I'll Have to Use My Trump Card

The Brewing Artisan looked at the young man in front of him, who was trying so hard to sell his wares, and couldn't help but chuckle.

He bent down, his gaze level with Wuma Xiu's, pointed to his own ear, then to the other's delicate, almost translucent face. "Hundreds of years ago, the Federation issued a law that prohibited anyone under twenty from drinking alcohol. You look very young. I can't possibly Scourge a child like you."

Because of increased life expectancy, the age of adulthood, originally eighteen, has now been set at twenty.

However, the Brewing Artisan couldn't hold back any longer.

The little boy in front of me was so cute, with two rosy cheeks on his round face and a pair of big, bright eyes looking at me.

Even this rugged, burly man couldn't resist reaching out to ruffle that fluffy head.

He rubbed his fingers together.

In the end, he suppressed the impulse, his Adam's apple bobbing.

No, that's too abrupt.

It's inappropriate to pat a younger guy you just met on the head.

"I don't remember how old I am this year, but I'm at least much older than twenty, really."

Wuma Xiu's expression couldn't be more sincere.

"I never lie."

The reason he's acting this way is to increase others' initial positive impression of him.

But I never expected to get drunk because of this. I should have come dressed as an adult.

He thought to himself with frustration.

However, he was determined to drink this glass of wine today.

"No means no."

The Brewing Artisan stood with his arms crossed, his towering figure blocking the wine barrels, his face etched with unwavering stubbornness.

"Minors can't drink alcohol. And if you want me to trust you, show me your ID card."

Wuma Xiu fell silent.

He's not human; he doesn't have a Federation issued identity card.

This silence, in the eyes of the Brewing Artisan, was irrefutable proof of guilt. Sure enough, he knew this little guy must be a minor to be unable to produce an ID card.

That nonsense almost fooled him.

"Uncle, if you do this, I have no choice but to use my ultimate move." Wuma Xiu's expression turned serious.

The Brewing Artisan remained unmoved.

Regardless of whether the other party intends to spend Star Coins or call for reinforcements, he is not going to give away the wine.

This was a fundamental principle he had upheld for most of his life as Brewing Artisan.

Wuma Xiu lowered his head, his chestnut-brown bangs obscuring his eyes.

He raised his head, and two bright tears appeared on his chubby little face. His eyes were red, his nose was red, and his mouth was pouting into a pitiful arc.

Her eyes were wet with tears, like a kitten abandoned in the rain.

He benefited from his confidante— the Goddess of Beauty.

God of Wine knew all too well how devastating this appearance could be.

After all, even the Goddess of Beauty This Venerable couldn't resist his face making that expression.

Of course, the person in front of you can't either.

The God of Wine in the past would never have used such a method.

Just kidding, he's the God of Wine, with friends all over the world, drinking wherever he goes.

When would you need to use this method to get alcohol?

In this regard, we can only say that the effects of forces are mutual.

While God of Wine was influencing Goddess of Beauty, he was also being subtly influenced by her. Goddess of Beauty learned mischief from him, while he learned to play the victim from Goddess of Beauty.

The Brewing Artisan stood frozen in place, a visible wavering appearing on his rugged face.

Those wet, pitiful eyes stared at him, without saying a word.

But for him, it was more damaging than any plea.

No, minors cannot drink alcohol.

His reason was screaming.

Then...

The Brewing Artisan poured a bowl of wine from the barrel.

By the time he came to his senses, the bowl of wine was already being held in both hands by the young man in front of him, who gulped it down in large mouthfuls.

He stared at his hand, still in the pouring motion, his mind blank.

It's over.

How could he do something like giving alcohol to a minor?

Wuma Xiu finished the last sip, handed the empty bowl back, licked the foam from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes sparkled.

He smacked his lips, savoring the moment, then tilted his head back and spoke in a serious tone:

"Not bad. However, when brewing, add a spoonful less water to the soaking liquid. After putting it in the cellar, let it sit for a few more days to extend the anaerobic fermentation time; the flavor will be even better."

The Brewing Artisan was still repenting in place, suddenly raised his head, and the guilt on his face was instantly replaced by shock.

This assessment was accurate and insightful, pinpointing the shortcomings of his batch of wines.

This young man guessed everything correctly after only drinking one bowl.

I never expected that such a small child would be such an expert.

"By the way, we agreed before that I never owe anyone anything."

Wuma Xiu took out a small Wine Gourd and casually tossed it to the other person. The gourd was no bigger than the palm of his hand, and its surface was smooth with no markings, unlike his own gourd which was crookedly engraved with "One More Flask, please."

After all, his Wine Gourd contained enough wine to fill an entire planet's worth of ocean water.

Let alone drinking it, most people couldn't even lift it.

This small one is enough.

The Brewing Artisan caught the Wine Gourd.

He wanted to say something, but saw that the other person had already skipped and hopped far away, the Wine Gourd at his waist swaying back and forth.

Although it's true that Encounters are often like this, he was still somewhat disappointed. It was rare to meet such a likable young man who knew about wine and was also quite charming. He had even considered inviting him home for a meal so his wife could meet him.

After watching the bouncy figure disappear into the distance, the Brewing Artisan looked down at the small Wine Gourd in his hand.

He uncorked the gourd, and a rich aroma of wine wafted out.

The aroma was rich and refreshing; just one whiff brought an indescribable sense of comfort that spread from the nasal cavity to every part of the body.

He's been brewing wine for most of his life.

From apprentice to craftsman, he had smelled at least eight thousand barrels, if not ten thousand, of wines, and he could recognize a wine just by its aroma.

This wine is extremely rare in the world.

Not to mention the fine wines he's so proud of in his barrels, even those old wines that fetch astronomical prices at auctions pale in comparison to this gourd... no, they're simply incomparable.

Such precious wine, given away so casually.

It seems that young man is indeed no ordinary person.

The Brewing Artisan suddenly remembered his elderly mother who had been bedridden for many years, and his heart skipped a beat.

The aroma of this wine made him feel refreshed, and if he were to take a sip, it might actually benefit his mother's health.

He dared not delay any longer, so he stuffed the gourd shut, bent down, hoisted the barrel of wine back onto his shoulder, and hurried home.