This Hedonistic Young Master

Chapter 11: From Hedonist to Housekeeper

Just as Tian Hao thought he could slink away and nurse his aching head, he heard a voice that made his stomach drop. "Tian Hao!" The sharp tone of Elder Hua cut through the courtyard, her eyes narrowing as she approached.

Tian Hao turned, plastering a polite smile on his face. "Elder Hua," he greeted, bowing slightly, though internally, he couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance. 'Why is it always me?' he thought, masking his frustration behind a polite expression.

Elder Hua's gaze was cold, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Given your completely uninspired and frankly disappointing performance today, I have a fitting task for you. The old cultivation hall has been neglected for far too long, and I think it's time someone cleaned it up." She raised an eyebrow, her gaze challenging. "Consider it an opportunity to reflect on your dedication."

Tian Hao nodded, his smile strained. "Of course, Elder Hua. I would be honored to assist." The sarcasm was barely hidden beneath his words, but Elder Hua either didn't notice or chose to ignore it. She simply turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Tian Hao standing there, biting back a sigh.

Tian Hao trudged towards the old cultivation hall, the path winding through overgrown shrubs and ancient, moss-covered stones. As he approached, he spotted an old, dilapidated sign hanging precariously above the doorway. The faded characters, barely visible through the years of grime, read '灵息殿' (Líng Xī Diàn) - 'Hall of Spiritual Breath.'

Tian Hao pushed open the creaking doors, coughing as a cloud of dust greeted his still tender lungs.

The place was cluttered, cobwebs hanging from the ceiling beams, and the floor covered in a layer of grime. He looked around, wondering where to even start. 'Spiritual Breath,' he thought, 'More like the hall of spiritual dust.' He shook his head before stepping forward to push open the creaking door.

He muttered under his breath, "Great, just what I need, a day filled with dust, regrets, and a profound sense of life's injustices. Truly, a cultivator's dream." He found the old broom leaning against the wall, its bristles frayed and handle worn from years of neglect. Picking it up, he noticed how rough and splintered the wood felt against his palms. The first sweep sent another cloud of dust into the air, making his eyes water and his throat itch.

"This is somehow worse than sweeping and mopping at Heaven's Bargain Mart," he muttered to himself. "At least back then, I got a meager paycheck and could sneak in a break when the manager wasn't looking. Here, the only reward is dust in my lungs and splinters in my hands." He chuckled dryly, the absurdity of the comparison helping to lift his spirits just a bit.

"Young Master Tian Hao!" a familiar voice called out. Tian Hao turned to see Fatty Wu waddling in, a wide grin on his face and a basket in his hands. "I heard you got stuck with some menial work, so I thought I'd bring you a little something to keep your spirits up."

Tian Hao's face lit up at the sight of the basket. "Fatty Wu, you're a true hero, a shining beacon in this dusty abyss. I swear, if I survive this, I'm naming my firstborn after you." He took the basket, peeking inside to find an assortment of snacks—steamed buns, rice cakes, and a small flask of wine. His stomach growled in response, and he wasted no time in grabbing a bun and taking a bite.

Fatty Wu chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "You know, Young Master, the elders are pretty harsh on you. But you've got spirit, showing up for morning training after a night out. Not many could do that."

Tian Hao swallowed the bun, giving Fatty Wu a wry smile. "I'm not sure if it's spirit, stupidity, or just sheer stubbornness," he said, his voice muffled by another bite. "Probably a healthy mix of all three. Either way, I'm stuck cleaning this place."