Ch 28: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Feng Xiang walked up to Fu Chi, his previously heated thoughts cooling down slightly. Swallowing his original complaints, he shifted the topic. “So, this is what you call a ‘holographic film’?”

The Bai siblings, still immersed in the emotional aftertaste of the film, looked up at the comment.

Did this person seem dissatisfied?

But the film was great—far better than any 4D experience they’d ever had. Every detail, from the scenery to the tactile and auditory sensations, was impeccably immersive. Watching it felt like truly walking down an ancient street.

Feng Xiang noticed their gazes and stiffened, doubling down: “It has sound, touch, and even smell—but where’s the taste? A bustling street full of food stalls, yet all we can do is look and smell, not eat.”

Bai Zheng chimed in, realizing the same point. “Honestly, this was a fantastic first holographic experience. My only regret is not being able to taste that duck blood vermicelli soup—or the desserts from Yuguizhai.”

Fu Chi, who knew Feng Xiang’s temperament all too well, smiled patiently. Despite his age, Feng Xiang still liked playing the part of a tsundere, much like a headstrong youth.

Fu Chi responded evenly, “The holographic technology at our cinema is flawless. The reason you couldn’t taste the street food is that this was a documentary, and there was no main-perspective character. If there were, viewers would be able to fully experience all sensations with the character, including sight, taste, touch, hearing, smell, and even emotional highs and lows.”

Bai Zheng’s eyes widened. “So, there are holographic films with main-perspective characters?”

Fu Chi nodded. “Indeed. When the shopping street app officially launches, VIP guests will be able to book tickets online. But for today, that’s all.”

Bai Zheng sighed regretfully. “I guess I’ll have to come back next time.”

Bai Jing interjected, “I’ve heard the new inn opened by the shopkeeper is quite interesting. Bai Yi mentioned it.”

Bai Yi had recently been chatting often with their “F4 group,” but had remained tight-lipped about the inn’s details, only piquing Bai Jing’s curiosity further.

Ji Feirong added, “I wonder if it’s convenient to take a look. I’d like to visit too.”

Feng Xiang and Du Mingyan, meanwhile, were eager to discuss the cinema and the documentary with Fu Chi, but the rest of the group seemed to have moved on to other topics, focusing on the inn.

The two of them belatedly realized that this street seemed to house numerous intriguing shops and that Fu Chi wasn’t the owner of any of them.

Fu Chi patted Feng Xiang on the shoulder reassuringly. “I know what you want to ask. Wait for me downstairs. I’ll escort them to the inn and come back to talk.”

Leading the group out, Fu Chi guided them to the inn while Feng Xiang and Du Mingyan stayed behind at the cinema. As the group exited, a faint light seemed to spill through the door, catching the two’s attention. But when they looked up, all they saw was pitch-black night.

“Dong—dong—dong—”

The rhythmic clatter of clappers broke the silence, followed by the unmistakable cry of a night watchman. The sound was so distinctive that, despite only hearing it once in the film, they immediately recognized it.

Standing behind the floor-to-ceiling window, Du Mingyan and Feng Xiang watched in stunned silence as a man with a lantern and clappers slowly passed by the door.

Du Mingyan whispered, “What is this place?”

Fu Chi returned just in time to hear the question. He replied earnestly, “This is the shopping street’s cinema, one of five shops Lu Yao has opened in a parallel world.”

Feng Xiang & Du Mingyan: “…”

At this hour, Fu Chi was the only staff member left in the cinema. All the native employees had already departed before curfew.

“Even after watching that film, you still think I’m spouting nonsense?” Fu Chi asked, noticing their disbelief.

Neither Feng Xiang nor Du Mingyan answered.

Fu Chi walked between them, joining them in gazing into the night. His tone was calm. “You both know what happened to me abroad. My mental breakdown, the countless specialists I consulted—all to no avail. By chance, I found my way to this street. My first stop wasn’t even this cinema but the pet café next door.”

