Ch 42: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

When Lu Yao was in the first year of middle school, her mother opened a breakfast shop in town.

Her mother had excellent culinary skills, and the shop was clean and well-kept. The town’s kindergarten and elementary school were nearby, so business was decent.

Lu Yao’s school was an hour’s drive away, requiring her to stay on campus.

Every weekend, her mother would drive to pick her up.

It was an ordinary Saturday morning. On the way home, Lu Yao was playfully asking her mom to make sweet and sour pork for lunch.

A black SUV approached head-on, neither swerving nor slowing, crashing directly into them.

Lu Yao, sitting in the passenger seat, regained consciousness to blurred vision and a body numb with pain. The metallic tang of blood filled her nose.

Her cheek pressed against the cold gravel and sticky, damp mud. Panicked, she called out, “Mom, Mom?”

No response.

Fear gripped Lu Yao, and tears streamed uncontrollably. “Mom, where are you?”

“Stop crying,” a cold, impatient voice snapped. “It’s grating.”

Someone was approaching her. Lu Yao’s hazy consciousness made it feel like an eternity before they finally stood before her.

She struggled to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt unbearably heavy. Darkness alternated with fleeting streaks of light.

She thought she glimpsed a silver arc swaying in the wind.

“She’s already dead,” the voice came again, cold and close. “Dead things are like broken vases—you can’t piece them back together no matter what. And you’ll be dead soon too. Are you afraid?”

Summoning all her strength, Lu Yao lifted her eyelids. A silver-haired boy, clad in a black robe, stood in an odd posture before her.

She silently asked, Are you the Grim Reaper?

The boy crouched atop the overturned car’s hood, his blood-red eyes peering through the shattered windshield at the lifeless girl trapped inside.

“I’m in a foul mood today, so I’ll do something wicked,” he said lightly, stretching his hand toward her.

The next thing Lu Yao knew, she was awake in a hospital. Her injuries were minor—scratches and cuts from broken glass. The driver had been caught.

The man had been under the influence of some substance. When he sobered up in detention, he broke down in tears.

Lu Yao’s mother, however, had died on the spot. By the time the ambulance and police arrived, the ground was soaked with blood.

“Dead things are like broken vases—you can’t piece them back together no matter what.”

Lu Yao snapped awake, staring at the familiar ceiling of her inn room. Her eyes moved sluggishly.

Was that a dream? Or a memory?

No—there was no way.

In her memory, the car accident with her mother had no trace of Lu Mingxiao.

Dreams weren’t reality.

Rubbing her forehead, Lu Yao sat up. It must have been the recent incident with the fetal seed that triggered such an odd dream.

She had slept deeply; it was already dark outside.

Her rest had gone undisturbed, even by the little people.

Yuanwei, Jiegeng, and Fengqin—three from the Xiaguang tribe—had prepared dinner together. With the inn’s abundant supplies, the meal had inevitably turned into a feast.

By the time Lu Yao emerged, her mood settled, she saw the three holding hands, circling the Rose Garden House. They spotted her and tried to run over, but, having overeaten, they could only waddle toward her.

“Lu Yao, can I trade for the Acorus plants in the greenhouse?”

“Lu Yao, I want Acorus too!”

“Lu Yao, could I have one of the Acorus plants?”

Lu Yao was puzzled. “Why does everyone like Acorus so much?”

The little people chattered away, recounting the legends about Acorus. Lu Yao reassured them, “No rush. Once the Acorus in the greenhouse grows, it will produce many seedlings. After dividing the roots, there will be plenty for everyone. Can you wait a bit?”

The little people had no concept of “cultivation.” They lived off the land, moving from one place to another once resources were depleted, migrating several times a year.

While they didn’t fully grasp Lu Yao’s explanation of growing and dividing Acorus, their blind trust and affection for her convinced them to wait patiently. They dispersed happily with the promise that everyone would get their share.

At that moment, Budu and Ji Feiming walked in.

Seeing Lu Yao awake, Ji Feiming retrieved a steaming plate of seared steak and seafood pasta from his ring. “The young one said you’d wake soon, so I ordered from the snack shop and brought it over.”

Lu Yao nodded. “Thank you for staying so late.”

Ji Feiming usually had a busy morning but was mostly free after lunch, often staying until five. Staying until nine, like tonight, was rare, and it was likely because Budu had asked him to.

Accepting the meal, Lu Yao asked casually, “Is that god emissary still in Yaoguang City?” She was referring to Ji Feichen.

Ji Feiming nodded. “Yes, aimlessly wasting his days and unwilling to return to the main house.”

