I am the Crown Prince of France

Chapter 120: Loyalty to the King Is a Must!

After treating the grape mash, Joseph put the water used for brewing into another large wooden barrel, keeping it at 60 degrees.

Half an hour later, Joseph removed the grape mash from its warm bath, covered it, and began soaking the next batch of grapes.

For three to four hours, he and Emond worked tirelessly, treating all the brewing materials.

Joseph wiped the sweat from his brow and had Emond invite the eagerly awaiting vineyard owners into the room.

More than thirty nobles crowded into the brewing room, but when they saw the setup, they exchanged puzzled looks—water was still just water, and the grape mash looked the same as before.

One of the older vineyard owners cautiously asked Joseph, "Your Highness, it seems you haven't started brewing yet?"

Joseph nodded. "That's correct. Your brewers can begin now."

The old nobleman looked even more confused. "You mean, my people should do the brewing?"

"Exactly."

Disappointment spread across the faces of the gathered nobles. It seemed the "failure-reducing" and "quality-enhancing" techniques the Prince had mentioned were just a joke.

Joseph noticed their expressions and chuckled, pointing to the barrels in the room. "All the important steps have already been completed where you couldn't see. The brewing part is just the final touch; anyone can do it."

"Ah... alright, Your Highness," the elderly nobleman said, instructing his brewers to start the process with little enthusiasm.

Seeing the brewers at work, Joseph only reminded them to minimize contact with the materials and to use utensils that had been treated with high heat. Then, he gracefully exited the room.

The group of nobles escorted the Prince out to the main road in front of the Arsen Wine Cellar. Only after his carriage door closed did they straighten up and begin to discuss among themselves.

"Viscount Jours, do you think the Prince's techniques are genuine?"

"Well, the Prince wouldn't have come all the way to Bordeaux just to fool us, would he?"

"Let's hope it's real. My wine cellar hasn't made any money for years..."

"Same here..."

"Guess we'll just have to wait a few days to see the results."

Inside the carriage, Joseph leaned back against the soft seat, enjoying a rare moment of leisure. All he had to do now was wait for the wine to be ready, then reel in the results. There was nothing more he could do in the meantime.

This was the first time he'd taken a break since becoming the Prince.

Where should he go to relax? He thought for a moment and then turned to Emond. "Count Emond, Bordeaux should have some nice beaches, right?"

Emond thought for a moment and nodded. "Your Highness, if you want to enjoy the beach, I recommend Arcachon. It's a half-day's journey southwest of here."

"Great, let's go there!"

Joseph suddenly remembered the doctor, who was likely still at the governor's villa, and gave an order: "Let's go pick up Dr. Perna first."

"As you wish, Your Highness."

Not long after, Dr. Perna, dressed in a white men's long coat with her hair tied back and wearing a tricorn hat, joined them in the carriage. When she heard they were heading to Arcachon, she clasped her hands excitedly and exclaimed, "Oysters! My goodness, I love oysters! Thank you so much, Your Highness, thank you!"

Joseph blinked in surprise. "Oysters?"

Emond leaned in and explained quietly, "Your Highness, Arcachon has been famous for its oysters since Roman times."

Perna added enthusiastically, "The best oysters in all of France!" Her eyes sparkled with a fervor usually reserved for religious devotion.

Joseph chuckled. He hadn't expected the good doctor to be such a foodie.

The carriage set off again and, after a bumpy half-day journey, finally arrived at the town of Arcachon.

Standing by the sea, Joseph felt the cool ocean breeze on his face—this area had a temperate maritime climate, so even in winter, the sea breeze wasn't too cold. Gazing at the picturesque dunes in the distance and the golden sands stretching to the horizon, he felt a deep sense of peace and harmony with nature.

Perna, inhaling the salty sea air, smiled at Joseph. "Your Highness, this climate is very good for your pneumonia. Perhaps you should stay here a while."

Joseph sighed lightly. "Yes, if I could, I'd love to stay here forever."

Perna grinned. "But moving the Versailles Palace to Bordeaux would be quite a task."

After a bit more small talk, the doctor started glancing around, clearly looking for something.

Emond, smiling, whispered to her, "I've already arranged for the best oyster vendor to come. They'll be here shortly."

Perna blushed at having her intentions so easily guessed.

Soon, on the flat beach, the guards set up a tented area. A middle-aged man with rough, weathered skin, dressed in a black coat, directed a few workers to unload barrels from a cart.

