Ch 171: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

Lu Yao was stunned by the task notification, momentarily unsure how to react.

The system waited, and when she didn’t respond, it couldn’t help itself: “Shopkeeper, why aren’t you saying anything?”

Lu Yao: “What’s there to say? Including this task upgrade, we only have three screening rooms. How are we supposed to schedule ten films in three rooms over a month? And as for funding, even low-budget rights will cost at least twenty to thirty million. If I push hard and streamline things, I might barely make it work. But can the Liangjing public quickly handle the wave of cultural impact? There are so many issues.”

System: “After confirmation, this task is deemed appropriate. Since the store’s business scope is determined by the shopkeeper, any issues in management are the shopkeeper’s responsibility. You’ve opened four stores already; raising such unreasonable questions is simply impolite.”

Lu Yao: “…”

System: “Any other questions?”

Lu Yao: “If you can’t solve my problems, then what’s the point in asking? I just feel like, as a dream fulfillment system, you rarely mention dreams these days. Is something up?”

System: “…Nothing. Rather than daydreaming, the shopkeeper should focus more on managing the store.”

Lu Yao frowned. The system did seem a bit different.

【Congratulations! Lu Yao’s Interdimensional Cinema is now a two-star shop! Added: +2 screening rooms, total capacity expanded to fifty! Keep up the great work, shopkeeper!】

Lu Yao raised an eyebrow. So, adjustments were possible after all?

The system’s little tail had been revealed.

She turned and left the screening room. “For this upgrade, I’ll draw up the blueprints for you soon. Start by posting some job notices.”

The cinema’s current staff was just enough to get by, but with the upgrade, more employees would be needed. Lu Yao had been wanting to hire janitorial staff but hadn’t found any suitable candidates, so the current employees took turns with cleaning duties. Considering the era’s norms, she needed one male and one female janitor. For the expanded screening rooms, she also wanted two ticket-checking and guest-guiding staff members.

The system reported it had spread the hiring notices, not only at the cinema’s entrance but also on the East Market’s bulletin board.

Lu Yao returned to the lounge to draw up the expansion plans, handing them over to the system when finished.

The system hesitated upon receiving them: “I recall the upgrade was for three screening rooms?”

Lu Yao: “It is.”

System: “…Then what did you draw? Why does it show seven rooms?”

Lu Yao: “I thought it over. Screening ten new films within a month with only three screening rooms isn’t feasible. And just this morning, you saw how many women were cross-dressing to come to the cinema. Gender restrictions might not be an issue for us, but for them, it’s crucial.

“Since ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do,’ to retain these customers, we need to design from their perspective. My blueprint technically shows seven rooms, but three of those are mini-theaters holding only ten seats each, and one is a small room holding twenty. The remaining three simply divide two large theaters into three smaller rooms—two rooms with thirty seats and one with forty seats.

“This setup adds 150 seats per showtime, which is the same increase as upgrading with three screening rooms, but we’re actually only expanding by three rooms.”

On the new blueprint, Lu Yao planned to divide the two new screening rooms into three smaller theaters, designated as Rooms 3, 4, and 5 on the theater side. Meanwhile, the three mini-theaters and one small theater would be added on the lounge side, designated as Rooms 1, 2, 3, and 4. These would be available for customers who preferred private viewing, similar to private rooms in restaurants and tea houses, and could be reserved in advance at a slightly higher price than the regular screening rooms.

The system, however, rejected this upgrade proposal outright.

Lu Yao had expected this and remained calm. “You said operational issues should be solved by the shopkeeper, and here I am offering a solution. If you’re not willing to cooperate, whose problem is that?”

System: “…Swindler! Taking advantage of me! I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

Lu Yao: “Resorting to pouting when you can’t win an argument? That’s not a mature system’s behavior.”

The system was nearly infuriated. This woman always found loopholes in the rules to mess with it.

