Ch 152: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

“What’s going on here?”

“Could it be that the bookstore got new books?”

“Let’s go check it out!”

Two students hurriedly squeezed into the crowd, lifting their heads to see that the once-abandoned shop next to Rongxi Book House had been newly renovated. The polished black walls shone, the floor was freshly tiled with sleek, dark green tiles, and there was a large transparent wall, allowing a clear view of the shop’s interior. Over the door, an eye-catching, oversized sign hung prominently.

One person couldn’t help but read it aloud: “‘Lu Yao’s Interdimensional Cinema’—what does that mean?”

Another chimed in, “I walked by this morning, and it didn’t look like this.”

The owner of Rongxi Book House, Rong Shenghua, stood nearby, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing up at the cinema with a puzzled expression. “This shop has been vacant for nearly two years, and I haven’t heard of anyone inquiring about it. How did it suddenly get taken over?”

The owner of Chunxi Lou, standing beside him, remarked, “This renovation looks very unusual. I wonder what sort of shop it will be.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. “The feng shui here is said to be unfavorable. No matter the business, none of the shops last more than three months.”

The cinema now stood in the middle of Song’an Street, sandwiched between Rongxi Book House and Chunxi Lou. It should have been prime real estate, yet, for some unknown reason, previous owners had struggled to keep the shop open. Some lasted three months, others just a month, before the “For Lease” sign appeared again.

A student from Song’an Academy interjected, “I saw a woman enter the shop earlier this morning.”

Rong Shenghua turned, intrigued. “A woman?”

“Yes. She had a refined appearance, but her attire was… peculiar. Many saw her this morning,” the student added cautiously, lowering his eyes with a faint blush.

The locals of Song’an Street grew more curious about this strange shop and its owner. But since the shop hadn’t officially opened, they dispersed after taking in the scene, casting a few last glances as they passed.

…

Lu Yao left the task of negotiating film rights to Ji Zhixin. He was knowledgeable and had connections. Ji Zhixin assured her that he could negotiate all the films she’d picked out, and if all went well, the process would be completed within three to five days.

In the afternoon, the cinema maintenance was finished. Lu Yao took a quick tour inside.

The ticket counter was directly opposite the entrance, with a waiting area to the left, furnished with glass tables and leather chairs. An outdoor screen facing the street played movie trailers and ads, visible to passersby. On the right was Screening Room One, currently the only theater space, with a capacity for thirty viewers. Exiting Screening Room One and turning right led to the restrooms.

The space was somewhat small, but everything was up to Lu Yao’s specifications. It would be ideal after some upgrades.

“We need to hire some staff—put up a recruitment notice for me,” Lu Yao instructed the system.

Typically, she preferred hiring staff locally when setting up shops in other worlds. For now, she planned to recruit a ticket seller, a ticket checker, and a cleaner—three positions in total. They’d train for a couple of days before the first screenings started, ensuring they were fully prepared.

Since this was her first time setting up in an ancient world, Lu Yao worried about finding suitable candidates.

Within an hour of the notice going up, a few curious onlookers gathered outside, but most, after a long, hesitant glance, decided against entering. Lu Yao had changed into a long-sleeved shirt and black pants for the occasion, covering herself from head to toe, but to the people of Liangjing, it still looked as if she were wandering around in her undergarments.

After a long afternoon, only one young girl left her name: Zhu Zhu.

Zhu Zhu explained that her parents ran a small business in Liangjing, and if they agreed, she would return. Just thirteen years old, she already helped her family with chores and bookkeeping. Not fully understanding the terms “ticket seller” or “ticket checker,” she did recognize the generous wages, which were far better than other manual labor jobs, and asked about the position out of curiosity.

After Zhu Zhu left, no one else came to inquire.

As night fell, the streets grew quiet, with fewer passersby. Lu Yao closed up her shop and returned to the shopping street, where it was still afternoon. After some thought, she stopped by the nail salon to grab a camera, then headed to the fishing room in the Little Pet Cafe to find Ji Zhixin.

Ji Zhixin had finished his duties as the operator and was now leisurely petting a small seal on the pier. Fu Chi was also there, reaching over to grab a mooncake from a nearby snack tray. He had taken a particular liking to the flower-and-herb mooncakes from the snack shop, even trying to buy a large box to take home last night.

Given that he had deposited ten million into the shopping street’s account after signing his confidentiality agreement, Lu Yao had generously gifted him a box. However, since he couldn’t take the box out of the store, Fu Chi still had to visit to enjoy them.

Lu Yao squeezed between the two and took a seat, turning to Ji Zhixin. “I’d like to shoot an ad. Could you help me?”

“What kind of ad?” Ji Zhixin asked, agreeing naturally.

“A recruitment ad for the cinema,” Lu Yao replied.

Hearing this, Fu Chi’s expression shifted slightly, though he remained silent.

Ji Zhixin glanced at Fu Chi and then smiled subtly. “I nearly forgot—if it’s about filming, Director Fu here is the real expert.”

Lu Yao turned to Fu Chi, puzzled. “Director Fu?”

Ji Zhixin nodded. “Didn’t he tell you? Fu Chi is a well-known director in the industry.”

Lu Yao shook her head. She only knew that Bai Jing would be bringing a patient to the shop, but she hadn’t inquired further.

Fu Chi lowered his gaze, his voice somber. “I haven’t directed in a long time. Now, I’m just a drifter.”

Mentioning his past, Fu Chi’s aura grew weary, and his shoulders slumped as if burdened, leaving him unwilling to speak further.

Sensing that he wasn’t in the mood to continue, Lu Yao refrained from pressing the topic. She moved with Ji Zhixin to another part of the pier and spent a few hours shooting the necessary footage.

Later, Lu Yao took the camera back to the nail salon and spent a few more hours on post-production. Having done similar small ads for the blind box shop before, she managed the basic editing herself and left the voice-over and subtitles to the system. Since the system could handle language coverage for other worlds and mimic Lu Yao’s voice, it seamlessly adapted and modified the content.

Working well into the night, Lu Yao meticulously reviewed the video several times to ensure it was flawless before finally going to sleep.

…

The next morning in the Great Wu Dynasty.

A crowd had gathered along Song’an Street, squeezed between Rongxi Book House and Chunxi Lou, peering through the transparent glass into the cinema and buzzing with curiosity.

“What is that thing?”

“Why is that person moving in that tiny box?”

“What’s she saying?”

With so many people at the entrance, Zhu Zhu and her parents struggled to get inside and were stuck outside, barely able to move.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️