Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [175]

Jiang Bai had wanted to grow Sweet Flowers for a long time now. The problem was, he didn’t live in a private courtyard—just one of the rooms in the communal complex where the yiguan (ceremonial staff) stayed.

Even the bathhouse was shared. If he didn’t feel like bathing in the public area, the best he could do was use Geo to sculpt a large tub and haul hot water into his room.

It was… less than convenient.

“I mean, it’s doable,” Hu Tao said. “You’re a spirit ferryman now, and the only one we’ve got. Everyone was really happy with how the Cartis job went, so assigning you your own courtyard shouldn’t be a problem.

“But I’m not sure which ones are still vacant. We’ll have to check when we get back.”

There were quite a few people working at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. And while the grounds were big, private courtyards weren’t given out freely.

At present, only a few had solo quarters—Hu Tao herself, the guest consultants, Uncle Ge, and a handful of senior yiguan who’d worked there for over a decade and held key positions.

The rest all stayed in gender-segregated communal courtyards.

“No problem!”

Jiang Bai was over the moon. He’d been quietly coveting Zhongli and Hu Tao’s courtyards for a while now.

They spent the rest of the day shopping. Jiang Bai’s Sanqing Bell was soon packed full of new furniture.

Hu Tao was far more liberal with her spending than he was. If she liked something, she bought it on the spot. By the time they were done, she’d spent well over 100,000 mora.

To keep his new place from feeling too plain, she even picked up a bunch of fresh flowers and green plants.

Back at Wangsheng, Hu Tao went to ask Uncle Ge which courtyards were still vacant.

Uncle Ge handled a lot of things around the parlor. He was the go-to for almost everything—Hu Tao had long since defaulted to bringing any logistical matter to him. He was basically the chief steward, with even more authority than some of the guest consultants.

Once they got the list of available courtyards, Hu Tao led Jiang Bai over to take a look.

Calling it a “courtyard” was perhaps generous—it was essentially a walled-off section with its own entrance gate, a little more private than the surrounding estate.

“This one’s right by the street market,” Hu Tao explained. “Bit noisy during the day, but it’s one of the larger ones. Comes with its own kitchen—meant for families or people with relatives staying over.”

Jiang Bai took one glance and shook his head. “It’s way too big for me.”

He was still new at Wangsheng. Everyone had been kind to him, sure—but moving into such a spacious courtyard would just look flashy. It wouldn’t sit right.

“Then let’s check the smallest one.”

That one was just a short walk from Hu Tao’s own place—across a little garden path.

And small as it was, it still wasn’t tiny.

The first thing you saw stepping into the courtyard was a tall goldleaf bonewood tree. It had been growing there for quite a while—its canopy was lush and full. Beneath it sat a stone table and a few matching stools.

Two buildings faced the gate. One could serve as a guest hall or study, and if you went through the interior door, the other was a bedroom.

No one had been living there, so the rooms were empty. But the lighting was good, and the area was quiet.

Off to one side were two small auxiliary rooms. The space wasn’t much, but with a little work, one could be a kitchen, the other a bathing room.

No more running to the public bathhouse.

Behind the house was a small backyard. There was a well, and the rest of the space was overgrown with weeds—perfect for planting Sweet Flowers.

“This is the one!” Jiang Bai was already sold. The layout ticked every box.

He, Jiang Bai, was now officially someone who could live in his own courtyard!

“Great. Clean it up a bit, get it set up, and you can move in tonight.”

Jiang Bai rolled up his sleeves and got to work—mopping floors, cleaning windows, throwing open the doors to let the fresh air in.

Hu Tao began unpacking everything they’d bought.

Carpets, desks, bookshelves, curio shelves, vases, decor, chairs, sofas, wall scrolls, plants, wardrobe, lighting fixtures… they filled the empty rooms with everything imaginable.

By the time they were done, the once-bare space finally felt lived in.

Hu Tao placed a pot of bright green coinwort on the windowsill in the bedroom, set up ink, brushes, and a warm reading lamp on the desk, tossed a few throw pillows on the couch, and laid cozy, warm-toned bedding across the mattress.

By the time evening fell, the house had truly come to life.

Looking around at the warm, inviting atmosphere, Hu Tao nodded with satisfaction.

Now this feels like home.

“Everything’s in place. I’ll leave the rest to you—I’m off to dinner.”

“Got it! Thanks, Director! Safe travels!” Jiang Bai called after her.

He lugged the rest of his personal belongings over from the old room, then collapsed onto the new sofa, too tired to move.

It was so soft. Compared to the hard wooden chair he’d been using, it was a godsend.

He looked around the cozy room and let out a long, contented sigh.

Now this feels like home.

And this, for the foreseeable future, would be his home.

I’ll tidy up a bit more tomorrow—need to clean the bath, clear out the backyard weeds, prep the soil for planting…

With thoughts of the pleasant work ahead, time passed quickly.

…

The next day, Jiang Bai got up bright and early and continued fixing up the courtyard.

The front yard was fairly empty aside from the big tree. He decided he’d plant flowers there—expensive ones like Glaze Lilies and Dandelions. Once they bloomed, he could sell them for profit. The backyard, meanwhile, would be exclusively for Sweet Flowers—planted just for snacking.

With that business plan in mind, he threw himself into weeding like a man possessed.

Hu Tao, bored out of her mind, had climbed onto the courtyard wall. She sat there cracking melon seeds, watching him dig up the yard.

The little ghost perched on her shoulder acted as an impromptu seed-shell incinerator.

Seeing Jiang Bai clumsily swing his hoe, relying entirely on brute strength, Hu Tao was having serious doubts about his Sweet Flower ambitions.

Just because Sweet Flowers grew wild didn’t mean they were easy to grow. Jiang Bai obviously had zero experience—he didn’t even know how to till properly.

“Want me to find someone to teach you how to garden?” she called out.

Jiang Bai looked up and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Director, when did you get here?”

“Was bored. Thought I’d check how your setup’s coming along.”

“Almost done—just some bits here and there.”

“I really love this place. You’d better invite me over often!”

Hu Tao crossed her arms and struck a classic “Director” pose. “You should be grateful, you know. Not just anyone gets treatment like this.”

“Your kindness and generosity, Director, I shall never forget,” Jiang Bai said solemnly, hands clasped in a mock salute.

And then—just as quickly—he dropped the act.

“Actually, Director, since you’re already here and all, why not help me dig? It’s great exercise, and we’ll get the field prepped faster—it’s a win-win!”

Hu Tao jumped down and grabbed his ear. “Hey! One second you’re talking about undying gratitude, and the next you’re asking me to dig dirt?! This is how you repay me?!”

“Ow—Director, I was wrong…”

—

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!