Before long, replies began trickling in for Yun Zhaozhao:
[Be right there! Whatever you do, don't kill the hostage! What did the braised beef ever do wrong? It's innocent!]
[Remember to tear it by hand. It's more tender that way.]
[Just braised beef? Why do I remember you telling us last time there'd be hawthorn wine too?]
When Yun Zhaozhao saw the last message, she could only marvel. That was a foodie's memory for you. If you asked him what exactly had been discussed at the Taoist conference that day, he probably couldn't name a single thing. But if you asked what else she had promised them besides braised beef, they could probably remember every punctuation mark.
Yun Zhaozhao obligingly took a few close-up photos of the hawthorn wine and sent them to her friends.
Thanks to those close-ups of braised beef and hawthorn wine, Clear Breeze Temple welcomed several of her Daoist friends for the first time early the following morning.
The one closest to Yun Zhaozhao was the Daoist who had sat next to her at the conference and told her to clear her mind and curb her desires. His Daoist name was much like his catchphrase: Daoist Qingxin.
By now, Yun Zhaozhao had figured out a pattern in Taoist naming. Whether it was Jingting or Qingxin, they named themselves after whatever they lacked most.
Take Qingxin, for example. When he first met Yun Zhaozhao, he had acted like an enlightened monk, constantly talking about clearing the mind and curbing desires. In reality, though, Daoist Qingxin had eaten more of the braised beef she brought to the conference than anyone else.
Even now, he was the only Daoist present drinking alcohol. Truly, wine and meat passed through the gut while Buddha remained in the heart.
Fortunately, Clear Breeze Temple didn't have that many rules to begin with. Besides, these Daoists had been invited as friends, so there was all the meat and wine they could want.
Daoist Qingxin probably felt embarrassed about eating and drinking for free, because he volunteered as he ate, "Is there anything you need my help with?"
"Nothing much," Yun Zhaozhao said. "But if it's convenient, you could help promote Clear Breeze Temple whenever you get the chance."
Yun Zhaozhao had meant in the future, but Daoist Qingxin took out his phone on the spot. "Promotion? No problem. I'll post about Clear Breeze Temple's great wine and meat on my video channel right now."
Yun Zhaozhao's eyes lit up. "You have a video channel too? I've actually been meaning to set one up for Clear Breeze Temple, but I've been lazy and kept putting it off. By the way, Daoist, what kind of content do you usually post? Chanting scriptures and meditating, or setting up a fortune-telling stall?"
Daoist Qingxin said mysteriously, "Neither. Mostly, I tell my followers ghost stories. Loads of people follow me. I'm practically getting a fan club now."
Yun Zhaozhao: "...????"
Well, honestly, who wouldn't want to hear a Daoist tell ghost stories? Even she wanted to listen.
Chapter 17
Yun Zhaozhao had already been thinking about starting a video channel. Now that Daoist Qingxin had spurred her on, she felt it couldn't wait any longer. As soon as he and the others left, she registered a video account. She kept the name simple: "Clear Breeze Temple Daily Life."
After registering the channel, Yun Zhaozhao downloaded editing software onto her laptop, spent half an hour learning the steps and methods of video editing on the fly, then spent several more hours editing the footage she had previously recorded of Daoist Chang Kong cooking and uploaded it to the account.
Yun Zhaozhao had imagined that once Clear Breeze Temple's food videos went up, even if they didn't quickly attract a flood of likes and comments, they would at least get a little attention. In reality, half a day after the upload, absolutely nothing had happened. It was a tragedy of zero likes, zero saves, and zero comments!
Yun Zhaozhao sighed and, with no regard for her own life, discussed it with Daoist Master Qingfeng. "I feel like there are a few too many food video accounts these days. Just starting a cooking channel probably won't attract viewers anytime soon. Daoist Qingxin told me today that ghost stories are pretty good at drawing followers. How about telling ghost stories while you cook?"
Daoist Chang Kong shot Yun Zhaozhao a sidelong glance and said irritably, "Would telling ghost stories while I cook be enough? How about I dance while cooking and throw in a ghost story too?"
Daoist Chang Kong might usually have an excellent temper, but the more good-natured someone was, the less you could afford to really upset him. The moment he showed the slightest sign of anger, Yun Zhaozhao immediately backed down. "I was just saying. It was a joke..."
Yun Zhaozhao stayed enthusiastic about the channel for a few days and posted fewer than ten videos. When they continued to make no splash, she gradually lost interest and simply handed it over to Jingting.
Why Jingting? Because, comparatively speaking, he had the most free time of anyone at Clear Breeze Temple. Apart from cleaning the temple every day, he spent most of his time with nothing to do.
