Ch 130: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

[Successfully helped 500 stranded sea drifters leave the garbage sea. Task complete! Reward: 100,000 popularity points, and the shopkeeper gains permission to freely enter and exit the garbage sea!]

[Lu Yao’s Little Pet Cafe is now bustling with popularity, upgraded to a four-star shop. Reward: 100,000 popularity points, plus three new types of fluffy pets. Keep up the good work, Shopkeeper!]

[New task available! Add at least three new fluffy pets within fourteen days, with a total of no less than thirty. Reward: 100,000 popularity points, and a free expansion of up to 60 square meters!]

After Jiu Hua’s few visits, Lu Yao finally completed her task and earned the long-awaited entry and exit privilege. She couldn’t wait to float to the surface for a look around.

From the guests’ conversations, she’d gathered that this world’s civilization seemed similar to her own, though it surely had differences.

This new task came just in time. She felt the shop was a bit short on fluffy employees, especially since the recent expansion had left the Whale Room, Coral Room, and Sea Urchin Room rather empty. They could use more fluffiness to draw attention.

She’d been looking into potential new fluffy creatures recently but hadn’t settled on any specific types. Now she could complete a task at the same time.

But the system was such a stickler—the reward even limited the expansion area.

Only 60 square meters? Way too small.

System: […I can hear you.]

Lu Yao immediately went along with it, “I mean, 60 square meters is hardly in line with the grandeur of your dream-fulfillment system. I thought it’d be at least 100.”

The system was so frustrated it wanted to clench its fists (if it had any). Upgrading the Little Pet Cafe last time was exhausting; the shopkeeper practically used it as manual labor. This time, it absolutely wouldn’t fall for it again.

[The task is published. No retraction or modification allowed.]

Lu Yao: “So you don’t have enough authority?”

System: [ … ]

So annoying.

At that moment, the system suddenly announced a new task.

Lu Yao paused, surprised. This was the first time she’d received a side quest.

[You’ve triggered a side quest! The deep-sea goddess has disappeared, weakening the barrier of the garbage sea. The accumulated trash is about to overflow, spilling into the human world with catastrophic consequences. Please resolve this issue and prevent the trash from escaping. Reward: Based on completion, there’s a chance to unlock the final task!]

After reading the task details, Lu Yao couldn’t help but ask, “What does ‘a chance’ mean?”

The system, still holding a grudge, replied: [ … No comment. ]

Lu Yao: “Alright then, you’re giving me the runaround. Since it’s a side quest, I don’t have to do it, right? Completing it just might unlock the final task, but who knows what the odds are? One percent, maybe even less. If I skip it, the final task will eventually come around anyway. Honestly, I’m not in a rush, so let’s just skip it.”

System: [ … 50 percent. ]

Lu Yao: “What? I didn’t catch that.”

The system raised its voice: [I said! With a high completion level, there’s a 50 percent chance to unlock the final task.]

Lu Yao rubbed her ears, “Got it, got it.”

The system, fuming yet unable to out-argue her, logged off in a huff.

It was early in the day; Jiu Hua had left, and the shop quieted down.

The kittens meowed eagerly, and Lu Yao poured a little cat food into their bowls—not too much, so they’d still have room for treats from the guests.

Feeding was a favorite activity among the Little Pet Cafe’s guests. Not only had Erxin’s weight loss mission “met an untimely demise,” but even the once-skinny Boxers, Cha Cha, and White socks had all filled out nicely and started developing chubby cheeks, perhaps partly due to the “bell-ringing” game.

The Little Pet Cafe was spacious, but it was short on enrichment toys for the animals.

The guests were indulgent, carrying the kittens around wherever they went, and even the neighboring Little Fat Chirps were starting to show signs of “fattening up.”

Lu Yao planned to add some high-intensity, fun enrichment toys in the Bird Room and Cat Room to encourage the kittens and chirps to exercise moderately.

With this plan in mind, she slowly enjoyed her seafood noodles. Halfway through, Qingmei came over.

She pushed the bowl originally intended for Jiu Hua over to her. “Want some noodles? I made it for a guest, but she left early.”

