Missing You

Have you ever heard this saying?

I don't care what you think, I care what I think.

[Tong, I feel like he offended me.]

[Then, host, just kill him.]

The system sentenced Lin Yan to death without hesitation.

But physical death isn't enough; it can also cause social death. All it takes is a flick of its finger to write something.

This isn't fun anymore.

Wuma Xiu sat slumped on the Fat Orange Cloud, elbows propped on his knees, palms supporting his chin, his tone tinged with boredom.

He had thought that the Demigod's Son would at least bring some amusement.

As a result, the other party doesn't dare to say a single tough word now.

He yawned slightly, and a few tears welled up in the corners of his eyes.

He's so bored right now, he's almost asleep.

Speaking of which, he used to be quite amusing when he was asleep.

The Dream God always comes uninvited.

At that time, he was having a dream contest with the Dream God to see who could get drunk first.

Although the Dream God always said he couldn't get drunk in his dreams, he still drank pot after pot with him.

Unfortunately, the Dream God has not yet awakened.

So even when I'm asleep, I'm still bored.

Wuma Xiu rested his chin on his knees and swung his toes, which were dangling over the edge of the clouds.

The Spring God has not yet awakened.

That gentle god, whose voice was as warm as a March breeze caressing a newly blossoming flower bud.

No matter how much trouble he caused in the Spring God Temple, even if he poured wine on all the flowers in the garden or secretly carved "The God of Wine was here" on the swing of the God of Spring God, the other party would just smile and then brew him a cup of herbal tea to relieve his hangover.

Back then, he buried a hundred jars of Drunken Blossom Wine behind the Spring God Temple, promising to dig them up and drink them together someday.

Unfortunately, they all fell into a deep sleep after that.

Now, the Flower Tree where the wine was buried has seen countless cycles of blooming and withering, yet the Spring God remains asleep.

And there's also the Music God.

He was very happy when he Theology of Music.

The more Wuma Xiu thought about it, the more nostalgic he became. In the end, his swinging of his feet gradually slowed down, and his lips unconsciously pursed into a thin line.

He misses them very much.

He usually wrapped this longing in layers of fine wine and playful banter, hiding it deep within the wine cellar of his heart, rarely bringing it out.

But today, he probably didn't tease Lin Yan enough.

Those long-suppressed feelings began to seep out from the cracks in the wine jar.

Wake up, my friends.

Wuma Xiu muttered to himself.

Then he raised his head and looked at Lin Yan.

"Hey, write a letter to your Demigod father. Tell him you've been kidnapped by some unknown Divine Scion, and if he doesn't ask his God of Fire father for help, I'll kill you."

"Remember to write it as excessively as possible, understand?"

Based on Wuma Xiu's understanding of the God of God of Fire.

He'll be furious when he sees the letter; he'll think that Divine Scion dares to touch his people.

Given God of Fire's fiery temper, he would definitely burn that arrogant fool to ashes with great ferocity.

After they met, I took advantage of their momentary daze and hugged them tightly.

At that time, his friend, God of Fire, will definitely have a crack on his face; just thinking about it makes me laugh.

But first of all, let me clarify that this is not a prank.

That's called a surprise.

Lin Yan stood to the side, feeling his body heat up.

Most people feel cold.

Unfortunately, all he faced next was a barrage of powerful punches.

Isn't this a fever?

Putting aside that Demigod ancestor, his own life probably wouldn't even be enough for Lord God of Fire to beat him up.

Lin Yan's Divine Blood was too thin; he didn't even dare to overstep his bounds with that intimate form of address.

He could only respectfully address the other party as "God of Fire Vulcan".

It's over.

This time it's really over.

If he had known this would happen, why did he do it in the first place? Wouldn't it have been better if he had just stayed home and been an ordinary Demigod? He could have spent his days drinking, chasing after beautiful women, and living the life of a good-for-nothing playboy. Apart from the occasional nagging about being "useless," his life would have been like that of a god.

Why did I have to come here to become some kind of Space Pirates leader?

Unfortunately, there's no going back.

Lin Yan knew in his heart that if he didn't write the letter, he would die right now.

Don't let the small size of the God of Wine in front of you fool you; it's quite cute.

But God is God.

That harmless smile could kill two people without blinking an eye in the next second, or it could kill him with the most nonchalant expression.

Even if his Demigod ancestor came, he would probably only be able to smile and clap his hands in approval.

When Lin Yan handed the letter to the Firebird, his heart sank completely; his life was now on a countdown.

The beautiful woman he had been embracing earlier was now lying unconscious on the bed, clearly stunned by the shocking scene.

While waiting, Wuma Xiu looked at Qin Jiu beside him.

Seeing the other person's expression change, he patted the Fat Orange Cloud beneath him, and the fluffy cloud immediately understood and swelled up even more.

It's big enough for two people to lie side by side and roll around on it.

"Would you like to sit? This is very soft."

Qin Jiu saw that his God of Wine of wine was extending an invitation to him.

At this moment, his mind was still somewhat confused.

The angel said, "This is the God of Wine you have always believed in. You must respect him and not overstep your bounds."

The demon whispered, "What does it matter? He's the God of Wine, but he's also your friend, Xiaojiu. It's normal for friends to go a little overboard, isn't it?"

"Little... God of Wine, I don't need it."

"Alright. I respect your decision. But we're friends, so there's no need to be so deferential to me."

Wuma Xiu didn't insist; he simply snapped his fingers.

As soon as the crisp snap of his fingers rang out, a plump orange cat appeared out of thin air in his hand.

The cat seemed confused, its four paws flailing in the air, its tail bristling like a feather duster, as it let out a loud, angry protest.

"I guess you might miss Fat Orange, here you go."

Wuma Xiu handed the Fat Orange to Qin Jiu.

When the Fat Orange turned its head and saw its owner, it was stunned for a second, and then it unceremoniously stretched out its two front paws, grabbed Qin Jiu's collar, and started a series of accusations.

[You useless master, where have you been all this time? Do you know that Fat Orange Lord has lost weight from searching for you?]

Qin Jiu instinctively caught the heavy, furry creature.

"Fat Orange, you seem to have gained some weight since before."

Meow~

[How is that possible! I've only eaten twelve cans of dried anchovies, drunk twenty jars of wine, and ate...]

The Fat Orange's accusations came to an abrupt halt; its four paws froze, and the tip of its tail curled up guiltily.

Oh no, it's given itself away.

It's alright, though; its useless owner can't understand its noble meowing.

It flicked its tail, gave a "I didn't say anything" look, and turned its head to the side.

"Fat Orange, did you really eat that much? This is what you used to eat in a whole month!"