His Special Alert Lit Up

This time, Wuma Xiu was more attentive and patient than before.

An hour passed quietly.

Wuma Xiu's gaze fell on the newly formed image, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up slightly.

He added many small details to the chibi version.

"Okay. See, do you like it now?"

Wuma Xiu picked up the gourd, turned around and handed it to the God of Time, his eyes sparkling with a smile.

The God of Time had actually been standing quietly to the side the whole time, his gaze fixed between the carving knife and the gourd, watching Wuma Xiu stroke by stroke, inch by inch.

He watched the entire process of depiction without missing a single word, and naturally, he liked it.

He liked it from the very first cut.

It's actually quite simple.

He likes everything as long as there are no eyesores.

"Like."

Seeing that the God of Time had finally accepted it, Wuma Xiu felt a sense of relief, as if his debt had been repaid.

Alright.

"Then, can I stay here with you for a few days?"

As Wuma Xiu spoke, his head drooped listlessly, and even his voice carried a weak tone at the end.

"For the past two weeks, I've truly exhausted all my energy in refining this gourd; I'm completely drained."

He raised his eyelids and secretly glanced at the God of Time from under his eyelashes, making a pitiful look as if he was about to collapse at any moment.

He knew perfectly well what was going on.

Sometimes she appears cold on the outside but is warm-hearted on the inside.

If I put on this act, he's sure to soften and nod in agreement.

Really.

"Okay. You know my doors are always open for you. Welcome."

Upon hearing this, Wuma Xiu was overjoyed.

He lowered his head, unable to suppress the laughter escaping his lips, his shoulders shaking as he let out a soft "hehehe."

He knew it.

If you pretend to be pitiful, you'll definitely feel guilty.

It always works, never fails.

Wuma Xiu, who had successfully settled into the Temple of Time, was living a very leisurely life. He nestled on Soft Couch, the sunlight streaming through the high dome, warming him like a thin blanket.

Even the wind slowed its pace as it passed by.

He rolled over halfway, buried his face in his sleeve, and lazily squinted his eyes, pondering in his mind.

As for why he's staying here...

There are a few reasons.

First, he really wanted to find a place to rest for a while. He had been exhausted for the past two weeks because of that gourd, and it would be a huge waste if he didn't get some rest.

Secondly, the smell inside the Temple of Time was absolutely wonderful.

I can't quite put my finger on what it is.

Anyway Wuma Xiu really liked it, so much so that every time he stepped through that door, he couldn't help but relax.

Just as Wuma Xiu was about to lie down again, he suddenly heard a very familiar voice.

The special attention I had previously given to someone in my mind lit up.

--Qin Jiu?

Wuma Xiu remembered his promise to Qin Jiu.

He pulled himself out of the soft couch.

The soft couch was made of some unknown material, as soft as a cloud, making him so comfortable that he didn't want to move.

Ultimately, however, his strong willpower prevailed.

"Just then, my friend called me. I'm off! See you next time!"

Wuma Xiu turned his head hastily, waved to the God of Time, his voice tinged with apology and urgency.

Before he finished speaking, his figure had already faded away from the spot like a thin mist blown away by the wind.

The God of Time was very happy lately... okay, he's not happy now.

Friends who drink?

Who is it this time?

The God of Time lowered his eyes, his thin lips slightly pursed.

The light inside the hall dimmed, the wind stopped, and even the fresh, pleasant scent in the air seemed to fade.

He appeared on the River of Time and saw that friend who drank.

An ordinary person.

Just another mortal!

The God of Time thought of Li Xisheng, whose anxious expression earlier was because he wanted to save a mortal, a mortal whose life was as fleeting as morning dew.

And now, another mortal snatched the wine from his side.

The lifespan of mortals is no more than a hundred years, which is but a blink of an eye for gods who live as long as heaven and earth.

In that brief blink of an eye, the party was there to talk to them, to laugh with them, and to accompany them through a lifetime.

Forever and ever.

Their lifetimes, between gods, were so long that they seemed to have no end.

But what about mortals?

Human life is fleeting, passionate, and vibrant, like fireworks that burst open with a bang, filling the sky with dazzling colors, and then turning to ashes in an instant.

In the heart of the God of Time, a terrible thought slowly rose from the depths of his mind, like bubbles rising one by one from the bottom of water.

There are countless times more mortals than these gods.

If only I could make a few more mortal friends with wine...

So, does that mean I won't come here anymore?

The God of Time lowered his eyes, his fingertips tracing the carving on the gourd. That figure, lingering by his side... would it one day be taken away by these mortals?

The moment this thought popped into the mind of the God of Time, he extinguished it immediately.

Impossible.

That's definitely impossible.

Although the other person always seems cheerful and sometimes likes to play little pranks, they always take good care of their feelings.

Seven years is but a blink of an eye for a god. A nap, a few pages of books, a few moments of reverie on the River of Time, and it slips away silently.

But for a person, this is a considerable amount of time.

From a newborn baby, to a tiny, crying life in swaddling clothes, to a child who can run, jump, talk, and make noise.

From a seed that has just sprouted from the soil, it can withstand wind and rain, growing taller inch by inch. Eventually, it grows into a tree that is several meters or even tens of meters tall, with lush branches and leaves, standing tall and majestic.

These past seven years have been a period of dramatic change for Qin Jiu.

He is no longer the unknown Brewing Artisan used to huddle deep inside the distillery.

Seven years have honed him meticulously and lifted him to great heights.

This allowed him to rise from obscurity to the spotlight, becoming a highly sought-after superstar on the Star Network.

"Xiao Jiu, this is the schedule for next week. Take a look."

A Siwen- looking man with thin-rimmed glasses walked slowly over. He raised his hand and sent a form to Qin Jiu's Lightbrain. The form was densely packed with information.

Qin Jiu was nestled on the Sofa when he heard this, so he looked down and glanced at the source. Just then, a round, orange cat suddenly appeared from somewhere, leaped into his arms, nudged his knee with its paws, and then curled up into a fluffy ball contentedly.

"Fat Orange, you've gained weight again. Did you sneak some dried fish while I was away?"

The Fat Orange meowed a few times.

[No, no. Fat Orange just saw them sitting there all alone, so he let them reunite inside his belly.]

Seven years have passed, Fat Orange's art of speaking has improved considerably.