Lu Yao’s noodles were fresh and hand-pulled from a local noodle shop, with a consistent chewiness, topped with an array of seafood. Even after soaking for a while, the noodles hadn’t clumped together.

Not one to let food go to waste, Qingmei wasn’t picky about the untouched noodles and sat down to eat, though she seemed a bit distracted.

“What’s wrong?” Lu Yao asked as she continued slurping noodles, ignoring the hopeful eyes of Erxin, Flat-pants, and a few others who had finished their cat food and were staring at them.

The noodles, slightly wide, were coated in a light milky broth and paired with peeled shrimp and crab legs. A few hearty slurps, and all worries vanished.

Qingmei stirred her noodles, hesitating before speaking. “The actress has been gone for several days.”

She understood that the actress was likely busy and might not be able to handle her request immediately upon returning.

But the silence gnawed at her, filling her mind with doubts. That’s why she’d ended up rolling outside the Jellyfish Room yesterday in desperation.

Lu Yao lifted her bowl, finished the noodle broth, and said, “Don’t worry. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll find another way. Oh, by the way, the chocolate starfish who left yesterday came back this morning but left again soon after.”

Qingmei was surprised. “She came back?”

Lu Yao nodded. “Yes, this was her third visit, and she comes and goes even more freely than I do. I have a feeling she’ll return again. Keep an eye out.”

Qingmei nodded, and some of the worry faded from her face.

If the chocolate starfish came back, she could ask about the outside world.

Lu Yao put away her bowl, put on her diving suit, and prepared to head out.

She didn’t tell Qingmei about her new access privilege, as she wanted to see the outside world for herself first.

According to the system’s records, Lu Yao swam upwards for more than 30 meters before bursting through the ocean surface—the barrier that once existed was now gone.

Adjusting her posture, she observed her surroundings.

Sea, sea, sea—nothing but endless sea in every direction.

An overwhelming sense of disappointment washed over her like a tidal wave, and she couldn’t pinpoint why.

Under the vast sky and sea, a human felt so insignificant.

It was like a pygmy seahorse hiding in a coral reef, overshadowed by the depths of the ocean.

A feeling of lonely desolation, like tiny waves stirred up by the sea breeze, gradually seeped into her senses.

“Woo—” A deep, melodious whale song echoed from far away, carrying an ancient resonance that made Lu Yao shiver inexplicably.

The system suddenly murmured, and Lu Yao snapped back. “What is it?”

System: [There’s someone with a pod of sperm whales.]

Lu Yao: “Sperm whales and a person?”

Among whales, sperm whales weren’t particularly fast swimmers, averaging speeds of 20 to 30 kilometers per hour.

But compared to humans, that was incredibly fast.

Lu Yao soon saw, not far away, water spouts shooting up from the surface one after another, accompanied by thunderous sounds, rising and falling in succession.

The height and power of the water spouts were far more impressive than anything she had seen in photos or videos, leaving her frozen in awe, unsure if it was fear or excitement.

On the vast, endless sea, a massive pod of sperm whales was passing by.

They seemed unaware of her presence, calmly swimming past her until… she spotted a familiar chocolate-colored starfish perched atop one of the whales’ large heads.

“Jiu Hua?” Lu Yao exclaimed, her voice trembling with surprise.

The plump starfish lifted one of its arms slightly, as if a bit startled, then lazily climbed onto the sperm whale’s broad back, flipped over, and greeted, “Hey, Lu Yao!”

Lu Yao struggled to keep her balance. “How are you here?”

Jiu Hua, still in her starfish form out of the water, stretched out her arms, basking in the sun. “I’m traveling with the big whales, and seeing if I can collect some of their poop along the way.”

There was a rumor that after special drying treatment, sperm whale poop could become the base for ambergris.

Lu Yao: “…”

How should she tell Jiu Hua that, at first, sperm whale poop is really no different from regular poop?

“What about you? Why are you here?” The sperm whale carrying Jiu Hua kept its head above water every few seconds to keep her from falling off.

Lu Yao struggled to swim along. “Don’t you want to leave this place?”

Jiu Hua waved her arm casually, “Not yet; there’s so much to explore here.”

