Ch 243: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

When Hu Jiao stepped out of the elevator, he took a moment to steady himself before heading toward the front desk.

As he approached, he didn’t greet the person waiting for him, his brows furrowed and his expression tense. “Why are you here?”

Chen Jing turned to look at her son, whom she hadn’t seen in over a year, her face blank. “I came to see you.”

Hu Jiao had run away from home, and for over a year, they hadn’t come looking for him. And now, of all times, she was here.

His tone was laced with suppressed resentment. “There’s nothing to see.”

Chen Jing was far calmer than she’d been in her younger years. She was accustomed to Hu Jiao’s attitude and led him to a nearby café.

Once seated, she said, “I’m divorcing your father.”

Hu Jiao’s expression remained blank, his gaze fixed on the foam in his cup, showing no reaction.

Chen Jing frowned as she studied him briefly before averting her gaze, looking out the window. “Are things going well for you at that tutoring center?”

Hu Jiao scoffed. “I’ve already signed the consent form to become a test subject. After two more tutoring sessions, I won’t be going to the center anymore. I’ll be a lab rat at the Supernatural Research Institute, used until there’s nothing left.”

A fleeting satisfaction appeared on his face as he spoke, quickly replaced by confusion.

Even if his tutoring sessions at the Childhood Tutoring Center ended, would his life as a test subject really improve things?

It felt like moving from one cage to another.

Chen Jing wasn’t one to coddle him. Her expression was just as indifferent as his.

She said she came to see him, but it seemed as if she was only here to glance at him.

There had never been pleasant conversations between them, especially in recent years. After a short while, Chen Jing rose and left without looking back.

Hu Jiao watched her walk out of the café and into the street, feeling bewildered and uncertain. He couldn’t understand why she’d come.

From her words, it seemed she knew the boss.

How had Lu Yao contacted Chen Jing?

Thinking back to that morning’s tutoring session, he suddenly understood.

The location and details of that man’s company—such realistic accuracy could only come from a thorough investigation.

It was beyond what he remembered. Others might have just skimped on the details, but not the boss.

Hu Jiao realized, whether he liked it or not, that he was starting to trust someone.

He raised a hand to his chest, feeling that with trust, expectations inevitably followed.

And eventually, disappointment would come.

Childhood Tutoring Center

The two tutoring instructors had gradually adapted to time-travel sessions, so Lu Yao planned to assign them their own tutoring tasks. But before that, she felt that one large tutoring room was no longer convenient. With each instructor set to meet students individually, most students would likely prefer not to discuss their issues openly in front of others, so she decided to upgrade the tutoring space.

Walking around the large tutoring room, Lu Yao outlined her plan. “I’m thinking of dividing this room to create six private offices on either side, as individual offices for each of you. The records room will connect to the main hall, separated by glass, and we’ll need to hire a record-keeping assistant. The tutoring monitoring room will be set up inside the records room, and another monitoring assistant will be brought on board.”

Bai Yi had thought there should be private spaces for tutors and was surprised by how quickly the boss came up with the idea. “This room doesn’t look particularly spacious; adding six offices, plus a records room and a monitoring room, might feel cramped.”

Xie Molin added, “Right now, including Xiaoxiao, we only have four tutors, so four offices would be enough. Even so, the renovations won’t be easy and could take about a week.”

Their points were practical. The tutoring room wasn’t large, and building a records room and monitoring room on the wall facing the entrance would take up considerable space.

Lu Yao shook her head. “No worries. I have experience; the space will be enough. There’s no need to hire a renovation company, either. I do all the work myself, so you don’t have to worry. The remodel will be done by tomorrow.”

Bai Yi and Xie Molin exchanged glances but said nothing more.

The boss was a mystery, and her abilities were equally mysterious.

But in the time they’d been employed, anything she claimed would work always did.

Just as she said, she had experience.

Bai Yi had a stronger sense of this, knowing that the boss owned the entire shopping street. She had also heard that, like the tutoring center, each of the shops connected to different worlds.

Bai Yi had only learned bits and pieces from her coworkers’ conversations in the employees’ office on the shopping street and hadn’t yet visited the other shops herself.