“Even then, my condition didn’t improve. The café owner suggested I try working here at the cinema. I paid a million to come for therapy, and she put me to work. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

“She’s… a strange person. But after I started working here, those shadows that refused to leave my mind finally began to fade. Day by day, I felt myself letting go and coming back to life.”

“The shopping street is a real place, and the Great Wu Dynasty is a real world. This film documents how this cinema was abruptly introduced into the Great Wu Dynasty, a world that initially seemed completely unsuitable, and how it gradually gained the favor of its guests and established itself.

“To me, the significance of this film is simply capturing how time flows and how humanity constantly seeks to adapt under its relentless push. Moving forward may not inherently hold meaning, but we have no way back.

“When I said I wanted to invite friends to watch this film, Lu Yao said I could only bring two. Honestly, I agonized over the decision for a while before ultimately choosing you two. But it seems like you both didn’t enjoy the experience much, and for that, I sincerely apologize.”

It must be said—spending enough time around the shopkeeper, you inevitably pick up a few clever tricks. This “retreat to advance” strategy was something Fu Chi had never imagined himself delivering so convincingly.

The night deepened.

Feng Xiang was silent for a while before stammering, “So… uh… what’s the deal with the holographic technology?”

Next to him, Du Mingyan was secretly wiping her eyes, yet Feng Xiang was still hung up on the irrelevant holographic tech.

Fu Chi took a deep breath. “The holographic technology was developed by Lu Yao in collaboration with another team. Don’t overthink it—for now, it can only exist within the shopping street.”

Having his curiosity dismissed, Feng Xiang didn’t get angry. Instead, he wanted to yell: You show me this incredible technology and then tell me not to overthink it? Who’s the crazy one here—me or you?

After Fu Chi’s explanation, the group, all sharp-minded individuals, decided to stop fixating on the reality of the cinema and its technology.

Du Mingyan asked, “Those people earlier seemed to be regulars here?”

Fu Chi nodded. “Yes. Due to various circumstances, they became connected to the shopping street and ultimately became VIP guests.”

“And what does it take to become a VIP?” Du Mingyan pressed.

Thinking of Lu Yao, Fu Chi couldn’t help but chuckle. “Just money.”

…

Meanwhile, the Bai siblings, Ji Feirong, Jing Yuxi, and Luo Huan made their way to the inn.

With the exception of Bai Lu and the assistant, everyone else was a VIP guest, so they had a general idea of what to expect from the new establishment.

However, upon entering the inn, their jaws dropped.

From the moment they stepped inside, the intricate miniatures on the floor, the manual elevators, the finely detailed blue-brick buildings by the windowsill, the tea room, the miniature screening hall, and even the 3D running track downstairs continuously captured their attention.

Bai Jin and Bai Zheng sat by the window, their fingers instinctively reaching to fiddle with the doorknobs of the three small buildings nestled together.

Bai Jin turned to Ji Qingyan to confirm again, “There really are tiny people living in these houses?”

Ji Qingyan smiled and nodded. “There aren’t any guests these days, but the inn has a few smallfolk staff. They’re out with the shopkeeper right now.”

Even Ji Feirong hadn’t anticipated the inn would take on such a whimsical design. She bent down to closely examine a miniature folding screen placed on the top floor of one building and casually asked, “Where’s Lu Yao?”

Ji Qingyan replied, “The shopkeeper discovered a natural hot spring on the mountain and went out to install pipes to divert some of the water to the inn.”

The assistant, standing beside Ji Feirong, couldn’t tear her gaze away from the tiny teacup set on the roof of one of the buildings. It was impossibly cute, complete with seats, tables, a kettle, and even snacks. The exquisite scene was so detailed and charming that just looking at it felt oddly therapeutic.

Xiao Zheng brought over freshly made fruit-and-cream profiteroles and tea. The others enthusiastically discussed the smallfolk and the “Building Block Inn,” while Bai Lu sat alone at the kitchen counter, quietly sipping her tea.

This was the same store where Lu Yao had initially planned to hire staff. At the time, Lu Yao had only mentioned it being a building block-themed inn, never revealing its full nature.

