How You Can Sue Me for My Crimes in Dreams

“I can eat it myself, or I can give it to my family, but I can’t just go around distributing it, and definitely not for free.”

“Unless… I buy it first.”

There’s a rule at the bakery.

Any bread that doesn’t sell by the end of the night, you can eat yourself or take home.

But you absolutely cannot give it away to the public for free!

Why?

Here’s a simple, direct example.

In Xu Huo’s past life, there was a story online about someone who gave away free beef noodle soup. The only condition was that the elderly had to bring their own bowls to get a free meal.

But sadly…

Despite this one simple request—one that was even stated clearly to her face—an old woman showed up without a bowl.

So what happened? Did she go home to get her bowl?

No.

Because she hadn’t brought a bowl, she flipped over the entire free noodle soup stall.

If the bakery gave away food for free…

On the one hand, you could argue it saves food and helps more poor people survive.

But what if you look at it from a different angle?

What if someone gets sick from the bread you gave them? Who’s responsible then?

If everyone knew the bakery gave out free bread at night, would anyone still pay for it during the day?

What if the person who comes for free bread is like that old woman from the noodle soup story?

Or what happens when… getting something for free becomes an expectation?

“When getting something for free becomes an expectation, a spontaneous act of kindness is no longer spontaneous.”

Master Du’e’s expression was placid as he made his next move on the board.

“The one day the bakery *doesn’t* hand out free bread…”

“…it will be mobbed and attacked.”

“If I use free bread to do a good deed, it’s not really *me* doing the good deed.”

“I’m just shifting the burden onto the bakery. The bakery pays the price while I gain the reputation. Ultimately, I’d just be a thief—a middleman.”

“But if I buy it, even at a discount, the situation is completely different.”

When a good person does one bad thing, they’re seen as irredeemably evil.

But when a bad person does one good thing, they’re hailed as a reformed saint, a prodigal son’s return that’s more precious than gold.

It’s a simple principle.

Even if it’s a bit convoluted to think about.

Zhang Niu found himself admiring the monk more and more.

The man was perceptive, not dogmatic, and understood the need for flexibility.

“The way you talk, I feel like I should build a temple in your honor.”

“What good is a temple? It’s just a place where you spend money on clay statues, and I’d just be staring at a pile of mud to satisfy my own spiritual ego.”

“Besides, I’ve already renounced my vows.”

As he spoke, Du’e paused, reached out his hand, and made the final move.

“Check.”

“Checkmate. You’ve lost, Donor Zhang.”

Zhang Niu froze, his attention finally snapping back to the board.

He then chuckled in spite of himself. “So, what do you think I should do?”

Du’e paused. After a moment of silence, he said:

“Perhaps you could try taking the leftovers from your New Year’s Eve dinner and going for a walk.”

Leftovers from the New Year’s Eve dinner…

Zhang Niu pondered for a moment. He couldn’t figure out the meaning behind it, but he nodded anyway.

“Alright.”

….

….

Xu Huo and the others said their goodbyes to Master Du’e.

Wang Chao and Zhang Niu went home.

Xu Huo left Niuniu to celebrate the New Year there for the time being, then went with Chu Xi to Chu Linhai’s home.

Chu Linhai’s home was a large, single-story apartment he had bought with his military discharge pay. He and his wife had lived there ever since they got married.

「Eight-thirty in the evening.」

BOOM!!!

A brilliant firework blossomed in the sky.

The dark night was painted with vibrant colors, and a festive atmosphere filled the air.

Inside, the house was decorated with couplets, banners, and colorful lanterns. Everyone, dressed in bright red, was happily squeezed in front of the television, their laughter and chatter filling the room with a lively buzz.

Chu Xi hummed a song in the kitchen as she prepared the New Year’s Eve feast. Xu Huo was beside her, helping out while engaging in some playful bickering with Chu Linhai.

Outside the window, a constant stream of fireworks bloomed across the sky in a dazzling, colorful display.

…

…

「Nine-thirty in the evening.」

As the New Year’s festivities began to wind down, and everyone had shut their doors tight to stay in their warm homes, gathered happily before the TV to watch the Spring Festival Gala…

A voice suddenly broke the quiet.

“It’s so late. Where are you going?”

Inside the residential complex, Zhang Niu turned to look at his puzzled wife. In his hands, he held a plate of leftovers from their New Year’s Eve dinner.

“Just going out to take a look.”

Zhang Niu answered casually before heading out into the wind and snow.

His wife started to follow, but he ushered her back inside.

Monk Du’e had given him a few addresses.

The addresses themselves weren’t strange: a park, the area around the complex, or a construction site.

They all seemed perfectly normal.

‘What was so special about these places?’

Du’e hadn’t explained, which was why Zhang Niu had come to find out for himself.

At this moment, in the park.

Zhang Niu sat beside a concrete pipe, watching the snow fall around him and the distant fireworks exploding in the sky.

He had been walking for a long time but hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.

“Tsk. The food’s gone cold. Looks like I’m not going to find anything today.”

Zhang Niu exhaled, his warm breath turning into a clearly visible white puff in the cold air.

He glanced at the dish in his hands. It was covered with a layer of white snow, and ice crystals were forming underneath. It was already so cold it was freezing his hands.

After a moment’s thought, he placed the plate of meat on the ground. Then, he slowly walked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Zhang Niu’s figure vanished from the park.

The snow kept falling.

There wasn’t another soul in sight. The raucous sound of firecrackers echoed strangely in the deathly quiet, empty park.

Until…

SCRAPE~

A faint scraping sound broke the silence.

The next moment.

A head peeked out from one of the stacked hollow pipes. The grimy face scanned the surroundings warily before its owner climbed out onto the ground.

Then came a second head.

Two children had been hiding in the pipe. They wore thin clothes and were shivering uncontrollably in the freezing snow.

They scanned their surroundings one last time, then snatched up the plate of chicken from the ground and began to wolf it down, stuffing the food into their mouths with ravenous hunger.