Lan Jue mirrored the man’s smile. “You mean my luck! I would not have guessed I’d see a 1990 Rieussec here. I have to admit I’m desperate to try some. If you’re willing to sell it to me, we’ll open it up right here – we won’t take it anywhere.”
True aficionados of wine, even merchants, understood. If you had to give up a wine, then the next best thing was to watch it being enjoyed. This would also ensure it wasn’t wasted by the uneducated.
The manager was one such person, and the moment he heard Lan Jue’s assurances then his face softened. He looked much less defensive.
“I can see you’re a genuine connoisseur, good sir. Regrettably, this particular vintage is quite painful to part with.” He paired the words with an apologetic smile.
It was Lan Jue’s turn to adopt a pitiful look. “I hate to cause you trouble, but I’m determined. Tell me what you want and we can discuss a price that works.”
