Ch 199: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

Qin Sanwei paused, reading the hiring notice at the entrance thoroughly.

Those who can read and do arithmetic are prioritized, and the job isn’t physically demanding, with a starting monthly wage of two taels. This made Qin Sanwei excited—this was work he could do.

However, working at the cinema would mean less time for studying.

He thought about his years spent studying and preparing for exams, feeling a moment of hesitation. Yet, despite his efforts, he had repeatedly failed the exams. Now he was just scraping by in the capital.

Perhaps a change of path wouldn’t be so bad?

Even though he technically held the title of a scholar, he could return home and become a teacher, which might offer a more stable life than his current one in Liangjing.

Still, he wanted to try the exams again, at least once more.

If he joined the cinema, he could save a few months’ worth of salary, ensuring he wouldn’t have to worry about food and clothing, giving him more peace of mind to prepare for the next exam. Wouldn’t that be a more secure approach?

Deciding to give it a try, Qin Sanwei entered the cinema and approached Zhu Zhu at the front desk to ask about the hiring notice.

Zhu Zhu directed him upstairs to find Lu Yao.

Upstairs, Qin Sanwei noticed a row of strange machines along the wall in the lounge area, realizing that these were the “new gadgets” the bookstore clerk had mentioned.

At one of the claw machines, a bearded man was crouched down, pulling a plush toy from the chute, exclaiming, “Got it! Finally caught one!”

His companion, a scholar, was nearly in tears with joy. After fifty attempts, they had finally succeeded.

The bearded man stuffed the plush into his arms and walked to the coin exchange counter, tossing a piece of silver, saying, “Another twenty tries.”

Die Qi, who was learning from Lu Yao, was about to exchange the money when Lu Yao held her back. She turned to the bearded man and advised, “Since you’ve already won, why not leave it for next time?”

The man slapped the counter, exclaiming, “I think I’ve got the technique figured out, and I want to try the next machine while I’m still in the groove. Just give me the change, don’t worry—I won’t cause any trouble.”

Seeing his insistence, Lu Yao let Die Qi exchange the coins for him.

By noon, he was still the only one who had successfully won a prize. Nearby, a few discouraged onlookers, upon seeing his success, felt their competitive spirits reignite.

Zhao Guanghong, who hadn’t succeeded after playing for hours, bought a few drinks and sat in the lounge to watch, only to be tempted to give it another try after witnessing the man’s success.

When the bearded man finally left, Lu Yao noticed Qin Sanwei standing nearby. She raised her eyebrows slightly. “What’s up?”

Feeling a bit nervous, Qin Sanwei nodded, pointing toward the window but then lowering his hand, realizing they were on the second floor. “My name is Qin Sanwei. I saw the hiring notice downstairs—do you think I’d be a good fit?”

Finally, someone interested in the job. Lu Yao assessed him. The young man looked scholarly, with faint dark circles under his eyes. His attire was plain, and she noticed two faded patches on the hem of his robe. She had a good sense of his situation. “Can you read?”

Qin Sanwei nodded.

“Can you do arithmetic?”

He nodded again, replying softly, “I am a scholar.”

Lu Yao was slightly surprised. A scholar willing to work at the cinema was rare. “Why do you want to work at the cinema?”

Qin Sanwei hesitated, his mind racing with possible answers. He wanted to sound polished but found himself at a loss under her steady gaze. In the end, he simply said, “The wages are very high.”

Lu Yao nodded approvingly. “All right, come with me to the lounge for a quick assessment. It’s just some reading and math. If everything goes well, we’ll sign a temporary contract for seven days. After that, if both sides are satisfied, you’ll officially join.”

Qin Sanwei regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. As a scholar, he valued his reputation, and mentioning money so openly might give a poor impression. After hearing Lu Yao’s response, he was momentarily stunned before quickly following her.

Qin Sanwei’s handwriting was refined, and he was adept with an abacus and even mental math—more than enough skills to handle a cashier job. However, he wasn’t yet familiar with Arabic numerals or the cinema’s protocols, so Lu Yao assigned Die Qi to guide him. Die Qi, being experienced and quick to learn, would assist Qin Sanwei at the currency exchange counter on the second floor, and once she mastered it, Lu Yao would leave the task in her capable hands.

With Qin Sanwei now helping in the upstairs lounge, Lu Yao felt the pressure of hiring ease slightly.

…

As noon approached, Lu Yao left Die Qi in charge of the second floor and prepared to head out for her lunch meeting with the Jiang family members at Fuxian Pavilion.

In the lounge, Fu Chi sat on the sofa, his attention fixed on the items on the coffee table. When he heard the door unlock, he looked up eagerly, spotting Lu Yao. Without hesitation, he asked, “Are these for sale?”

