Ch 197: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

After Someday or One Day premiered, Lu Yao had been waiting for the task to complete.

The little chef and Seeking Immortals were still updating and would soon bring the number of new films shown to ten.

However, the day hadn’t even begun, which meant the task must have completed the day before.

Receiving the reminder now seemed a bit delayed.

Lu Yao decided to ask directly, “The task was completed yesterday. Why the delay in notifying me?”

System: “Well… the system underwent maintenance yesterday, so I couldn’t update the task status on time.”

Lu Yao replied, “Oh, so the Dream Fulfillment System also has maintenance and upgrades.”

System: “Phones get system updates regularly; of course, I can too!”

Lu Yao said, “I see. You’d just never mentioned it before, so I was a bit surprised. And keep your voice down; it’s a bit loud.”

System: “…I… I wasn’t being loud. Really, you’ve just not been that fond of me lately, so now it feels like everything I do is wrong.”

It seemed the system was feeling a bit emotional.

Lu Yao chuckled, “When did I say I didn’t like you? You’re just a system; why all the sulking?”

Clearly unfazed, she poked fun at the system’s lack of resilience.

System, grumbling: “Fine, I’m not talking to you!”

Lu Yao called out again, “So, what new features did you add? Let’s see.”

Opening the system page, Lu Yao didn’t immediately notice any changes. She clicked into the map under the Owner’s Status section, where five shops that used to be grayed out now glowed gold, with their signs illuminated.

She tapped on the snack shop, and a projection appeared in front of her, displaying the shop’s real-time status, including the staff, customers, sales data, and operations—all in full detail.

Before, only active shops were marked in gold, while unopened shops remained gray, without any recorded data.

Lu Yao checked the nail salon, the blind box store, and the pet cafe, finding she could monitor each store in real time.

“So, this is the new upgrade feature?” she asked.

System: “Why, is there a problem?”

Last night, the system had truly undergone maintenance, which had been scheduled to occur only after the first ten-star shop opened.

But the owner’s ability had exceeded expectations, particularly with her unique choices for each shop, completing tasks in each world with near-perfect results.

And the first ten-star shop, which was thought to be far off, seemed within reach before the New Year.

That wish… maybe it could actually be realized.

The system didn’t entirely understand why “They” were so afraid of that wish coming true.

“No complaints; I actually like it,” Lu Yao said, finding the feature practical.

With more shops opening, it was getting harder to keep track of each one, so the real-time monitoring would save a lot of time.

The system, feeling unexpectedly happy yet a bit bashful, was reassured.

Monitoring each shop’s performance would allow the system to reassess how the otherworldly stores impacted each world, ensuring better coordinate selection for future shops.

To avoid further interference like with the third and fourth shops, the system had adopted a quieter approach to gradually increasing the difficulty of tasks in upcoming worlds.

After testing out the new feature, Lu Yao’s thoughts returned to the cinema’s expansion.

The task rewards included three additional regular screening rooms, while the cinema’s four-star upgrade granted an extra 3D screening room. Plus, from her three-star upgrade, she’d received three more regular rooms and a claw machine, all to be installed on the second floor.

The construction sign for the second-floor expansion had been up for some time, and the staircase was right by Theater 1 in the main screening area, prompting curious glances from patrons.

After one more maintenance session tonight, the new screening rooms, the 3D theater, and the claw machine would be ready for operation the next day.

The three new screening rooms were, as before, medium-sized with a forty-seat capacity, and one smaller room could seat thirty.

With this setup, the second floor now boasts six medium-sized screening rooms, two smaller rooms, and one fifty-seat 3D theater, adding up to a total of eight new screening rooms.

The once-tight schedule of screening rooms would now ease up considerably. When promoting new releases, other films wouldn’t have to be crammed in, and there might even be room to add a few more showings of popular dramas.

Lu Yao stood by the window on the second floor, looking down, then walked onto the street and looked up, gesturing with her hand. “I think we could add a screen on the second floor—bigger and more eye-catching than the two downstairs.”

The system was not surprised by her idea and replied wearily, “Too many upgrades all at once wouldn’t look natural. Plus, self-funded expansions are expensive.”

Lu Yao thought it over, “How much would it cost if you handled it?”

