Ch 53: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Do Not Disturb Ascension?

It was a straightforward hint, but could there be a trap?

If this world was truly as she suspected, what kind of shop should she open next?

And with the Dream Fulfillment System absent, would she have to activate the Stargate herself?

That was a skill Lu Yao hadn’t mastered yet.

The Stargate, like the yangju tree and acorus, was unique and couldn’t be replicated.

The hot spring inn mission had just concluded, so there was no immediate rush. If she were to open a new store, she’d first need to ensure the inn’s operations were well-organized.

The three human staff members at the inn were all capable, each with their own strengths. They were diligent and responsible, but they also leaned a bit too heavily into a relaxed, “take-it-easy” mindset.

When Lu Yao opened a new store, she had to focus entirely on the guests and the tasks at hand. Any completed store needed to be handed over to a responsible manager, so she could leave with peace of mind.

The little people staff were also dependable and pragmatic, but their inherent simplicity meant they couldn’t handle overly complex situations.

After two days of consideration, Lu Yao called the three human staff for a meeting.

The three arrived full of enthusiasm, thinking the owner had come up with another creative idea.

However, when the owner explained the situation, it was nothing short of a bombshell.

They’d only been working here for a few months and had adapted well to the pace and environment. They were entirely satisfied with their current jobs—never expecting the owner to already be planning her next leap.

Bai Lu asked, “What kind of store will it be next?”

Lu Yao shook her head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Ji Qingyan followed up, “Have you chosen the location?”

Lu Yao shook her head again. “Not yet.”

Zheng Ziyang frowned. “Do you think our store has no potential anymore?”

It was clear that nothing was prepared, and yet they were being informed of a new store.

Privately, the shop staff had always been curious why their boss kept opening stores in different worlds.

She jumped from one store to another every two or three months, sometimes four. The pace was absurdly fast, yet each store somehow turned a profit.

If Lu Yao heard their thoughts, she’d probably cry out loud: Profitable? If it were truly profitable, why would I work this hard?

Despite their complaints, the staff couldn’t change Lu Yao’s mind.

She mentioned that she intended to train someone to take charge of the inn and invited anyone interested to approach her.

During the meeting, no one spoke up.

The next day, however, all three privately messaged Lu Yao, expressing their willingness to take on the responsibility.

Lu Yao, fair as ever, decided to implement a rotation system.

The inn not only needed a human staff manager but also a little people manager.

After all, matters in the Nitean continent would ultimately have to be resolved by the little people themselves.

The little people were much more enthusiastic about the “manager” position than the human staff, displaying an eagerness that was hard to match.

They gave it their all, each striving to be named the hot spring inn’s manager.

Watching the little people’s innocent and energetic behavior, Lu Yao couldn’t help but recall Lingyao’s remark: “They might grow brains.”

The fallen god Lingyao’s greatest sin had been his treatment of the Nitean little people.

As a divine messenger, his transgressions had led to Yangxi splitting her divine essence, with the goddess herself bearing the consequences and punishment for all the sins.

As a newly ascended god, Lingyao did not love the descendants of the old gods, choosing instead to wipe them out.

Simply lacking compassion wouldn’t have been enough to attract the god-slayers.

Lingyao’s true crime came 10,000 years later when the Nitean little people were born. Rather than guiding them, he deliberately eliminated any possibility of their civilization advancing.

Disgusted by the grotesque greed of the big humans, Lingyao wanted to prevent the Nitean little people from becoming the same. He treated them as mere pets, to be kept under his control on the Nitean continent.

Using simple symbols, he divided the little people into tribes, granting them only a small amount of knowledge and forbidding them from thinking, communicating, or progressing.

The little people were innocent and content with their lot in life.

Their existence remained identical to what it had been 10,000 years ago, with no changes whatsoever.

In that time, the world failed to spark even the smallest glimmer of civilization or progress.

The death of the yangju tree wasn’t the Nitean little people’s existential crisis; it was merely a warning—a reminder that they needed to seek change and carve out their own future.

But perhaps that warning wasn’t quite enough.

Later, the big humans’ inn appeared, breaking the closed world in another way. It introduced new landscapes, new knowledge, and small but significant changes began to emerge.

Lu Yao loved the little people’s innocence and vibrancy but also looked forward to the day they might “grow brains.”

She was curious, though—what expectations would this world’s new god have for their people?

The Nitean little people themselves remained unaware that subtle changes were happening in their world.

…

Late Night, Lu Yao’s Room.

Tonight was a girls’ chat night. The participants included Lu Yao, Jiexiang, Yuanwei, Hudie, A’dai, and Jianlan.

Dressed in pajamas and hugging a cat-shaped pillow, Lu Yao leaned against the foot of her bed.

The little people also wore adorable sleepwear and brought along their favorite bedding and snacks.

