Ch 7: My Multiverse Supermarket

Although Zhou Li had done her best to protect her customers’ rights, human greed was limitless.

For the sake of profit, new methods of “robbing the rich to feed myself” kept emerging.

—They couldn’t steal the membership cards, but surely they could steal what was bought with them, right?

The Dayue woman and her daughter witnessed it firsthand: the noodles that Qiao Sinian had just finished cooking were snatched away—pot and all—by a man.

Though her aunt, cousin, and siblings ran after him, they were blocked by his accomplices.

By the time they found the culprit, the soup noodles were long gone. All they got back was an empty pot.

Afterward, they went to Old Chen to demand justice.

But the people from Chen Village rejected them, saying they weren’t of the Chen family and thus had no right to interfere. They united to exclude the Qiao family.

Old Chen might have been a village head back home, but away from their homeland, his authority and influence had diminished greatly.

Besides, deep down, his loyalty still leaned toward his own people.

Qiao Sinian, helpless, decided to seek help from Zhou Li.

But it was lunchtime—Zhou Li had gone upstairs to cook.

Zhao Changyan, who was tending the store, told her, “I already said, the divine lady will not entangle herself in mortal karma.”

Qiao Sinian’s eyes filled with tears, resentment welling up in her heart.

Zhao Changyan’s tone was cold. “Today you were robbed, so you ask the divine lady for help. Tomorrow someone else will be robbed, and they’ll ask the same. Over time, you’ll all become dependent on her. But the divine lady is here to cultivate, not to shoulder mortal burdens. When she leaves, and no one remains to solve your problems, will you blame her then?”

“But…”

Zhao Changyan snapped, “If I were you, I’d buy a knife. And the next person who dares offend you—feed the blade with his blood!”

Qiao Sinian suddenly remembered—Zhao Changyan was infamous as a fierce and ruthless woman.

Her behavior was often criticized, and she was shunned for it, but no one ever dared cross her.

In that instant, Qiao Sinian understood.

With grim resolve, she bought a set of “Yangjiang Eighteen Knives.”

The set contained four blades: a cleaver strong enough to split pig bones, a slicing knife for daily use, a fruit knife, and a pair of scissors.

Qiao Sinian handed the slicing knife to her aunt, the fruit knife to her cousin, and kept the cleaver for herself.

Her voice was hard. “If you want to bully us, then don’t blame us for being vicious. Life’s cheap anyway—let’s see who dares trade theirs for mine.”

In chaotic times, power belonged to those with strength—and the will to use it.

Those watching hesitated, their eyes flickering. Something subtle had shifted.

*

On the second floor of the house, Zhou Li stood by the window, quietly observing the scene below.

She thought Zhao Changyan’s approach wasn’t wrong.

She could, of course, intimidate the crowd by banning troublemakers from the supermarket.

But that wouldn’t solve things long-term.

People on the blacklist could simply send others to shop for them.

Even collective punishment couldn’t completely prevent it.

And if she got involved personally, what if things didn’t turn out as the people hoped—would they then blame her?

Zhou Li sighed regretfully. “Zhao Changyan sees things so clearly for someone so young. If only she’d keep working for me forever.”

The system said, “You could hire her as a permanent employee.”

Zhou Li shook her head. “Someone who can say things like that—she’s ambitious. She won’t stop here.”

Then she sniffed the air. “System, do you smell something burning?”

System: “No. But you might want to check the kitchen. Maybe the braised pork’s burning.”

Zhou Li: “Ahhhh! My beautiful pork belly!”

Twenty minutes later, Zhou Li packed lunch into a disposable box and brought it downstairs for Zhao Changyan.

Zhao Changyan was deeply moved.

She hadn’t expected such a rich meal from the Little Boss.

Though the meat looked a little charred, it smelled delicious.

She took a big bite and exclaimed, “I’ve never eaten such tasty meat! What kind is it?”

“Braised pork,” Zhou Li said proudly.

System: “…Proud of what? You used a pre-made sauce packet. The only thing you did was take the pork out of the freezer.”

Zhou Li thought indignantly, “I boiled it first! You have to parboil it to remove the smell—basic skill!”

Zhao Changyan was amazed.

Braised pork—wasn’t that made with pork? Why didn’t this divine version smell at all?

She murmured with awe, “Truly a dish fit for the heavens.”

Zhou Li: …

Whatever you’re imagining, it’s definitely not that.

*

While Zhao Changyan ate, Zhou Li took over her sales duties.

Fortunately, those who had already gotten their membership cards were now guiding newcomers themselves.

Every new customer arrived with confidence and purpose.

By the end of the afternoon, Zhou Li had secured over twenty new members for the supermarket.

Including Zhao Changyan and the morning group, there were now thirty-two members in total.

There were nearly two hundred people between the Chu and Dayue refugees, but since most registered by household, the number of cards seemed small.

Still, the total balance on those thirty-two cards exceeded 250,000 yuan.

Most had traded items worth under a thousand yuan. Only a handful, like Xian Sanniang, had balances near fifty thousand—and only Dou Girl had exceeded one hundred thousand.

*

Customers came steadily from dawn till dusk.

A few who tried to steal were immediately thrown out by the store’s protective barrier, shocking everyone else into obedience.

