“My Goodness score dipped to seventy-nine point nine because I sneezed on a spirit-pigeon without saying bless you—let me carry ten more grain carts!”
Qin Haoran ([Goodness: 80.5/100]) sprinted bare-chested through the swirling morning snow outside the #1 Prime Minister Manor. Steam rose off his muscular shoulders as he hoisted two three-hundred-pound sacks of pearl spirit-rice onto the loading ramp of Tie Niu’s armored sky-transport.
Beside him, Patriarch Xue ([Goodness: 80.5/100]) barked orders to ten thousand burly members of the Yellow-Vest Volunteer Corps.
Every former Blood-Skull mercenary wore a bright neon-yellow charity vest over his winter coat. They formed a mile-long human conveyor belt up Jade-Dragon Ridge, tossing crates of self-heating winter coats, charcoal briquettes, and medical chests into the open cargo holds of thirty Taichu sky-cruisers.
“Move your legs, brothers!” Patriarch Xue roared, checking the glowing morality wrist-mirror strapped to his hairy forearm. “Whoever loads fifty crates before breakfast gets +0.2 Goodness points and an extra ladle of Grandma Chen’s chili oil! If anyone drops a sack of rice in the slush, you’re cleaning the spirit-horse stables for a month!”
Lin Mo stepped out onto the heated white-marble veranda of the #1 Manor, cradling a porcelain cup of hot ginseng tea while Su Wan stood beside him with her jade accounting tablet.
