A house—if this were many, many years in the future, Qiao’er wouldn't have dared to even dream of it. Fortunately, there were no real estate developers in those days, so the prospect of owning a home was not entirely unrealistic.
The green-eyed zombie stayed with Qiao’er in the inn for a few more days. At night, it would go to the docks to load and unload cargo, often bringing back a little something for Qiao’er to eat upon its return. Qiao’er tried to stop it several times; after all, it needed the night hours to absorb spiritual essence. What if this work hindered its cultivation?
The zombie, however, was stubborn and continued to go to the docks every day. Gradually, it began to sense that something was wrong—why did others do less work than it did, yet receive more pay? It didn't know exactly how much less it was being paid (as it couldn't count), but it could see the physical difference in the pile of coins in its hand.
Since it couldn't communicate, it didn't argue. Instead, every time the foreman handed out wages, it would use its speed to surreptitiously snatch a few extra coins. Its movements were so swift that the foreman never noticed. A few days later, when it began experimenting with telekinesis to snatch coins from a distance, the task became even easier. Thus, by the end of each night, between its wages and its "extractions," it earned far more than anyone else.
The foreman was merely left bewildered—why had he been miscounting the money so often lately?
This was the green-eyed zombie’s first job in the world of mortals. It learned to use underhanded tactics, realizing that humans were a cunning species and that those who were honest and stayed in their place would only suffer losses.
When the evening lanterns were first lit, the green-eyed zombie would already be wandering the streets. It watched people building houses, studying intently how these "nests" were put together.
Feeling that the inn was safe, it would leave Qiao’er behind, heading out early at dusk. It would return at night with food for her and give her all the remaining money. It did not consume the food of the mortal world, nor did it care how Qiao’er spent the coins.
The docks, however, were far from a peaceful place. The loaders often brawled over business. Initially, the two factions were divided: one side wore blue and handled cargo at Piers One and Two, while the other wore black and handled Piers Three and Four.
As time passed, friction arose. The black-clad workers felt that Piers Three and Four received fewer ships than One and Two. They demanded to handle Piers One and Three to ensure fairness.
Naturally, the blue-clad workers refused. "You want to switch just because you say so? Where’s our dignity in that?"
Eventually, the matter was settled through violence. The young, strong, and fierce fighters occupied Piers One and Two, while the old, weak, and sickly were relegated to Piers Three and Four.
Even so, the two sides continued to bicker over business. After the green-eyed zombie joined, the conflict intensified. It was incredibly strong and fast, leading most employers to specifically request its services. It had no name, but humans have always been resourceful; they simply gave it a nickname: Green Eyes.
It was vivid, descriptive, and simple.
After a few nights, the green-eyed zombie realized that whenever someone said "Green Eyes," they were calling for it. It needed to earn money to provide for its "toy," and besides, it found the human world rather interesting. Thus, no matter who called or what they needed moved, it would go to them immediately.
This caused two problems. First, its own foreman was dissatisfied—he felt he should take half of whatever the employers paid the zombie directly. Second, the other loaders at Piers One and Two were furious. The zombie was too fast and too strong; with it around, countless others would be left with nothing to eat.
A group gathered to plot. They considered throwing a black sack over its head and giving it a beating, but after some discussion, they feared they couldn't win a fight against it.
Fortunately, human ingenuity is boundless. They came up with a wicked plan: lure it out to sea and dump it!
So, one night, a ship requested its help to unload cargo, but claimed they had to sail to another location first. The zombie didn't understand their words, but when they pulled it onto the boat, it followed.
A land-dwelling zombie had never seen the ocean. It looked around the deck with curiosity the entire way. The conspirators stayed in the cabin; since the zombie couldn't understand them, they didn't bother hiding, speaking loudly and boastfully.
About eight hours later, as dawn approached, the green-eyed zombie signaled that it wanted to go back. The men couldn't understand its gestures and continued to coax it: "We’re almost there, don't worry, don't worry."
The boat eventually slowed to a stop before a deserted island. The men gave a demonstration, gesturing for it to go and move a large tree. The zombie stepped off the boat, and almost instantly, the vessel pushed off from the shore and began its return journey.
The green-eyed zombie waited on the shore for a while. Seeing the sky grow lighter, it knew it couldn't wait any longer. It could have sunk to the bottom of the sea to hide from the daylight, but it clearly intended to return to the inn.
Before heading back, it decided to see if it could swim. However, its body was far too heavy. The moment it hit the water—*plop*—it sank straight to the bottom.
After several attempts and a lot of useless splashing, it realized that land zombies truly cannot swim. Could this be the origin of the *Hanba*? (Hanba: *Give me a break!* =_=)
After several descents, it sank quite deep and discovered that the seabed was actually a wonderful place, rich in yin energy. The spiritual essence gathered there without dissipating, making it far superior to the mountains.
