Ch 13: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

District A, 99th Floor.

Shui Ninghua stood in the middle of a nearly endless line, her brows furrowed. “Is this where Guard Du’s soul-loss disorder was cured?”

Du Chen, standing in front of her, turned and nodded slightly. “Yes.”

Shui Ninghua looked skeptical. “If I’m not mistaken, this is a snack shop.”

“Yes, it’s just a snack shop,” Du Chen replied.

This sort of exchange had happened several times. Every time Shui Ninghua asked a question, it was met with the same indifferent response.

She was already regretting leaving her research work at the sanatorium to join Du Chen’s group. She had thought today would bring a breakthrough in curing soul-loss disorder and had even brought along two key staff members. To her surprise, Du Chen had led them to a snack shop.

Shui Ninghua glanced back at Liu Mei and Hong Chun, feeling a bit annoyed. “If I had known it was just a snack shop, I wouldn’t have brought you two along and wasted your time.”

Snack shop simulations had been popular in Dreamland for a while. When the first shops opened, they were a huge hit. Even though people knew the food wasn’t real, they couldn’t resist buying something that looked incredibly authentic or reminded them of a food they cherished.

Food is tied to life, and sometimes just seeing a particular dish can evoke memories and emotions from the past, leading to nostalgia. For Dreamland’s residents, these small emotional triggers were a novelty that they sought to experience repeatedly.

However, the food created by illusion had only appearance, no smell, no taste, and the texture was always the same soft mush. People quickly grew tired of it, and when they did, they felt more empty and dejected than before.

To Shui Ninghua, the existence of this snack shop didn’t seem like it could cure soul-loss disorder. In fact, it might worsen the patient’s condition.

Liu Mei, the orderly who had reported the soul-loss deaths during the previous day’s break, had eyes as calm as a still well and spoke without any inflection. “Then let’s go back.”

Liu Mei had been a nurse during her lifetime, driven by a natural sense of duty to heal and save lives. She had worked at the sanatorium for many years, but after witnessing countless patients lose their souls, she had long since become numb.

The most frightening realization, after years of exploration, was that soul-loss disorder was an incurable condition. These patients were nothing more than lingering souls, tied to some unresolved obsession, and for reasons unknown, they had ended up here.

This place was neither an afterlife nor a paradise but a prison where time slowly eroded the remnants of their soul’s obsessions. Once their obsession faded, so did they.

Liu Mei knew there was no cure for soul-loss syndrome in this world, but if she stopped working, she wouldn’t know what else to do. So, she remained at the sanatorium.

Yesterday, the director had excitedly informed her of meeting a soul-loss syndrome patient in District D who had fully recovered and planned to speak with them today. Liu Mei hadn’t believed it then, and today only confirmed her skepticism. There was nothing to be disappointed about.

Shui Ninghua understood Liu Mei’s practical nature. She had invited her to help open the sanatorium precisely because of her responsible and no-nonsense attitude.

At that moment, Liu Mei was offering the simplest and most effective solution.

But strangely, Shui Ninghua hesitated.

Hong Chun peeked out from behind Liu Mei, her round face filled with excitement. “Director, are we really going to eat at that shop?”

“You want to go?” Shui Ninghua quickly latched onto her enthusiasm.

“Yes! Seeing so many people lining up makes me curious.” Hong Chun paused and then added, “I’ve noticed Mr. Du’s condition really is much improved. He firmly believes this place cured him, so there might be something special about it. We’ve waited this long; we might as well go inside and take a look.”

As Hong Chun spoke, she remembered yesterday afternoon when she took patients for their routine rehabilitation at the cinema, where she had watched a food livestream. The food in the broadcast looked incredibly real, and the people eating it displayed such vivid expressions—as if the coffee was truly bitter and the desserts were sweet and soft.

Even without thinking about the patients, she herself had felt relaxed and tempted just watching it.

Someone in the chat said that the shop actually exists and is located in District A.

Hong Chun thought, could it be this one? So many people lining up must have watched the livestream.

But these simulated snack shops are just a scam. She admitted that this time she had been influenced by the livestream, willing to spend some time to learn a lesson.

After all, time at the sanatorium was just spent idling, so idling at a snack shop was just a change of scenery. It was all the same.

Might as well satisfy her curiosity, so she wouldn’t keep thinking about it.

By the time Shui Ninghua and her group reached the front of the line, it was already past noon. Then they were informed: “We’re out of ingredients, the shop is closing for a midday break.”

Shui Ninghua, who had been holding back her temper for hours, finally snapped, “Sold out? We waited in line for three or four hours just to get here, and now you’re saying it’s sold out? Couldn’t you have prepared more?”

Xingzi responded, “I’m terribly sorry, we actually prepared twice the usual amount of ingredients today, but we still sold out earlier than expected.”