Lu Yao, slightly puzzled, responded, “Huh?”

Fu Chi pointed at the exquisite gifts Zhao Guanghong had brought from Jiangnan. “I’d like to buy them if possible.”

Lu Yao walked over. “These aren’t things you can just take out.”

Fu Chi’s eyes shone with anticipation as he stared at her, “If you can heal Xiao Ji’s leg, then surely these things could be brought across as well?”

The recovery of Ji Zhixin’s leg and his recent experience with Qi Chen had made Fu Chi feel that there was very little Lu Yao couldn’t achieve.

She scratched her head. “That’s really not possible at the moment.”

“No problem,” Fu Chi responded optimistically. “I’ll buy them and keep them here to admire from time to time. The tea can stay as well; it’d be great to experience tea from a thousand years ago.”

Each item was a true antique, not yet touched by the wear of time, retaining its finest and most exquisite form—a beauty that could hardly be matched. Just walking in for a drink and seeing these pieces on display had captivated Fu Chi’s attention. Every single item was vastly superior to props in period dramas or historical films, and even if he couldn’t take them with him, examining them up close would still serve as valuable inspiration for his work.

Lu Yao nodded. “In a few days, I’ll expand a new storage room in the back for these items. If you’re still interested, I’ll leave a spare key for you to use before you leave. And feel free to enjoy the tea while you’re here.”

By setting up a specialized storage area with protective enchantments, she hoped to slow the oxidation and deterioration of the items, preserving them for as long as possible. As for consumables like tea, she saw no harm in enjoying them while they lasted.

Though slightly disappointed, Fu Chi respected her decision and thought that having regular access to these antiques wasn’t a bad alternative. Switching topics, he mentioned the movie selection: “Have you checked the messages in the group?”

Lu Yao shook her head. “I’ve been busy all morning. What’s up?”

Fu Chi explained, “Ji Zhixin and I selected two 3D films: one’s a sci-fi and the other a disaster apocalypse theme. But both are new releases from this year and did really well at the box office, so negotiations might be tricky.”

Lu Yao, who hadn’t had much time to follow recent films, perked up with interest. “All right. I have appointments this afternoon, but I’ll look tonight.” She instructed Fu Chi to mind the cinema and headed out with Ye Xiao.

Ye Xiao wore a dark robe, his silver hair half tied with a jade hairpin, the rest draping over his shoulders. He had on wide-brimmed sunglasses gifted by Lu Yao, and held his sword as he quietly walked on her left.

Lu Yao glanced at him, noting the black robe and the white jade hairpin engraved with lotus flowers. In the worlds of Alexander Continent and Uncharted Lands, he had requested lotus-patterned nails and even transformed into a lotus hybrid once. Did this guy really like lotuses?

She reached into her pocket, pulled out the orca plushie, and handed it to him. “Here, take this.”

She had thought of orca A from the Little Pet Cafe the moment she’d won it that morning. Though it wasn’t a lotus, it might still hold some significance.

Ye Xiao halted and tilted his head slightly, his expression hidden by his sunglasses.

Lu Yao waited for a moment. Ye Xiao didn’t say anything or reach for the orca plushie, but he didn’t look uninterested either—there was a hint of subtle struggle in his expression. Trusting an inexplicable intuition, Lu Yao lightly stood on her toes and hooked the orca plushie onto the tassel of Ye Xiao’s sword. “Alright, let’s go.”

Ye Xiao glanced down at the incongruous black-and-white plushie hanging from his sword tassel, silent.

Lu Yao had only taken a few steps when he followed her.

After walking a bit further, Lu Yao felt her surroundings grow distant, sounds fading, and her footing became unsteady. Faint, fragmented memories surfaced in her mind:

“Lu Yao, I’m hungry.”

“Lu Yao, be careful.”

“Lu Yao, you’re just ill; you’ll get better soon.”

“Lu Yao, forgive me.”

“Lu Yao, only you…can’t.”

…

Who was that?

Darkness briefly clouded her vision, and she felt as if she were about to fall.

Ye Xiao grabbed her wrist, guiding her a few steps to the side just as a horse-drawn carriage sped down the main road, sending up a gust of wind that startled pedestrians and vendors alike.

Lu Yao snapped back to reality, a bit confused. “What just happened to me?”

Ye Xiao’s lips tightened as he took her hand and continued walking. His voice was gentle and clear as water. “The road’s not safe. Stay close to me.”

Lu Yao blinked, brushing off the strange feeling, but the faint echoes of those words lingered in her memory, growing distant again.

Who was it?

