Ch 73: My Multiverse Supermarket

Zhou Li did not hurry back to her home plane to restock. Instead, she went directly to the interstellar plane, her shelves packed full of goods.

She had sold so little in the infinite plane—barely a tenth of her total stock—that there was no need to make an extra trip there.

The moment her supermarket materialized in the interstellar plane, Paul Bowman appeared.

He had been deeply curious about why the store had suddenly shown up last time, only to vanish again without ever opening. And, more importantly, what deal had Zhou Li made with Dr. Sophia?

Why had Dr. Sophia handed over her clinic’s medical capsule to Zhou Li without taking any goods in exchange?

City Hall had questioned Dr. Sophia several times in recent days, but she kept her lips tightly sealed.

When they pressed her, she had asked, “If you found out what we traded, what would you do with that information?”

Paul Bowman had replied, “Naturally, we’d want to explore further cooperation.”

But she saw right through him. “No—you just want to know what else this supermarket can trade besides daily necessities.”

Mia Star lacked more than just food and essentials.

If the supermarket could provide the things that humanity truly needed to survive this crisis, that would be the ideal outcome.

Dr. Sophia had ended the conversation coldly: “Our transaction is confidential. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll find out someday.”

…

Now, Paul Bowman decided to approach Zhou Li directly, hinting that City Hall could offer medical pods and pharmaceutical supplies in exchange.

Zhou Li, realizing she didn’t have any extra artifacts to trade, turned down his proposal.

Still, the medical capsule she had at home required a refill of medical reagents.

So, she posted a public notice: she was purchasing medical reagents.

On Mia Star, pharmaceuticals were divided into five main categories—S, A, B, C, and D—each with five levels from 1 to 5.

The lower the level, the looser the regulation, the weaker the effect, and the fewer the side effects. Such medicines were also cheaper.

For something like a cold or fever, level 1 or 2 was enough.
External injuries required higher-level medicines.
For terminal illnesses like cancer, only the top-grade reagents worked.

Zhou Li chose to buy only levels 1, 2, and 3.

She wasn’t in a rush—slow collection suited her just fine.

But she underestimated the reaction of the locals.

By that very afternoon, one of the pharmaceutical oligarchs of Mia Star had found her.

“We produce 80% of all medicines on Mia Star,” said Alexander Wolf, representative of Wolf Pharmaceuticals, with a self-assured smile. “Work with us, and you’ll have more medicine than you could ever use.”

Zhou Li replied dryly, “I’m not a pill jar—I don’t need endless medicine. And tell me, with Mia Star in this state, are you still able to produce and distribute it reliably?”

Alexander admitted, “Production has fallen due to environmental and resource constraints. But Wolf Pharmaceuticals still controls the lifeline of the Mia Star people.”

As conditions on the planet worsened, illness spread and the demand for medicine skyrocketed—making the Wolf family one of the most powerful dynasties on the planet. Even City Hall had to bow to them.

Zhou Li finally understood.

So this was the kind of rich parasite Lin Jianshan and her peers despised—the kind who grew fat off others’ suffering.

She asked, “What do you want?”

Alexander said, “We want a communication link to Blue Star.”

Zhou Li: ?

She didn’t have anything like that!

She muttered to her system, “Do these people think I’m from Blue Star or something?”

The system replied, “You’re only realizing that now? The moment you started branding your products with fake Blue Star logos, you made that impression inevitable.”

Zhou Li said, “I thought only City Hall and Dr. Sophia assumed that! And anyway, that wasn’t me pretending—it was you!”

The system tactfully ignored that last part. “There’s no such thing as a perfect secret. City Hall isn’t airtight. Ordinary people are too busy staying alive to think deeply—but the elite class is another story.”

Zhou Li couldn’t argue with that.

She told Alexander firmly, “No.”

A flash of irritation crossed his face, but he kept his composure. Instead, he tried moral pressure. “Why not? You clearly have contact with Blue Star—why won’t you share it? Do you know how many on Mia Star are suffering right now? How many are dying from this environment?”

Zhou Li smiled coldly. “It’s not that I won’t—it’s that I can’t. I don’t have such a channel. And before you question me, let me ask you something: if Wolf Pharmaceuticals really cared about the lives of Mia Star’s people, why hoard control of production? Why sit in your ivory tower and watch the poor die, unable to afford medicine? Why use it to hold City Hall hostage?”

