then drilled a round hole, about eight millimeters in diameter, through the stem.
The next step was to scoop out the seeds.
This was different from making a gourd ladle. To make a ladle, the gourd was sawed completely in half, which made scooping out the insides much easier. It was simple to scrape clean, and you could see what you were doing.
A wine gourd, however, remains whole with only a small opening at the top, which made the process much more laborious.
Many vendors who sell wine gourds don’t bother to do this part properly since they’re just selling them to others. It’s too time-consuming and labor-intensive. As a result, when the buyer gets it home and starts using it, they might be drinking when stringy bits of pulp float out, completely ruining the experience.
But Li Xiang was making this for himself, so he strove for perfection in this step.
He bent a long piece of wire back and forth to fashion a simple metal scoop. With it, he pulled out the seeds and most of the inner pulp. He set the seeds aside to be planted later.
Next, he dropped the gourd into cold water to soak for about ten minutes. Then he moved it to a pot of boiling water, holding it down to keep it submerged as it cooked.
He kept it there until the gourd could sink to the bottom on its own. At that point, it was thoroughly saturated.
But the process wasn’t over. He put the lid on the pot and continued to boil it vigorously on high heat for another twenty minutes. Then, he let it sit and cool down completely with the lid on, leaving it to steep overnight.
The next day, he added more water to the pot and boiled it vigorously on high heat for about half an hour before once again letting it cool down completely.
The reason for this long, troublesome boiling process was to ensure the gourd’s longevity and his own health. First, boiling it thoroughly made it possible to completely clean out the inner pulp. Second, a fully boiled gourd would impart a pleasant flavor, like water infused with red dates, whereas an under-boiled one would turn water sour and give it an off taste.
Third, a thoroughly boiled gourd becomes much denser. If an under-boiled gourd is like thick kraft paper, then a fully boiled one is like glass—a nearly fundamental change in its quality.
Before boiling, the raw gourd was a yellowish-white. But after Li Xiang repeatedly boiled it over high heat, it not only became harder, but its color transformed into a beautiful purplish-red with a brilliant luster.
Li Xiang had always assumed this legendary purplish-gold color came from lacquer, a special oil, or by "staining" the gourd through boiling and soaking it in strong black tea or herbal infusions. He never imagined that simply boiling it could produce such a color, rich with an antique feel.
The gourd ladle he had at home was made from a single-bulb gourd. After being boiled and dried, it had turned a bright yellow, which darkened with age. The difference was likely due to the variety of gourd.
’Could this gourd variety be truly extraordinary? A natural Purple Gold Gourd?’ The thought occurred to Li Xiang.
The gourd ladle from yesterday hadn’t been boiled for nearly as long, nor had he let it steep overnight before boiling it again. Its color had turned slightly reddish, but nothing like this deep, purplish-red that was even shimmering with a dark golden luster.
He went back to cleaning the inside of the boiled gourd, using the wire scoop for the upper bulb. For the lower bulb, he poured in a handful of screws and shook it vigorously. After about ten minutes, he emptied out the screws and the dislodged pulp, then rinsed the gourd with water. He repeated this process several times. Finally, Li Xiang shone a flashlight through the opening to inspect the inner walls and see if they were clean.
He had to admit, despite the limited viewing angle, he could tell it was scraped quite clean.
Next, he hung it upside down under the eaves of the covered walkway to air dry. Of course, it couldn’t be placed directly in the Sun, as it would easily crack or deform.
Making the stopper was another crucial step in crafting a wine gourd.
Li Xiang’s first choice was a wooden stopper. After measuring the opening, he went straight to work on a piece of Golden Rattan Wood. He was quite skilled, having honed his craft making hairpins, and in less than half an hour, he had carved a stopper with a perfect fit and gorgeous grain.
However, after the gourd finished air-drying, it still needed to be waterproofed. For this, Li Xiang planned to use raw lacquer.
Although raw lacquer can cause allergic reactions before it dries and takes a long time to air out afterward, it was an excellent, one-and-done solution.
Other materials, like glutinous rice paste or various chemical coatings, were not as safe or practical as raw lacquer.
Raw lacquer, also known as natural lacquer, earth lacquer, or national lacquer, is a natural resin coating harvested by tapping lacquer trees. Its use has a long and storied history, famed both in China and abroad. It is hailed as one of China’s "Three Great Treasures": lacquer tapped from trees, silk spun by silkworms, and honey made by bees.