Bab 68: Volume 2, Chapter 6: Making Conversation out of Nothing

He raised an eyebrow, looking like he was about to get angry, but he held back.

"That day—if you knew it was me, would you still have saved me?"

"Are you questioning my character?" I scoffed provocatively.

"You hate me, don't you?" He was surprisingly calm.

"Yeah, you're pretty self-aware; not completely worthless," I stated bluntly. "I hate you, but I would still save you, because a life is a life, how can I just watch someone die? I'd save a stray cat or dog, too. Besides, saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-storied stupa, I've accumulated good karma, and the Buddha will bless me with a good husband."

He nodded solemnly, as if he took my jokingly cruel words seriously. Looking at him, I suddenly felt pity; he seemed rather pitiful, unable to think of any way to express his gratitude other than offering money. He was truly impoverished, with nothing but money—no sincerity, no ease, no softness—