That last accusation she had pieced together from Paul Bowman’s vague remarks.

If City Hall didn’t still command a small armed force—the Security Guard Corps—they’d have long since become puppets of the corporate oligarchs.

Zhou Li continued, “You don’t want Blue Star’s communication link for the sake of the people. You just want to save your own skins—to climb aboard the ‘Noah’s Ark’ and escape this world.”

The meeting ended badly.

As Alexander left, he gave her a dark, venomous look. “You’ll regret this.”

Zhou Li: …

Even with Mia Star collapsing, people like him still clung to their arrogance.

*

News that Alexander Wolf had visited the supermarket and left in anger—clearly after a failed negotiation—spread quickly across all circles that kept tabs on Zhou Li’s store.

The first to arrive was Chen Yuhui, director of the nearby orphanage.

After hearing from Zhou Li what Wolf Pharmaceuticals had proposed, Chen Yuhui’s face grew grave. “The Wolf family’s history is soaked in blood. Their hands are far from clean. That threat wasn’t about saving face—it was a warning. You need to be careful.”

“Thanks for the concern,” Zhou Li said calmly.

Then she added, “I’m not afraid of conspiracies, but just in case, I’ll transfer the hospital’s supplies to you now.”

Chen Yuhui didn’t refuse.

That night, after the supermarket closed, a massive shipment was quietly moved to the orphanage’s underground storage.

Meanwhile, a storm of public outrage was brewing in the neural network feeds.

…

“Lawyer Qu! You need to see this!”

Qu Shuyi, who had been working late, received a message from her community group just before bed.

Puzzled, she opened the link—and froze when she saw the trending topics.

MiaStarEndTimes

GoodLifeSupermarketExecutioner

Dozens of posts related to Good Life Supermarket were flooding the networks.

The uproar had begun with a leaked audio recording: a conversation between Zhou Li and Alexander Wolf.

In the clip, Alexander pleaded with Zhou Li to share her supposed communication channel with Blue Star “for the sake of Mia Star.” Zhou Li’s rejection was firm and merciless.

Qu Shuyi had suspected that the supermarket might somehow be connected to Blue Star, but hearing it confirmed still left her stunned.

Yet her professional instincts stopped her from jumping to conclusions.

In a world this technologically advanced, audio forgeries were the easiest thing to make.

Unfortunately, most people didn’t share her restraint.

They only knew hunger, sickness, and despair—too poor to eat, too cold to live, too broke to be treated, too forgotten to matter.

When a faint ray of hope had finally appeared—a humble supermarket selling affordable goods that seemed to promise survival—it turned out, at least to them, that the entire thing had been a performance of charity by the rich.

—They clearly can contact Blue Star, so why just stand by and watch people struggle to survive on this dying planet?

The supermarket owes everyone an explanation!

The furious people of Mia Star finally had an outlet for their rage. Crowds flooded the streets, demanding answers from the supermarket.

Even within the neighborhoods, many were stirred up by agitators.

Qu Shuyi tried desperately to talk them down. “Don’t be impulsive! Think about what happened to those punished or blacklisted by the supermarket before. Think about whether you can live without it afterward.”

Someone shouted angrily, “If we don’t demand the truth, aren’t we just sheep waiting to be sheared?”

The community leader immediately kicked the troublemakers out of the group chat.

Qu Shuyi warned again, “The shopkeeper isn’t City Hall. She won’t bow to violence. If you join this riot, you’ll only make things worse—harsher.”

Most residents weren’t looking for trouble anyway. Even if they resented the supermarket, they didn’t dare show it.

Deep down, they still wanted to live.

And as Qu Shuyi said, offending the supermarket would bring them no benefit.

Still, none of them tried to stop the crowd. After all, if the rioters somehow succeeded, they could always share in the rewards later.

Qu Shuyi hesitated, then decided to step out into the blizzard.

The cold offered her a bit of relief—there were far fewer rioters than she’d feared.

And when she saw that City Hall’s security corps had already surrounded the supermarket, she finally exhaled.

But she knew—the real battle would begin at dawn.

Seeing the lights still on upstairs, she realized Zhou Li hadn’t gone to rest.

As she approached, a guard blocked her path. “If you’re here to buy something, you can go in.”

“I’m here to see the shopkeeper.”

“What for?”

“I’m a lawyer. I might be able to help her.”