The system hesitated before quoting: “About… one million popularity points.”

Lu Yao raised an eyebrow. “For just one screen?”

System: “Yes… just one.”

Lu Yao continued, “So, renovation costs increase with each upgrade?”

System: “For upgrades beyond task rewards, this system implements a flexible pricing model.”

That was quite the bold approach.

Lu Yao nodded, “Flexible, indeed. Well, let’s just upgrade the areas within the task rewards tonight.”

Relieved, the system thought Lu Yao had dropped the idea.

The plan for the second-floor upgrades was set, with maintenance scheduled to start after the shop closed for the evening.

Lu Yao went to find Fu Chi to discuss the addition of the 3D screening room.

For the first 3D theater, she wanted to select a film that would fully showcase the immersive advantages of 3D. However, since the reward had been somewhat unexpected, her current list of potential films didn’t include anything suitable.

With the second-floor upgrades, the staff schedule would also need adjusting.

When she found Fu Chi, he was standing by a machine, gazing through the glass at the street outside, seemingly lost in thought.

Lu Yao walked over and tapped him on the shoulder.

He snapped back to reality, his expression briefly uneasy.

Lu Yao watched him, frowning slightly. “Are you okay?”

Fu Chi looked down, “I’m fine. Is something up?”

She had already noticed his odd behavior—ever since they went out to eat together, he seemed to zone out often, and when he saw her, he’d subconsciously look away.

“It’s just a small matter about the cinema, nothing urgent. Are you sure you’re okay?” Lu Yao asked.

Fu Chi lowered his gaze, his mind elsewhere.

A few days ago, Ji Zhixin had returned from Tianji, fully recovered and able to move freely even outside the pet cafe. Fu Chi had asked Ji Zhixin about it and learned that it was thanks to the shop owner.

That night, he’d called Qi Jue, who confirmed that he knew Lu Yao and that they’d met because of Qi Shen’s accident. However, Qi Jue had also emphasized that Lu Yao had no involvement in what happened to Qi Shen.

Yet, Fu Chi increasingly felt that the man in the ad was indeed Qi Shen, although he couldn’t quite make sense of it.

The situation was becoming more complicated, and his curiosity was becoming harder to suppress.

After a moment, Lu Yao waved her hand in front of his face. “Hey, you okay?”

Fu Chi snapped out of it, took a step back, and shook his head. But then he looked up, meeting her gaze. “Shop owner, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Lu Yao looked at him with a patient expression.

Fu Chi opened his mouth, hesitated, then decided to pull Lu Yao into the back room of the break area. He brought up the previous popcorn-and-soda ad series, selecting the video labeled “3” and pausing on a specific frame.

When Lu Yao saw Qi Shen, she felt a sudden suspicion stir within her.

The next second, Fu Chi pointed at the man on the screen and looked at Lu Yao. “This man resembles a friend of mine who, a few months ago, was involved in a murder case and, unfortunately, passed away.”

He observed her reaction, but Lu Yao’s expression remained calm, showing no signs of unease or guilt.

Fu Chi continued, “I was still in the country then and attended his funeral. I was certain he was gone. Yet, a few months later, I unexpectedly saw him here, in this ad. I even asked Qi Jue about it. He told me Qi Shen had met you before the incident and that he came to see you afterward as well.”

Lu Yao mentally cursed her oversight—not realizing that someone on her staff might recognize Qi Shen. She tapped the system for help. “What now?”

The system, equally unprepared, suggested, “Memory erasure?”

It was a good solution, but Lu Yao hesitated, recalling her own missing memories.

Deciding to bluff first, she replied, “You must have mistaken him for someone else. That guy was just an extra we hired from the snack shop.”

Fu Chi countered, “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. He used to talk about selling his amusement park one day to open a quiet café, where he’d brew coffee, bake pastries, and read. The ad was shot at the snack shop, right? I can even see the giant Ferris wheel across the river in the background.”

…Fu Chi’s logic was clear; it seemed bluffing wouldn’t work.

Lu Yao replied, “Let me ask you first—what do you intend to do?”

Fu Chi scratched his head, troubled. “When he was found, it was a terrible sight. I just can’t understand how he’s here, in this street.”

