Chapter 9: Sunflower Seeds
Mu Mu didn’t know what “getting dirty” meant. After thinking it over, he felt he should explain himself. “When I scold people, I don’t use profanity. I’m very civilized.”
Seeing how cautious Mu Mu looked, Fu Heqing responded softly to show that he understood. “Mm.”
A civilized internet troll.
Still not acceptable.
Mu Mu stared into Fu Heqing’s eyes, glancing left and right, carefully observing until he was sure that no unpleasant emotions appeared again in those gray irises. Only then did he boldly guess that the painter must have won the argument.
No need for him to step in after all.
Putting on the air of a master, Mu Mu nodded with restrained pride and finally relaxed.
After the painting was hung, Fu Heqing prepared to leave the studio and go deal with other work in his email. Mu Mu followed behind absentmindedly, stopping every few steps to look back.
As a ghost who understood human social etiquette, since the painter had given him such a beautiful painting, he absolutely had to give something in return.
But what should he give?
Mu Mu felt a headache coming on.
The internet said that when people exchange gifts, it’s the thought that counts rather than the price—but the value still couldn’t differ too much, or it could easily cause friction.
The painter’s work was certainly worth a great, great deal, and the sentiment behind it went without saying—it had taken half a month to paint!
What’s more, this piece was who-knew-how-many times better than his previous works. Even the always-demanding painter himself was extremely satisfied with it.
But a ghost had no money and no way to give the painter something of equal value. Relying on sentiment alone probably wouldn’t work.
Mu Mu thought for a long time, then sat down on Fu Heqing’s desk and opened the tablet again.
First, he set the photo he had just taken as his profile picture on social media. Then he went to Baidu and searched: [How to get money.]
The first few pages of results were all rather dubious—either meme-like questions such as [How to quickly get one million] or [How to quickly earn a small goal], or else various shady ads about financial investments and loans.
Advertisements were definitely not to be trusted.
Drawing on his experience, Mu Mu flipped a few more pages. Soon, he spotted what looked like a very reliable answer and hurriedly asked the painter for a pen and paper to take notes.
“You can sell courses…”
Each stroke was painfully slow for Mu Mu as he wrote, with all kinds of little radicals and special symbols constantly mixed into even the simplest characters.
“You can also open an online shop, sell knowledge and skills. Offline, you can set up a stall or perform…”
There were countless ways to make money, all kinds of options—but Mu Mu couldn’t understand a single one of them.
He first searched what “selling courses” meant, then looked up the process of opening an online shop. After that, he browsed around topics related to selling knowledge and skills—things like ghostwriting papers or making PPTs for others—and was shocked to discover that he couldn’t do any of them.
He was so useless, QAQ.
Not only was he illiterate, he also had a species-level communication barrier with humans.
After thinking for a bit, Mu Mu decided he should at least prepare a “gift from the heart” first. He had previously found a jar of seeds in a small container in the kitchen!
He remembered seeing them before—they were sunflower seeds. Mu Mu had always thought sunflowers were beautiful, bright, and cheerful flowers. He wanted to plant them himself, and once they bloomed, give them to the painter!
He had also seen lots of little shovels in the painter’s storage room—pointed ones, flat ones, all sorts of shapes. At the joint between the handle and the shovel blade, there was a strange bent angle. Odd-looking, but they seemed just right for a small skeleton toy to use for digging holes.
Sunflowers take only five to seven days to sprout. Because the seed coat is relatively thick, the seeds need to be soaked in water for two to six hours beforehand, and the planting depth should be around ten centimeters.
After looking up all the planting tips and writing his entire plan down on paper, Mu Mu went to find Fu Heqing to ask for tools.
“Painter,” Mu Mu walked up to Fu Heqing and said hesitantly, “do you need to restock your paints? How about we go to the storage room together?”
Fu Heqing looked at Mu Mu’s clumsy excuse and didn’t expose it. Going along with his words, he said, “I need some blank paper. What are you going to get?”
Mu Mu didn’t catch the implication at all and replied happily, “That’s great! I also want to go find a little shovel.”
Fu Heqing glanced at Mu Mu, not quite understanding why he wanted his oil-painting palette knife, but he still helped him fetch it.
Mu Mu hugged the carving knife with delight. Before sneaking off to the garden, he didn’t forget what the painter had told him earlier—that no matter where he went, he had to report it.
“I’m going to sunbathe, okay? Not far away,” Mu Mu said tentatively.
Fu Heqing didn’t think much of it and agreed.
With that nod, the little skeleton set off at a swaggering, utterly heedless pace, rushed straight down to the first floor, flung open the front door, and began searching for a spot with good “feng shui” in the villa’s garden.
It didn’t take long for Fu Heqing to realize something was wrong.
It was far too quiet.
That ghost—even if he really were sunbathing—would never be this quiet. Every so often he’d carry his tablet over to ask whether this had a membership or that had a membership; even when watching a mystery show, he’d run over to ask, “Painter, do you know who the killer is in this movie?”
He took out his phone and checked the villa’s surveillance cameras, only to find that Mu Mu was nowhere to be seen.
Fu Heqing slowly stood up and left the studio.
Mu Mu, meanwhile, was busy working away, completely losing track of time. Just as he was digging his fourth ten-centimeter-deep hole, he suddenly felt a huge shadow fall over his head.
He slowly looked up—and abruptly discovered an extra figure behind him—
The painter stood there, holding a black umbrella. Backlit by the lights, his expression was completely unreadable.
