Ch 25: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

“Boss Lu,” a voice called.

Lu Yao looked up to see Wan Baozhu walking toward her, her face radiant with a warm smile.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” Lu Yao replied, returning the smile. It had been some time since she had seen Wan Baozhu, who no longer intentionally wore men’s clothing, yet her aura of authority was even more captivating than before.

Wan Baozhu chuckled softly and lowered her head. “You can just call me Baozhu. No need to be so formal.”

“Is Your Highness on leave today?” Lu Yao inquired.

“How could I miss the premiere of the new film?” Wan Baozhu replied, pulling Lu Yao aside into a quieter corner. She leaned in and whispered a few words.

Lu Yao’s expression shifted subtly but quickly returned to normal. She nodded and said, “I will await you all night.”

With business concluded, Wan Baozhu showed no intention of leaving. Instead, she held onto Lu Yao, chatting about the interesting happenings in Liangjing City over the past half-year.

After the cinema’s initial launch, Lu Yao had opened the Childhood Tutoring Center and the inn. Most of the cinema’s operations had since been handed over to Fu Chi, reducing Lu Yao’s public appearances.

Wan Baozhu privately regarded Lu Yao as a confidante and wasn’t about to let her go so easily now that she had her attention.

Before they could exchange many words, Prince Jing, Xie Xu, and Chen Yuning approached. After greeting Wan Baozhu, they saw Lu Yao and began chatting idly, showing no signs of leaving.

A little later, Xie Wan and Sun Qinghe came over to greet Lu Yao as well, accompanied by several young girls whom Xie Wan taught to address Lu Yao politely.

Noticing Lu Yao’s puzzled expression, Xie Wan explained, “These are students from our academy.”

Inspired by the cinema, Xie Wan and Sun Qinghe had committed themselves to establishing a girls’ school, teaching women literacy and moral reasoning.

After months of experimentation, their efforts were finally showing results.

The film premiering today also featured the girls’ school, with footage personally directed by Lu Yao.

It wasn’t just familiar faces attending; shopkeepers from other collaborating stores had also arrived early to queue for tickets.

After buying tickets, they stopped by to greet Lu Yao, exchange pleasantries, and catch up briefly.

In the crowd, a few individuals in foreign attire watched Lu Yao intently.

On their journey to the capital, they had frequently heard the name of the cinema. Upon arriving in Liangjing, its presence was everywhere.

A few days ago, after their audience with Emperor Wu, they eagerly came to see the movies.

Movies were fascinating even if they couldn’t fully understand the language. The visuals alone were enough to captivate them, and with repeated viewings, they started grasping the meaning.

Hearing that a new film was premiering today, they arrived early. This was their first time encountering Lu Yao at the cinema.

Among them was a tall man whose eyes were fixed on Lu Yao, unblinking.

When the announcement for ticket inspection was broadcast, Lu Yao seized the chance to excuse herself from the mingling and headed to assist with ticket checks.

Interestingly, while the Great Wu Dynasty audience typically debated whether to watch in 2D, 3D, or full immersion due to the price differences, this time most chose 2D for the documentary. On the other hand, the foreign guests all opted for the full-immersion experience.

In contrast, customers from the Shopping Street all chose full immersion, even for a documentary—after all, it was full immersion!

The premiere drew a significant crowd, but as guests filtered into the theater, the bustling atmosphere began to quiet down.

The little digits from Lingxiao Pavilion, now employees at the cinema, managed operations efficiently. Even the former pavilion master was upstairs tending to the claw machines, occasionally offering tips to first-time players.

With the cinema under the diligent care of Chang Ming and Hong Yu, it was as secure as an iron fortress, leaving no room for mishaps.

Inside the screening room, the audience of Liangjing citizens settled into their seats with an anticipation unlike any they’d felt before.

The pre-film safety announcements and advertisements played as usual before the lights dimmed, leaving only the glowing screen to capture everyone’s undivided attention.