Emond had a few servants bring out small, finely crafted tables, covered them with cloths, and set out utensils, snacks, and wine. Then he signaled to the oyster vendor to begin.

The middle-aged man deftly retrieved an oyster larger than his palm from a barrel, used a small knife to skillfully pry it open, and placed the creamy white oyster meat on a plate in front of Joseph. He then cut a lemon, squeezed the juice onto the oyster, and gestured invitingly for Joseph to taste it.

Raw? Joseph hesitated. Freshly harvested oysters were indeed a delicacy, but what if they caused a problem? Ever heard of mud worms? And what about those viruses...

Seeing Perna at the next table, her eyes gleaming as she eagerly reached for a fork, Joseph quickly stopped her. Clearing his throat, he said, "Ahem, today you're in for a treat. I know a way to prepare oysters that's both healthier and more delicious. Would you like to try it?"

"Huh?"

Joseph then instructed the oyster vendor to fetch a grill, garlic, and some spices, and gave him detailed instructions.

Half an hour later, on the iron grill, the oyster shells were filled with garlic paste and various spices. The oyster meat inside had turned a golden brown, sizzling as the juices bubbled. The rich aroma of the meat mixed with the scent of garlic filled the air, spreading over half a mile.

Joseph used a fork to lift a piece of the garlic-baked oyster meat, about the size of a walnut, and placed it in his mouth. He immediately closed his eyes in delight. No wonder Arcachon was known for the best oysters in all of France! The meat was plump, tender, juicy, and had a hint of sweetness! Combined with the spices and garlic, and roasted over a fire, it was as if the ocean's freshness and the fire's warmth fused together in his mouth, like a kiss from a beautiful, charming girl.

Ah—this was the taste!

Next to him, Perna had completely forgotten all manners, shoveling the garlic-baked oysters into her mouth, even as tears streamed down her face from the heat, she couldn't bring herself to stop.

And so, Joseph spent the first day of his vacation enjoying the sunshine, the beach, and the baked oysters.

Little did he know, not long after, a dish called "Prince's Oysters" would become wildly popular across Bordeaux.

Leisurely holidays always pass too quickly. After eight days of relaxing in various spots around Bordeaux, Joseph returned to the Arsen Wine Cellar.

The wine was finally ready.

In the warm brewing room, dozens of vineyard owners nervously watched the ten or so oak barrels, anxiously awaiting the results.

Joseph smiled at the elderly nobleman beside him. "Baron Polutac, would you mind checking the wine for everyone?"

"As you wish, Your Highness." Baron Polutac, a bit nervous, used a corkscrew to remove the stopper from the barrel and inserted a hollow glass tube into it, covering the other end with his finger.

When he pulled the glass tube out, the bottom was filled with wine.

He let the wine flow from the tube into a nearby glass, sniffed it, and then took a small sip.

Someone next to him asked anxiously, "Baron Polutac, how is it?"

Polutac's eyes sparkled as he nodded vigorously. "Excellent! Even though the grapes were from the cellar and of average quality, there's absolutely no sourness!"

Another vineyard owner quickly took the glass, not even caring that someone else had already drunk from it, and took a sip himself. He immediately praised, "It's true, not a hint of sourness!"

Polutac moved on to the next oak barrel, tasting the wine inside, and once again exclaimed in wonder, "It's the same, completely unsour!"

The group could no longer contain themselves, eagerly grabbing glasses to taste the wine, their excited praises filling the room.

When Polutac finished inspecting the last oak barrel, he looked at Joseph with nothing but reverence in his eyes.

"Your Highness, I can confirm that your brewing technique is not just effective... it's perfect!"

Out of twelve barrels, not a single one had failed! Polutac knew his brewers' abilities well, and this would have been impossible before.

Previously, if twelve barrels were brewed, and less than two turned into vinegar, he would have rewarded his brewers.

But this time, with the Prince's miraculous brewing technique, not a single barrel was ruined!

This meant his brewing costs had suddenly decreased by nearly 30%!

And while the success rate was almost 100%, the wine's quality had also significantly improved.

This unsour wine was undoubtedly high-end, and its selling price would be at least double what it was before!

Polutac's heart raced as he did a quick calculation: this increase in profit would add nearly 10,000 livres to his annual income!