Worried she might accidentally crush them on the bed, Lu Yao pulled out an unused cat bed, placed the little people inside, and set it in the middle of her bed.

The chat began.

“Really? You poked his navel, and a flower sprouted from his head? And it was bright red?” Jiexiang repeated Lu Yao’s earlier statement with a face full of amusement.

Jianlan sat up straight, her eyes wide. “It was really red?”

Lu Yao was still fixated on the navel-poking incident with Yingtong.

Regarding how the Nitean little people reproduced, Yingtong had only briefly mentioned it before storming off, leaving many details unsaid. Lu Yao took the opportunity of the girls’ chat to bring it up.

If she’d used the classic excuse of “I have a friend,” she could easily have fooled these simple little people.

But she was too lazy to keep lying, so she just admitted it outright.

Part of her was also curious about their attitudes toward cross-species relationships.

So far, the Nitean women present seemed extremely enthusiastic about the topic.

Lu Yao was puzzled. “What’s so special about a red flower?”

Jiexiang, Hudie, and A’dai burst into laughter, casting sly glances at Lu Yao.

Yuanwei, being older and less playful, patiently explained.

Nitean little people reached adulthood at 66 years old, marked by the growth of flower glands.

When a little person with flower glands encountered someone they liked, a flower bud would sprout on their head.

In Nitean love, there was no deception.

Whether someone liked you or not was immediately obvious.

They only formed iris contracts with someone they liked and who liked them in return.

Hearing this, Lu Yao suddenly felt a bit guilty for teasing Lingyao earlier.

What a phenomenal racial trait!

Far more interesting than forming cocoons.

The Nitean little people, naturally innocent and love-driven, all seemed to have happy marriages.

Of course, relationships occasionally fell apart.

When love faded, the flower on their h’ead would wither and die.

But when they encountered someone new they liked, a fresh flower bud would grow again.

Every Nitean’s first flower had two petals.

The second flower had three petals, the third four petals, and so on. In other words, their romantic history couldn’t be hidden.

“…” Lu Yao could only give them a thumbs-up.

Lingyao must have completely used the big humans as a negative template, removing every gene he disliked to create such a fascinating species.

Still harboring a lingering question, Lu Yao asked, “So, do the flowers look different each time?”

Jiexiang finally stopped laughing and picked up the conversation. “Lu Yao, what did the red flower look like?”

Lu Yao replied, “A small, round flower with five petals, bright red. It was quite cute.”

The little people burst into laughter again.

Hudie raised her hand. “But who was it? So many people greet Lu Yao every day—it’s impossible to narrow it down.”

Lu Yao felt puzzled, as though she were being teased by the little people.

Even Yuanwei, typically the most composed, couldn’t resist laughing. “When someone encounters their first love, the flower that blooms is always red. It’s the same for everyone. Later on, if they fall for someone new, the flower will be different—any color, but never that striking, passionate red again.”

Lu Yao’s heart skipped a beat.

Hudie added, “There’s a saying: the simpler the flower’s shape, the more pure and intense the love.”

Blushing, A’dai whispered softly, “Actually, we don’t usually go poking our partners’ navels out of the blue. It’s usually… at night…”

It was, in fact, a discreet signal.

If a couple walked around in broad daylight with flower buds on their heads, it would be incredibly embarrassing.

Lu Yao: “…”

The process for obtaining a fetus seed was a bit more special.

After receiving a fetal seed at the temple, little couples would spend the night in the box hall.

That night, they would need to poke each other’s navels.

Unlike other times, the morning after, the flowers on their heads would wither and produce a fruit.

The parents would then place their fruit into the fetus box. After a day, the fetal seed would slowly transform into a fetus seed.

With the explanations done, the little people eagerly pressed Lu Yao, trying to figure out who the little person with the red flower was.

Lu Yao didn’t answer.

Jianlan stared at Lu Yao for a moment before blurting out, “Was it Yingtong?”

Lu Yao blinked. “Huh?”

After the mission was completed, Yingtong disappeared.

The Shenmu tribe didn’t seem to have any reaction to his absence.

The little people turned their heads in unison, staring curiously at Jianlan. “What makes you say that?”

Jianlan recalled Yingtong’s strange behavior back then. After explaining, she waved her hands dismissively. “I must be overthinking. It’s probably not him.”

The little people looked visibly disappointed, as though they had missed out on some juicy gossip.

By now, Lu Yao had a comprehensive understanding of the process for transforming fetal seeds—plus a few unexpected details.

The little people continued circling back to the topic, determined to dig up some gossip about the innkeeper.

Lu Yao decided to play dead.

The chatter lasted deep into the night. Eventually, the little people grew sleepy and dozed off in the cat bed. They only left Lu Yao’s room the next morning.

The male partners who had been eagerly waiting for their chance to poke navels spent a sleepless night. Their disgruntled faces over breakfast made the situation even more awkward.

Lu Yao, having matured a lot overnight: “…”

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