Lu Yao asked, “Now that you’re working at the cinema, are you feeling better?”

He nodded.

After a moment of thought, she said, “I get where you’re coming from. But no matter how much we dwell on what’s happened, it doesn’t help with the reality we live in.”

Pausing briefly, she added, “But if the answer could help you, then maybe it’s worth pursuing.”

Fu Chi watched her closely, one eyebrow raised slightly, unsure of her meaning.

Lu Yao stood up, “I’ll need his permission first. If you’re certain you want to see him, you’ll also need to sign an additional contract. When your work here at the cinema ends and you leave this street, those unnecessary memories will disappear.”

Fu Chi’s heart raced, his expression slipping in disbelief.

After discussing his long-standing concerns with the shop owner, it seemed he had a solution within five minutes.

For some reason, he suddenly felt his recent sleepless anxiety had been a bit unnecessary.

The permission Lu Yao mentioned wasn’t just from Qi Shen but also from the Dreamland itself. In Dreamland, Qi Shen was a resident. Theoretically, Qi Shen had indeed died in the real world. Even though he retained his human memories and experiences, he was now fundamentally a native of Dreamland. If he wished to meet Fu Chi, there would likely be some protocols to follow.

Lu Yao went to find Bai Jian, the head guard.

The head guard, however, was rather nonchalant and told her to handle it herself.

On her way out of Dreamland, she glanced over to see that the film studio next to the ninety-ninth floor had been completed.

Xiao Qie informed her that they’d already chosen a script and were currently live-streaming auditions to find suitable actors. A new casting channel had even been set up at the entrance, keeping the guards and NPCs busy.

Xiao Qie added that the newly completed film studio was an ancient city replica, intended for historical dramas. Adjacent to it, another area was being developed for a medieval architectural set, allowing for future historical dramas. A modern idol drama set would also be added later.

Their ambitions were high, and it was an excellent way to pass the time. A win-win situation.

Upon returning from Dreamland, Lu Yao sought out Qi Shen to discuss Fu Chi’s situation.

Qi Shen was behind the counter, polishing a glass. He stayed silent for a while, only speaking in a soft tone once he’d made the glass gleam: “I’ll think about it.”

Qi Shen had changed a lot, his demeanor entirely different from when he first arrived. Lu Yao observed him for a moment, sensing a hint of distraction, but dismissed the thought as overthinking.

“If you’re not interested in going outside the shop,” Lu Yao suggested, “the head guard can arrange for a meeting in Dreamland.”

Among the snack shop’s staff, Qi Shen was the only one who hadn’t formed a binding contract with Lu Yao. He stayed on the second floor of the café and hadn’t once stepped outside the shop. The others found it puzzling; even though he could easily access the world he once lived in, Qi Shen seemed entirely uninterested.

Qi Shen said he’d need three days to decide, and Lu Yao relayed this to Fu Chi.

Waiting for those three days put Fu Chi’s mind at ease, and he returned to his usual self.

Once he’d gathered his thoughts, Fu Chi remembered Lu Yao had initially approached him about something, so he asked, “You mentioned earlier that there was something with the cinema?”

Lu Yao replied, “Yes, the second floor will open for regular business tomorrow, including a 3D theater. I wanted to know if you had any recommendations for films.”

Fu Chi thought about the recent additions to the cinema’s collection but realized there were no ideal options. “For 3D effects, I’d recommend sci-fi, natural disaster, or zombie-themed movies.”

Lu Yao shivered. “…That’s a bit intense, don’t you think?”

Fu Chi adjusted his glasses. “If we’re going for thrill, might as well go all the way.”

Lu Yao covered her face. “Director Fu, I liked you more when you were calm and reserved.”

As they passed by, Ku Ba overheard, giving them a wide-eyed look, as if shocked by the “relationship” he had just uncovered.

Ignoring Ku Ba, Lu Yao continued discussing the film selection with Fu Chi and mentioned her idea to add a large screen to the second floor.

Fu Chi immediately agreed, noting that while the two screens on the first floor were attention-grabbing, they weren’t prominent enough to catch someone’s eye from afar. Adding a huge screen on the second floor, visible from streets away, could elevate both movie promotions and advertisements.