Now, thinking back to her cousins’ surprised and regretful expressions when they heard she had turned down the job—and Zheng Ziyang’s apparent realization before going back to find Lu Yao—she felt a pang of frustration.

She was the only one who hadn’t understood anything back then.

Earlier, when they visited the “Little Pet Cafe” next door, Bai Lu had already begun to sense the shopping street’s unusual qualities. A shop set in the deep sea, with round, chubby seals, whimsical attractions more exciting than any amusement park, and authentic seafood buffets. Then the holographic cinema—if her guess was right, Lu Yao’s cinema was located in that ancient world. And now this “Building Block Inn,” where the welcoming staff turned out to be thumb-sized smallfolk.

Objectively, the jobs offered on the shopping street didn’t seem highly competitive by market standards. But after visiting three of its shops, Bai Lu couldn’t help feeling a twinge of imbalance when recalling that she once had the chance to work here.

Look at Ji Qingyan, with her dazzling résumé, now here assembling building blocks, cleaning, and performing routine inn reception tasks.

Look at Zheng Ziyang, once a senior assistant, now wearing an apron and baking profiteroles. The job seemed fun on the surface, but it was essentially just that.

Bai Lu held her teacup tightly and took a slow, deep breath.

“Oh, right!” Ji Qingyan suddenly remembered something and crouched down.

A moment later, she stood back up holding a plump, pink piglet. The piglet, barely the size of her palm, kicked its little legs and let out soft snorts.

Bai Jin stared, wide-eyed. “Oh my god, is that real?!”

Ji Qingyan nodded. “This is a red pig. Some guests paid their room fees by leaving these behind. We actually have quite a few—they’re housed in pens on the lowest level.”

Bai Zheng squatted down and spotted a row of tiny pens, along with piglets even smaller and cuter than the one Ji Qingyan held. “Whoa, do they not grow any bigger?”

Ji Qingyan replied, “The largest they’ll get is about the size of this one in my hand. The smallfolk raise them as beasts of burden.”

Bai Jin gazed longingly at the piglet. “Can I hold it?”

Ji Qingyan grabbed an alcohol wipe, thoroughly cleaned the piglet, and handed it to Bai Jin. “They’re timid, so hold it tightly.”

Bai Jin felt the soft, squishy bundle in her hands and couldn’t help turning to Bai Lu. “Look, it’s a pink piglet! It’s so unbelievably cute!”

The assistant also leaned over to touch the piglet. “If this hit the pet market, it’d sell like crazy.”

Years ago, the pet market was briefly obsessed with so-called “mini pigs” that supposedly didn’t grow larger—but those had turned out to be scams. Pigs were pigs; eventually, they all grew big and fat.

But the red pig was different. It truly maxed out at palm-sized. Its smallness made it irresistibly adorable.

Bai Lu put down her tea, stood up, and hesitantly approached, avoiding eye contact with Ji Qingyan and Zheng Ziyang.

Seeing the piglet in person, she realized it wasn’t a toy—it really looked like this. It was even more surprising than the seal pups at the pet cafe.

The door suddenly swung open, and Lu Yao rushed in, carrying Budu in her arms. “Quick, quick, Budu is melting! Xiao Zheng, clear out the freezer!”

Xiao Zheng: “???”

Ji Qingyan recovered first and pushed him. “What are you staring at? Go!”

Lu Yao, noticing the guests for the first time, managed a hurried greeting before rushing past them with a noticeably shrunken Budu to the kitchen.

Ji Feichen, who had been quiet and almost invisible the entire time, finally showed signs of anxiety upon seeing Budu in Lu Yao’s arms. Without a word, he followed her into the kitchen.

The room fell silent. Bai Lu felt someone tugging at her hand. Turning, she saw Bai Jin signaling her to look toward the door.

Yuanwei, Heici, and Zhu Zhou, along with Beef Cube, had been left in Lu Yao’s basket at the door. The three smallfolk and the little wolf clambered out on their own, sweating profusely, and entered the inn.