Someone who had always clung to her.

Someone who…kept talking in her ear.

By the time they reached the entrance of Fuxian Pavilion, Lu Yao’s expression had returned to normal, and the voice had faded from her thoughts entirely.

…

Meanwhile, far away in Tianshu City, a temple nestled atop the highest peak of Qianmen Mountain held a sacred hall at its center. A young child walked barefoot in the snow. His face was pale as if sculpted from ice and snow, his silver hair like falling snowflakes, and his eyes blood-red.

This child, not yet ten months old, was already the size of a five or six-year-old with unfathomable divine powers. Yet he refused to leave Qianmen Mountain, impervious to the words and attempts of the Ji family.

The child often wandered in the snow, especially enjoying the highest points of the mountain. But today, something was different. Moments ago, he stumbled, nearly slipping, then suddenly steadied himself and dashed urgently down the mountain.

The Ji family members attending him were startled and hurried to follow.

Normally, the child’s quiet, almost desireless demeanor made him seem easier to manage than any predecessor. But as they watched his small figure nearly vanish into the snowy expanse with impossible speed, they realized that, young as he was, he was no ordinary being. He was a divine entity that neither time nor worldly concerns could easily sway or disregard.

There was no signal in the depths of the snowy mountain; electronic devices were unusable.

The Ji family members who served at Qianmen Mountain had no choice but to live an isolated, almost primitive life.

Ji Feichen returned from the base of the mountain, guiding a sled with five sled dogs loaded with daily necessities. Midway up, he encountered the divine child, a surprise that caused him to pause. “Divine Child, is something amiss?”

The divine child halted, casting a glance at the wagging sled dogs that were eager to approach. His voice, ethereal as the icy mountain air, held an unusual urgency: “He is calling me. It’s time to find her.”

Ji Feichen suppressed his astonishment and carefully asked, “Who?”

He had never heard of anyone commanding the divine child.

The child shook his head, unwilling to explain further. “In any case, I must descend the mountain.”

Ji Feichen’s mind spun. How did everything change so dramatically while he was away for just half a day?

The Ji clan was esteemed for serving the divine, but at their core, they were mere servants of the divine. If the future god planned to move, they too would have to follow.

Ji Feichen turned to pursue the child, hoping he could wait just half a day so the clan members could gather their belongings and depart together. After a few shaky steps, he realized the divine child had returned on his own accord.

Moreover, the child’s left leg was now severed below the knee, with the exposed bones and flesh transforming into jagged, transparent ice.

“Divine Child, your leg…” Ji Feichen cried in alarm.

The divine child shook his head dismissively. “I forgot; I can only go out during winter. It’s too warm below the mountain.”

The divine children’s physical forms varied greatly before they ascended, but this child’s appearance was nearly human, save for his silver hair and blood-red eyes. Ji Feichen had assumed he might be a human who gained divinity, yet clearly, that wasn’t the case.

With a steady expression, he supported the divine child. “Divine Child, what should we do now?”

The child gazed toward the base of the mountain with a piercing, frigid look. “Wait.”

Wait for winter—then he would seek her out.

…

In a private room on the second floor of Fuxian Pavilion, Lu Yao met with the Jiang family’s head steward, Jiang Yudie, and Jiang Cheng. After introductions, Zhao Guanghong, showing keen awareness, excused himself, even attempting to pull Ye Xiao along, but Lu Yao stopped him.

The room thus held five: Lu Yao and Ye Xiao, and the three Jiang family members.

Jiang Cheng stole a few glances at Ye Xiao’s face hidden by his dark sunglasses, prompting Lu Yao to explain, “His eyes are sensitive to light, so he wears these glasses to block it.”

Jiang Cheng, startled by her perceptiveness, quickly covered his reaction and, to ease his embarrassment, said with a smile, “We don’t see such things in Jiangnan. It’s intriguing. I saw a young lady at the theater wearing similar spectacles. Is there some deeper purpose?”

Jiang Yudie, now in her elegant, regal attire, sat opposite Lu Yao. She had a refined and composed appearance but a cool demeanor that hinted at her strong personality. After the initial greetings, she had remained silent, pausing briefly when Jiang Cheng mentioned the glasses.

Lu Yao sensed that this lunch might not go as smoothly as planned, but she kept a smile on her face. “You’re likely referring to Hongyu. Her vision is poor, so she wears glasses to correct it. Simply put, these lenses make blurry objects appear closer and clearer.”

Jiang Cheng was fascinated. “Could I try them?”

Lu Yao shook her head. “For those with normal vision, wearing them would make everything blurrier and could even cause dizziness.”

Jiang Cheng was baffled. “Why would that be?”

