On entering a baijiu distillery, it’s immediately evident that a unique spirit is being crafted. The sweet-and-sour funk of fermenting grains scents the air for blocks, and inside, the air is hot and musty, thick with steam. The walls are streaked with mold. There are no copper stills, wooden barrels, or vats of any sort. There is only a small army of workers furiously raking and shoveling piles of solid grain, from the stone floor into a massive steamer, and back again.