After handing Clear Breeze Temple's video account over to Jingting, Yun Zhaozhao stopped paying attention to it.
Until Daoist Qingxin later messaged her on WeChat and said, "Your Clear Breeze Temple video account has been doing pretty well lately!"
Only then did Yun Zhaozhao belatedly log into the account's dashboard to take a look. She discovered that, at some point, the account that hadn't had a single follower had somehow amassed nearly a thousand.
A thousand followers might not seem like much, but it was quite good for a new account. At least to Yun Zhaozhao, it was a completely unexpected achievement.
The problem was, despite all those followers, Clear Breeze Temple's daily visitor numbers hadn't increased! So where had these followers come from? And where had they gone?
She called Jingting over to ask, and immediately got her answer.
"Actually, a lot of these followers aren't here for Daoist Chang Kong or our temple's food," Jingting said. "They're here for me."
Yun Zhaozhao didn't quite understand. "What do you mean, they're here for you?"
"Well... you put me in charge of the account, right? So I'd check it whenever, whether I had anything to do or not. Then I saw a follower comment that our temple's food looked awful. Could I let that slide? Absolutely not! So I went after that follower and argued with him until midnight. Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and said he was exhausted and needed sleep, so I arranged to continue the next day. Anyway, as we kept arguing, our channel just kept getting more followers. Now loads of them say I'm their internet mouthpiece and want me to take online commissions to insult people for them. I've been meaning to ask you, actually: should I take those jobs, or should I take those jobs?"
Yun Zhaozhao: "..." I can tell you really want to take those jobs.
Everything Yun Zhaozhao had been taught growing up told her that insulting people was wrong, arguing was wrong, and harmony brought wealth. Yet Jingting had once again demonstrated through his actions that harmony didn't necessarily bring wealth, but arguing certainly did.
Morality on one side, money on the other. The scales in Yun Zhaozhao's heart wavered twice before finally tipping toward money. What a sin, what a sin. Let our Clear Breeze Temple be a very rich but not particularly noble Taoist temple!
"If you really want to take them, go ahead," Yun Zhaozhao said. "But keep your language civil. Don't get our account banned before you've even done a few jobs. Also, won't arguing with people online every day easily cost you merit? How about this? I've seen those merit wooden fish where every tap gives you merit +1, merit +1. Shall I have Daoist Chang Kong make you one too? After you've finished insulting someone, you can tap it in your spare time and earn yourself some merit."
Jingting: "..." I have to say, our temple master really understands self-consolation.
Jingting charged five yuan per online commission, with an extra fee for making the target cry. It was excellent value for money, so orders soon came pouring in.
The first commission Jingting received to insult someone on another person's behalf came from a young woman.
She had gotten her hair done at a salon, but the result was so hideous that everyone around her said she instantly looked ten years older. She went to argue with the hairdresser, only for him to snidely tell her that she was too ugly to pull off such an elegant, sophisticated, upscale hairstyle.
Unable to swallow her anger, the young woman sought out Jingting to vent it for her.
Jingting started a
livestream
on the video channel, connected with the young woman over voice chat, then had her take her phone to the salon to confront the hairdresser.
The hairdresser was quite unhappy to see her return. The first words out of his mouth were, "Why are you here again? Didn't I already tell you? There's nothing wrong with how I did your hair. It looks great on everyone else, really classy. As for why it doesn't look good on you, sometimes I think you need to look at yourself. You can't blame Earth's lack of gravity just because you can't take a shit, can you?..."
Jingting scoffed on the other end of the call. "You're a hairdresser, and you're getting picky about how good-looking your customers are? Your ego's bigger than your whole salon! By your logic, what does a customer have to look like to deserve your lousy skills? Do they have to look like your ugly-ass self?"
The hairdresser: "..."
The young woman beside him: "..." Beautiful!
"When other hairdressers cut hair, they turn trash into treasure and cute girls into beauties," Jingting said. "But you? You turn treasure into trash and cute girls into middle-aged aunties. You really won't do a single thing that qualifies as human decency! What, has nobody told you to go back and practice instead of making a public embarrassment of yourself when you're this bad? You don't have the tools, yet you insist on taking the job. You're an old longevity god eating arsenic-sick of living!"
The hairdresser: "..."
"With skills like yours, your master wouldn't dare admit he ever taught you, for fear you'd leave him unable to show his face in education again. Your ex-girlfriend wouldn't dare admit she ever dated you, for fear you'd become a stain on her life and a criminal record she couldn't shake... Forget people-even a dog passing your shop would have to spit and say, 'Ptooey!'"