The alluring female Zhuge: forced to be a concubine

Chapter 388

"Do you remember? After five years of absence, our Huazhu Town has ushered in another challenger. His name is Zhuo Fu. If he can break through and win today, he will be a well-deserved Jiuxian. From now on, The formula of the ninety-nine 81 jars of fine wine in this wine forest will also be announced by Master Pan Xin. From now on, the brewing of this fine wine will become the secret recipe of our family in Huazhu Town. In this way, everyone hopes Don't you want Mr. Zhuo to break the wine formation?"

"Break the formation, break the formation, break the formation..."

Under Hua Zhu'an's instigation, the villagers said the word "breaking the formation" in unison, which also pushed the enthusiasm for breaking the formation in Jiulin to its peak.

Zhuo Zhifu couldn't help admiring Hua Zhu'an's thoughts, and looking at the calm expression of the old drunkard Pan Xin, she knew that things might not be as simple as they appeared on the surface.

It stands to reason that once the exclusive brewing formula is leaked, it will no longer be able to take advantage of this exclusive business. Even so, the old alcoholic Pan Xin is more than anyone else and hopes that someone can break the formation.And Hua Zhuan's hesitant expression before, still lingering in her mind.

It was really because of the contradictory behavior of the two that Zhuo Zhifu had to wonder whether the old alcoholic Pan Xin set up the wine formation.

"Quiet! Before breaking the formation, let Mr. Zhuo taste the honey-brewed bamboo wine from our Huazhu Town." Hua Zhuan changed the subject, stretched out his finger and shouted not far away: "Please Baijiatan."

As Hua Zhuan's words fell, a giant cart with a black cloth wrapped in a two-foot-high jar was slowly driving towards the bamboo building.

The villagers surrounding the bamboo building stepped aside one after another, but they still protected their wine in their hands, and retreated until they gave way to an empty space with a diameter of [-] meters.

After the jars were in place, the old drunk who had been drinking the fine wine in the wine gourd slowly put away the wine gourd, walked to the edge of the field step by step, landed on the wheel of the cart, and stood firmly.

After rubbing his hands, he put his hands on the wine jar. No, to be precise, this can no longer be called a wine jar, but a wine jar. After all, the shape of this wine jar is more like a jar.

(End of this chapter)