Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [79]

Qiqi didn’t say a word. It was as if she were listening to someone else’s story.

Everything the adeptus had said felt so distant—so distant that it had all long since been forgotten.

And truthfully, she had no desire to remember. For her, forgetting that pain was probably a blessing.

It was only because Hu Tao wanted to know her origins—only because she didn’t want Hu Tao to “send her off”—that she now knew her past again.

But that was alright. She’d forget it again soon.

She was still just Qiqi, the little zombie from Bubu Pharmacy.

“So that’s what happened…” Hu Tao murmured, her tone low.

Mountain Shaper had described it simply, but even that was enough to imagine the pain Qiqi must have gone through.

Wandering into an adeptal domain by accident, hiding in a cave with an injured leg, caught in the middle of a battle… and in the moment before death, awakening a Vision.

The most heartbreaking part was—she’d only been a child.

It was hard to fathom how frightened, how helpless, how desperate she must have felt…

Jiang Bai didn’t speak. He only looked at Qiqi.

From the moment he learned she was a zombie, he’d sensed there was more to it—and now, that hunch was confirmed.

No one becomes half-human, half-corpse without enduring something extraordinary.

Then what about him? What had led to his memory loss?

“Adeptus, have you ever seen me before?” he asked, pointing to himself.

He wasn’t sure if these adepti knew anything about him.

Mountain Shaper studied his face, then slowly shook his head.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

There was no trace of Jiang Bai in his memories.

Of course, it was possible they had crossed paths before—just in passing, like strangers on a road—never leaving any impression.

“I see…” Jiang Bai nodded.

“If even the Adeptus hasn’t seen you, your backstory must be even more complicated than Qiqi’s…” Hu Tao said, frowning as she rested her chin on her palm.

Mountain Shaper’s curiosity was piqued—just a little.

“Oh? And what makes him special?”

“You may not know, Adeptus…” Hu Tao began explaining Jiang Bai’s origins.

“I see… Returned from death? That is curious indeed…”

“Have you ever heard of something like this happening before?”

“The people sealed in amber are somewhat similar,” Mountain Shaper replied. “But only somewhat. They are still living—trapped in a suspended state by the adeptal arts infused within the amber. Not truly dead, nor revived.”

Hu Tao recalled the condition Jiang Bai had been in when they’d pulled him from the river. “Before he woke up, he wasn’t breathing. No heartbeat. His body was cold to the touch. Could that be a similar state of suspended time?”

“It’s possible.”

Mountain Shaper looked at Jiang Bai and said, “Hold out your hand.”

Not knowing what to expect, Jiang Bai did as he was told.

Mountain Shaper placed one of his wings in Jiang Bai’s palm, and in that moment of contact, gently probed through his body.

“There’s no trace of adeptal energy within you—it must’ve been something else. However…”

Mountain Shaper’s voice shifted slightly. “However, I do sense a chill within your meridians… a cold current running through your system.”

“Cold?” Jiang Bai blinked. That sounded familiar—didn’t Baizhu mention something like that too?

“Why would there be cold energy in his body?”

“I cannot say,” Mountain Shaper replied, shaking his head.

Hu Tao’s brow furrowed. “Will the cold affect his health?”

“It shouldn’t.”

Mountain Shaper wasn’t a healer. All he could sense was the presence of the chill—nothing more.

Jiang Bai hadn’t noticed any real discomfort. His body temperature was just a little lower than average.

Then again, most of the people he spent time with didn’t have a “normal” body temperature anyway, so he never noticed the difference.

Since it wasn’t harmful, Hu Tao relaxed, her brow smoothing out.

“There are ways to suspend time,” Mountain Shaper continued, “but most require external support—such as the amber I use. Once encased, the lifeform inside enters a state of stillness, remaining that way until the amber is shattered.”

“However, time can’t remain frozen indefinitely. If it’s left too long, the mind will fade—and what’s left is no different from a corpse.”

“Will they still wake up then?” Hu Tao mused.

“No.” Mountain Shaper shook his head. “That’s why I periodically release those sealed within the amber.”

With that, Mountain Shaper flapped his wings and soared off, leaving the three of them alone on the mountaintop.

Hu Tao turned to Qiqi. Seeing the nervous look in the little zombie’s eyes, she reached out and gave her a gentle pat on the head.

“I told you I’m not going to send you off, and I meant it. If you run into trouble, come find me. I may just be the humble master of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, but in Liyue, I do have some connections.”

Then her tone shifted as a new thought occurred to her. “Eh, forget it. You’ll probably forget this conversation soon anyway. Once we’re back in Liyue Harbor, I’ll just make the rounds and check in on you from time to time.”

Qiqi: I’d really rather not see you.

She quickly hid behind Jiang Bai, tugging on the hem of his clothes and staring up at him with wide, glassy eyes.

“Qiqi wants to wash her hair.”

Now that everything was done and they’d gotten what they came for—was it finally time for her hair wash?

Jiang Bai froze, face going stiff as he looked into those innocent, crystal-clear eyes.

“…Alright, alright. I’ll wash it for you.”

Wait, didn’t this kid have memory problems?

How has she remembered the hair washing this whole time!?

The three of them made their way down the mountain. Hu Tao plucked a random grass root and stuck it in her mouth, hands laced behind her head, chatting away with Qiqi as they walked.

“I could wash your hair too, y’know. Why’s it gotta be him…”

“Qiqi doesn’t like you,” Qiqi replied flatly, still clinging to Jiang Bai’s clothes and widening the distance between herself and Hu Tao. The words struck with surgical precision.

Hu Tao: ( •̀⤙•́ )

Her cheeks puffed up—then she let the air out with a soft pop.

“That’s okay. I like you, and that’s what matters!”

Jiang Bai very nearly said, Director, one-sided love never ends well!

But then he thought about what would happen if he said that… and wisely kept his mouth shut.

They found a little stream, and Jiang Bai built another makeshift washing bench. Under Hu Tao’s watchful gaze, he began washing Qiqi’s hair.

As he undid the long, purple braid in his hands, a sudden question popped into his head.

“Qiqi… do you lose hair?”

Qiqi brought a tiny finger to her cheek, thinking hard. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t recall anything about that.

“…Probably not?” she answered uncertainly.

Jiang Bai hesitated, unsure whether to proceed.

A corpse had no vitality—so it wasn’t like her hair would grow back. If he messed up and made her go bald from washing her hair… he’d never forgive himself.

“You don’t feel pain, right?”

Qiqi shook her head.

Very carefully, Jiang Bai tugged on a strand of her violet hair. It held firm. Only then did he relax.

Washing Qiqi’s hair was easier than washing Hu Tao’s.

First, her hair was already neatly braided. Long, yes—but not tangled.

Second, Qiqi didn’t micromanage, telling him to scratch here or there every few seconds.

And since she was a zombie, her skin didn’t secrete sweat or oil. A rinse was enough to get rid of any dust clinging to her hair.

She lay quietly on the bench, holding down the talisman on her forehead with both hands, letting Jiang Bai—who had very little experience washing girls’ hair—fumble through the process.

Everyone in the world seems to have come down with something. I’m getting kind of scared…

—

This is a fan translation of 胡桃拿我冲业绩 by 余溯. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!