She had heard that the cinema next door was set in an ancient world, but the boss had introduced holographic films there. New movies were released every few days, and employees had the opportunity to watch them as part of their benefits.

Bai Yi was eagerly awaiting the next time her coworkers would go, hoping to experience it for herself.

After finishing the blueprints, Lu Yao put them away, effectively handing them over to the system, planning to start the upgrades after closing the shop that evening.

Shortly after lunch, a client with a tutoring appointment arrived.

Originally, the appointment was for an adult test subject, one who had come in a couple of days prior with Du Qiuling and Xiaomei. But the person who showed up today was quite young, looking no older than twenty.

He presented the tutoring bracelet of the previous test subject and explained, “Subject 365 underwent a new experiment yesterday and is still recuperating in the nutrient chamber, so he couldn’t come. I’m Subject 52, and he transferred his tutoring slot to me.”

Subject 52 had delicate, feminine features, and without speaking, he could easily be mistaken for a girl. Once he spoke, though, his rough voice and expressive demeanor brought his personality to life.

Lu Yao didn’t immediately agree to proceed with the session but instead asked him to wait while she called the Supernatural Research Institute to confirm the situation. Only after receiving verification did she turn to admit Subject 52.

As he walked past her, he tilted his head to study her. “The little boss is pretty cautious. I bet you don’t realize you’re quite famous at the institute. Test subjects have heard you can trace back time, go back to the past to change the future, and they’re all hoping to come see you. The lab coats are also cooking up excuses to get you in as a test subject.”

By the time he said this, Subject 52 and Lu Yao had entered the tutoring room.

Xie Molin and Bai Yi looked up.

Seeing that Lu Yao’s expression remained calm, Subject 52 gave her a knowing smile. “Don’t believe me? Or are you confident in your own abilities?”

Lu Yao recalled her first experience picking up Hu Jiao at the institute, realizing it hadn’t been as straightforward as Xiaomei had explained.

Still, no one here knew she actually didn’t possess any supernatural powers, and she didn’t plan on clarifying. Letting the misunderstanding persist was just fine.

She took out a childhood assessment form from under the table.

Once Subject 52 completed it, she spent a moment reviewing the form.

After a few minutes, Lu Yao said, “Alright, we’re ready to extract the bone.”

Subject 52, who had already gathered details from Subject 365, sat down and extended his hand, waiting for the boss to extract the bone.

Bai Yi and Xie Molin gathered around.

Although they’d witnessed this several times, this medically impossible process never ceased to spark their curiosity.

Subject 52, however, didn’t want Bai Yi and Xie Molin involved in his session, permitting only Lu Yao as his instructor.

Once the time key was crafted, Lu Yao guided Subject 52 back to his childhood.

His request was simple: he wanted to return to his childhood and find his parents, with no further tutoring needed.

As the white light faded, Subject 52 opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow.

The black floor, white ceiling, and rows of silver-transparent nutrient chambers in the spacious room confirmed that he was indeed back in his childhood.

Lu Yao emerged, placing a transparent tag on Subject 52’s back, with one already on her own.

The setting was indoors and bore a striking resemblance to parts of the facility she had seen at the Superpower Research Institute.

Given the setup, there was bound to be surveillance in this environment.

However, Lu Yao had anticipated this. During the first minute after crossing the time stream with the time machine, neither she nor the tutoring student would be detected by that era’s surveillance, ensuring a safe arrival for both.

With the invisible magical seal stickers applied, for the next two hours, they would remain undetectable within the facility—colorless, scentless, and invisible, even to thermal sensors.

“What is this place?” Lu Yao asked.

Excitement sparked in Subject 52’s eyes. “We really traveled through time! You’re amazing!”

After a brief outburst, he grabbed Lu Yao’s hand, lowering his voice. “They’ve probably already noticed us. We need to be quick before we’re caught.”

Lu Yao gripped his hand. “No need to worry; I’ve taken precautions. Is this the research institute?”

Subject 52 blinked, looking Lu Yao over again. “You’re incredible. It makes me want to kidnap you.”

Lu Yao narrowed her eyes. “???”

After confirming multiple times that they truly hadn’t been detected, Subject 52 relaxed and, still holding Lu Yao’s hand, brazenly led her around a row of nutrient chambers.