Earlier, the system had quietly calculated the plan. Based on her upgrade proposal, since the number of guests wouldn’t increase, it could indeed be implemented.

But it didn’t want to give in so easily.

The system took a deep breath, suppressing its irritation. “This upgrade plan is too overbearing. The number of guests remains the same, but the scale of the upgrade is completely different. You’ll need four additional screens, plus new bathrooms, a fire safety system, surveillance, and emergency exits on the lounge side. Don’t think I don’t understand!”

Lu Yao exhaled, feigning frustration. “You caught all that? Did you take some kind of smart pill recently?”

System, embarrassed: “There’s no such pill!!! Either way, I’m not approving this upgrade!”

Lu Yao scratched her head, looking troubled, hesitating for a moment. “This task really is difficult for me. The screening rooms need to be upgraded as I envision them, or as the shop owner, I’ll feel like I don’t have the freedom I deserve.”

System: “…”

With a feigned weak sigh, the shopkeeper continued, “How about this? I’ll deduct some of my popularity points to cover the extra costs so it’s not all on you.”

The system hesitated, slightly interested. “How many popularity points are you offering?”

Lu Yao blinked, “I’m not sure. What do you think?”

System: “One million.”

Lu Yao: “Two hundred thousand.”

System: “…I don’t want to talk to you.”

Lu Yao: “How about four hundred thousand? Any more would be impolite.”

System: “…Deal.”

Lu Yao lowered her head, smirking to herself. The system really was adorable.

The cinema upgrade would take place that evening, but given the large scale, it would require some cover-up work, likely taking six or seven days to gradually reopen.

…

In the morning, two premiere showings of When Blossoms Fall played. Inside the theater, the audience was silent.

The noble ladies, who had initially regretted coming to the cinema on a whim, were now completely captivated by the plot.

The assassination scene in the bath was stunning, instantly grabbing everyone’s attention.

The next moment, thunder crashed, extinguishing the candlelight, while rain dripped on the plantain leaves outside the window, creating an ominous, gloomy atmosphere.

After an unknown amount of time, the rain faded.

A single dim lamp illuminated a small area before an old desk.

A slender man in disheveled nightwear and a woman in a black night outfit stared at each other, both with eyes full of disbelief, tinged with anxious unease.

On this stormy night, the male lead, Shen Xiangjun, and the female assassin, Hua Shi, had swapped souls.

Sitting in the corner, Xie Wan, with her brother Xie Xu beside her, reached into the popcorn bucket, both frozen in place, eyes fixed on the screen, too engrossed to look away.

Their bodies and souls really swapped—in such a dramatic situation, vividly portrayed with strong emotions and imagery, no imagination required.

What would happen next?

They were desperate to know immediately!

After a brief standoff, Shen Xiangjun discovered a broken dagger at Hua Shi’s waist, immediately drawing it and attempting to strike the intruder in his body.

Quick-witted, Hua Shi leapt back three steps and drew a longsword from the low table behind her, holding it to her throat. “Stay back, or I won’t be polite.”

Shen Xiangjun: “…”

He slowly lowered the dagger, feeling foolish for attempting an attack.

After several rounds of verbal sparring, the two sat down again, resolving to calmly find a solution to their predicament.

They recreated the scene of the soul swap, hoping to reclaim their bodies, but to no avail.

Hua Shi then suggested that since it was thundering during the soul swap, perhaps they would need another thunderstorm to switch back.

The next day, the usually aloof Lord Shen suddenly had a beautiful young maid by his side.

This maid had a fiery temper, an odd personality, and a sharp tongue, yet Lord Shen pampered her endlessly.

The other maids in the Shen family’s outer courtyard were green with jealousy, practically sour to the core.

Soon, the maid named Hua Shi began facing both open and hidden difficulties.

Unaware that the “Hua Shi” they were mistreating was actually Lord Shen himself, the other maids hurled insults, set traps, and found endless ways to make trouble.

