Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [99]

Baizhu picked up the needle compass and examined it closely. Judging from the materials, it was quite refined—though he couldn’t tell much beyond that.

He looked up at Hu Tao. “So, how much does it cost to use this to find someone?”

Hu Tao considered for a moment. “The first time’s free. After that, half-price for life. Let’s call it my apology for being too fixated on her all these years.”

Hearing her say that, Baizhu gave a quiet smile. It wasn’t his usual gentle, polished expression, but something softer—more genuine.

“So Director Hu has truly let Qiqi go…”

“Ah, well, there are always a few exceptions in the world—people who break all the rules. If Qiqi doesn’t want to pass on, what can I do?”

“It’s good you’ve come to terms with it.”

Baizhu no longer felt the need to question what had happened.

The outcome was a good one—what happened in between didn’t really matter anymore.

Hu Tao explained how to use the compass. “Just have Qiqi place a drop of blood on it. Her name will appear here—then you bring it to me. Next time she goes missing, just come to the Funeral Parlor.”

“Understood.”

Though Qiqi was a zombie, the adeptal energy within her sustained a semblance of life. Naturally, she still had blood in her veins.

Taking a single drop was no trouble.

Baizhu turned and left. Hu Tao yawned and headed straight back to bed.

—

In the northeastern reaches of Liyue stood a towering, snow-covered mountain. This massive peak pierced the clouds, and once, a corrupted dragon had fallen here. The people called it—Dragonspine.

Dark clouds perpetually veiled the summit. Endless storms and heavy snow obscured the mountain’s true form, burying not only the landscape but the long-forgotten past beneath layers of ice.

That snow and ice seemed to resist anyone who dared to glimpse the mountain’s secrets.

Wrapped in thick winter gear and carrying a full pack, Cartis stepped into the mountain once again.

He had walked this path more times than he could count. Where monsters lurked, where the wind would howl hardest, where one could rest safely—he knew them all by heart.

But for those who sought to conquer this mountain, the true enemy was never the beasts or the frozen paths—it was the cold itself.

Dragonspine’s chill was no ordinary winter frost. It was as though the land were cursed by the sovereign of ice. No matter how warm the climate below, the moment you stepped into its domain, the cold would strike—piercing straight to the bone. No amount of clothing could keep it out.

“Cartis! Back to the mountain again, eh?”

The adventurers at the base camp greeted him with familiar smiles.

Cartis was a regular here. He knew the mountain, and the mountain knew him.

“That’s right!” Cartis responded with a grin. The scar stretching across his face did nothing to make him look menacing.

He lifted his gaze to the peak above. That burning desire of an adventurer, long dormant, now surged in his chest.

“This time… I’m going to reach the summit!”

There was certainty in his voice—like he’d already made up his mind.

After over a decade of exploring Dragonspine, he was finally ready to take that last step.

At his words, the others looked toward the cloud-wreathed mountaintop—no one had ever set foot there.

And where no one had been… danger always waited.

“Just come back alive, alright?” someone said, eyes full of worry.

But Cartis didn’t bat an eye. On the contrary, he understood exactly what this meant.

Without the resolve to face death, how could one dare to dream of climbing to the summit?

“If I can conquer this mountain, then even death is worth it!”

He laughed heartily, waved goodbye, and set off toward the slope.

A breeze swept past him, and sunlight from beyond the clouds shone onto his path and across the earth, gilding it like gold.

His friends watched his figure until it disappeared into the frozen wilderness.

They knew… they might never see him again.

—

Jiang Bai had no idea that his very first client had already set foot on Dragonspine.

Even if he did know, he wouldn’t have stopped them.

That was what their new service was for—to let clients do what they wanted without having to worry about what might happen. How could he stop a client from living their life?

He was in the middle of packing. As someone who might be called into action at any moment, he needed to be fully prepared.

He didn’t know when his first customer would need help, but he did know that being ready never hurt.

“Emergency rope, anti-slip boots, thermal sleeping bag, firewood and charcoal for heat, biscuits and meat pies for food, tinted goggles to prevent snow blindness…”

He checked each item one by one, laying everything neatly in place—filling every corner of Sanqing Bell, his storage space.

“Three cubic meters still feels a bit small…” he muttered.

It looked spacious, but once packed, it started to feel cramped.

Especially after he’d loaded up a pile of firewood and charcoal from the kitchen. What had once been roomy now felt uncomfortably tight.

Why bring firewood? Probably because he was worried there wouldn’t be any dry kindling on Dragonspine for warmth…

After all, he’d never been to Dragonspine. All he knew came from distant glimpses across Liyue Harbor.

After packing everything, Jiang Bai opened the door and stepped out—off to find Hu Tao for some fun.

He didn’t know when he’d be dragged off on some tough job, so while he had time, he was going to enjoy himself to the fullest.

“Director! Oi, Director Hu! Where are you? Let’s go catch some fish!”

He shouted loud enough to rattle rooftops—only just shy of using a megaphone to broadcast a missing Hu Tao alert.

From the rooftop, a tile came flying down—clack!

“Stop your damn shouting! What kind of manners are those?!” came Hu Tao’s voice, cranky and half-asleep.

Jiang Bai dodged the tile with ease.

“There you are, Director!”

He spotted her sprawled across the rooftop and summoned a rock ladder with Geo energy, scrambling up in a few quick steps.

“One roof tile is ten Mora. Break it, and you pay full price.”

The moment his foot touched the tile, he froze—carefully lifting it back off and stepping onto the stone instead.

“What are you doing up here, Director?”

“Can’t you see? I’m absorbing solar energy!” Hu Tao spread out on the roof in a big X-shape, basking under the blazing sun without a single bit of cover.

“Does that actually do anything?” Jiang Bai tilted his head.

“In our line of work, we’re bound to pick up a lot of… yin energy. Gotta sunbathe to balance it out.”

She lifted her hand into the light. Her skin was pale—so pale it was nearly whitewashed—and her fingers, tipped with black nail polish, looked anything but healthy.

Staring at her ghost-white hand and pure black nails, Jiang Bai couldn’t help but worry.

“Director… did you paint your nails yourself, or is that a side effect of something?”

Hu Tao looked at her fingers and chuckled. “Of course I painted them myself!”

She sat up, dangling her hands in front of her like claws.

“Well? Don’t they look just like ghost hands?”

“They really do. It’s uncanny!”

“That’s the whole point. If they don’t look creepy, how am I supposed to scare people~?”

—

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!