The film began with a brisk and powerful opening sequence, transitioning smoothly into the main narrative.

A faint streak of light appeared on the horizon. The sound of cartwheels rolling over cobblestones echoed through the tranquil morning air.

Creak… creak… thud.

A wooden board was lifted, followed by hurried footsteps as someone moved back and forth unloading goods from the cart.

A gentle breeze rustled the flags, which unfurled to reveal embroidered characters that caused a small stir among the audience.

“Zhu’s Duck Blood Vermicelli Soup.”

Wasn’t that Zhu Daniang’s stall?

It was the roadside stand they frequented, now unexpectedly showcased on the cinema’s big screen.

And there she was—Zhu Daniang herself.

The woman was tidied up immaculately, and her stall was equally clean and orderly. The steaming soup, fine rice vermicelli, duck blood, bean sprouts, and fresh vegetables unloaded from the cart were all enticingly fresh.

The camera panned out from this humble street corner stall, and gradually the soundscape filled with the shuffle of footsteps, the creak of cartwheels, and the clatter of horse hooves.

Tofu pudding stands, bun stalls, fried pancake and soy milk vendors, and butcher stalls came into view. The vendors called out loudly to one another, and the entire street awakened in the simple yet vibrant bustle of everyday life. This was how most Liangjing residents began their day.

Inside the screening room, the audience watched the steaming food scenes unfold, and many couldn’t help but swallow secretly, as if the familiar aromas were already wafting to their noses.

This was the street they walked daily. No matter what they fancied, a stroll to the end of the road would always lead them to something they had eaten before.

This segment was filmed by Lu Yao, Zhu Zhu, Ku Ba, and Tai Er over three consecutive mornings, with only the finest scenes making the final cut.

In one of the screening rooms, half the seats were filled with Zhu Daniang and her neighbors.

Zhu Zhu, who usually stayed at the cinema, had caught glimpses of the editing process while Fu Chi worked. She would often go home and talk about it, though her descriptions were too vague to convey much. Zhu Daniang, not entirely understanding, would tell her neighbors that Lu Yao had filmed their morning routines and included them in the movie.

The gossip only fueled anticipation. They even agreed to take half a day off together just to catch the premiere.

When they saw the lively and beautifully captured scenes, much better than they had imagined, they couldn’t stop smiling at one another.

The film transitioned from the bustling morning street to a sequence like a curious yet composed gaze wandering through various scenes: a newly opened bookshop, a pawnshop, a cosmetics store, a tea house being cleaned, a busy pastry kitchen, a tavern, and students on their way to school.

In just a few minutes, the audience was completely immersed in the familiar morning of Liangjing.

The next moment, something unfamiliar happened.

On Song’an Street, between Chunxi Lou and Rongxi Bookstore, a shop that had been vacant for ages suddenly had a new sign overnight. It seemed ready to open for business.

“Lu Yao’s Interdimensional Cinema.”

A peculiar and enigmatic name, but even more striking was the shop’s bold and modern design, with no regard for whether the locals could accept such a glaringly unconventional style.

The residents of Song’an Street were abuzz with gossip.

This scene was a re-creation. Every time a new movie premiered, the locals would gather outside to watch.

Fu Chi had positioned multiple cameras across the first and second floors to capture similar moments repeatedly. These clips were later edited together and voiceovers added to perfectly recreate the reaction of Liangjing residents when the cinema first opened.

During post-production, Fu Chi discussed this scene with native Liangjing voice actors who had experienced the opening firsthand. They enriched the dialogue with personal anecdotes and fine-tuned the lines multiple times.

The result was a performance that struck a balance between refinement and relatability.

“Relatability” here referred to accessibility—the reaction captured the essence of the film while resonating with the audience, who felt it mirrored their own experiences, without a hint of exaggeration.

Looking back on those initial reactions, the audience, reflecting on the cinema as it is today, began eagerly anticipating the scenes depicting the cinema’s formal opening.