As darkness fell, the small supermarket shone like a beacon—its light guiding the desperate refugees.

On the grassy field about thirty meters away, the people made camp.

Perhaps influenced by the day’s events, the refugees—once divided simply into Chu and Dayue groups—had now fractured into dozens of smaller clusters.

Still, the Chu and Dayue camps stayed far apart.

With the supermarket as the center, the trampled dirt road before its door became their invisible border.

Chu on the left, Dayue on the right.

Dou Dailang and Xian Sanniang set up the mosquito net they’d bought earlier that day—an extra-large one with built-in supports.

They spread out a few straw mats inside, enough for their family of four to lie down comfortably.

Others saw this and realized they’d forgotten something crucial—they’d only bought food, not sleeping gear.

Luckily, the supermarket stayed open at night.

Around seven or eight, a second shopping wave began.

The only problem: there weren’t enough mosquito nets.

In modern times, most homes had window screens or used mosquito repellent, so few people still bought nets. Zhou Li’s small supermarket had stocked barely a dozen.

She added mosquito nets to her next supply list to ensure better inventory later.

Then she noticed something else in the stockroom and had an idea.

“There may not be enough mosquito nets,” she said, “but we do have waterproof tarps. It rains often here—you can use them to make shelters. They’ll keep the rain out and create enclosed spaces. Not as good against bugs, but you can burn mosquito coils to help with that.”

In her world, tarps were widely used—farmers covered produce on rainy market days, families made patio canopies, and car owners used them for shade.

Her late coworker, Zhou Hao, had once bought 1,000 square meters of tarp for cheap bulk pricing.

When Zhou Li took over the shop, she’d asked, “Why on earth did you stock so much?”

He had answered confidently, “Because buying over a thousand square meters gets you an 0.8 yuan discount per square!”

Each roll was two meters wide, ten meters long, costing 7 yuan per square meter wholesale and selling for 10.

The refugees were thrilled.

With tarps, they no longer needed to use banana leaves for makeshift roofs.

Dou Dailang bought one roll, cut it to size with his new scissors, and—working with others—built a large canopy over the mosquito net.

Normally by this time, everyone would be asleep.

But tonight, the mountaintop buzzed like a modern construction site.

The supermarket’s bright lights made them reluctant to waste the night.

By ten o’clock, when the store finally closed, people began to settle down.

*

Zhao Changyan didn’t sleep inside.

After work, she set up her own small “nest” outside the supermarket.

Zhou Li allowed it—there was a canopy overhead, so even in the rain, she’d stay dry.

To the refugees, this was proof of her divine status.

Why else would the goddess allow her to guard the entrance to her sacred dwelling?

Zhao Changyan let them believe whatever they wanted.

She hung her mosquito net, chased out the bugs inside, and was about to rest when Qiao Sinian appeared.

“Chang Qiniang,” she said softly, “the mountain gets cold at night. Why not come to our shelter? We’ve built a canopy—it keeps out wind and rain.”

“I’m fine here,” Zhao Changyan replied.

She understood perfectly—Qiao Sinian was trying to build alliances after suffering from isolation.

But Zhao Changyan was a lone wolf—fierce, untamed, and dangerous to approach.

Did they really think such a wolf could be tamed?

*

On the third floor of the self-built house, in the study, Zhou Li still hadn’t gone to bed.

She closed the curtains, opened her laptop, and quietly updated the purchasing list.

Her old inventory had been based on modern needs.

But now that she was doing interplane trade, the goods had to change.

If this venture succeeded, this world would become her first established market.

So the supermarket’s stock must match the needs—and the purchasing power—of its people.

No use buying luxury items worth tens of thousands if no one could afford them.

“First off, in a time like this, food and water are most scarce. I’ll order more affordable rice and flour. But, as they say, give a man a fish and he eats for a day—teach him to fish, and he eats for a lifetime. Since crops from the Americas probably haven’t arrived yet, I could introduce sweet potatoes, corn, and potatoes here. Whether they’ll grow them is up to this world.”

“Then, farming tools—their livelihood depends on those. I’ll need to ask Mom where to buy them.”

Before taking over the shop, Zhou Li had spent nearly a decade living in the city and knew little about local suppliers.

“I should also restock oil, salt, and sugar—and soybeans, since they’re so versatile.”

“Come to think of it, everyone here looks yellow and sickly. At first, I thought it was hunger—but real starvation makes your belly swell. Considering the environment, they might have schistosomiasis… I should get some over-the-counter antibiotics and antiparasitic meds.”

Then Zhou Li paused and deleted the medicine section.

Her small supermarket didn’t have a pharmaceutical license. She could use medicine privately, maybe even sell some quietly—but not through official sales.

If customers used their membership cards for medicine, it would mess up her books.

“Raw pumpkin seeds can deworm people,” she muttered, adding pumpkins to the list.

Along with pumpkins, she added sweet potatoes and corn—fresh produce that would occupy a new section in her store.

While she worked, rain began tapping softly on the window.

It was raining.

[Author’s Note]

Before interplane trade:
Zhou Li: “Mom, why did you build an illegal structure?” (referring to a 60 m² prefab warehouse)

After interplane trade:
Zhou Li: “Mom, do we still have space to expand the warehouse?”

☢️☢️☢️