The God of Wine's Fanatic

Li Xisheng awoke, but he was already blind.

But he did not panic.

His sense of touch returned first, and he realized that he wasn't lying on the bed with the cotton mattress in his room.

The air lacked the familiar aroma of yeast from home.

Li Xisheng subtly slowed his breathing, maintaining his original posture.

He looked like he was tied up.

Moreover, he was bound by... a god.

That day, Li Xisheng's Coming-of-Age Ceremony had just ended.

He went back to his room, closed the door behind him, walked to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and took out a laminated note from a neatly stacked pile of old books.

The above is exactly what God of Wine himself wrote.

However, this is not the original work from that time.

The original had long been solemnly enshrined in a glass niche in front of the Deity Statue by his father. The one he held in his hand was one he had painstakingly copied himself, one copy at a time, using a photocopier.

Over the years, Li Xisheng would take out this note and look at it whenever he had free time.

I watched it again and again.

Each time he finished reading it, a strange sense of joy would well up inside him, drifting from his heart to his throat, turning into an irrepressible smile.

God of Wine.

Li Xisheng recited these four words, feeling that the Gods he read about on this note did not match the majestic and solemn image of the Gods his father had described.

The God of Wine will complain that the wine tastes bad, will draw a little crying face on his face, and will greet you with a grin when he finds out.

How could there be such Gods?

So cute, so incredibly cute.

Li Xisheng stuck the note to his forehead, smiled silently, his eyes crinkling.

From that day thirteen years ago, Li Xisheng became a follower of the god of God of Wine.

At first, it was just a feeling of closeness, but it gradually turned into a kind of piety that even I couldn't control.

Li Xisheng would subconsciously pay attention to all the legends and records related to the God of Wine, and would be the first to run to the offering table to put it whenever he brewed new wine.

At that time, he would say, "This is homemade; it's definitely better than my father's. Would you like to try some?"

Unfortunately, he never received a single response.

But Li Xisheng was not discouraged.

For seven years, it was a relentless cycle, month after month, year after year.

Now, Li Xisheng felt that he could be considered a Fanatic.

After all, what ordinary believer would photocopy a Gods note dozens of times, read it every day, and still feel their heart race after reading it?

Suddenly, the note in his hand disappeared; it vanished into thin air.

Li Xisheng's heart tightened. His gaze quickly swept across the table, the back of the chair, and the floor, but there was nothing there. He looked up, about to search further away, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of someone by the window.

The man stood by the window. The sunlight streaming in should have illuminated him clearly, but when it fell around him, it seemed to be gently filtered by something invisible, turning into a cold halo, as if even the light dared not disturb him.

He lowered his eyes, looking at the note that belonged to him in his hand.

He also had an old pocket Pocket Watch in his hand.

The second hand moved at a leisurely pace on the dial.

Tick-tock--tick--

"This handwriting is from alcohol. So many years have passed, and he's still the same. Leaving notes for mortals casually is one thing, but to use such a tone is another. There's absolutely no trace of Gods majesty in him."

Li Xisheng heard his heart skip a beat.

But he blurted it out the instant those words landed on his tongue.

"No! God of Wine, he is most... gentle."

He swallowed the word "cute" that was about to come out of his mouth halfway through his sentence, Shengsheng several times, and then changed to a more appropriate way of saying it.

These words made the man look towards Li Xisheng.

He was born with an extremely cold demeanor, his skin so pale it was almost translucent.

Her long, silver-gray hair was neatly tied back, without a single stray hair. Her robe was an extremely deep ink blue, with the collar fastened tightly at the top. There wasn't a single superfluous color or decoration on her entire outfit.

The only thing that shone on him was his pocket Pocket Watch.

And his eyes...

Li Xisheng had never seen eyes like those before.

Those eyes were a very pale grayish-blue, devoid of any emotion that mortals could decipher—only a detached indifference and coldness.

It's like a kind of indifference towards all things in the world.

Suddenly, Li Xisheng felt a sharp pain in his eyes, as if someone had simultaneously pierced his pupils with two red-hot needles.

He instinctively raised his hand to cover his eyes, his fingers touching a warm, viscous liquid.

A strong, rusty, bloody smell wafted to my nose.

Blood.

It was his own blood.

Blood streamed from Li Xisheng's eyes, trickling through his fingers, down the back of his hand, and dripping onto his clothes.

He can't see anything anymore.

Li Xisheng's mind raced amidst the excruciating pain.

He only glanced at it, and his eyes went blind.

In this situation, Li Xisheng could only think of one possibility.

--god.

When it comes to gods, Li Xisheng doesn't only evoke awe and distance like others do.

In his youth, he had seen God.

That happened seven years ago; he was only thirteen years old then.

He went with his father and two elder brothers to offer incense to the God of Wine.

At that time, he was bewildered and held up three incense sticks, imitating his father and brothers as he bowed and kowtowed to the Deity Statue of the god in Blue Robes and white crown.

But the moment he looked up, he saw a person sitting on the Deity Statue.

The other person's clothes were different from those on the Deity Statue, and they looked quite cute. The only thing they had in common was the round Wine Gourd hanging from their waist.

At that moment, he was sipping a jar of wine that he had just taken from the offering table. After taking a sip, the man frowned, spat twice, pulled a note from his sleeve, wrote a few words, and casually tossed it onto the offering table.

He was so engrossed in watching that he didn't notice the other person's gaze until they turned around, smiled at him with their eyes crinkled.

He remembered that smile for many years.

Unexpectedly, on the day of his Coming-of-Age Ceremony, he saw another god.

This time, however, those eyes held no smile. Only a cold indifference that burned his gaze.

At this moment, Li Xisheng finally understood a principle.

Not all Gods are as gentle as God of Wine.

Looking back now, I realize how incredibly lucky I was back then.

If he had met this person when he was thirteen, his eyes would probably have gone blind the moment he saw the other person.

"I never expected you could see me. However, one cannot look directly at a god."

Then, the other person raised their hand.

The Li Xisheng was buried under a book that had been closed and not yet finished, and it knew nothing more.

By the time his senses returned, it was already now.

Li Xisheng was still blind. His eyes were covered with blood crusts and he couldn't open them.

He lay there for a moment, then spoke into the void.

Could you please tell me your purpose?