Regardless of the public’s initial skepticism and curiosity, the cinema quickly launched into full operation.

It started with recruitment—advertisements calling for staff—and then the premiere of its first film, The World’s Greatest. This wuxia film caused an absolute sensation on Song’an Street, solidifying the cinema’s reputation.

When the audience once again saw the original trailer for The World’s Greatest, it felt almost surreal.

It had only been a little over six months, yet it seemed like a distant memory.

From that first film, the cinema continued to release hit after hit—culinary tales, romantic comedies, suspense thrillers—each sparking waves of excitement and discussion across the streets of Liangjing.

The first street interviews were simple.

“What’s your favorite movie?”
“Who’s your favorite character?”
“Do you like the cinema?”

“I love The World’s Greatest.”
“I like The Little Chef of Shengjing.”
“My favorite is Sea Train Serial Murders.”
“I adore When Blossoms Fall.”
“I enjoyed The Moon Landing Project…”
“I liked The Crown Princess…”

At first, the people interviewed were visibly nervous, awkward, and unsure of themselves. Over time, they grew more confident and enthusiastic.

“My favorite character is Ye Qingzhou. I’ve also dreamed of being a great martial artist.”
“I like Annie; she’s beautiful and clever.”
“I love Huashi…”
“I admire Shen Xiang…”
“I’m fascinated by the great whale in the deep sea…”

The quick-paced street interviews captivated the audience. For the residents of Great Wu, this format was completely novel. Occasionally, the person being interviewed might turn out to be a neighbor from the same street, making the experience even more engaging.

When Lu Yao reviewed the sample edits, she noticed Fu Chi’s meticulousness. His editing had a clarity and organization reminiscent of an annual report.

After summarizing the cinema’s released films across various genres, the narrative shifted to the business collaborations between the cinema and nearby shops.

The cinema’s first commercial advertisement came from the century-old bakery Yuguizhai, whose elder proprietor, Yu Jixiang, personally negotiated with Lu Yao.

For the Mid-Autumn Festival, the cinema and Yuguizhai launched a co-branded mooncake gift box, setting an example for other shopkeepers on Song’an Street.

From that first collaboration, the cinema began working frequently with other nearby establishments: Chunxi Lou, Rongxi Bookstore, Rouge Pavilion, Baxiang Hall, Fuxian Residence, Six Happiness House, the kiln workshop outside the city, the carpenter’s shop, Jiang’s Paper Mill…

The camera zoomed out, returning the audience to the bustling streets of Song’an.

Somewhere along the way, popcorn stands began to appear on the street, along with wooden carts selling marinated skewers.

The carpenter’s youngest son, inspired by a bicycle shown in a movie, started experimenting with crafting a similar vehicle out of wood. The master craftsmen at the kiln worked tirelessly to replicate the thick yet translucent glass used in the cinema. The papermakers at Jiang’s were determined to figure out how to produce soft, durable tissues like those at the cinema.

Meanwhile, a local constable experimented with “forensic thinking” to solve cold cases, and a group of women handed out handwritten flyers to promote their girls’ school, recruiting new students on the streets.

At first, the cinema simply provided the residents of Liangjing with a new and unheard-of form of entertainment.

Over time, films and the cinema became deeply woven into the fabric of this thousand-year-old city, influencing the people’s spirits, daily lives, commerce, and craftsmanship in countless ways.

The final scene features Lu Yao alongside Kuba and Tai Er, conducting their last street interview. By chance, they encounter the carriage of Her Lordship, Wan Baozhu.

Wan Baozhu lifts the curtain of the carriage and, upon seeing Lu Yao, steps out to accept the interview.

When asked about her favorite film, Wan Baozhu hesitates deeply.

She eventually says, “The most impactful one for me is The Moon Landing Project. In fact, I’ve watched every film ever shown in the cinema multiple times, and each rewatch offers new inspiration. But personally, I hold a special fondness for I Come from a Thousand Years Ago. There are still so many mysteries in this world, but I sincerely thank the seed from a thousand years into the future for choosing this era—choosing Liangjing.”

