Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [172]

Everything was progressing smoothly—so smoothly, in fact, that it far exceeded everyone’s expectations.

The story had become a hit among Liyue’s storytellers, drawing full houses with every performance.

With its blend of adventure, romance, mystery, and danger, not to mention the lore surrounding Dragonspine’s history, the tale’s appeal was almost excessive.

And since the book hadn’t yet been officially released—only a few copies in circulation—most people had no idea what happened next. Audiences were practically scratching at their seats in anticipation, showing up at the teahouses every day like clockwork to hear the next installment.

Thanks to this book, several well-known storytellers in Liyue had seen their popularity—and their pay—rise significantly.

Fortunately, the Feiyun Commerce Guild had kept tight control over how much the storytellers revealed each day. This prevented any runaway competition where the entire story would be spoiled before the book even hit the shelves.

Hu Tao and Xingqiu, both sharp-minded when it came to business, hadn’t stoked the buzz for half a month for nothing.

Right at the height of the hype, Feiyun Commerce partnered with various teahouses, launching a sales campaign for Snowy Tales immediately after each storytelling session.

With two weeks of anticipation built up, the launch practically exploded. Everyone who came to hear the story wanted a copy—by the end of the afternoon, every single book in stock had sold out.

Seeing the sales skyrocket, Hu Tao wasted no time arranging a second print run.

The next batch wouldn’t be sold through storytelling events, but distributed to bookstores like any other title. People who wanted to read it could just buy a copy directly. They also planned to work with merchants who specialized in foreign trade to bring the book to other nations.

Given how wildly successful it had become in Liyue, Hu Tao didn’t even need to pitch it—plenty of merchants were already lining up, eager to buy exclusive distribution rights for their own regions.

Inspired by this marketing triumph, Xingqiu briefly considered having the storytellers perform his Autumn Silhouettes and Sword Chronicles too. But after a bit of thought, he gave up on the idea.

First off, his book wasn’t exactly mainstream. Its themes—starseas, flying ships, and other such fantastical ideas—would probably go straight over most storytellers’ heads, let alone the audience’s.

Second, he’d gone to great lengths to buy up all the Liyue-region copies of the book precisely so a certain few acquaintances wouldn’t get their hands on it. Letting storytellers perform it now would completely blow his cover.

And so, for various reasons, Autumn Silhouettes and Sword Chronicles was left to gather dust at home.

Xingqiu sighed dramatically. Why can’t anyone appreciate my work?

At the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Hu Tao was curled up in a hanging chair, nose buried in a book.

“Didn’t expect Xingqiu’s book to be this interesting!” she muttered, thoroughly engrossed.

The worldbuilding was unique, the ideas wildly imaginative. It was just a shame that the genre didn’t resonate with most readers in Liyue.

Jiang Bai strolled into her courtyard, humming a little tune. Spotting her so absorbed in her reading, he crept closer out of curiosity to peek over her shoulder.

Lately, he’d been enjoying a rather leisurely life—either wandering around Liyue or pestering Zhongli for martial arts lessons.

Zhongli didn’t look the type to fight—elegant, poised, like a refined scholar. But just as Hu Tao had said, he was very capable. Knowledgeable in all things ancient and modern, he could speak insightfully about virtually any weapon.

The Snow-Tombed Starsilver was a rare, top-tier greatsword. Thanks to the will once embedded in it, Jiang Bai could now swing it with ease, slicing through snow and wind alike—even in blizzards, it carved a clear path ahead.

Only problem? The weapon was incredible… but the wielder, not so much.

Such a fine blade, yet Jiang Bai had no form, no technique. Hu Tao couldn’t bear to watch and promptly ordered him to learn proper swordsmanship. Jiang Bai, realizing this wasn’t sustainable, started pestering Zhongli for training.

Luckily, he was a quick learner. After some time, his movements finally began to resemble something decent.

Besides sword training, he’d spent his downtime activating numerous teleport waypoints—anything visible from the road, really. It made getting around much easier.

And every time he left the parlor, he’d keep an eye out for anything remotely valuable. Occasionally, people came by with his flyers, looking to book services. All this meant his once-empty coin pouch was now satisfyingly full.

And when there’s mora in your pocket, how can you not spend it?

Which was exactly why he’d come to show off to Hu Tao.

Jiang Bai crept up behind her, leaned in close to her ear, and—seeing she hadn’t noticed—suddenly said in a loud voice:

“Director, whatcha reading?”

Startled by the sudden noise so close to her, Hu Tao jolted, nearly smacking him in the face with her book on instinct.

“When did you get here? Why didn’t I hear you?”

“You were too into your book, Director!” Jiang Bai grinned, refusing to admit he’d done it on purpose.

Hu Tao rolled her eyes, clearly seeing through him.

Not hiding what she was reading, she closed the book and showed him the cover. “Xingqiu’s Autumn Silhouettes and Sword Chronicles.”

She’d been wanting to sit down and read it properly for ages, but things kept getting in the way. Now she was finally nearing the end.

But that presented a problem. “Too bad I’m almost done with Volume One… and I only bought the first one.”

“Then let’s hit the bookstore and buy the next volume—do some window shopping while we’re at it,” Jiang Bai suggested.

Hu Tao had just finished a long reading session and felt like stretching her legs anyway. “Sounds good! Let’s see if they’ve got Volume Two.”

She popped back into her room to put the book away and reemerged about half an hour later in a fresh outfit.

Lately, the weather in Liyue Harbor had been colder than usual.

She’d changed into a soft blue robe with a white fur collar, which dangled two fluffy pom-poms that bounced as she walked.

Her skirt—a matching mamianqun—fell to her calves. On her feet were fur-trimmed boots in the same cool tones.

Instead of her usual twin ponytails, she’d tucked her hair under a cozy hat, adorned with two red plum blossoms that matched the sash around her waist perfectly.

Altogether, she looked nothing like her usual free-spirited self. Instead, she resembled a refined, well-read young lady.

That is… as long as she didn’t speak.

“So, how do I look in my new outfit?” Hu Tao twirled, clearly fishing for compliments.

Jiang Bai coughed lightly, trying to hide the faint redness at the tips of his ears. “If I’m being honest… the outfit itself is just okay.”

Seeing Hu Tao’s brows begin to furrow, he quickly added, “But the moment it’s worn by you, Director, it’s completely transformed! Like a swift steed meeting a discerning eye—it finally reveals its true worth. I’m at a loss for words trying to describe your beauty!”

Hu Tao’s cheeks flushed at the compliment. She mumbled, “What kind of weird metaphor is that…”

Who compares a person and an outfit to a thousand-li horse and its judge!?

—

T/N: heh our boy does

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!