Ji Feiming’s tone carried a hint of frustration, as though he couldn’t bear to watch Ji Feichen squander his time.

While Ji Feiming had no intent to belittle, he felt that Ji Feichen’s behavior was unproductive. At his age, especially given the situation with the young one, throwing tantrums wouldn’t fix anything.

Ji Feiming had long come to terms with his circumstances. While he’d fallen from the grace of being a god emissary, he found it hard to fully integrate back into ordinary life. Yet, he felt most at ease at the shopping street.

Ji Feichen, having experienced the same, remained unwilling to accept his fate—perhaps because he hadn’t met someone like Lu Yao.

After a restful afternoon nap and dinner, Lu Yao was full of energy. She had something she wanted to test.

Once she was certain all the guests and little staff had gone to their rooms to rest, Lu Yao brought out a tea bowl from the glass greenhouse, which had yet to sprout. Noticing the wilting Yangju next to it, she grabbed that as well.

Scooping away the topsoil in the tea bowl, she unearthed the Yangju she’d planted earlier. As expected, it hadn’t sprouted.

Under the lamp, she examined the peculiar fruit, beginning to suspect it wasn’t a fetal seed after all.

Earlier that afternoon, seeing the fetal seed regain its vitality had reminded her of the yangju. However, upon closer inspection, the yangju resembled a mandarin orange with its dimpled orange peel, while the fetal seed had a smooth, pale pink membrane covering its surface—completely different.

Lu Yao held the yangju, pressing her fingers into it.

(T/N: I got confused before. Yangju is the sun tangerine).

“What are you doing?” Ziye emerged from the neighboring guest room and climbed onto the window sill, catching Lu Yao mid-action. “I told you not to damage it!” His voice cracked with urgency.

Lu Yao released the yangju. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Zi Ye looked at the yangju now back in the soil, heart aching. “You can’t plant it that way. If you want it to sprout, you need to water it daily with acorus dew, three times a day, and make sure it drinks to its fill.”

“Acorus dew?” Lu Yao asked, feigning innocence.

It turned out the yangju tree and acorus were symbiotic. The delicate yangju tree would only grow when nurtured with acorus dew.

Lu Yao picked up the yangju again, twirling it in her hand. “How coincidental. It’s just as picky as the fetal seed.”

Ziye averted his gaze, pretending not to hear. “Don’t plant it for now. There’s only one acorus in the inn, and it’s far from enough to sustain it.”

Lu Yao asked, “What should we do then?”

Ziye replied, “I’m planning to return to the tribe with Jiexiang tomorrow. Maybe I can request more acorus to transplant here. You can plant it once we have enough.”

The yangju in Lu Yao’s hand might very well be the last seed.

Ziye wasn’t particularly hopeful.

Seven years ago, when the great yangju tree was dying, the tribe tried everything to cultivate new saplings but failed, wasting dozens of seeds in the process.

The yangju seed in Lu Yao’s hand probably wouldn’t sprout either.

However, Ziye, once a knight of the temple, couldn’t turn a blind eye upon seeing the yangju seed. He resolved to return to the Shenmu tribe to seek help.

As for why he didn’t take the yangju seed from Lu Yao, Ziye had his own reasons.

After witnessing the incident with the fetal seed that afternoon, he discerned that the innkeeper was anything but ordinary.

In Ziye’s judgment, the yangju had a better chance of thriving in her hands than being taken back to the Shenmu tribe.

Lu Yao asked, “Would it need a wooden box like the other seed?”

Ziye shook his head. “fetal seeds and regular seeds are different. It doesn’t require a box.”

Ziye was unwilling to elaborate further, and Lu Yao didn’t press him.

She had already learned quite a bit.

The next morning, Qianlang, Beibei, Xia yin, and Fengqin left the inn together.

The fetal seed remained in good condition throughout the night and was still lively and energetic by the time they departed.

Shortly after the four guests left, Ziye and Jiexiang also rode the inn’s red pigs and set off.

As soon as Ziye left, Lu Yao wasted no time crafting a small box for the yangju using Tears of the Sea Goddess.

She placed the yangju into a pearl-like seedling box and began feeding it diluted acorus dew three times a day.

Acorus would wilt after their dew was harvested, but Lu Yao experimented by tossing a single Tear of the goddess into the pot. Within half a day, the flower perked back up.

It was far easier to care for than the yangju, though the dew it produced was pitifully small. Diluting it with water was the only way to make it last.

While feeding the yangju with the diluted Acorus dew, Lu Yao couldn’t help but mutter, “You stubborn little thing—either sprout or don’t. If you don’t show any progress in three days, I’ll throw you out into the rocky field.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️