Those watching the drama couldn’t help but find it amusing as they saw “Hua Shi” getting bullied and locked in the woodshed, only to be rescued by the “Lord Shen” who rushed back after court. The irony was striking.

The maids could never have guessed that the “Hua Shi” they envied and hated was, in fact, their own master. Even as they were eventually dismissed, they resented Hua Shi until the end.

Wan Baozhu arrived early, choosing a seat at the back as usual. Her maid Hongyu was busy seeking a chance to enter the theater, so today Wan Baozhu was accompanied by her other maid, Cuizhu.

Cuizhu had been initially reluctant to go to the cinema, but after watching The Little Chef with Wan Baozhu once, she eagerly awaited every day for her lady to bring her along again.

As servants, they usually had to stay close to their masters, not like common folk who could go out whenever they pleased. They needed a proper reason to leave the household, and even then, they couldn’t stay out for hours.

Wan Baozhu wasn’t particularly strict with her servants, so she noticed Cuizhu’s little excitement and found it amusing.

Watching the scene of “Hua Shi” being harassed, Cuizhu couldn’t help but recall her early days as a junior maid in the palace, tears welling up in her eyes.

This story was beautiful but also brutally real.

When “Hua Shi” was rescued by the “Lord Shen” who rushed back from court, Cuizhu felt moved but couldn’t help a smile.

“Lord Shen” carried “Hua Shi” out of the woodshed in a princess carry, shocking the entire residence.

Shen Xiangjun was known as a frail scholar, often sickly and short-tempered, having made his fair share of enemies in court.

When Hua Shi took over his body, she secretly trained whenever she went out, eventually becoming stronger than Shen Xiangjun himself.

Their situation, though improper, was handled with such humor that it won the audience over.

This small incident brought Shen Xiangjun and Hua Shi closer, with the laughter continuing to build.

In court, Lord Shen was known as the “Cold-Faced King,” with few friends.

However, when Hua Shi used his body and identity in court, she somehow made him more likable than he ever had been.

One day, “Lord Shen” was out socializing and returned home with a light flush and a twinkle in his eyes after some drinks.

A servant reported that Lord Shen’s personal maid had suddenly taken ill and couldn’t get out of bed.

“Lord Shen” immediately sobered up and hurried home under the knowing looks of his colleagues.

He entered the inner courtyard, dismissed everyone, and went alone to “Hua Shi’s” room.

Inside, “Hua Shi” lay on the bed, forehead and cheeks beaded with cold sweat, her lips pale.

Before he even approached, the smell of alcohol wafted over.

“Hua Shi,” feeling weak and unable to move from the pain, recalled how he’d been out drinking in her body while she suffered back in the manor, and felt a flash of anger.

But “Hua Shi” wasn’t actually sick—she was experiencing her period.

When the real Hua Shi uttered the words “period,” the “Hua Shi” lying in bed turned even paler, while the audience outside the screen felt heat rise from their toes straight to their heads.

The plot and dialogue of this movie were groundbreaking, touching on topics the audience would never discuss so openly in their daily lives.

And the intense storyline continued—”Lord Shen” taught “Hua Shi” how to use menstrual pads, fetched her hot water, and tended to her through the night.

In the still of the night, “Hua Shi,” suffering from cramps, tossed and turned, unable to sleep. “Lord Shen” lifted the blanket, gently placed a hand over her stomach, and stayed by her side all night.

In the screening room, some viewers showed puzzled expressions, then a look of realization—so menstrual pain could be this intense. Along the way, they picked up a few physiological facts, learning that women shouldn’t touch cold water, avoid overexertion, and need understanding when they’re irritable.

Because, apparently, it really does hurt.

On the screen, the two continued exploring the world from each other’s perspectives, trying different ways to swap back, while their bond quietly grew stronger.

