Ch 1: My Multiverse Supermarket

Ancient Plane: Peach Blossom Land

Early morning, between spring and summer.

At the mist-shrouded peak of a mountain, a three-story house quietly appeared.

Hot, humid miasma pressed in from all directions, thickening the air until it felt sticky.

Suddenly, a ball of white light flared inside the house, scattering the haze.

Behind a glass door was a small convenience store.

Zhou Li braced her hands on the cashier counter, craning her neck to peer outside.

Even through the dense fog, she could tell they were on a vast grassland.

She muttered, “So the first stop of interplanar trade is… a prairie?”

…

A few weeks earlier—

Zhou Li, who had been preparing for the civil service exam, was summoned home by her mother, Zhou Hao, to take over the village store.

Calling it a “supermarket” was generous—it was really just a small grocery shop at the village entrance.

The store occupied the family’s self-built 180-square-meter house, sixty of which were an illegally added storage shed.

The first floor was the store; the second and third were their living quarters.

After dumping the supermarket on Zhou Li, Zhou Hao left for a so-called “market expansion research trip” out of town.

And just like that, Zhou Li found herself running a little store.

Then, somehow, she was “bound” to a Multiverse Trade System, becoming part of a project to pioneer cross-plane commerce—known simply as “Interplanar Trade.”

Today marked her first actual trade mission with the system, as her shop was transported to another world.

This first world targeted for trade was an ancient civilization.

It resembled China—though with different dynasties and historical figures, its culture, politics, and customs were much like China’s Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period.

In other words, it was an age of war and chaos, where commoners suffered.

But that had little to do with Zhou Li.

Her task was simple: run her store well, meet the system’s trade quotas, and she’d be able to return home.

*

Dayue Kingdom, Qitian Ridge, Yangshan Pass ancient road.

A group of refugees heading south unexpectedly crossed paths with another heading north.

Both sides halted, staring warily at one another.

“Where are you from?” asked the leader of the northbound group in a heavy local accent.

The southbound group, numbering over a hundred, was led by an old man in his fifties.

He climbed down from an ox cart and answered in halting dialect, “We are from Chu, fleeing the wars. What drove you from your home?”

The Dayue leader sighed. “Oppressive taxes left us no choice but to abandon everything and seek life elsewhere.”

The old man was shocked. “I thought Dayue was at peace. We came hoping to settle here, but it seems hardship reigns everywhere.”

The refugees murmured in despair.

They had already journeyed over a thousand li with their families in tow.

They thought they’d finally escaped a life of sword and slaughter.

Yet here was another hell.

Some broke into tears.

Along the way, they had eaten through their food, spent all their money, and even sold their children.

They had endured everything—but hope had run dry.

Despair spread through the crowd.

Perhaps out of bitterness, the old man said, “You needn’t go north. Chu burns with war, Jianghuai suffers drought, and every province bleeds under taxes. There’s no peace anywhere.”

The Dayue refugees believed him. After all, if peace existed elsewhere, these Chu people wouldn’t have come so far south.

“What should we do, then?” voices muttered among the Dayue group.

Someone proposed, “We could hide deep in the mountains.”

Dayue was a land of hills.

Though Qitian Ridge was remote, it wasn’t uninhabitable.

They could build stockades in the valleys, live off hunting and gathering, and carve terraces on the gentler slopes.

Far from any county, tax collectors would never find them.

This idea rekindled a flicker of hope.

Someone hesitated. “But the mountains are filled with miasma.”

“Where in Dayue isn’t there miasma?”

Generations born here had long grown used to it.

At that, the Dayue refugees began whispering eagerly among themselves.

The Chu refugees, however, were more cautious.

Dayue’s environment was harsher than they’d imagined.

Whether to keep heading south, stay here, or return to Chu—they needed time to discuss.

Unable to reach a conclusion and with night falling, both groups decided to camp nearby.

The Dayue people kept their distance—several hundred meters away.

It wasn’t wise to trust strangers. Too close, and they might lose their cattle or food before dawn.

…

Once both camps had fires going, groups began searching for water, fruit, and edible plants.

Yangshan Pass was a major road into Dayue, once bustling with travelers.

By now, every edible plant and huntable beast nearby had long been picked clean.

To find anything, they’d need to venture deep into the woods.

It was dangerous, so women and children stayed behind while the able-bodied men went out in groups.

Among the Chu refugees was a young girl dressed as a boy, gripping an axe as she followed the others.

Some men noticed her and exchanged mocking glances.

One laughed loudly, “Some women think wearing pants makes them men! Doesn’t know life from death.”

Another snickered, “Wait till she meets a tiger—she’ll cry for her mother!”

Suddenly, one of them shouted, “What’s that over there?”

Startled, the girl raised her axe defensively.

But when she looked, there was nothing.

The men burst out laughing.

Realizing she’d been tricked, her face darkened. She left them and went her own way.

They sneered.

Though they traveled together, none really knew her.

She had joined their band mid-journey.

Her disguise fooled no one—she was clearly a girl.

To some, that invited pity; to others, malice.

She met kindness with wariness and cruelty with violence.

Her axe had already taken at least three lives since she joined.

No one liked her, yet no one dared expel her either.

Mocking her was the only revenge they could safely take.

Now that she’d gone deeper into the forest, they could only hope the beasts would finish her.

*

The girl wandered for hours. She found no food, no animals.

The forest dimmed, and hunger made her limbs heavy.

It had been a full day since she last ate—she’d survived only by drinking water.

If she didn’t find food soon…

Her eyes turned to the tree bark.

Just then, she caught a flicker of motion—a rabbit darting past.

Revived with purpose, she chased after it.

She didn’t notice the mist rising, thickening until it hid all sense of direction.

When she stopped, she realized she was lost.

“Didn’t catch the rabbit, and now I’m lost too…” She gave a bitter smile. “Zhao Changyan, maybe Heaven really wants you dead.”

For days, she hadn’t truly slept—only dozed in brief fits.

Exhausted, starving, she finally collapsed against a tree, dropped her axe, and drifted into unconsciousness.

“Yan’er…”

“Yan’er, wake up.”

Hearing the voice, Zhao Changyan “opened” her eyes.

Her mother was calling to her.

“Mother!” Zhao Changyan cried, running forward. “Mother, I missed you so much!”

But her arms met only air.

Her mother, still clad in armor, stood silently at the edge of a bottomless abyss. “Yan’er, live on.”

“Mother!” Zhao Changyan ran toward her, but no matter how she tried, the distance never closed.

Suddenly, she stepped into emptiness—falling.

She jolted awake.

Night had fallen.

No abyss, no mother.

Her face was wet; she touched it and found it was her own tears.

…

Calming herself, Zhao Changyan stood and searched for a place to light a fire.

Then she saw it—a glow on the mountain above.

Could it be the foragers?

Hope surged. She hurried up a narrow trail toward the light.

After a long climb, bitten by insects and covered in welts, she finally reached the source.

And froze.

A bright, modern convenience store stood before her.

What… was that?

[Author’s Note]

Zhou Hao: I’m going to expand the supermarket!

Zhou Li: …It sure expanded—straight into interdimensional trade!

Fake supplier: Zhou Li, the small-time boss.
Real supplier: Zhou Hao, the big boss.

☢️☢️☢️