Though Fu Chi had connections for this, the real challenge was installation, as no one but Lu Yao could fully enter this world.

For now, the screen installation was on hold.

Unfazed, Lu Yao asked Fu Chi and Ji Zhixin to prepare a list of possible 3D film options, eager to debut a 3D movie in the cinema.

…

By evening, two riders sped into Liangjing.

Jin Lu and Qi Wu found an inn to stay, dropping off their luggage before immediately heading out to ask about the cinema. To their surprise, the cinema’s reputation was even greater than expected; anyone they stopped on the street spoke of it with excitement, eager to share stories.

It was only two streets from their inn, but they ended up hearing so many versions of the cinema’s tales that it took them half an hour to finally reach the famed location.

Jin Lu stood in front of the glass doors, staring in awe at the unique structure. “Truly, seeing is believing.”

Qi Wu, meanwhile, was drawn to the ad screen by the door, which was playing the Chunxi Lou commercial. She kept glancing between the ad and the tea house next door, tugging on Jin Lu’s sleeve excitedly. “Xiao Liu, look! This inside looks just like that tea house next door.”

Jin Lu was stunned. “So… this is a movie?”

Ye Xiao glanced at them before turning silently back to the lounge area.

Hearing Jin Lu’s familiar loud voice, Die Qi initially thought she was mistaken. Turning to look, she almost covered her face in embarrassment.

How did Xiao Liu and Xiao Wu end up here?

Jin Lu and Qi Wu watched the ad screen cycle through different clips, practically bouncing with excitement.

Die Qi could no longer bear it and came over to greet them. “You two—come inside to talk.”

Qi Wu beamed with joy when she saw Die Qi. “Seven, you really are here!”

Die Qi sighed, “…Come on in.”

These two simpletons radiated such naive energy.

Jin Lu and Qi Wu, much like relatives visiting Die Qi from the “countryside,” were curious about everything. Unfortunately, they’d arrived too late; the last screening of the night had already begun, and there were no spare tickets.

So, they settled in the lounge, snacking on a combo of popcorn, cola, orange juice, and hot dogs that Die Qi bought to satisfy their curiosity with a few trailer clips.

As closing time approached, the snack bar quieted down. Die Qi, standing behind the counter, chatted with them from a distance. “So, what brings you here?”

Jin Lu quickly polished off a hot dog and shouted, “Seven, give me ten more of these dog sausages!”

Qi Wu chimed in, “And two more for me, Seven, plus another orange juice!”

Die Qi sighed. “Why are you two even here?”

With the final screening over, the last patrons left, and Ku Bu finally clocked out, eagerly joining Jin Lu and Qi Wu in the lounge for a chat.

After closing, Ku Bu formally introduced Lu Yao to Jin Lu and Qi Wu.

As Lu Yao heard the names “Jin Lu” and “Qi Wu,” she couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking, So, we’ve got Five, Six, Seven, Eight, and Nine all gathered together.

Curious about the cinema, Jin Lu and Qi Wu got a tour around the first floor, led by Ku Bu and Die Qi, who gave them a thorough introduction.

Once their curiosity was satisfied, Die Qi, looking a bit exasperated, guided them away. Ku Bu suggested a dinner at the nearby restaurant and invited Lu Yao along with great enthusiasm.

Lu Yao politely declined. A dinner with the Little Digits? She imagined herself, the mission’s target, thrown into the midst of them – it was like willingly walking into the lion’s den.

The story of the calabash brothers saving their grandfather – truly a tale that never gets old.

Ku Bu, a bit disappointed, pouted, still hoping to convince her to join. But Die Qi pulled him away, heading off with Jin Lu and Qi Wu in tow.

Meanwhile, at the northern port of Liangjing, a cargo ship docked. Once it was secured, Zhao Guanghong was the first to disembark.

The trip to Jiangnan had gone even better than expected. The goods he’d obtained from the cinema sold for a high price and were completely sold out in just two days. Not only that, he managed to make a connection with the wealthiest family in Jiangnan.

Under the soft glow of the lights, another large ship was faintly visible trailing behind the Zhao family’s vessel. Hanging on both sides of the bow were triangular banners bearing the prominent character “Jiang.”

