Chapter 45 : Doing One Good Deed a Day
Chapter 45: Doing One Good Deed a Day
The long night stretched on, with not a soul in sight.
Fang Chang felt it was necessary for everyone to meet in advance.
Between Corpse Puppets and their master—and between Corpse Puppets themselves.
Although, when it came to how he treated Corpse Puppets, it could always be described with four words: confident and unrestrained.
But that was because the relationship between Corpse Puppet and master was unbreakable.
Between Corpse Puppets, however, it was different.
If they accepted their fate and got along harmoniously, that was fine.
But if there were restless or jealous ones, stirring up trouble and inflicting mental and psychological harm on others, then he would inevitably have to step in and mediate.
Especially a certain Zhao.
Sigh...
Come to think of it, this could be considered a minor flaw of 【Original Soul Awakening】.
In the game, this manifested as the Corpse Puppet’s mood constantly decreasing, while combat power would also decline.
At that point, emotional-type items would be needed to raise mood, trigger special CGs, and maintain combat effectiveness.
Seriously.
What kind of broken mechanic is this?
Fang Chang glanced at Zhao Yuntong.
Firelight flickered, carrying a faint feminine fragrance.
Her bright features were exquisitely sculpted, every part of her brows, eyes, lips, and nose radiating alluring charm.
After becoming a corpse for days, her skin was pale, devoid of blood.
Sitting there quietly, her pupils reflecting the dancing flames, yet devoid of the vitality of the living.
She had nothing to do with lively beauty.
Yet she could be called an exquisitely beautiful object of death.
…Today, Zhao Yuntong seemed more tranquil than usual.
“What are you looking at?”
Zhao Yuntong looked over, her eyes cold.
Fang Chang curled his lips. “What if I am?”
Ignoring her—
Fang Chang wiped his hands and patted the Black Tortoise Square Cauldron at his waist.
A flash of spiritual light appeared, and a massive coffin crashed onto the ground, scattering leaves and dry branches.
At the moment the coffin appeared, a few muffled lines of scripture drifted out from within.
But as soon as it landed, whoever was inside seemed to realize something—abruptly stopping.
Not a sound followed.
Zhao Yuntong watched coldly, saying nothing.
Fang Chang tossed a pebble—*clack*—it struck the coffin.
“Don’t stop. Keep chanting. I like listening to a bit of scripture while eating meat—it feels like their souls are colliding in my mouth, spicy, better than garlic.”
“……”
The coffin lid slowly opened. After half a month, Zhang Su finally appeared.
She sat up with hands pressed together, her gentle and serene face now carrying a hint of resentment.
The neck exposed by her newly bought monk robe was pale to the point of glaring, devoid of life.
She looked like a compassionate dead bodhisattva.
Adding a strange sense of beauty.
“Benefactor Fang, I observe that all sentient beings since beginningless time have, through countless causes and conditions, been each other’s relatives. Because of this kinship, one should not eat meat.”
Zhang Su advised.
“Well said!”
Fang Chang slurped down a piece of sauce-soaked lamb, looking satisfied.
“……”
Zhang Su stepped out of the coffin and sat not far from Fang Chang.
She had changed into a loose gray monk robe. The chest area stretched taut, outlining two full curves.
The fabric should have hung loosely, yet where it should rise, it rose; where it should dip, it dipped. Her waist was slender enough to be grasped in one hand, and below it, her hips curved upward—like a Guanyin statue wrapped in cloth.
“The 《Lankavatara Sutra》 says that those who eat meat carry killing intent. When sentient beings smell it, they feel fear… more importantly, the Buddha observed with wisdom that beings in the cycle of reincarnation have been each other’s parents and siblings across lifetimes. What you eat today may have been your closest kin in a past life.”
She did not grow angry.
Her voice became even gentler and more patient.
Truly like advising a younger generation.
Seeing her attitude change somewhat, Fang Chang smiled. “Thought it through? Accepted your fate? You’re much more obedient than a certain someone.”
A certain Zhao snorted coldly.
Suddenly, she raised her palm and infused Spiritual Essence into the campfire. The flames surged violently, charring a large portion of the roasting lamb.
She abruptly stood and squeezed herself between Fang Chang and Zhang Su.
Then sat there with a cold face, silent.
Zhang Su looked slightly embarrassed, shifting her hips back a little to create distance.
“It is neither acceptance nor understanding.”
“Benefactor Fang helped my niece Muxue escape her predicament—this is a kindness I owe. Now that I am a Corpse Puppet and under your command… this is the cycle of cause and effect, the workings of karma. I am repaying a debt. When the karma dissipates, I will naturally end my own life.”
Fang Chang found it amusing.
As expected of someone from the Guanyin Path—her self-hypnosis skills were quite something.
“So you won’t help me, and will instead obstruct me in everything?”
Zhang Su neither confirmed nor denied. “This poor nun will not kill, nor assist evil. I will only supervise actions and do one good deed a day to accumulate virtue.”
“Sounds like you’re still more obedient than someone.”
Zhao Yuntong looked over coldly.
Fang Chang ignored her and continued smiling. “I have a request.”
“Please speak, benefactor.”
“Can you change from doing one good deed a day to doing two?”
Zhang Su’s beautiful eyes lit up instantly, emotions surging within.
Benefactor Fang!
“Of course! One can never have too many good deeds. Benefactor, you can—”
Fang Chang interrupted, “Why didn’t you ask why?”
“Ah? …Why?”
“Because doing one good deed a day accumulates small virtue. Doing two a day accumulates big, big virtue.”
Zhang Su froze for a moment.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand—it was that her rigid, conservative mind needed time to process.
When she realized, her eyelashes trembled, her lips pressed into a line. She tried to pretend she hadn’t heard, but her pale face flushed red in an instant, making one want to take a bite.
“Amitabha.”
She chanted quickly and softly, as if washing her ears with the Buddha’s name.
She didn’t dare look at Fang Chang, staring at the ground before her feet, hurriedly retreating again. Her chest trembled as if she wanted to dig a hole and hide.
Fang Chang laughed heartily, in high spirits.
Teasing Zhang Su was quite entertaining—much more fun than teasing Zhao Yuntong.
The former blushed shyly, irresistibly charming.
As for the latter… she would probably take it seriously and make you show her—
Fang Chang turned his head.
He saw Zhao Yuntong’s lifeless eyes staring at Zhang Su—at her trembling eyelashes, at the curves beneath her robe, at the flushed tips of her ears.
She stared for a long time.
Then she smiled.
“Heh.”
That smile on her pale face was more chilling than a cry.
She suddenly lowered her head and gently leaned against Fang Chang’s shoulder.
“Tell another joke.”
Her voice was soft, almost coquettish, yet her fingers gripped his sleeve tightly, knuckles turning white. “Tell it for her—I want to hear it too.”
As she spoke, her eyelids lifted slightly, looking past Fang Chang’s shoulder.
Meeting Zhang Su’s eyes directly.
There was no emotion in Zhao Yuntong’s eyes—only something that sent chills down one’s spine.
Fang Chang inwardly went, ‘uh-oh’.
He suddenly realized that this gathering meant to ease relations and promote harmony among his Corpse Puppets… seemed not very successful.
Before he could think further, the ground beneath him suddenly trembled.
The tremor swept through the forest and clouds. With a loud boom, the mountains and woods shook violently.
A flurry of wings burst from the treetops, followed by more frantic flapping as flocks of birds streaked across the night sky.
Zhao Yuntong and Zhang Su both looked east at the same time.
Their voices sank:
“Someone is fighting.”