The cylindrical nutrient chambers stood about two and a half meters tall, filled with an unknown liquid, each connected at the top to a breathing mask with three flexible tubes.

The chambers Lu Yao passed were empty, but after a few steps, they came upon a person inside one of them, lying completely exposed, eyes closed, with a breathing mask covering their mouth.

Lu Yao paused, feeling a discomfort beyond what she’d anticipated—seeing a scene like this in person was entirely different from witnessing it on a screen. It was like something out of a sci-fi novel, yet profoundly unsettling.

Her brows furrowed. “Is Subject 365 being kept in a nutrient chamber like this?”

Subject 52 shook his head. “These are old facilities from over ten years ago. The technology is much better now, but it’s essentially the same idea.”

Suddenly, the door to the room slowly opened, and three or four people in lab coats entered, heading directly to the chamber Lu Yao and Subject 52 had been observing.

Before the door closed, Subject 52 grabbed her hand and they quickly ran out.

“This seems to be from when I was three years old. Even back then, I thought my parents must still be in the institute, but I could never find them.” As they ran, he looked back and spoke to Lu Yao.

With confirmation that they hadn’t been detected, Subject 52 grew bolder.

Both of Subject 52’s parents had been test subjects who met and fell in love at the institute, later giving birth to him in one of the labs.

But since gaining awareness, Subject 52 had never seen his parents. He had been searching for them everywhere but had never found them.

Reflecting on it with an adult’s mind, it seemed incredible that they’d managed to bring him into the world under such circumstances.

And as the child of two test subjects, he had also become a test subject.

Life was nothing but a cruel irony.

What had they felt when they brought him into this world?

Subject 52 wanted to find them and ask face-to-face.

They searched the institute thoroughly, from the first underground floor to the sixth floor above ground, finding nothing.

The two hours passed quickly, and Lu Yao pulled Subject 52 back. “The invisibility magic is about to wear off, and our time is up. Let’s go back.”

Returning to the tutoring room, they found Bai Yi and Xie Molin sipping coffee, leisurely enjoying their afternoon tea.

Though only three minutes had passed since activating the time machine, the journey had been exhausting as they ran up and down the institute multiple times.

Despite his slender appearance, Subject 52 seemed to have considerable stamina and mental resilience.

On the other hand, Lu Yao was visibly worn out.

Bai Yi poured her a cup of tea. “How did it go?”

Lu Yao glanced at Subject 52 and shook her head. “We didn’t find them.”

Turning to Subject 52, she said, “It’s possible they were never there; the places we visit are limited to your memories.”

Though they hadn’t achieved his goal, Subject 52 didn’t seem disappointed. He looked at her with a startling brightness in his eyes. “I now understand the principle of your ability. All it takes is a fragment of someone’s bone to access their entire life’s experiences. I don’t have my parents in my memories, but I know who does. I’d like to book another session, and I’ll bring new clues next time.”

Lu Yao frowned slightly. “You’re not thinking of taking someone’s finger bone, are you? If I’m not the one performing the operation, it won’t work. Don’t try it on your own.”

Her intuition rarely failed her, and this young man in front of her exuded an unsettlingly dangerous aura.

A fleeting look of regret crossed Subject 52’s eyes, and after a moment of silence, he consoled himself, saying, “The stronger the ability, the tighter the rules that bind it. With an ability as powerful and stable as yours, I can imagine the restrictions must be strict. I’ll find a way to bring him—or them—here. Please schedule my next session.”

After Subject 52 left, there were no more clients for a while.

Lu Yao, Bai Yi, and Xie Molin sat together, drinking tea and enjoying some snacks.

Later on, Du Qiuling was scheduled to come by.

Lu Yao wanted to recharge beforehand, as she planned to involve both Bai Yi and Xie Molin in the upcoming session.

Following the boss’s instructions, Bai Yi had been pretending to be a regular resident of Sanhua City like Xu Xiaoxiao and Xie Molin. To maintain her cover, she often spent her free time in the break room, researching extensively on her computer, immersing herself in the unique aspects of this alternate world.

Even though she could only learn through online videos and photos, Bai Yi found the experience fascinating and strange.