Despite the sudden presence of many human guests, they were unfazed. They walked along the miniature path to the manual elevator and ascended to the upper floor.

The inn’s guests watched them in utter silence, their eyes fixed as the smallfolk rode the elevator and walked past. Both sides behaved with impeccable politeness.

When the three smallfolk and Beef Cube passed through the guest room area, past the miniature cinema, and entered the staff dormitory at the far end of the windowsill, Bai Jin couldn’t hold back anymore. She whispered excitedly, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!! They’re too cute!”

Bai Zheng clasped his face in both hands, looking like a boy falling in love. “And that little dog—so obedient! It’s barely the size of my finger! What kind of heaven for block people is this?!”

Even the normally composed assistant was starting to falter. From the deep-sea amusement park earlier, to the holographic cinema, and now this thumb-sized smallfolk inn, it was beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of as a child.

After years of work and the grind of reality, her inner vitality had withered away.

Now, she finally understood why Ji Feirong had called this place “special.” The intent might not have been to groom her for promotion, but this trip was undeniably worth it.

It felt like a refueling station for her inner child, reviving her soul with a flood of fresh energy.

…

In the inn’s freezer, which wasn’t particularly stocked, Lu Yao placed Budu inside, set the temperature to the lowest level, and left a small gap for air. “Take a nap and recharge your strength.”

Budu wanted to laugh.

He wasn’t as fragile as she thought—otherwise, how could he protect her? Yet seeing her flushed and sweaty from running around, her face full of worry, filled him with a small, inexplicable joy.

After ensuring Budu was settled, Lu Yao stepped into the lounge to wipe her face before coming out to talk to the guests.

She noticed Bai Lu and could see the young woman’s nervousness and discomfort in her eyes. Offering a gentle greeting, Lu Yao then turned to Ji Feirong to chat.

Ji Feirong pulled her assistant, Zhong Man, forward and said to Lu Yao, “This is my assistant, Zhong Man. Open a VIP account for her—the annual fee’s on me.”

Zhong Man was startled.

Ji Feirong held her back firmly. “This place is like my secret retreat. I’ll probably come here often in the future. Coming alone isn’t much fun, so you’ll just have to keep me company.”

Ji Feirong’s insistence left Zhong Man no room to refuse.

Later, when Zhong Man returned to Tianji City, she logged into the shopping street app using her account and saw that the VIP membership started at a monthly fee of one million. She gasped.

It struck her again how her boss was truly a “rich lady among rich ladies,” and that the young shopkeeper was anything but ordinary.

…

Fu Chi led Feng Xiang and Du Mingyan on a tour of the cinema, including Lu Yao’s collection room.

There, they admired porcelain, brocades, embroidery, jewelry, inkstones, brushes, and paintings. A separate room housed bridal gowns carefully displayed on mannequins under vacuum-sealed glass covers. Feng Xiang and Du Mingyan were overwhelmed with envy.

Once they had calmed down, Fu Chi brought them to the inn to meet Lu Yao.

By then, most of the VIP guests had already left. Only Ji Feichen remained by the kitchen freezer, keeping an eye on Budu, while Ji Feirong had taken Zhong Man to the pet cafe next door. Since they were returning to Tianji City the next day, they wanted to make the most of their time.

Zhong Man had eaten lunch at the pet cafe but hadn’t yet visited the fishing deck above the sea—a spot known for its serene views.

…

As the sun neared the horizon and the heat subsided, Lu Yao was preparing to head back up the mountain to continue digging trenches and laying pipes.

Fu Chi entered the room and gestured toward Feng Xiang and Du Mingyan. “Boss, these are the friends I mentioned to you.”

Lu Yao put down her tools and extended her hand, greeting them one by one. “Ms. Du, Director Feng.”

Up close, Lu Yao looked even younger than she had when they first saw her at the staircase.

Du Mingyan was slightly surprised. “Hello, Boss Lu.”