“I—I was sunbathing. I reported it,” Mu Mu ventured cautiously.
Seeing that the other party showed no reaction at all, Mu Mu thought for a moment, then hurriedly hid the little shovel he’d been using to dig behind his back, and added hastily.
“I—I even prepared a basin of water. I can wash myself clean later, so I won’t get all dirty.”
As soon as Mu Mu finished speaking, Fu Heqing crouched down and lifted him up, asking his first question.
“How did you get out?”
Mu Mu didn’t quite understand. His mind spun for a while before it clicked. “Huh? You can just open the door and come out. I saw the servants enter the password before—I remembered it right away.”
“Mm.”
After asking that, Fu Heqing said nothing more. He carried Mu Mu into the bathroom and personally washed the little skeleton toy until it was spotless.
Seeing Fu Heqing’s cool, indifferent expression, Mu Mu was terrified inside. Lying in the sink, he asked cautiously, “A-are you angry?”
“No.”
The moment those words left Fu Heqing’s mouth, Mu Mu was certain that he was in a bad mood. He hurriedly explained, “I just wanted to plant some flowers myself, and when they bloom, give them to you as a gift, Painter.”
Fu Heqing paused mid-motion as he rinsed the little skeleton.
Seeing the painter’s expression ease a little, Mu Mu immediately pressed on while the iron was hot. “They’re sunflowers! I’ve already planted thirteen of them. I put five seeds in each hole—if they all sprout, I can give you sixty-five sunflowers.”
As he spoke, Mu Mu cooperated by taking off his clothes and putting them into the dryer.
“There won’t be sixty-five,” Fu Heqing said coolly, cutting him down. “Not even one.”
“Your seeds are cooked.”
Mu Mu’s eyes flew wide open at once.
“Cooked?”
“What does cooked mean? How could they be cooked?” The little skeleton seemed to fall completely into confusion and disbelief.
Seeing how Mu Mu looked like he was about to cry, Fu Heqing paused, then changed the subject. “The little skeleton needs to be blow-dried. Come out first.”
Mu Mu was even more upset. “Why are the seeds cooked? And why should I be blow-dried?”
Although he didn’t really understand, Mu Mu still drifted out. His delicate little face was full of dejection as he watched Fu Heqing hold a hair dryer and blow warm air over the small skeleton toy, speeding up the evaporation of the water on it.
“Why does the little skeleton need to be blow-dried?”
“So that someone doesn’t complain tomorrow that his bones feel all soft again.”
One question, one answer—Mu Mu’s attention was instantly diverted.
“That does sound like something I’ve said before,” Mu Mu said embarrassedly.
Fu Heqing looked at the ghost standing off to the side, staring blankly with his pretty brows all knitted together. He then lowered his gaze to the now-silent skeleton toy in his hands and turned off the hair dryer.
“Huh? It’s not dry yet—why did you stop?”
The moment the dryer shut off and the noise disappeared, Mu Mu snapped back to himself. He drifted back into the little skeleton’s body, picked up the hair dryer, and aimed it at himself.
“Whoa, so this is what wind feels like?”
“It feels really heavy, like someone’s pushing me.”
Watching the little skeleton wobble around while hugging the hair dryer, Fu Heqing sighed softly, took it back, and continued blow-drying the toy himself.
“Then… do I need to come out again?” Mu Mu asked in a small voice.
“No need.”
For a while after that, neither of them spoke. They just kept blow-drying, then dressed the little skeleton in the clothes that had finished drying, and finally returned to the studio to continue working.
Fu Heqing remained silent. Mu Mu did too.
Mu Mu had the distinct feeling that ever since the painter brought him back from the garden, his mood had been stuck in a very unpleasant state.
It didn’t feel like anger—more like two equally bad emotions tugging and tangling with each other, neither able to gain the upper hand.
For the entire day, the pressure around Fu Heqing was low and heavy, like storm clouds. Yet every time Mu Mu cautiously went to test the waters, the painter’s attitude toward him hadn’t changed at all.
He even tried to comfort him, saying, “If you like planting sunflowers, I can have someone send some over.”
“If they won’t survive outside, you can grow them in the sunroom.”
Mu Mu was instantly moved by this heaven-and-earth-shaking friendship.
He felt that this really wouldn’t do. Since giving flowers had failed, he still wanted to find a way to buy the painter a gift.
Staring at his tablet, Mu Mu very solemnly typed his question into a forum.
[I want to make money. What should I do?]
Very quickly, a lot of people sent Mu Mu private messages. Among them, the humans he actually managed to chat with were especially enthusiastic.
Looking at the dozens of DMs, Mu Mu replied to them one by one.
[Thank you, but it’s not that I’m short on money. I want to give a gift to a very special friend, but I don’t have any money right now.]
[I see.]
One particularly enthusiastic netizen, whose ID was Five Cats and whose avatar was a group photo of tabby cats, sent him a message.
[Then Mu Mu needs to be careful of scams.]
As she spoke, a flood of forwarded links came pouring in—official anti-fraud informational posts, wall to wall.
[If you have any problems, you can always come to me. There’s basically nothing your big sis can’t solve.]
Hugging his tablet, Mu Mu thought for a long time. He didn’t want to trouble Five Cats, but Five Cats was human—and he felt that humans would probably understand humans better. In the end, he still typed:
[Kitty, do you know what kind of gift is good for a special friend?]
Seeing the word “special,” Five Cats fell into deep thought. Then she slowly typed a question in return.
[Special? How special? The boyfriend kind of special?]
