Looking at the '1' above his head, Yue Shi felt a slight pang of frustration.
In the distance, a child about seven or eight years old ran out of an alley, holding a popsicle.
He was running too fast and didn't watch his step. He tripped over a raised paving stone, and the popsicle fell to the ground, shattering.
The child’s lip trembled, and he was on the verge of a loud, wailing cry.
A nearby elderly man selling roasted sweet potatoes bought another popsicle from a convenience store and handed it to him. “There now, good boy, don't cry...”
The child froze, took the popsicle, and broke into a smile through his tears.
After finishing the popsicle, the child helped the old man move some sweet potatoes.
“Thank you for the popsicle, Grandpa.” The number above the child's head jumped from 130 to 133.
The number above the old man's head jumped from 78 to 79.
Yue Shi watched that 133 above the child's head from afar and remained silent for a long time.
That popsicle was worth only one yuan and fifty cents.
“It’s easier for children to farm points,” Ghost's voice drifted out from his collar, his teasing tone carrying a hint of mockery.
Yue Shi stood up and patted the dust off his trousers. The '1' above his head shimmered with a dim golden light in the setting sun.
The child had already run off, and the popsicle wrapper had been tossed into a trash can.
“For adults, everything is a transaction—a clean exchange of money for goods. Their gratitude to me certainly isn't as sincere,” Yue Shi remarked with a sigh.
The bald man nearby overheard him and looked completely unconvinced. After a moment of consideration, he said, “Boss, when it comes to farming moral points, the prerequisite is that you actually need to have a bit of morality to begin with. You need a foundation to build upon.”
Yue Shi stared at the bald man with a dark, sinister expression. “What do you mean by that?”
The bald man hurried to explain, “It’s like the marketing copy that celebrities put out. Some celebrities are truly beautiful, so they can buy promotional articles and go on a marketing frenzy about their looks, inflating an eight-out-of-ten beauty into something peerless and divine that outshines everyone else.”
“But if that celebrity is a hideous troll like Ru Hua, no matter how much money you spend on marketing their beauty, no one is going to buy it.”
“It’s the same logic. You can farm moral points, but if you yourself are fundamentally broken...”
The bald man tried his best to use a tone that wouldn't wound Yue Shi's self-esteem, but Yue Shi still felt like his composure had been slightly compromised.
“Good heavens, being a good person is just too difficult. The cost is absurdly high.”
After his lament, Yue Shi began to settle the day's wages.
He divided the stack of cash into several portions, securing each with a rubber band.
The bald man rubbed his hands together, his gaze shifting back and forth between the pile of money and the '1' above Yue Shi's head. His facial muscles twitched as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed the words back down.
In all his years in this business, this was the first time he had seen someone like Yue Shi. Just how devoid of character did someone have to be to spend an entire afternoon farming and only gain a single point?
At the very least, this benefactor was quite generous with the payments.
Yue Shi pushed the money over. The bald man took it and stuffed it into his briefcase without even counting it.
“Boss, feel free to contact us whenever you have a need.” A professional, fake smile plastered itself onto his face.
Yue Shi nodded.
The bald man turned and left with the Professional Thankers. Their leather shoes made crisp clicking sounds on the concrete, growing fainter and fainter until they finally disappeared around the corner of the alley.
The surroundings fell silent. Yue Shi stared blankly at the '1' above his head.
“What now?” Ghost drifted out from a button on his collar and did a lap in the air. “Keep farming points? Or play something else?”
Yue Shi fell into deep thought, then whispered after a moment, “There will always be a loophole.”
“What?”
“This rule—the Good Person Card, the moral score—there will always be a loophole.”
Yue Shi cracked his neck, his cervical vertebrae letting out a series of pops. “As long as I find the most efficient way to farm points, the rest is just a matter of time and money.”
Ghost was silent for two seconds. “Are you sure you want to keep doing this?”
“I have to...” Before Yue Shi could finish, the Snow Leopard that had been curled in his arms suddenly lunged and bit him hard.
Normally, the Snow Leopard would nip at him in play, but this time it was a genuine bite that sank deep into the flesh.
Two rows of cracks immediately appeared on Yue Shi's right forearm, spreading along his arm. Within the cracks, something pitch-black was flowing.
“Hiss—” Yue Shi sucked in a breath of cold air but didn't shake the Snow Leopard off.
He looked down at the small animal whose teeth were still embedded in his flesh, his expression shifting unsteadily.
The Snow Leopard looked up to meet his gaze, its eyes devoid of emotion. It stuck out its tongue to lick Yue Shi's wound before releasing its grip and curling back up in his arms.
Ghost drifted down from the air and leaned in to inspect the wound on Yue Shi's arm. The two rows of neat teeth marks were rapidly healing.
Ghost grumbled, “You’re not raising a Snow Leopard; you’re raising an ungrateful wretch. Last time, this leopard used your face to sand the floor, and now it’s biting you. Is it going to chew off your fingers as a snack next time?”
The Snow Leopard replied to Ghost with a look of contempt, its breathing steady as if nothing had happened.
Yue Shi reached out and rubbed the Snow Leopard's head, his fingers moving through the silver-grey fur to touch the warm skin beneath.
The Snow Leopard's ears twitched, and it burrowed further into his arms, finding a more comfortable position.
“...” Ghost watched this scene, utterly bewildered. “What is the deal with this Snow Leopard anyway? Your tolerance for it is ridiculously high.”
The wound on Yue Shi's arm had completely vanished. Instead of answering Ghost's question, he asked, “Don't you find it strange?”
Ghost was confused. “What’s strange?”
Yue Shi looked toward the sky as twilight transitioned into night. “That I actually had so much patience. I spent an entire afternoon doing good deeds and was so obsessed with farming the score on this Good Person Card.”
Ghost tilted his head in thought. “It’s not like you were actually doing good; you were just buying points. How is it any different from buying fake reviews for online shopping?”
Yue Shi shook his head. “No, you don't understand. The fact that I don't go out and commit evil is already a rare form of kindness. Yet, for some reason, I felt a strange urge to farm this moral score.”
“Even if these are just fake good deeds, if this charade continues for too long, will it eventually distort me completely?”
Ghost looked at him. “So?”
Yue Shi said seriously, “I suspect there is some kind of power in this world influencing me.”
Ghost fell silent, speechless, and then began to mock him relentlessly. “Are you sure?”
“Isn't it just that you spent all afternoon farming points only to get a measly 1, and you're so triggered that you're blaming the world to save face?”
Yue Shi rolled his eyes. “You’re a simpleton not worth planning with! You talk nothing but nonsense all day!”
Ghost was incensed. “Who are you calling a concubine-born brat? I’m from a perfectly legitimate line...”
“Yes, yes, yes, you're the purest legitimate heir there is.” Yue Shi picked up the Snow Leopard and turned to walk away.
Ghost drifted behind him, solemnly emphasizing that his ancestors for many generations were strictly legitimate and that there was absolutely no concubine blood in his line.
With a few jokes, the atmosphere lightened again. However, Ghost was still curious about the Snow Leopard's origin; it seemed that after it bit Yue Shi, he had suddenly regained his clarity.
Rate on N.U.