This answer surprises the distinguished young men and women seated in the theater. They hadn’t expected someone of Wan Baozhu’s status to appear in the film.

In private discussions, they had speculated that Her Lordship might have a particular fondness for the film The Crown Princess. The movie tells the story of an ambitious princess climbing step by step to the pinnacle of power—a tale eerily reminiscent of the first half of Wan Baozhu’s life.

With the current Emperor Wu’s high regard for her, the latter half of the story could almost be seen as a prophecy, potentially coming true at any time.

However, Wan Baozhu’s admission of liking I Come from a Thousand Years Ago feels genuine. Many noble heirs who have worked alongside her in the court have significantly revised their opinions of her.

This woman has ambition, but she also has talent and resolve.

She doesn’t conceal her aspirations to ascend the dragon gate even in the imperial court; why would she need to act on the streets?

Standing opposite her, Lu Yao responds, “It’s not just the seed that chose the era—Liangjing and its people also embraced the seed with open hearts, allowing it to take root and sprout. Cause and effect are intertwined; it’s as simple as that.”

Wan Baozhu, hailing from a thousand years in the past, and Lu Yao, born a thousand years in the future, share a smile.

The common folk don’t fully grasp why this film has the subtitle Conversations Across Millennia. Yet, some viewers in the theater already understand—the climax has passed.

The overhead lights come on, but the audience remains seated.

The hour-and-a-half runtime feels too brief, leaving a sense of longing.

Never before had they imagined that their ordinary lives, framed within the four corners of a screen, could captivate others, compelling them to sit still and savor every detail.

As the ending song concludes, the screen lights up with the word “Easter Egg” accompanied by a line of small text: “Unreleased interview footage has been compiled as an Easter egg, approximately 15 minutes long.”

Frequent moviegoers understand the meaning of “Easter egg,” and those preparing to leave quietly sit back down.

After watching the Easter egg, the audience orderly exits the theater. Some head to the restrooms, while others step outside to stand on the theater’s front steps, gazing down the long street.

Glass, once a luxury, now adorns the storefronts of many shops like Jinyu Pavilion and the pawnshop, replacing traditional counters.

On the street, some young people wobble along on wooden bicycles. Women walking by have brightly colored lips and radiant smiles.

From a nearby street corner, the crisp voice of a girl reading aloud drifts out from within a wall. In the tailoring shop, sleek and practical new short outfits are quietly displayed.

Compared to half a year ago, the changes on the street are far greater than anyone imagined.

Yet, immersed in these daily transformations, people failed to notice them.

It was only after seeing the old Song’an Street in the film and comparing it to the present that they suddenly realized—time flows silently, day by day. Even as ordinary citizens, they are swept along in the torrent of history.

The premiere of the new film far exceeded Fu Chi’s expectations. Unfortunately, its long runtime, combined with the Easter egg, meant only one screening could be held in the morning and another in the afternoon.

During the midday break, Fu Chi said to Lu Yao, “The inn is busy; since Die Qi and I can manage here, there’s no need for you to stay around all day.”

Lu Yao instructed the cleaning lady to thoroughly clean the second-floor holographic theater again, then turned to Fu Chi. “No, a guest is coming tonight. We need to prepare this afternoon.”

Fu Chi noticed Lu Yao’s serious expression and, realizing something, offered, “Shall I ask my friend and the other guests to make way?”

Lu Yao shook her head. “No need for that. After all, there are two screening halls. Besides, this guest may arrive early, so they might not even run into each other.”

Kuba pushed the door open and entered. Over the New Year, he had once again persuaded Lu Yao to let him change his hair color. Now he sported streaks of pink highlights as he stood by the door. “Lu Yao, there are some tribal folks lingering at the entrance, insisting they want to see you.”