The guard hesitated, unable to decide. Only when a message came through—Zhou Li had agreed to see her—was Qu Shuyi allowed in during non-business hours.

The store was warm inside; the snow on her coat and hair melted the moment she stepped in.

She saw Lin Jianshan.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I’m an employee,” Lin said. “I’ll stick with the boss through thick and thin.”

Someone nearby chuckled. “You’re just a temp.”

“I’ll be permanent sooner or later.”

Qu Shuyi turned toward the voice—and blinked in surprise. “Dr. Sophia!”

Dr. Sophia smiled lightly. “What a surprise. I didn’t expect a lawyer to brave the storm—both outside and the one about to break.”

Qu Shuyi replied, “Because I believe in the boss.”

Zhou Li appeared, just coming downstairs. “Thank you. Come up for some tea.”

Qu Shuyi followed her up.

It was her first time seeing the second floor—and she was taken aback. The decor had the unmistakable look of 21st-century Blue Star. No wonder people assumed the owner was from there.

Still, she thought to herself, If she really were from Blue Star, she wouldn’t decorate so tackily.

In the living room, she spotted a familiar face: Tang Lingzhou, captain of the City Hall Security Corps.

They’d met often through work.

“Quite a lively night,” Dr. Sophia said casually, perfectly at ease.

Zhou Li remained courteous toward Qu Shuyi, who had come with good intentions. “What kind of tea do you like? Green, black, oolong, or dark tea? I’ve got Longjing, Biluochun, Keemun, Tieguanyin, Dahongpao, Pu’er…”

Most of those names were foreign to Qu Shuyi. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Zhou Li poured her a cup.

After a sip, Qu Shuyi spoke frankly. “The technology for forensic audio authentication is advanced. I can help verify the recording.”

Zhou Li smiled slightly. “Thank you—but if you help me, you’ll be dragged into this mess too.”

Tang Lingzhou added, “If I recall correctly, your mother is still in the hospital. Getting involved might not be wise.”

“But…” Qu Shuyi hesitated, then said quietly, “I can’t just watch the boss be falsely accused.”

Zhou Li asked, “You really believe I’m not from Blue Star?”

Qu Shuyi nodded. “If Mia Star could contact Blue Star, they wouldn’t have ignored us for all these years. That would make no sense. Blue Star needs Mia Star’s orka. Before the resources ran out, they’d never abandon such a rich supply.

“The only explanation for their silence is that whatever disaster struck us also hit them—maybe even severed the route between the two worlds.

“And if we think pessimistically… maybe Blue Star’s situation is just as bad as ours.”

As for the supermarket’s origin—Qu Shuyi didn’t even try to guess. That was far beyond her reach.

Zhou Li smiled but neither confirmed nor denied anything.

Tang Lingzhou looked disappointed at failing to pry out the truth, but she didn’t press. “It’s easy enough to prove whether the recording is fake,” she said, “but getting the public to think rationally again—that’s the real problem.”

After all, Alexander had already linked the supermarket to Blue Star. Even if the recording was disproved, people would still believe there was a connection—and channel all their fear of the apocalypse into hatred for the supermarket.

Mia Star was a powder keg now, just waiting for a spark.

And Wolf had just lit the fuse.

Zhou Li herself wasn’t afraid—but City Hall certainly was.

If she walked away, City Hall would lose its only stable supply line. Then, tens of thousands more would die.

And City Hall knew the truth: the Wolf family’s real target was them.

Ever since City Hall had begun receiving supplies from the supermarket, they’d stood a little taller—no longer dependent on the oligarchs.

That made the elite—families like the Wolfs—uneasy. It wasn’t a shift they welcomed.

They wanted control again. They wanted to restore the old order from before the catastrophe.

Lin Jianshan was disgusted. “What do they gain from that?”

Tang Lingzhou said coolly, “They don’t care about the future. Even if the whole planet dies, they’ll clutch what little remains until they’re the last to perish.”

Appealing to their conscience in the name of ‘human solidarity’? Impossible.

“So what do we do now?” Qu Shuyi asked.

Everyone turned to the calm figure at the eye of the storm—Zhou Li.

[Author’s Note]

Zhao Changyan: “How can the interstellar plane be so ungrateful? Boss, you should just stay with us!”

An Yixiao: “There are so many dungeons in the Infinite Plane the boss hasn’t even visited yet. Better come back here often.”

Mia Star citizens: [clown][clown][clown]

☢️☢️☢️

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