One Tap on the Wooden Fish, and the Capital’s Big Shot’s Soul Nearly Flees in Terror

I’m the famous Buddhist girl of Beijing’s socialite circles. I usually steep goji berries in my thermos and keep a “Don’t get angry” sticker on my phone case.

Rumor has it I’m so compassionate I wouldn’t even step on an ant.

That is, until the young heir of Beijing’s most powerful circle shoved a power drill in my face.

Everyone was waiting for me to cry and beg for mercy.

Instead, I calmly put down my prayer beads and stopped the drill bit with one hand.

In the deathly silence, I raised my eyes to look at him. “Sir, you’re disturbing me while I’m playing the wooden fish.”

The heir flashed a crazed smile. “I love putting difficult demons like you to rest.”

Later, eyes bloodshot, he cornered me in the Buddhist hall. “What happened to your Buddha’s compassion?”

I gave the golden-threaded nanmu wooden fish a little shake. “The Buddha says that when dealing with mad dogs, physical salvation is recommended.”