Lu Yao thought for a moment and then told Kuba to invite them to the guest lounge.

Sure enough, it was the same group of people in foreign attire that she had noticed earlier in the morning. Their purpose was straightforward: they wanted to do business with her.

This visit to Liangjing felt markedly different from their last. The city had grown significantly more prosperous, radiating an indescribable vitality.

After watching the morning’s film, it felt as if they had witnessed Liangjing’s transformation day by day into what it was now.

Their eyes burned with envy, mixed with a touch of indignation.

They fantasized about opening a cinema like this in their own territory. In three or five years, what would their city look like then?

Hearing their request, Lu Yao felt it might be a tricky matter.

She politely declined and instead recommended several large, well-regarded merchants in Liangjing, whose businesses could fully meet their needs for supplies.

Liangjing was full of skilled artisans, many of whom drew inspiration from films and began developing various tools and products. In truth, the cinema was primarily an entertainment venue and couldn’t offer them much in terms of tangible support.

After sending off the foreign guests, Lu Yao took a short nap in the lounge before getting back to work.

It was destined to be a particularly busy day.

The cinema operated as usual in the afternoon, while the shopping street remained lively since the morning.

Lu Yao made a brief stop at the inn and then toured the shops one by one. By the time she returned to the cinema, it was close to closing time.

In the evening, only a few staff members stayed behind to assist the remaining guests, while the rest of the employees clocked out on time.

As soon as the “Closed” sign was hung on the cinema door, a discreet carriage slowly came to a halt at the entrance. Lu Yao walked forward alone to greet it.

Wan Baozhu lifted the curtain and was the first to step down, giving Lu Yao a playful wink.

Following her was the Eighth Prince, and finally, the Emperor himself.

That morning, Wan Baozhu had relayed the message that Emperor Wu would be sneaking out of the palace in disguise to watch the premiere of the new film that evening.

Emperor Wu had visited the cinema privately several times before, and Lu Yao, having received him on each occasion, was already accustomed to the routine.

She personally escorted the distinguished guests upstairs. Wan Baozhu, despite having already seen the film once during the day, had to accompany the Emperor to watch it again.

However, the morning screening had been in 2D, while the evening screening was in holographic format, which might make it less monotonous.

After ensuring the guests were comfortably settled, Lu Yao closed the screening hall door and turned to leave.

Once the film ended and the Emperor was safely sent on his way, she would finally be able to return to the inn.

As for the guests in the shopping street, she left them to Fu Chi’s care.

…

Shopping Street – Noon

One car after another turned off the main road and onto the side street, winding up the gentle slope toward the shopping street.

The assistant drove, with Ji Feirong sitting in the front passenger seat. Following them in the convoy were Ji Feichen, Luo Huan, Jing Yuxi, and Bai Jing’s family.

The parking lot was already packed with the employees’ cars. Ji Feirong’s vehicle barely squeezed into a spot, while the others had to park along the side road, leaving their cars in the middle of the street.

After stepping out of the car, the assistant struggled to maintain her composure.

She could never have imagined that the “special place” Mr. Ji had mentioned would be located in such a remote, rural area.

What baffled her even more was that all the luxury cars trailing behind them belonged to families that appeared to be at least middle-class or affluent in Yaoguang City. She couldn’t fathom what had drawn them all to this unlikely spot.

The assistant reminded herself not to let her ignorance show on her face, but as she glanced over the row of luxury cars, she spotted two small electric scooters squeezed in between them. Blinking, she leaned forward for a better look, thinking she must have been mistaken.

What kind of place was this?

Ahead, other guests were also getting out of their cars. Ji Feichen, Luo Huan, and Jing Yuxi had all come alone, while four people emerged from Bai Jing’s car.

Bai Lu had been adamant about not watching the film.

However, over the past two or three days, Bai Jin and Bai Zheng had been unusually excited, constantly chatting and occasionally staring at their phones with goofy grins. Their behavior, slightly unsettling, piqued her curiosity.