In fact, the 20 or 30 people in front of Shui Ninghua’s group hadn’t gotten anything either. Yesterday’s livestream had opened three more regions, and the number of customers had surged.

Shui Ninghua couldn’t comprehend the situation at all. She felt like giving up a day’s work to come here was the most absurd decision she’d made in nearly a century.

It was laughable how just last night she’d excitedly told Liu Mei and Hong Chun that she’d found a breakthrough to cure soul-loss disorder, only to be played for a fool.

Turning her head, she shot a glare at Du Chen, then looked back at Xingzi. “How long will it take to make more now? We can wait—half an hour, will that be enough?”

Just as Xingzi was about to explain, Lu Yao walked over, tearing off leaves from a small bok choy as she approached. “What’s going on?”

Shui Ninghua recognized Lu Yao as the owner, and her anger shot to its peak. She was about to explode when Du Chen stepped forward, cutting off the conversation with a smile. “Hello, owner. My name is Du Chen, do you remember me?”

Lu Yao dealt with so many customers every day that, to be honest, he didn’t really remember him. But when he saw Du An behind him, something clicked. “Oh, it’s you.”

Du An, pleasantly surprised, stepped forward, “Owner sister, you still remember me?”

“Mm, has your brother’s condition improved?” Lu Yao recalled the boy who had nearly been driven to tears trying to buy food for his sick brother.

Du An pointed to Du Chen. “This is my brother, and he’s fully recovered. I’ve been wanting to thank you.”

Lu Yao was surprised, “He got better just from eating the food?”

Du An nodded emphatically, “Yes.”

Lu Yao smiled, “That’s great. Congratulations.”

Hearing this conversation, Shui Ninghua’s anger slowly dissipated. She calmed herself and stepped forward to face Lu Yao. “Hello, my name is Shui Ninghua. I’m the director of the sanatorium in District E. I came today because…”

Her face was tight, and her tone was cold as she introduced herself, when suddenly, a spatula was thrust between them. Bai Ming shoved it into Lu Yao’s hands, urging, “Owner, the vegetables are washed. Please take care of the cooking. I’ll handle things here.”

He then pushed Lu Yao toward the kitchen.

“Wait, I haven’t…” Lu Yao started to protest, but Xiao Qie came running out of the kitchen, teary-eyed, and pulled her in. “Owner, food, hungry.”

“…,” Lu Yao was helplessly dragged away by Xiao Qie, glancing back several times, but each time, Xiao Qie successfully diverted his attention.

Once Lu Yao was out of sight, Xingzi and Bai Ming’s expressions turned cold. Their icy gazes shifted from Shui Ninghua to Du Chen.

Bai Ming asked, “What do you want?”

Shui Ninghua gritted her teeth, her face dark with anger.

Du Chen didn’t show much emotion and briefly explained the situation, focusing on the sanatorium and the patients with soul-loss syndrome.

After listening, Bai Ming simply said, “You’re late. Once we’re sold out, that’s it. Come earlier tomorrow.”

Xingzi, however, thought for a moment and said, “Let’s ask the owner first.”

She ran back to the kitchen and told Lu Yao about Shui Ninghua’s group. Lu Yao, who was cooking, nodded after hearing the story and said, “Let them stay and have a meal.”

Xingzi had already guessed Lu Yao’s decision before going in but thought there would be at least a bit of hesitation. She hadn’t expected such a quick agreement.

When she came out and relayed Lu Yao’s message, she guided Shui Ninghua and the others to sit down and poured them some water.

However, the three women from the sanatorium still looked upset, while the Du brothers sat comfortably.

Du Chen glanced at Shui Ninghua and her group, who sat there silently stewing but unwilling to leave. He casually said, “She’s different. Soon, you’ll understand why they are so protective of her.”

Lu Yao had set the employee meal menu earlier but added a few more dishes considering the guests.

Thanks to Qi Chen’s help, they managed to prepare a full table of dishes in just forty minutes.

The small tables in the shop weren’t enough, so they pushed two together, squeezing ten people around it.

Dish after dish came out from the kitchen: sour soup beef, spicy boiled pork slices, squirrel fish, stir-fried pork, fish-flavored eggplant, garlic stir-fried greens, and finally, a large pot of three-flavor vermicelli soup.

Fearing it wouldn’t be enough, Lu Yao also took a bag of semi-finished flatbreads from the freezer, stuffed them with leftover chive and egg filling from the morning, and fried a batch.

When the food was placed on the table, a variety of aromas—sour, spicy, sweet, savory—filled the air. Not only Shui Ninghua but even the usually stoic Liu Mei’s expression changed.

These dishes looked entirely different from the typical simulated snack shop offerings. They were vibrant in color and full of appetizing smells—like real food.

Du Chen squinted happily at the feast. Was this a hidden menu at the shop? His desire to work at the 99th floor firmed up even more.

