Prologue
High above the heavens, celestial music drifted softly as two white-bearded elders drank and made merry. These two were none other than the Wine Immortal and the Old Matchmaker of the heavenly realm.
“Old Matchmaker, before we realized it, several hundred years have passed. The heavens have become far too quiet. Back in the days when the Flower Goddess and the Battle God were still here, things were so lively—everywhere you went, it was bustling. Ever since they were punished and everyone else scattered to different realms, it’s been just the two of us drinking alone.”
The Wine Immortal sighed as he looked at a display stone nearby, showing scenes from the mortal world, stirring up old memories.
“Yes, time flies. Those days have almost turned into ancient stories now,” the Old Matchmaker said, stroking his long beard with a sigh.
“The Flower Goddess and the Battle God’s forbidden love was punished by the Heavenly Emperor. The two were sent to reincarnate in the lower world, and only when they fall in love again can they return to the immortal ranks. Now that I count the years, this should be their seventh lifetime since reincarnating. I wonder how they are now?”
“They’ve indeed reached their seventh life. But sadly…”
The Old Matchmaker paused, then spoke with a deliberately mysterious air.
“The Flower Goddess is in the modern era, while the Battle God is on an ancient continent. Separated by different times and spaces—meeting each other is harder than climbing to the heavens.”
“You mean they have no chance of meeting at all? If they fail to reunite in this lifetime, they’ll be reduced to dust and vanish completely. What are we supposed to do? When the Heavenly Emperor punished them, he even separated their timelines? That way they’ll never meet and thus can never return. Isn’t that right? Old Matchmaker, you oversee mortal fates—nothing escapes your grasp. For the sake of all the rare flower wines the Flower Goddess gifted you in the past, please help them!”
The Wine Immortal grew anxious.
“Destiny is ordained. No one can interfere,” the Old Matchmaker said lazily, taking a sip of wine.
“Besides the Heavenly Emperor, only you can save them! Back then, when you made your mistake and were punished, it was the Battle God who risked himself to plead for you. Without him, you wouldn’t be living so comfortably now. And now that they’re in danger, you intend to sit by and watch? Old Matchmaker, you ungrateful thing! I really misjudged you.”
“Ay, you… When will you stop being such a hot-headed cannon? Every fate is set by past lives—no one can rewrite it. Otherwise, what would be the point of me being the Old Matchmaker?”
He flicked his sleeve toward the mortal realm, giving a subtle tug at a few red strings while watching the Wine Immortal out of the corner of his eye.
“You…”
The Wine Immortal was speechless. To be so shameless—across all the heavens, no, across all creation—only the man before him could manage that.
“Since it’s a good deed, I may as well give them a little bonus. Hopefully when they return, they’ll remember my kindness.”
The Old Matchmaker took out his treasured gourd and dripped a tiny bit of its contents onto the display stone showing the mortal world. Then he winked mysteriously at the Wine Immortal.
“What was that?”
“Heaven’s secrets are not to be revealed…”
The Old Matchmaker stroked his snowy beard.
“With this, their journey should go quite smoothly. And when the Flower Goddess returns, she owes me at least ten jars of flower wine.”
“Everyone knows the Flower Goddess brews her wine by the drop—a single drop can increase cultivation. And you want ten jars? You’re being outrageous.”
The Wine Immortal scoffed.
“Hmph. You’ll understand later. For all you know, she might personally come deliver them to me. I won’t waste more breath on you, you fire-tempered cannon.”
The Old Matchmaker waved him off and disappeared, leaving the Wine Immortal alone and puzzled.