Clearly, the other vineyard owners were doing similar math, all of them equally thrilled.

Suddenly, someone respectfully asked Joseph, "Your Highness, how much does it cost to use this brewing technique?"

The group fell silent and turned to Joseph in unison. While the profit potential was massive, if the costs were just as high, it wouldn't be as lucrative...

"I haven't calculated it," Joseph said, somewhat uncertain—how was he supposed to know how much it cost to boil a barrel of water? "But the additional cost per barrel shouldn't exceed 1 sou."

Their eyes lit up.

Only 1 sou per barrel? The workers in the cellar probably drank more than that!

Someone couldn't help but grin. "Let's see how the Venetians compete with us now!"

Another burst out laughing. "It's not just Venice. With the Prince's brewing technique, even Spanish wine won't stand a chance against Bordeaux."

"Bordeaux wine will dominate the European market!"

"Yes, all of Europe will drink our wine!"

"Long live the Prince!"

Vernio raised his glass high. "A toast to the Prince!"

The others immediately followed suit, raising their glasses in unison. "A toast to the Prince!"

Once the excitement died down a bit, the vineyard owners exchanged glances, and Count Torendal stepped forward as their representative, bowing to Joseph. "Your Highness, how can we gain access to your brewing technique?"

Joseph nodded. After all the buildup, it was time to reap the rewards. He smiled. "I founded the French Brewing Technology Association to give its members access to these new techniques. The usage fee is 3% of the selling price per barrel."

The group was ecstatic. They had feared the Prince would demand a fortune, but 3% was practically nothing. With the improved wine quality alone, the selling price would double—3% was almost like getting it for free.

Count Torendal quickly asked, "Your Highness, what are the requirements for joining?"

Joseph dragged out his response. "Hmm, I haven't quite decided."

The group was stunned.

Joseph then looked at Vernio and the others who had already agreed to plant a large amount of potatoes. "However, Mr. Vernio, Viscount Claremont, Mr. Mouney, and a few others have already proven their loyalty to the King through their actions. To honor that loyalty, I believe they should be the first to join."

Vernio and his group were overjoyed. They had agreed to plant potatoes just to alleviate the famine, never expecting to receive such a reward!

The other vineyard owners were puzzled by the phrase "proven their loyalty to the King," but recalling Vernio and the others' recent actions, they quickly realized the answer—they had agreed to plant a large amount of potatoes!

Baron Polutac pondered. If he could secure the new brewing technique, any loss from planting potatoes could easily be covered by the profits from wine sales. After all, the government was providing the potato "seeds," and his wine income would at least double.

With this in mind, he stepped forward. "Your Highness, I'm willing to plant 10 hectares of potatoes!"

Joseph looked at him and asked, "How large is your vineyard?"

"About 40 hectares."

"Planting 1 hectare of potatoes for every 4 hectares of grapes," Joseph nodded slightly, "That shows a fair amount of loyalty."

Polutac was overjoyed. "Your Highness, does this mean I can join the association?"

"Yes." Joseph nodded. "The membership fee is 50 livres per hectare per year."

"Membership fee?" Polutac glanced at Vernio and the others, quickly realizing—they had received a discount.

But compared to the enormous profits the new brewing technique would bring, the fee was nothing. He quickly agreed.

Seeing this, the other vineyard owners rushed to declare their willingness to plant potatoes.

"Your Highness, I'll plant 30 hectares. I have 120 hectares of vineyards."

"Your Highness, I'll plant 25 hectares…"

"Your Highness, I'll plant 50 hectares…"

As for the "land tax alliance," it was long forgotten.

Joseph smiled and signaled for the vineyard owners to register their areas with Emond and sign the planting contracts.

Watching the enthusiastic sign-ups, Vernio suddenly remembered something and hurried over to Joseph. "Your Highness, Count Ledney and the others are still unaware of what happened today. Should I inform them?"

He was referring to those who had been absent the day after the Prince's meeting.

Joseph sneered and shook his head. "Thank you for the reminder, but there's no need. Not everyone can meet the membership requirements of the French Brewing Technology Association."

The surrounding vineyard owners shuddered at the words but felt a wave of relief.

After all, if most of the wine cellars started using the new brewing techniques, those without them would quickly lose their competitiveness and go bankrupt.

Fortunately, they hadn't listened to Count Ledney that day. Otherwise, their own wine cellars might have been on the list of bankruptcies.

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