Chapter Seven: Moral Blackmail

"Science is a curse..."

Liang Zhi loosened his grip on Old Crow, frowning as he tried to digest this statement.

As a child raised under the influence of science, that line struck him as so utterly absurd it was almost laughable.

"I saw telephones, electric lights, and things like that here. I thought this world had a decent scientific atmosphere, but I didn't expect such ignorance," he muttered.

Old Crow, busy smoothing the feathers Liang Zhi had ruffled, shot him a resentful look. “Perhaps it’s you who are ignorant, making judgments without understanding. The curse of 'science' is something you’ll only comprehend after fulfilling your wish. But I can tell you: the prevailing belief in Dazong is that human technology has developed sufficiently as it is—there’s no need for further progress. And there are reasons for this.”

Liang Zhi fell silent. No matter what, he simply couldn’t see science as a curse.

"You hurt me just now. I demand compensation!" Old Crow said, hands on his hips.

Liang Zhi was speechless. "What kind of compensation do you want?"

"Something tasty! They sell roasted insects downstairs. I want ten skewers!"

Liang Zhi rolled his eyes. He suspected Old Crow had chosen to settle in Erxian Bridge precisely because of those roasted insects.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

In a corner of Erxian Bridge street, a small stall had been set up.

The vendor was Liang Zhi, whose mouth was set in a scowl. With him was an old man who looked to be in his sixties or seventies, helping out.

He hadn’t even gotten used to Dazong’s environment before he was forced to do something shady—not because he was evil by nature, but because he was out of money.

Rent and three days’ worth of meals had completely drained his savings—especially thanks to Old Crow, who had a particular fondness for those expensive roasted insects, costly enough to make Liang Zhi want to punch something.

What little money remained would maybe stretch to a few more days of frugal meals.

Among the wishes listed in the Atrocities Chapter, quite a few would pay him directly upon completion—but most of those were particularly unscrupulous. Liang Zhi had chosen one of the milder ones.

"Wow, this bear is so cute! Sir, how does this game work?" A short-haired girl, sweet-faced, dressed in a pale yellow jacket and a white beret, stood at the stall, her eyes bright with curiosity.

Liang Zhi smiled. "Take this wooden bow; if you hit one of the signs on the rack, you’ll win the corresponding prize. Three shots for ten coins, one shot for three."

The stall was modeled after the popular balloon-shooting game from his previous life, but since there were no balloons here, he used wooden signs of different sizes. The prizes came in four types: a handkerchief, a bar of soap, a giant lollipop, and a large teddy bear.

The girl stared at the bear, her eyes brimming with longing. She paid ten coins and picked up three arrows.

Just as she was about to shoot, Liang Zhi let out a cold chuckle and lifted a cloth curtain.

Beneath it were four items: an old lady’s memorial portrait, an urn, a spirit tablet, and a small incense burner with three sticks of incense burning. These were set right next to the four target signs. And with the poor quality of the wooden bow, it was all too easy to miss the mark.

The old man, as soon as Liang Zhi pulled back the curtain, began to sob pitifully.

"Juan, when you left, why didn’t you take me with you? Now I’m all alone in this cold, lonely world—how am I supposed to go on?"

The girl’s cheeks flushed as she raised the bow. She looked from the old man to the items on the rack, hesitating so long she didn’t dare let the arrow fly.

"This is so wicked—who would come up with such a heartless game?"

She realized it was probably a scam, but every time she raised the bow, the old man fixed her with teary, pleading eyes.

"Miss, are you playing or not? Don’t hold up my business," Liang Zhi prodded, his expression thoroughly detestable.

The wish he was trying to fulfill was called [Moral Blackmail]. The requirement was to use moral coercion to make ten people give up something that belonged to them. Whether the girl refused to shoot or deliberately missed, it counted toward his goal.

Her pale fists clenched, cracks spreading in the wooden bow. She took a deep breath, teeth gritted audibly, then threw the bow down and stormed off.

"You scoundrel, just you wait!"

Liang Zhi picked up the bow, eyeing the handprint she’d left. He sucked in a sharp breath, but couldn’t help muttering, "If you can’t play, just say so. Damaging the equipment on top of it—business is getting harder these days."

The girl, now a dozen meters away, nearly tripped in her anger, then dashed off at a run.

After she left, Liang Zhi casually handed the old man five coins, which the old man pocketed with a grin.

The old man’s surname was Zhao; he lived on the first floor. Over the past few days, Liang Zhi often saw him sitting in the sunlight outside, pen in hand, scribbling away, his face perpetually melancholy—he’d never seen any children visit.

Liang Zhi needed to understand this world, but information from Old Crow was often unreliable, so he sometimes chatted with Old Zhao. Over time, they’d grown familiar. When Liang Zhi proposed the stall partnership, Old Zhao agreed readily—after all, the memorial portrait and the spirit tablet were all fakes.

It wasn’t entirely aboveboard to have an old man play such a role, but Old Zhao seemed to enjoy himself, so Liang Zhi had no qualms.

In this way, amid the scoldings of passersby, Liang Zhi and Old Zhao completed seven rounds, with Old Zhao’s acting growing ever more refined.

Just as his wish was about to be fulfilled, trouble arrived.

Several men in gray uniforms were heading their way.

"Run, those are municipal officials," Old Zhao hissed urgently, then snatched up the big teddy bear and slipped into the crowd.

Liang Zhi’s teeth ached. In Erxian Bridge, you generally had to pay a market management fee to set up a stall. Most street vendors didn’t, unless someone reported them; otherwise, the officials turned a blind eye. Liang Zhi had neither the funds nor the intention to stay long, so he hadn’t paid.

Now, clutching his box of giant lollipops, he dove into the crowd, using his glasses’ ability to subtly alter his appearance.

By the time the officials arrived, the stall was deserted. They cursed and confiscated what was left. The other vendors cheered—the notorious scam stall was finally gone, saving Erxian Bridge’s reputation. A few with poor business, however, were already thinking of copying Liang Zhi’s trick.

Hidden in the crowd, Liang Zhi’s face was grim.

The officials had come directly for his stall—clearly, someone had reported him. He had only thirty-five coins left, enough for two or three more days at best, and no capital to 'do business' again.

"It must have been that strong girl. She told me to just wait, and next time she sees me, she’ll do something bad to me."

He glanced at the twenty giant lollipops in his arms and steeled himself.

"Looks like it’s time to implement Plan B."