The steward beside him cleared his throat, and Jiang Cheng fell silent. He was genuinely curious, especially after seeing The Sea Train, which only fueled his fascination with the wonders shown in the cinema.

When he learned Zhao Guanghong had arranged a meal with the theater owner, Jiang Cheng reluctantly followed the head steward and Jiang Yudie out, even though he wanted to stay and watch every film on offer.

The head steward, a dignified man in his fifties with streaks of gray in his hair and a steady gaze, exuded an air of authority. He addressed Lu Yao directly, “Miss Lu, we came here to discuss a business proposition regarding sanitary paper. The Jiang family would like to purchase the recipe. Name your price.”

The Jiang family owned a renowned paper mill in Jiangnan, famous throughout the empire for its Xuan paper, snowflake paper, glossy paper, and decorative paper seals. Initially, when they heard that the so-called “sanitary paper” was used for hygiene, they thought it absurd. But upon testing the soft, durable paper, they found it remarkably useful.

Once they experienced the convenience of the sanitary paper, it was hard to return to using wood chips or stones. Even washing their hands afterward with liquid soap left a faint fragrance, making them feel entirely cleansed.

The Jiang family patriarch immediately recognized the potential of sanitary paper, believing it could become a staple that would greatly improve people’s lives.

Unfortunately, the Jiang family’s attempts to recreate the paper in their own mill failed to produce the same quality. Their versions were either too thin and easily torn or rough and unpleasant to use.

The head steward and Jiang Cheng had actually spent quite a bit of time in the cinema’s restroom earlier, examining the facilities. Each stall was stocked with sanitary paper, and despite it being a place for “nature’s call,” it was cleaner and more pleasant-smelling than many ordinary households. Automatic flushing toilets, faucets that ran water with a simple wave of the hand, and the kind of expensive liquid soap typically seen only in Jiangnan were freely available. There was even a curious machine that dried hands after washing. Every aspect of it was baffling to comprehend.

The steward harbored many thoughts, inclined to build a good rapport with the cinema’s owner, but he also wanted to maintain the dignity of the Jiang family as a prestigious household, so his tone remained somewhat stiff.

Lu Yao didn’t react much, but beside her, Ye Xiao raised his head slightly and cast a glance at the head steward. The steward felt a sudden chill down his spine, even though their eyes hadn’t met directly.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yudie kept her gaze lowered, having remained silent the entire time.

Despite running such an extraordinary establishment, this Miss Lu gave off no particular air of authority. She seemed clumsy, lacking sharpness, and not nearly as intelligent as one might expect.

Several of Fuxian Pavilion’s latest signature dishes lay on the table. Lu Yao could tell at a glance that the chef had likely watched The Little Chef, as these new dishes clearly took inspiration from that show.

Feeling genuinely hungry, she picked up her chopsticks, sampling a few dishes to satisfy her appetite before speaking. “It’s impressive that the Jiangnan Guild can foresee the potential of sanitary paper. You truly have the vision that sets you apart from the average person. I’m pleased.”

Jiang Yudie paused, her lips curling slightly downward, shaking her head inwardly. This Miss Lu was truly lacking in cleverness. Not only did she miss the steward’s subtle condescension, but she also praised the Jiang family in such a thoughtless manner. Even if the family patriarch were here, he wouldn’t be particularly pleased by this flattery.

Lu Yao continued, “But I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I don’t have a recipe for sanitary paper.”

The three from the Jiang family seemed taken aback, their expressions revealing a hint of disbelief they hadn’t yet masked.

Lu Yao shrugged. “After all, as you can see, I run a cinema,” she said, spreading her hands in a gesture that clearly implied, “I’m not a sanitary paper manufacturer.”

The atmosphere grew tense.

Finding herself even hungrier after a few bites, Lu Yao continued her meal, even inviting Ye Xiao to eat.

After a moment, the steward composed himself and addressed her again, “I was disrespectful earlier, Miss Lu. Allow me to offer an apology with tea in place of wine.”

True to his role as a seasoned steward of a noble family, he displayed humility when needed, his words and actions seasoned with experience.

Lu Yao took the offered tea, sharing a silent toast with him, and resumed her meal without further comment. They likely assumed she was being deliberately difficult, unaware that she genuinely didn’t have the formula they sought.

Jiang Yudie’s brows furrowed as she observed, wondering if this woman was actually a “hidden tiger under the guise of a pig.”

The meal concluded on a rather anticlimactic note. Jiang Cheng gestured for the server to come in and settle the bill.

Fuxian Pavilion’s owner personally came to the table, nodded courteously to Lu Yao first, and then turned to Jiang Cheng.