Lu Yao, tired and unable to keep up with the whale’s speed, shouted, “I want to reach the shore—do you know the direction?”

Jiu Hua suddenly sat up, turning into her human form, looking slightly surprised as she pointed ahead. “There’s the coast, less than a hundred meters away.”

Lu Yao looked confused. “Where?”

Jiu Hua steadied herself on the whale’s head, shakily standing up, and pulled a pen from her pocket. “Turns out you can’t see it. Don’t worry, I’ll clear the way for you.”

Falling behind the whale pod, Lu Yao saw Jiu Hua raise the pen and swing it forward.

In an instant, it seemed the pen transformed into a small silver blade with a sharp edge. Jiu Hua wielded it, slicing through the sky.

The transparent barrier emitted a harsh “crackling” sound as cracks spread from the blade’s cut like tree roots. The pale gray barrier shattered with a roar, and golden sunlight filtered through the cracks, warm and soft.

The sky had broken open, and a fresh morning breeze brushed against her face, as if this world was greeting her for the first time.

Squinting, Lu Yao peered ahead, finally seeing the shoreline within reach.

The sperm whale pod swam straight forward, crossing the boundary of the gray barrier, but Jiu Hua was stopped by an invisible force, falling back into the water with a “thud.”

Lu Yao dove in, swimming a great distance as she searched for Jiu Hua. She eventually found the droopy little starfish on top of the Coral Room.

She picked up the little starfish and brought her back to the shop.

After downing a large bowl of seafood noodles, Jiu Hua perked up, “Those noodles were amazing! I’ll have some for lunch too.”

Lu Yao introduced her to Qingmei. “This is Jiu Hua.”

Qingmei had already guessed, and she gave a shy nod to Jiu Hua. “I’m Du Qingmei, a temporary staff member at the Cozy Shop.”

Unable to wait any longer, Qingmei quickly got to the point.

She had barely said a couple of sentences before Jiu Hua nodded. “I know who you are; I saw your photo in the news. I wasn’t completely sure at first, mainly because you look different here compared to the photo.”

Qingmei was stunned. “You’re saying I appeared in the news?”

Jiu Hua nodded. “Don’t you remember how you got here? As far as I know, people who come here generally forget their experiences in the sea after they return. But I didn’t expect someone might forget what happened before they arrived here, too.”

Qingmei was surprised. “So, when they go back, they’ll forget everything about this place?”

Jiu Hua rubbed her chin, hesitantly nodding. “In theory, yes. The first time I came here, I forgot about it once I went back. One day, I climbed to the rooftop to get some fresh air and saw a sparrow fly by, and an image of Little Fat Chirp popped into my head, gradually triggering memories of this place. Later, I went to the grocery store to pick up supplies and ran into the actress and her overly-jealous husband, sneaking around the store. It turns out they live in Nightlight City. My curiosity got the best of me, so I struck up a conversation, but they didn’t remember a thing about the sea.”

That one conversation had nearly exhausted a year’s worth of her courage.

Jiu Hua returned to her place with a calm face, but as soon as she closed the door, her “full defense mechanism” dropped, and she stood there, reeling.

The next morning, she turned into a starfish again.

But after two trials today, she had figured out the trick to freely coming and going from this sea.

Qingmei exhaled with relief. So, it wasn’t that the actress didn’t want to help her; she had just forgotten. Knowing this lifted a weight from her heart.

She looked at Jiu Hua again. “I heard from the shopkeeper that you’ve been here many times. Will you forget about this place again when you go back?”

Jiu Hua shook her head. “There’s a delay, but I’ll soon recall everything again.”

Excitement sparked in Qingmei’s eyes as she leaned forward and clasped Jiu Hua’s hands. “There’s something I’d like to ask of you. It might be a bit of trouble, but there’s no one else here who can help me except you.”

Being needed felt wonderful, and Jiu Hua could guess what Qingmei wanted to ask.

But she had already spent her year’s quota of courage and couldn’t muster up the strength to go out again.

What she had told Lu Yao about her social anxiety wasn’t a lie.

It was simply that here, in the sea, she felt comfortable and at ease. Somehow, being a starfish just felt better to her than being human.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️