Sitting a row behind Xie Xu, Prince Jin, with flushed ears, glanced sideways at Chen Yuning, who couldn’t contain his amusement. Chen Yuning’s mind couldn’t help but imagine certain ridiculous scenarios, seeing “Shen Xiangjun” with a female body as people he disliked, even the stoic Prince Jin, nearly grinning ear to ear.

Whoever wrote these scenes was a genius!

After the “period” incident, the atmosphere between Shen Xiangjun and Hua Shi became awkward, and they started avoiding each other.

Then, at a banquet, the emperor’s beloved princess noticed “Lord Shen” and was surprised by his new gentleness—he no longer seemed like an unfeeling statue but was somehow more likable.

The princess’s overwhelming affection soon became too much for “Lord Shen,” who, unable to bear it, reluctantly sought Hua Shi for advice.

Hua Shi, arms crossed and looking pensive, replied, “Why do you think I’ve always kept people at arm’s length?”

It was precisely to avoid unnecessary trouble. This guy had wrecked his reputation and attracted all kinds of admirers. Just thinking about it was infuriating.

In the audience, Cuizhu glanced at Wan Baozhu’s expression.

Wan Baozhu’s gaze remained calm, unlike the other audience members, who were laughing uproariously. However, she didn’t seem upset either.

Hua Shi suggested that “Lord Shen” revert to his cold, distant demeanor to discourage the princess’s affections.

After considering it, “Lord Shen” found an opportunity to speak privately with the princess at a later banquet, expressing his true feelings sincerely.

Though the princess was heartbroken, she didn’t pursue the matter further.

Meanwhile, Hua Shi silently apologized to Shen Xiangjun in her heart, realizing this might affect his career.

Later, she told him this was the first time anyone had shown her affection. Even though it happened in his body, it made her genuinely happy, and she didn’t want to take it lightly.

Shen Xiangjun’s gaze darkened, and he remained silent for a long while.

Wan Baozhu raised an eyebrow, a hint of interest in her eyes.

This “movie” experience was always full of surprises.

The plot built toward a climax, revealing Hua Shi’s past.

She was an orphan; her parents had perished in a famine over a decade ago. She had wandered alone until she was chased by bandits and fell off a cliff, barely surviving.

Unconscious, she was saved but trained to be an assassin, taking on her first kill before she was even ten.

In recent years, political unrest had plagued the court, and natural disasters made life increasingly hard for commoners.

One day, her guardian absconded with their funds, leaving her and many half-trained street children behind.

These children were all being trained as assassins. Choosing between killing and starvation was hardly a choice at all, but even that choice was taken from them.

Unable to let them follow her dark path, Hua Shi used her sparse connections and continued her assassin missions to support the children.

The assassination of Shen Xiangjun was intended as her final mission—the client had offered enough money for her to start a new life with the children.

But fate had other plans. She got trapped in this last mission, sinking deeper and deeper.

As Hua Shi moved through the outside world in “Lord Shen’s” identity, she pieced together his backstory—a child from a humble family, orphaned early, subjected to oppression by his kin, plagued by poor health. He defied fate, studying diligently for nearly a decade, finally rising to fame.

From then on, Shen Xiangjun advanced his position carefully, just one step away from becoming a close confidant of the emperor.

His ambition was vast—to be second only to one, commanding respect from all, bringing honor to his family, and leaving a legacy for generations. But even with all his efforts, moving any closer was nearly impossible.

The one who hired the assassin, the political situation in the court, and Shen Xiangjun’s career path—all three threads converged, concealing a great shadow of power struggles and corruption, as a looming crisis paralleled the intense, unspoken bond between Shen Xiangjun and Hua Shi.

By this point in the story, no one cared whether their interactions were proper or logical, nor did they question if their behavior was overly familiar. The audience only wanted to see the two of them face the crisis together and reach a joyful, fulfilling ending.

…

Lu Yao left the lounge, instructing Fu Chi to watch the cinema while she headed to Night light city. This latest mission was merciless; she had to accelerate the progress of introducing new films.