Zhao Guanghong quickly turned and stood by the shore, awaiting them.

Three people from the Jiang family arrived this time: the Jiang family’s elder’s most trusted steward, the current family head’s daughter Jiang Yudie, and a junior member of the Jiang clan, Jiang Cheng.

The moment Jiang Cheng set foot onshore, he brushed off formalities and rushed over to Zhao Guanghong. “It’s not yet fully dark; there’s still a bit of time left before curfew. Take me to see this cinema at once.”

Zhao Guanghong chuckled. “Young Master Jiang, you’re truly in a hurry. The cinema is located on Song’an Street in the eastern market, and getting there will take at least half an hour. It’s already late, and after a long journey, wouldn’t it be better to rest for the night and head over first thing in the morning?”

Jiang Cheng had been eager to visit the cinema in Liangjing ever since he first heard about it back in Jiangnan. When the family elder appointed the head steward to investigate the capital, Jiang Cheng immediately requested to join the trip.

Throughout the boat journey, his anticipation only grew. Every day, he pestered Zhao Guanghong to recount his cinema experiences. Unfortunately, Zhao had only been there once and had exhausted his limited stories, which he repeated countless times.

Yet, this young master from the Jiang family never tired of listening.

Now, finally in Liangjing, the timing was inconvenient, and he’d have to wait another night. Jiang Cheng felt a bit disappointed but had no choice.

…

The next day, Lu Yao arrived at the cinema early to inspect the newly completed second floor.

The layout of the second floor mirrored that of the first, with standard theaters located on one side of the main area and the 3D theater positioned on the same side as the VIP rooms downstairs, but it would remain temporarily closed.

There was no ticket counter on the second floor, so all ticket purchases and snacks would still be handled on the first floor. This setup left the second-floor lounge area more spacious.

Lu Yao placed the claw machine in a large area along the wall near where the snack bar was located downstairs, yet she felt a single claw machine there looked rather lonely. With glass-top tables and wicker chairs around the lounge area, the machine stood out even more awkwardly.

After some thought, she headed downstairs and called Fu Chi.

About half an hour later, a white van pulled into the shopping street. Fu Chi’s assistant arrived with the driver, unloading two new vending machines, two additional claw machines, and a variety of drinks.

Once they left, Lu Yao stored the machines in her personal storage and returned to the cinema. Arranged beside the original claw machine, the four new machines lined half of the wall, finally creating a more appealing display. While stocking drinks in the vending machines, she muttered to herself, “Who can deny that money is indeed a superpower?”

The system sighed internally.

The second floor’s opening didn’t surprise regular customers since the “Under Construction, Please Keep Out” sign had been hanging for some time. However, with the extra space open, staffing now seemed insufficient.

Lu Yao assigned Ming Yuan to handle ticket checks on the second floor while she stayed in the lounge, helping guide customers interested in the vending machines and claw machines. A new hiring sign was also posted downstairs, advertising for two male and two female staff members.

That morning, Jin Lu and Qi Wu had followed Die Qi to the cinema, intending to buy tickets for the first screening. Seeing the hiring sign on the door, they exchanged glances and looked at Die Qi.

This was perfect timing.

The cinema needed staff, so it wasn’t as if they were forcing themselves to stay.

During their dinner the previous night, Die Qi had sternly told them they couldn’t join the cinema staff since the crowded place would quickly raise suspicion with Lu Yao.

Die Qi’s expression remained cold and unmoved. “We agreed last night. The two of you will spend two days sightseeing in Liangjing, then return to Mushui City.”

Jin Lu and Qi Wu looked disappointed but dared not defy her. Having managed the inner affairs of Lingxiao Pavilion for many years, Die Qi’s authority was such that even the fearless Xiao Jiu didn’t intimidate people as much as she did.

Despite their initial disappointment, they brightened up when they got to tag along for the cinema staff’s breakfast — a generous bowl of deluxe seafood noodles from the pet cafe. After devouring the rich, flavorful dish, they forgot their earlier frustrations and happily ran off to buy tickets.

Taking some extra time for breakfast, they came out to find a line at the entrance. When they checked their tickets, they saw they were for the second floor.

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