It was still early. It flew away from the island and searched for a long time before finding an old man selling soy milk and steamed buns. It bought some food to bring back to Qiao’er.
By the time the first light of dawn appeared, it had already returned to the inn. Qiao’er had been worried sick, only finding peace when she saw it return. Its clothes were soaking wet, so Qiao’er quickly found a clean set to change it into.
Its memory was exceptional; it still remembered the movements for dressing itself, so it took the clothes and put them on.
It lay down under the bed, and after eating, Qiao’er slid under the bed as well, resting against it. Before sleeping, the zombie would "talk" with Qiao’er. It wasn't actual talking, but rather writing characters. Qiao’er worked hard to memorize every word it taught her to make their communication easier.
Gradually, it began to ask silly questions just like Qiao’er did, such as what she had eaten that day or what she had done in the room.
Qiao’er always answered seriously. Thus, even the most trivial matters were enough for the human and the zombie to "chat" for a long time.
The next night, when it went back to work at the docks, the conspirators were stunned. Fortunately, the zombie didn't realize they had tried to harm it; it continued to take jobs everywhere, maintaining its honest and hardworking appearance.
Slowly, it became famous at the docks. Whenever cargo arrived, employers would shout into the crowd, "Green Eyes! Hey, Green Eyes, come unload this!"
It developed a habit: whenever it heard someone call that name, it knew there was work to be done.
After working like this for a while, the other dockworkers couldn't take it anymore. Loading and unloading was supposed to be slow, meticulous work. Most people working under a foreman were paid by the hour, earning about eighteen coins a night. If they worked during the day and took overtime at night, they could earn about forty.
These people were purely "grinding the clock," dragging out their time. If a job could be stretched over a day and a night, they would never finish it in one.
With the zombie’s speed, others were naturally unhappy—it was cutting off everyone else's livelihood.
Consequently, those harboring resentment were not few. Finally, one night, the foreman of Pier One couldn't take it anymore. He consulted with a dozen of his loaders and decided to teach this arrogant brat a lesson!
As usual, the green-eyed zombie wandered the streets after work to buy food for Qiao’er. Since discovering the abundant spiritual energy on the seabed, it had been considering building a "nest" near this seaside fishing village.
Beneath the sea, it could absorb the essence of the earth day or night, but its "toy" couldn't stay underwater during the day.
Therefore, it had to place her somewhere it could watch over her at all times, lest she be stolen.
Human nest-building was a highly technical skill, far more complex than a zombie’s burial mound. Even with its incredible learning ability, it couldn't master it immediately.
Late that night, it was observing a human nest under construction. In the darkness, several humans walked up behind it. Their movements were much lighter than usual, but its hearing was so sensitive that even their breathing was clear.
There were many of them, and their scents were familiar. With one sniff, it knew they were the loaders from the docks. Strictly speaking, humans were a type of food for zombies, so it was exceptionally sensitive to each person's scent.
The men stayed hidden in the shadows. The green-eyed zombie assumed they were also there to observe the nest-building and paid them no mind, continuing to curiously touch the construction materials.
When its cultivation had been shallow, it had poked at swallows' nests for fun and dug out mouse holes, but the structure of a human nest was clearly much larger than those—even much larger than the humans themselves.
The owners had put away some of the materials for the night. The zombie walked back and forth on the foundation, measuring the depth and width of the pits with great seriousness.
The men in the shadows couldn't wait any longer. After a quick whisper, they decided to rush out and beat it first!
It wasn't that the green-eyed zombie failed to react; it simply didn't know what these humans were trying to do. When they threw a black cloth sack over its head, it thought they were playing a game.
Someone behind it swung a wooden club at its body. The practice of "clobbering from behind" truly had a long history.
The club, as thick as a wrist, struck its body, but the zombie felt no pain. After being hit a few times, it actually found it amusing.
Qiao’er often hit it playfully like this, though she didn't use a stick. It quickly tore the sack off its head and snatched a club from one of the men’s hands. It studied the object curiously for a moment, then held the club upright and tentatively tapped its own forehead with it. With a *crack*, the club snapped in two.
the men recoiled in fear. What was more terrifying was that it grabbed another club and tapped the dazed "Thug A" on the head. This time, it used much less force; it was raising Qiao’er and knew that humans were fragile creatures, so this was just a playful tap.
The thug saw a flash of double vision before his head began to bleed.
There was a long silence. When the zombie reached for another club, the crowd finally snapped out of it and fled in all directions, leaving a dozen wooden clubs on the ground.
As it turned out, the green-eyed zombie was truly honest. It thought it had broken their toys, which was why they wouldn't play with it anymore. It picked up all the clubs from the ground, intending to return them when it went to work the next night.
When Qiao’er learned what had happened, she lectured it repeatedly: "That’s called a 'fight'! It’s an act of mutual aggression between humans! It’s not a game!"
The green-eyed zombie became very angry: *Audacious humans! How dare they try to hit a zombie!!*
***