Du An, sitting nearby, didn’t know what to do with his hands as saliva uncontrollably filled his mouth, forcing him to swallow constantly in both embarrassment and excitement.

Even Bai Ming, Xingzi, and Xiao Qie had never had such a luxurious meal at the shop, especially the beautifully presented squirrel fish in the middle, its sweet and sour aroma particularly mouth-watering.

Everyone at the table had their eyes glued to the dishes, hands trembling around their chopsticks, but no one dared to be the first to move.

Lu Yao took off her apron, washed her hands, and sat down, picking up her chopsticks. “No need to be polite, let’s eat.”

No one cared about being polite. For the residents of Dreamland, this table full of food was too enticing—like rain in a long drought.

Before the meal, Shui Ninghua had been furious, but now she was utterly surprised.

The food in this shop was nothing like what she had imagined—far from being conjured by illusion, it was real, meticulously cooked food.

She picked up a piece of fish-flavored eggplant in front of her. The eggplant, cut to look like fish scales, was soft and flavorful, the sour and salty taste melting on her tongue. Paired with rice, it was so delicious she felt like she could eat her own tongue.

Next to the eggplant was a dish of stir-fried pork, perfect with rice. Thin slices of pork belly had been fried until the fat rendered out, stir-fried with peppers and seasonings. The meat curled slightly, a crisp, brown edge that released a burst of savory flavor with each bite. Eating a piece of pepper added a fiery spark to her tongue, further stimulating her appetite.

Shui Ninghua finally understood the real value of this shop. She stole glances at Lu Yao, noticing that she alone, among the group, emitted a soft, glowing white light. Her lips were red, and her teeth were bright.

She was human.

Different from the rest of them.

No wonder these creatures were so protective of her.

Most importantly, she could provide something unique in this world—real food. That’s why Du Chen recovered after eating here.

After just a few bites, Shui Ninghua felt as if she’d been reborn, her body and mind shedding fatigue, completely immersed in this simple, worldly pleasure.

Liu Mei’s bowl was piled high. The bottom layer was rice, topped with stir-fried pork and fish-flavored eggplant, followed by slices of boiled pork, squirrel fish, beef slices, enoki mushrooms, and vermicelli.

She ate slowly, unable to compete with the others, so she had to hoard everything in her bowl. Hong Chun, sitting beside her, wasn’t quick enough and could only mix the remaining eggplant sauce with her rice.

Bai Ming, Xingzi, Xiao Qie, and the Du brothers fully let loose, gradually revealing their monstrous forms, while Qi Chen shrank beside Lu Yao, quietly shoveling food into his mouth.

Lu Yao seemed completely unaware, eating as usual with a calm expression.

By the time the meal was finished, nearly all the plates were on the verge of being damaged. Xiao Qie and Du An were so absorbed in licking the plates that they almost bit through them.

…

Lu Yao and Qi Chen agreed that starting at 3 p.m., they would sell coffee and small pastries until closing at 5 p.m.

Lu Yao didn’t dare promise much from the dessert shop, as she had spent the previous night upgrading the kitchen, adding an oven, cookware, and some ingredients.

If Qi Chen wanted to sell pastries, he would have to bake them himself. Her wallet couldn’t handle the expenses anymore.

With a little time left before reopening, Shui Ninghua approached Lu Yao, wanting to discuss matters related to the sanatorium.

Qi Chen brewed some coffee and brought out homemade cookies to serve as refreshments.

Lu Yao sat by the window with the three women.

By now, Shui Ninghua’s anger from the morning had completely dissipated, and she was a bit embarrassed. “I apologize for any offense I caused earlier, Miss Lu. I hope you can forgive me.”

Lu Yao shook her head, indicating it was no big deal, and got straight to the point.

Shui Ninghua expressed her hope to bring a group of patients over the next day to test if the food could improve their condition.

A group of patients meant five people.

Lu Yao thought it over and agreed.

On the way back, Shui Ninghua was a bit regretful as she reminisced about the meal they had at the snack shop earlier. She’d heard it was an employee meal, so she doubted she’d easily get to eat it again.

Even Liu Mei, usually rigid, had a bit more sparkle in her expression as she seriously suggested, “Once we return, we should reorganize the schedule so that the orderlies can take turns coming here for meals.”

Shui Ninghua’s eyes lit up. That’s right! They could come here to eat too. Du Chen had recommended the shop’s wonton soup and sweet rice balls—she definitely had to try them next time.

Hong Chun immediately raised both hands in agreement. “That’s fantastic! I used to hate coffee, but it turns out iced coffee with bitter undertones paired with creamy cookies is so delicious. I regret never trying it while I was alive.”

In this world, good food was an unstoppable force, and even the strongest people had to submit to its temptations.

Only Lu Yao mourned for her depleted wallet.

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