Suddenly, an announcement echoed: the premiere of When Blossoms Fall had just concluded.

As Lu Yao reached the ticket checkpoint, she called out to Ku Ba, intending to ask him not to rush off after work, but he turned around with tearful eyes, crying like a sad puppy. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Ku Ba sniffled, wiped his face with his sleeve, and gave Lu Yao a weak glare before turning to guide the exiting guests.

Nearly all the guests had red eyes, as though they’d all just had a good cry.

Some even started sobbing again as they walked, calling out for Hua Shi and Shen Xiangjun through muffled voices.

The noble ladies who had come in disguise quickly boarded their carriages, eyes swollen from tears.

Those who had tickets for the second screening waited in the lounge, looking nervous after seeing the tearful crowd leaving. Could the film really be bad?

Oh no! The tickets were pricier this time—if the movie was disappointing, they’d be heartbroken!

Someone stopped a guest exiting the screening room and asked cautiously, “Was it not good?”

The person wiped their face furiously with their sleeve and glared. “You have to see it! You’ll regret it if you don’t!”

Then they burst into tears again, leaving the questioner thoroughly puzzled.

Lu Yao tried to stifle her laughter as she peeked around. But as she turned, she spotted Zhu Zhu, eyes brimming with tears, and swallowed her laughter, saying seriously, “Alright, I’m off. I have something to handle today.”

Zhu Zhu grabbed Lu Yao’s sleeve, clinging to her and wailing loudly, “Boss, I feel so terrible! Why, why?!”

Lu Yao turned back, hugging Zhu Zhu to comfort her, “There, there. Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

The system, seemingly in a rebellious phase, seized the moment to tease the shopkeeper: “Go on, keep pretending! You’re the one behind all this heartbreak!”

Lu Yao wanted to laugh but held back, fearing it might further upset Zhu Zhu’s delicate heart. She took deep breaths to steady her emotions.

The TV and film versions of When Blossoms Fall had different endings: the TV version was a happy ending, where Lord Shen overcame all obstacles to marry Hua Shi, while the film version had an open ending.

Both versions were owned by the same company, and the price they offered was the same.

Lu Yao quickly reviewed both and ultimately chose the film version.

Judging from today’s audience reaction, it seemed her gamble had paid off.

There were tears and laughter, joy and sorrow, hope and regret—the rollercoaster of emotions made for a richer experience than a straightforward happy ending.

In the film’s conclusion, Shen Xiangjun and Hua Shi joined forces to rid the court of corruption, punishing the wicked, and resolving the disasters and bandit issues plaguing Hua Shi’s hometown. At last, their souls returned to their rightful bodies.

Through Hua Shi’s perspective, Shen Xiangjun once again witnessed the struggles of the common people, reshaping his ambition with a sense of noble purpose.

Hua Shi, having seen the treachery of the court and Shen Xiangjun’s careful, perilous steps, knew she could no longer help him.

A memory surfaced of wild chrysanthemums swaying on the hillside near her old home, filling her with a longing to return.

Hua Shi bid farewell to Shen Xiangjun and left the capital with her group of children, returning to the impoverished mountain region.

Years later, Shen Xiangjun, now a renowned minister, passed through the mountains, stopping to seek treatment as the damp air affected his health.

He stumbled upon an academy with its gates wide open, where the sound of students reading filled the air.

Trembling, he approached the entrance, seeing young students of both genders. A female teacher held a book, her voice slightly hoarse, her face weathered by the years.

Sensing something, she looked up. Her dark eyes were as clear and boundless as ever.

Shen Xiangjun paused.

A breeze stirred, and the apricot tree beside the earthen wall rustled softly. Blossoms fell like snow.

Shen Xiangjun reached out instinctively, but grasped nothing.

Years had passed.

When the blossoms fall, they meet again.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Thingyan: Is it really ok to show a movie about the ancient royal family? 😳