At noon, Bai Jing suggested going to the shopping street for lunch.

Bai Zheng and Bai Jin enthusiastically agreed, claiming they were also craving the food there.

Bai Lu couldn’t resist her curiosity and decided to join them.

After getting out of the car, she felt uneasy, her gaze sweeping the surroundings. Not seeing Lu Yao, she felt slightly relieved.

The entire trip had been nerve-wracking for her, fearing an awkward encounter. Now that the tension eased, she finally took in her surroundings.

Desolate. Remote.

Was there really any business here?

Yet, judging by how unfazed the other guests were, Bai Lu held back her questions.

Hearing the sound of engines, the shop staff, who were on their lunch break, came out from their stores and offices to see what was happening.

Bai Lu immediately noticed Ji Qingyan and Zheng Ziyang stepping out of the inn, her mood becoming complicated.

She wasn’t surprised about Ji Qingyan, but what about Zheng Ziyang? Wasn’t he the one who claimed poor health made him unfit for reception work?

At this moment, Bai Lu started to feel something was off.

Was she the only one who thought this job wasn’t ideal?

Ji Zhixin saw Ji Feirong and froze for a moment, surprised to see her there.

He walked over to help her with her bag. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Ji Feirong replied breezily, “I’m just here to relax—do I need to report everything to you?”

During the years when Ji Zhixin’s leg injury had kept him grounded, Ji Feirong had been like any ordinary, worried mother, setting her career aside.

Now that Ji Zhixin had recovered and chose to stay in the shopping street, Ji Feirong had returned to the Ji family’s central business operations, her demeanor sharp and decisive once more.

Ji Qingyan, whom Ji Feirong had recommended to Lu Yao, quickly came over to greet her. “Aunt.”

Ji Feirong gave her a glance, a smile on her lips. “I thought you might not stay. Are you settling in well?”

Ji Qingyan smiled and nodded. “It’s quite fascinating here. I really enjoy this new job.”

Bai Lu: “…”

The group arrived early, intending to have lunch at one of the stores.

Since Lu Yao and Fu Chi were busy at the cinema and didn’t show up, Ji Zhixin led them to the Little Pet Cafe instead.

Among the group, only Bai Lu and the assistant were first-time visitors. Ji Zhixin handed each of them a wristband pass, which they had to wear to enter the café’s more unique setting.

The café, situated in a deep-sea-themed world, left Bai Lu and the assistant astounded.

Now they understood why people spoke about this place with both secrecy and enthusiasm.

Lunch was a leisurely affair, with moments where both Bai Lu and the assistant felt as if they were dreaming.

After the meal, there were still thirty minutes before the film screening began. The group strolled to digest their food, not wanting to feel uncomfortable during the movie.

At that moment, two more cars slowly drove in from the main road. Unable to find parking, they stopped behind Bai Jing’s vehicle.

Feng Xiang and Du Mingyan had followed their phone’s navigation to this spot. Seeing the crowd and cars gathered, they were utterly perplexed.

Fu Chi received the message and came out to greet them. Counting the attendees, he realized everyone was present.

Without much explanation, he led them toward the cinema.

Du Mingyan and Feng Xiang wanted to chat with Fu Chi but couldn’t find an opportunity.

As they entered the cinema, they were instantly enveloped in a nighttime atmosphere despite it being broad daylight outside. Startled, some turned back, confused about what had just happened.

Fu Chi called out ahead of them. “There’s a bit of a time shift—don’t worry about it. The holographic screening hall is on the second floor. I’ll take you up.”

After taking a few steps, he turned back. “I heard we have two last-minute guests. They’ll need to get tickets first.”

As he spoke, several people dressed in traditional clothing descended the staircase from the second floor.

Lu Yao was in the middle of the group, chatting casually with Emperor Wu. Suddenly, she sensed the surrounding atmosphere grow quiet.

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