The villagers were overjoyed and rushed to the village center to divide the meat.

In the past, the Village Chief would preside over such matters, yet the villagers would disorderly divide portions themselves. Leftover scraps would be haphazardly tossed to Gao Yiye’s doorstep before fleeing—utter chaos. Some would even sneak an extra share.

But since Thirty-Two arrived at Gaojia Village, its once-disorganized state began transforming into a structured community.

The villagers no longer divided the meat disorderly. Instead, they looked expectantly at Gao Yiye and Thirty-Two.

Gao Yiye stood nearby, serving as the overseer. As Saint Lady, her presence warned villagers that the Deity watched their every move, discouraging any mischief.

Thirty-Two managed the specifics, waving his hand to instruct: “Gao Chuwu, you handle the cleaver and slicing. Bring the scale to weigh the cuts…”

“Gao Laba, receive two liang of pork.” Thirty-Two noted each name on paper, marking a check once received.

“Wang Er, received.”

“Zhong Datou, received.”

“Zheng Aniu, received.”

“Gao Sanwa, received.”

…

Over a hundred villagers lined up to receive their portions. Only afterward did Thirty-Two distribute shares to Gao Chuwu, Gao Yiye, and his own household. Saving allocation for the “management” last showcased their spirit of selflessness.

Once all villagers had their shares, only the two sculptors remained.

Anxious after waiting, the sculptors felt slighted—everyone else had received meat except them. They wondered why Saint Lady and the steward had kept them till last.

Gao Yiye beckoned them forward. They scurried eagerly to her. “Saint Lady, what do you bid us do?”

Gao Yiye replied, “The Deity decrees all remaining pork be rewarded to you.”

Both sculptors froze, eyes wide. They turned to the leftover meat. Though over a hundred villagers had taken two liang each, the remainder still filled two washbasins—dozens of pounds at least.

Gao Chuwu grinned and cleaved the enormous loin into two halves. “Take it. One half each.”

The sculptors stared. “So… so much? All for us? Others only got two liang…”

Gao Yiye explained, “The Deity is exceedingly pleased with your carving of the Victorious Fighting Buddha statue. This meat is your special reward.”

Overwhelmed, the sculptors prostrated and kowtowed fervently. “We thank the Deity! We thank the Deity!”

Thirty-Two lowered his voice sternly. “Henceforth, both of you must strive harder in serving the Deity.”

“Of course! We’ll serve wholeheartedly!”

Previously hired by the wealthy to craft temple Buddhas, their rewards had been meager—scraps of food or copper coins. Never had they imagined receiving such an abundance of pork.

Even if uneaten, this meat could be traded for goods—an enormous fortune during famine. Nothing held value like food in these years.

But… fresh pork would spoil within days.

They shifted awkwardly. “Might we… possibly have…”

Thirty-Two smiled. “Take these two salt bags to cure the meat.”

Ecstatic, they thanked Third Lady, hoisted their pork and salt bags, and bolted toward their makeshift hut: “Wife! First-born! Second-born! We’ve struck gold! Ha! We’ve struck gold!”

Not long after, the two piled up pine branches behind the village and began smoking cured meat. As everyone knows, the smell of smoking cured meat made all the surrounding people green with envy.

The other villagers craned their necks, thinking secretly: When will I perform a meritorious deed for the Deity to receive such extravagant rewards?

Such is the nature of human desire!

When starving, we crave mere morsels. But once fed, we yearn for more than others possess, and driven by such ambition, we endlessly strive to climb higher.

Of course, some prefer to give up.

For instance, Zheng Daniu from Zhengjia Village felt no envy toward the two sculptors smoking cured meat. Not only had he eaten his fill, but he’d also consumed two liang of pork. Patting his round belly in great contentment, he mused: Why strive so hard just to climb higher now that everyone’s fed? Why not just lie down and rest?

Only…

That “happy fat water” he drank last time brought such joy. He longed to taste it again, but there was none left now.

Oh no. Unable to just lie idle, I crave the Deity’s reward! I want that happy fat water!

Springing up like a carp leaping from water, Zheng Daniu grabbed his axe and dashed out of Gaojia Village. With the last sliver of sunlight illuminating the mountains, he charged into the woods, searching wildly. Before long, he found a sturdy, premium tree.

He swung his giant axe vigorously. Fuelled by his full belly, thump, thump, thump—the massive tree soon crashed down. Cutting off the best section, a hefty log nearly two meters long, he found it too heavy to carry. Instead, he dragged, rolled, and pried it with great effort to bring it down the mountain.

Pushing the log, he rushed excitedly to Gao Yiye. “Saint Lady, Saint Lady! Look what I brought from the mountains. Perfect for carving the next statue! I’m useful, right?”

Gao Yiye had no idea whether it was useful, but after listening to the voice from the sky, she smiled. “Zheng Daniu, you’ve done well. The Deity praised you.”

Zheng Daniu beamed with joy.

Gao Yiye added: “The Deity says you may be rewarded with—”

“I—this humble one ventures a small request,” Zheng Daniu interjected hastily.

Gao Yiye: “?”

Zheng Daniu: “I seek no meat. I only wish… to drink another sip… just one sip of that happy fat water. Just a sip, no more.”

Gao Yiye paused briefly, then laughed: “The Deity says that’s fine. Do you own a washbasin? Hurry, fetch it.”

Zheng Daniu had arrived from Zhengjia Village with nothing, but he carved a wooden basin shortly after settling in. Hearing this, he rushed home at once and set his washbasin on the ground.

To Li Daoxuan’s eyes, the washbasin measured merely 3 millimeters in diameter—pitifully small. Using a needle tip, he drew a tiny amount from his cola bottle, then gently pushed the syringe. A single drop fell…

Just one drop filled Zheng Daniu’s basin to the brim, spilling over the edges.

“It’s overflowing! So much is wasted!” cried Zheng Daniu in distress. “Ah, no… spare happy fat water seeping into the ground! Heavens… lost in the soil!”

Thirty-Two yelled beside him: “Stop howling! You’ve got a basinful! What’s spilling matter? Now scram!”

Li Daoxuan suppressed a chuckle. Two thoughts formed clearly in his mind:

One: A grove lay not far beyond the village, hidden just beyond his view.

Two: Villagers must bring their own containers for rewards to conserve resources. This way, he wouldn’t cause such excess waste with each gift.