Lu Yao smiled warmly. “No need to be so formal. Just call me Lu Yao.”

For someone this young, if she were an actress, she would usually act reserved or shy in front of someone like Feng Xiang.

Feng Xiang prided himself on being able to read people, but the girl standing before him, with her clear, gentle features, didn’t seem like someone who could manage such a peculiar street.

Thinking about the cinema, he lowered his stance considerably. “Ms. Lu.”

The conversation started awkwardly, as their fields had little overlap. Feng Xiang, accustomed to being the center of attention as a director, found himself uncharacteristically tongue-tied around Lu Yao.

Du Mingyan, on the other hand, was much more at ease. She glanced around the inn’s setup and remarked, “The decor here is so unique, especially the tea sets and folding screens. They’re adorable.”

Lu Yao replied, “The screens and teacups were designed by me and crafted by a master artisan from the Great Wu Dynasty. They turned out exactly how I envisioned them.”

Upon hearing that the screens and ceramics came from the Great Wu Dynasty, Feng Xiang couldn’t stay seated and leaned in to take a closer look.

Fu Chi had mentioned before that items from the cinema couldn’t leave its premises unless moved by the shopkeeper herself. Ordinary visitors like them would be physically blocked by the “door.”

Just then, the kitchen door swung open, and Yuanwei peeked out, carrying a small, golden-colored saucepan that emitted a sharp, tantalizing aroma.

“Lu Yao, weren’t you heading out to lay water pipes? Why are you still here?”

Lu Yao crouched slightly. “I’m leaving in a bit.”

The three-headed smallfolk, wearing a headscarf, looked up at her, holding the saucepan high.

Du Mingyan stared in astonishment at Yuanwei, then glanced back at Lu Yao, as if to confirm what she was seeing.

Feng Xiang, for his part, froze completely.

Lu Yao, accustomed to such reactions, explained patiently, “The inn operates differently from the cinema. This place caters exclusively to tiny guests.”

It was only then that Du Mingyan began to pay close attention to the inn’s layout and furnishings. “Ah, that explains everything.”

Yuanwei looked up and offered, “Lu Yao, I’ve made a pot of lemongrass soup. Would you like to try some?”

“Of course,” Lu Yao replied with a smile.

Yuanwei returned to the kitchen and brought out a tray with four small bowls of soup, carefully pouring and serving them. One bowl for Lu Yao, one for Fu Chi, and one each for the two guests.

Du Mingyan and Feng Xiang were stunned—they hadn’t expected to be included.

Lu Yao delicately picked up her small bowl with two fingers and downed the soup in one sip.

The aroma of the lemongrass was bold and sharp, yet the soup’s taste was clean and fresh, with bits of minced vegetables and meat adding subtle flavor.

Placing the bowl back down, Lu Yao praised, “It’s delicious.”

The other three followed suit, mimicking her actions. The inn’s atmosphere was so immersive that it was hard not to get swept up in it.

The tiny portion was just enough for a taste, but the flavor and the experience mattered far more than the amount.

After finishing, both Du Mingyan and Feng Xiang carefully inspected the intricate little bowls, marveling at their craftsmanship.

Lu Yao, mindful of her unfinished task of laying water pipes, softly reminded Fu Chi to continue entertaining their guests.

“If you’re hungry, the Qingshan Noodle House, snack shop, or pet cafe can serve you. For the snack shop or noodle house, contact their staff through the app and ask Xiao Ji to pick up the food. If you want to visit the pet cafe, you’ll need to hurry—it’s almost closing time.”

Later that evening, Fu Chi took Du Mingyan and Feng Xiang to the pet cafe for dinner. Once again, they were left stunned upon entering the shop.

Zhou Su was about to finish her shift for the day.

The group ordered three bowls of seafood noodles and a deluxe sashimi platter. Carrying their food, they ascended the transparent staircase from the deep sea to the ocean’s surface, where the salty, humid sea breeze greeted them. It felt as if they had stepped into another world.