Lu Yao waved her hand, tossing a silver ingot over. “This meal is on me—a small gesture to welcome you all.”

She was quick, leaving Jiang Cheng no time to respond.

As the restaurant owner calculated the bill, Lu Yao couldn’t resist speaking up. “Boss, the duck skin should be crispy, so it’s best to apply a crispy glaze multiple times and let it air dry before roasting. And the dipping sauce could use more depth in aroma, though it’s a bit on the salty side. I have a recipe for it if you’d like to give it a try.”

The Fuxian Pavilion owner was overjoyed and immediately shouted toward the door, “Fetch a brush, ink, and paper! Also, call Old Chen to meet with Miss Lu!”

Old Chen, the head chef of Fuxian Pavilion, arrived, uncertain about what was happening.

Since her calligraphy skills were lacking, Lu Yao dictated the recipe, with the restaurant owner jotting it down personally as Old Chen listened attentively by his side.

Chef Chen had recreated many dishes from The Little Chef, but with the show’s focus on camera work and pacing, it didn’t display every cooking step, leaving Chef Chen to guess and experiment with many details.

As an experienced chef, Chef Chen had already come close to capturing the flavors from the show, making Fuxian Pavilion one of the closest imitations in Liangjing. But hearing Lu Yao’s explanations today, he realized there were many intricacies he hadn’t known and asked about numerous unclear details from the show.

Lu Yao herself was skilled in cooking, had experienced culinary traditions from various worlds, and employed several master chefs at her establishment, so talking about dishes was a topic she could go on about endlessly.

Cooking, like people, varied from person to person, each with their own flavor and style. In the age of information, there were countless cooking bloggers online sharing recipes. Lu Yao wasn’t stingy with this knowledge. But achieving mastery at a true chef’s level wasn’t something easily accomplished.

For the owner of Fuxian Pavilion and Chef Chen, her tips were like a treasure trove. They treated Lu Yao with even more respect, and the restaurant owner even insisted on covering the meal. Lu Yao was resolute about paying, and they almost had to push her out the door.

Standing on the street, Lu Yao looked slightly helpless.

The Jiang family trio was even more bewildered; they were beginning to believe that she truly didn’t have a formula for making sanitary paper. She gave away such refined culinary recipes without hesitation and without expecting anything in return. They didn’t know whether to see her as foolish or just naive.

Turning back to them, Lu Yao sighed. “Come on, I’ll show you the sanitary paper production process. But some things, as you’ll see, are not as simple. The road for Great Wu Dynasty is still a long one.”

The last part was nearly whispered, so low that only Ye Xiao, and perhaps Jiang Yudie, who walked beside her, caught a bit of it.

The head steward and Jiang Cheng, on the other hand, were thrilled; seeing the production process was practically like obtaining the formula itself! Miss Lu truly was a mystery.

They had entered as two but were now leaving with a group of five.

Seeing this, Jin Lu and Qi Wu, sitting in the downstairs lounge area snacking, looked a bit disappointed. Were these all new hires? It seemed their chance was slipping away.

To give the Jiang family a better view, Lu Yao asked Hongyu to take them to a private mini-theater. Meanwhile, she went to the back, using her tablet to pull up a documentary series on manufacturing processes, which included a segment on the production of sanitary paper.

Unlike the official film screenings, this impromptu video went straight into the main content once the screen lit up.

After watching the entire process, the Jiang family trio finally understood Lu Yao’s words. A fully mechanized production was beyond their comprehension. Miss Lu had shown them because she was confident that, even if they understood the steps, they wouldn’t be able to replicate the paper.

There was simply too much they couldn’t understand.

Jiang Yudie finally understood her complex feelings—a sense of being looked down upon. This young cinema owner seemed to stand from a high vantage point, gazing down at all of them. Back at the restaurant, perhaps she’d viewed them clinging to outdated ways as if watching a comedy.

The three from the Jiang family left in a daze, feeling they had gained nothing from the meeting and had even lost face. Their perception of the world had been shaken, leaving them disoriented.

Lu Yao sensed that this wouldn’t be the end. Humanity’s curiosity and drive for discovery were the purest forces propelling progress. If it wasn’t the Jiang family, others—perhaps the Xie, Li, Wang, or Zhou families—would follow.

The winds of “new” were blowing, and it would be a while before they subsided.

Realizing the meal had taken longer than expected, Lu Yao glanced at her phone; it was almost time for her meeting with the courtesan. She quickly returned to the lounge, gathered her makeup kit, and hurried to the nearby Chunxi Pavilion, where they’d agreed to meet for tea and to discuss cosmetics and makeup styles.

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