“Yes, yes!”
His tone was cheerful, very much like a child asked if they had brought a toy.
“I bring it every time I go out!”
Morgan was silent for a moment, “…You really carry it with you.”
He had only asked casually, originally intending to make do with the alcohol he had brought himself.
Barbatos had already happily unscrewed the stopper of the wineskin and handed it over.
“This I brought is fruit wine made from Sunsettia, can it be used?”
“Yes.” Morgan took the wineskin, “Fruit wine can add flavor.”
He took out two crystal glasses and condensed two balls of Cryo elemental energy, kneading them in his palm.
Two round and adorable little bear ice sculptures fell into the two glasses respectively.
Morgan used a cocktail shaker condensed from ice crystals, opened the stopper of the SoulGlad, and poured the amber liquid into the shaker.
He then poured in a portion of Mint water.
Finally, he filled it with Sunsettia fruit wine.
The lid of the shaker was closed.
And then—
Barbatos blinked.
He saw Morgan take out a violin from who knows where.
The body of the violin glowed with a warm, woody luster, and the bow was long and elegant.
Morgan placed it on his shoulder and neck.
Barbatos: “…”
He began to play.
The melodious tune flowed within the carriage.
The tune was light and lively, with a certain indescribable sense of rhythm, like an impromptu performance in a tavern.
It sounded very good.
But Barbatos’s expression gradually became confused.
He looked at Morgan’s side profile as he played with abandon, and then at the unmoved shaker on the table.
—Did he forget something?
His gaze shifted back and forth between Morgan and the shaker.
Shouldn’t it be shaken?
A shaker is supposed to be shaken, right?
Even if not shaken, at least pour the drink?
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
Thus, the Lord Anemo Archon could only sit honestly on the cushion.
Resting his chin on his hand, he watched eagerly.
Wait then, perhaps this is a tradition for fairies before mixing drinks?
He thought.
Maybe the better the performance, the better the drink tastes?
He was a patient drinker and could afford to wait.
Morgan was indeed “mixing a drink,” but what he was mixing was not the liquid, but the “concept.”
[Tuning].
Don’t talk about using a sledgehammer to crack a nut; one had to show off in front of future friends and colleagues.
Morgan was playing the cocktail-mixing tune from the Dreamjolt Hostelry; it was a song he learned when he was still on the Astral Express, during the time when Stelle and Caelus were working part-time in Penacony.
That raccoon sibling pair were bartenders at the Dreamjolt Hostelry and insisted on dragging him to taste their craft.
Morgan couldn’t mix drinks, but he was good at [Tuning].
Reducing the sweetness of the SoulGlad, enhancing the mouthfeel of the carbonated bubbles, and strengthening the flavor of the Sunsettia.
Adjusting the alcohol concentration—considering it was for Barbatos, it could be a little higher.
Adding the feeling of “wind,” light, flowing, and the texture of freedom.
Enhancing the cooling sensation of the Mint, allowing for an aftertaste in the finish—
Done.
The violin music ended, and he put down the bow, just like a bartender putting down their stirring rod.
Morgan snapped his fingers, and the lid of the shaker popped open automatically.
The amber liquid flowed out and fell into the two glasses.
When the liquid level was flush with the neck of the little bear ice sculpture, the flow of wine stopped just right.
Barbatos’s expression changed from “waiting” to “wow.”
Morgan raised his hand, condensing two decorative ice crystal snowflakes, embedding them on the left side of the glass rim.
He then condensed a layer of fine frost, covering the surface of the liquid, like a miniature snowfall.
“Sweet Icefield.”
He pushed one of the glasses in front of Barbatos.
“Please.”
Barbatos lowered his head, looking at the drink before him.
The little bear ice sculpture was soaking in the amber liquid, its round body faintly glowing.
The surface of the wine was covered with a thin layer of snow, and the fine frost slowly drifted with a faint cold mist at room temperature.
The two snowflake decorations on the rim refracted tiny specks of light.
The whole drink was sparkling with a glittering effect.
As expected of the creation of the Archon of Literature and Art, even a drink had an artistic cuteness.
Barbatos picked up the glass and smelled it first.
The sweet fragrance of Sunsettia, mixed with the unique aroma of Citrus, and the cooling sensation of Mint—as well as an indescribable feeling of lightness, as if standing in the wind.
He took a small sip.
The top note was the familiar taste of Sunsettia, but the texture was that of a sparkling wine; the bubbles were fine and lively, bursting gently on the tip of the tongue, bringing a pleasant tingling sensation.
The middle note brought up the sweetness, the aroma of orange, warm and full, yet not cloying.
The base note was the coolness of Mint, a chilly feeling spreading from the throat to the chest, and then diffusing to the limbs.
Like a refreshing breeze, blowing across the grasslands, over the hills, and through the heart.
Barbatos did not speak; he began to chug it.
He finished the cup in one go.
He put down the glass and gave Morgan a thumbs up.
As the noble Anemo Archon, he could naturally drink plenty of fine wines: the ceremonial wine of the Church, the vintage wine collected by the old aristocrats, and even the wine cellars that were one of the legacies of Decarabian.
Morgan sipped his own drink while crafting a light cone.
With a thought, the surface of the light cone displayed an image—a 4-star light cone—[Sweet Icefield]
[A sparkling wine mixed with unusual methods, with a cute appearance and rich taste.
Even Barbatos praised it endlessly!]
He pushed the light cone toward Barbatos, “If you want to savor the taste of this drink again, just hold the light cone and recall this memory.”
Barbatos took the light cone, looking at it over and over, his eyes filled with the joy of a child receiving a new toy.
“Wow—” He looked up, his emerald eyes sparkling.
“Thank you!”
The two Archons inside the carriage were chatting enthusiastically, while outside, the fairy guards looked at each other.
They could not hear the conversation inside the carriage, but they could see the carved carriage door tightly shut.
And their Majesty, along with that winged Archon, had been alone inside for a while.
A young fairy guard leaned closer to the elder one and asked in a low voice.
“That one…
is the Anemo Archon from Mondstadt, right?”
The elder one glanced at him without speaking.
“Is His Majesty discussing some major matter with the Anemo Archon?”
The elder one still didn’t speak.
“Should we be on alert?”
The elder one finally spoke, “Alert for what?”
The young one opened his mouth, “…I don’t know.”
The elder one withdrew his gaze, “Then don’t worry about it blindly.”