The closer she looked, the more she realized that, while Sanhua City seemed similar to the shopping street’s world, it had many differences.

For instance, there were some outlandish rules: in this world, if a student achieved an A+ rating in superpower level by high school, they could enter a top-tier regional university.

Upon graduating with an S-level superpower rating, they were automatically recruited into the region’s elite, cutting-edge research institutes and scientific organizations.

These top researchers typically began their careers at the age of sixteen.

Sixteen! What kind of concept was that?

Did they even fully grasp their studies? Had their self-awareness and personalities matured?

Bai Yi muttered to herself, continuing her research, and then stumbled upon an article with a picture of Xie Molin on the website of a top research institute.

The article was from a few months ago, and although Xie Molin had since left the institute, the news piece hadn’t been updated.

Occasionally, Bai Yi glanced at Xie Molin, who eventually noticed her stares and felt unnerved. “Is something wrong?”

Lu Yao looked over as well.

Caught in the act, Bai Yi felt a bit embarrassed but couldn’t suppress her curiosity. She took the opportunity to ask, “I found some articles about you online. You’re really accomplished! Why did you leave?”

And why come to the Childhood Tutoring Center afterward?

Bai Yi didn’t think the tutoring center was lacking, but compared to his former prestigious institution, the center certainly didn’t carry the same national recognition. The center primarily attracted a specific audience, and someone of Xie Molin’s caliber seemed like an unlikely fit.

Xie Molin set down his cookie, his gaze lowering in thought, as if carefully considering how to answer. “In simple terms, I couldn’t see any hope there.”

The institution Xie Molin worked for had been dedicated to studying individual psychology. Yet, whether due to flawed methods or a misguided approach, it had failed to produce results that satisfied him.

One of his primary research topics had been how to reduce and eliminate the “purple clay tendency” in test subjects.

Many subjects developed this tendency as they aged, and once it appeared, most didn’t survive more than six months.

Xie Molin gently traced the patterns on his glass teacup, his eyes clouded with confusion. “Some subjects enjoyed food, so we fulfilled all their requests, providing meals tailored to their tastes each day. Others wanted friends, so we organized social gatherings and created opportunities for them to connect. There were even subjects who wished to leave the institute, and we allowed them to do so while still granting full benefits to ensure a secure future. But, in the end, the bad news always came. No matter what we tried, we couldn’t save those subjects.”

Xie Molin transitioned from initially finding it unbearable to becoming accustomed and numb to the atmosphere in the lab, only to feel that discomfort surge again in the last six months.

One sudden day, he felt the air in the research room suffocating, sending chills down his spine. It felt as though if he didn’t escape that environment soon, he would be the next to encounter trouble.

On the very first day Xie Molin realized something was off, he wrote his resignation letter. It took nearly a week of back-and-forth negotiations before he successfully left.

“After resigning, I returned directly to Sanhua City. I hunkered down at home, shut myself off from the world, feeling like life was shrouded in fog. Even though I had left the research institute, I still often thought about my previous work, unable to understand why I couldn’t find a way to save those subjects,” Xie Molin still grappled with this question. “On the day my senior called me, I was researching the Childhood Tutoring Center online, and it turned out there was indeed information about it, even a video of the boss successfully persuading someone contemplating to end it all.”

Everyone knew what happened next—Xie Molin successfully joined the tutoring center.

Bai Yi turned to Lu Yao. “What do you think the reason is, boss?”

Xie Molin raised an eyebrow, wondering if they knew something.

Lu Yao furrowed her brows. “Every situation is different, and without a deep understanding, it’s hard to make a judgment. However, with such a prevalent phenomenon, there must be an obvious common cause. What makes humans different from ordinary animals is their consciousness and emotions. Once the survival crisis is resolved, people naturally develop higher-level needs.”

Bai Yi nodded. “These needs must have been formed over a long period, taking on specific shapes. Generally, normal people will consider how to satisfy these needs. When they hit a wall, they adjust their behavior and try again until they reach a state they can accept.”

Xie Molin fell silent before saying, “Aren’t we doing just that?”

The group was about to continue discussing this issue when Du Qiuling walked in along the narrow corridor. “It’s lively in here.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

1 Comment

  1. Thank you for the new chapters!

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