Ji Feirong and Zhong Man had already taken off their shoes and socks, rolled up their pant legs, and were sitting at the edge of the pier. Their feet soaked in the seawater, they held the large sashimi platter in their laps, with a tall glass of freshly squeezed juice beside them. They looked completely at ease.

When they saw the group approaching, they lazily waved and then turned back to enjoy the view of the sea.

Du Mingyan walked over and sat down beside them to chat.

Feng Xiang stood there dazed for a while, letting his noodles sit and swell in the broth before he slowly made his way over. He had completely given up trying to make sense of everything.

This half-day felt like a stolen dream, too surreal to be real.

…

Nitean Continent.

Under the flowering tree, Lu Yao was busy with her trench-digging work, while Jiexiang and Ziye spied on her from above.

Ziye whispered, “She’s here again. Should we try talking to her?”

Earlier in the day, they had dragged the massive bundle of food Lu Yao had left on the tree branch back to their hollow. It was enough to last them many days.

Not only was there an enormous amount, but it was also incredibly delicious. They had spent the entire afternoon tearing off pieces, eating without pause, unable to stop.

Jiexiang frowned, conflicted. The human woman didn’t seem malicious, but she still couldn’t muster the courage to approach her.

As Lu Yao continued to dig and bury pipes, she gradually reached the base of the tree. Her figure was partially obscured by the branches.

The two smallfolk were so absorbed in watching her that they leaned too far over one side of the branch. Jiexiang lost her grip and suddenly slipped.

“Jiexiang!!!” Ziye screamed, trying to grab her but failing.

Hearing the cry, Lu Yao instinctively looked up. Without seeing clearly, she pulled up her hem to catch whatever was falling.

Thud.

A female Nitean smallfolk landed in her arms. Judging by her appearance, she might have been from the Luo Xiong Tribe. The little one had round white animal ears, a chubby face, and two tiny black moles near the right corner of her mouth.

Lu Yao thought she seemed like someone who might enjoy food a bit too much.

Jiexiang curled into a ball in Lu Yao’s hands, trembling all over.

Looking up, Lu Yao caught a glimpse of golden hair flickering in the branches. She gently lowered her gaze and examined Jiexiang. After confirming she wasn’t injured, Lu Yao stood on her tiptoes and carefully placed her back on the branch.

Ziye slid down the trunk and rushed to support Jiexiang, nervously looking at Lu Yao.

“Don’t be afraid,” Lu Yao said softly. “I’m Lu Yao, a human, but I mean you no harm. I run an inn down the mountain specifically for smallfolk travelers to rest and relax. If you’re interested, you’re welcome to visit someday.”

Seeing that it was getting late, Lu Yao gathered her tools and stored the pipe in the nearby grass. She decided to call it a day—this work was exhausting, and she needed to build a machine to improve efficiency.

Jiexiang and Ziye stood on the branch, watching Lu Yao’s towering figure disappear into the sunset.

Jiexiang cupped her face with both hands. “Maybe humans aren’t so bad after all.”

Ziye, noticing her companion’s dreamy smile, felt a sudden pang of competitiveness. “I… I can be just as impressive as her!”

Jiexiang nodded absentmindedly. “Mm-hmm. Let’s go home. Next time, I want to bring her a gift when we visit the inn.”

Ziye: “…”

Cursed humans!

…

When Lu Yao returned to the inn at dusk, she found twenty or so Nitean smallfolk standing under the eaves. They were dusty from travel, some leading red pigs, and they seemed hesitant about knocking on the door.

Lu Yao walked over and pushed the door open. “Hello, welcome to the inn. You’re welcome to dine or stay here.”

The smallfolk huddled together in fear. “!!!”

Lu Yao crouched down and noticed that the red pigs’ harnesses were all different and that the smallfolk themselves came in various appearances. They were likely from different tribes.

Standing at the door, she didn’t rush them but instead stepped aside to give them space to enter.

Her large frame blocking the entrance made it impossible for them to run away, so, with a sense of resignation and sorrow, they shuffled inside one by one.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️