Ch 88: My Multiverse Supermarket

The Home World & the Ancient World

Last time, Gong Qiongxian had ordered a large amount of grain from Zhou Li.

So when Zhou Li returned to her home world this time, most of her restocking centered around food supplies.

Gong Qiongxian’s order totaled 1.18 million jin (approximately 590 tons) of grain. Bulk rice was packed in 100-jin bags, so she needed 11,800 bags in total.

Worried that such a massive shipment might attract government attention, Zhou Li discussed it with Gong Qiongxian and Zhao Changyan, and they agreed to replace some of the rice with flour, potatoes, and sweet potatoes.

Potatoes and sweet potatoes could be planted and also used as famine relief crops, and Gong Qiongxian believed they were worth promoting.

However, Zhou Li warned, they couldn’t replace rice as a staple food.

Because these crops were also vulnerable to disease, large-scale planting could trigger disasters like late blight, causing devastating agricultural losses.

The most famous example, she said, was the Irish Great Famine.

So, keeping their proportion to about 10–20% of total planting would be enough.

The final revised order became:

• 800,000 jin of rice (8,000 bags)
• 80,000 jin of egg noodles (10,000 boxes, 8 jin each)
• 100,000 jin each of potatoes, sweet potatoes, and corn.

Originally, Zhou Li thought she’d need to deliver in multiple batches—but then she received good news from the system.

“The spatial folding storage technology you requested has been approved. You may use it once per month, for up to 48 hours each time.”

The system explained that the technique consumed immense energy, and limiting its use to under 48 hours was the most efficient balance.

Not only did it save power, it also allowed Zhou Li to fulfill large multi-world orders in one go—and served as preparation for opening new world routes.

Overjoyed, Zhou Li still had one concern. “But with such a big order, won’t the authorities notice?”

The system couldn’t help her with that part.

Thinking it over, she opened the National Grain Trading Center’s official website—and there, she spotted an announcement from a local reserve grain company about a rice auction.

On a whim, she clicked on the link.

Normally, registration was required—but she found that the computer, or rather the IP address, was already registered.

It didn’t take a genius to guess—the registered user was her mother, Ms. Zhou Hao.

Zhou Li was stunned and immediately called her mother. “Mom, you’re a member of the National Grain Trading Center?”

The trading center used a membership system.

Both buyers and sellers had to submit documentation and be verified by provincial trading authorities.

Only licensed domestic grain, oil, and feed companies could trade there.

Her little family supermarket obviously didn’t qualify.

So how on earth had her mother pulled this off?

Zhou Hao made a puzzled sound. “Hmm? Why are you poking around there? Our shop doesn’t need bulk grain like that.”

Zhou Li stiffened—her mother was too perceptive.

But Zhou Hao wasn’t fishing for answers. She continued casually, “We once bought grain from nearby villages, so I got the necessary licenses for grain and oil trade just in case.”

Zhou Li was speechless.

Are those kinds of permits really that easy to get?

Mother, how many surprises are you hiding from me?

But even then, her mom hadn’t used a computer in ages—so how did the site log in automatically?

“That was me,” said the system.

“…Excuse me?” Zhou Li said. “Didn’t you say you couldn’t help me with this kind of problem?”

“I can’t solve your problem of moving 1.18 million jin of grain,” said the system matter-of-factly. “But if you want to legally purchase grain through the trading center, and you already have valid documentation and qualifications, I can handle the process for you.”

Zhou Li was silent for a moment, then asked, “So I can now buy grain and oil openly through official channels?”

“Yes.”

It felt almost too easy—but with that burden lifted, she could finally breathe again.

As for whether selling such a large amount of grain to the ancient world would deplete domestic reserves—there was no need to worry.

While the country strictly regulated grain import and export quotas, her total wasn’t significant.

Aside from Gong Qiongxian’s large order, her cumulative sales before this were less than 400,000 jin—about 200 tons.

The country mainly imported corn and soybeans.

For staples like rice and wheat, self-sufficiency exceeded 95%.

Even with domestic needs secured, China still exported nearly 2 million tons of rice annually.

Her total—200 tons previously plus 400 tons now—made 600 tons in all.

A 600-ton export wouldn’t make the slightest dent in the market.

Still, Zhou Li decided she wouldn’t take such large grain orders again—not out of fear of shortages, but because the spatial folding storage technology was incredibly expensive.

*

As soon as she arrived in the Ancient World, the system’s voice echoed urgently:

“Warning: remaining system energy supports only three standard interdimensional transfers and one emergency transfer. Frequent travel between worlds is not recommended!”

Zhou Li sighed. “Got it, got it. I’ll have them pick up the goods right away, then shut off the storage function.”

*

An Fengxuan came rushing down the stairs.

“Boss!”

Zhou Li rubbed her temples—her head was still buzzing from the system’s chatter. “What is it?”

An Fengxuan glanced outside.

Though the night beyond was pitch black, she could clearly tell the scenery had changed.

But her Boss looked completely unfazed—as if she’d seen it all before.

An Fengxuan calmed herself and asked, “Boss, since we’ve left the Public Hall, does that mean we’ve entered another dungeon?”

“This is another world,” said Zhou Li, looking at her.

Even though An Fengxuan had mentally prepared herself, hearing those words still sent a shiver through her chest; her pupils contracted slightly.

Zhou Li continued, “Although you’re an official employee and most likely immune to the viruses and bacteria here, I don’t recommend wandering around. I don’t take responsibility for collecting employee corpses.”

An Fengxuan recalled that whether in the dungeons or the Public Hall, the Boss never seemed to leave the supermarket.

She knew she wasn’t nearly as capable as the Boss—though her abilities and items still worked, someone who could travel freely between entire worlds was clearly far more powerful and mysterious—so she naturally decided not to go exploring.

“I understand… Boss, it looks like someone’s outside. Should I open the door?”

“No need. Whatever they need, they’ll buy from the vending machines. Go get some rest; we open for business at eight in the morning.”

How am I supposed to sleep after this? thought An Fengxuan.

She had just traveled to another world—without getting hit by a car or any freak accident. Wasn’t this exactly how romance-novel heroines started their stories!?

On instinct, she tried using her comms device to contact An Yixiao, but there was no signal at all.

So she went back to bed, pulled out a photo frame from her “elementary school backpack” (which An Yixiao had returned to her before she left), and set it on the nightstand.

It was the An family’s portrait.

Hearing faint noises outside, she leaned on the windowsill to watch for a long while, then eventually fell asleep under the starlight and moon.

*

Zhou Li had already informed the people of Immortal Village that she would “descend” for seven days each month—from the first to the seventh day.

Today was the first day of the month.

Zhou Wanniang and Hua Xiangzhi arrived again, this time bringing along their sisters-in-law and a few friends.

With soldiers escorting them, they no longer feared mountain bandits or thieves along the way.

Qiao Siniang traveled with them, taking advantage of the protection to return to Immortal Village safely.

—Though they’d learned to be cautious after a few close calls, they still worried whenever they went out for business.

Sometimes it wasn’t bandits or rebels that were dangerous, but desperate refugees with nothing left to lose.

Fortunately, after the Dayue court publicly announced the existence of the goddess, refugees passing through Yangshan Pass became much more restrained.

They feared that if the goddess witnessed their crimes, she might bring divine punishment upon them.

When Zhou Wanniang saw Qiao Siniang with them, she called her over and asked about the supermarket.

She had visited once before, but that time had been purely to meet the goddess. She hadn’t brought anything to trade.

Before she could return with proper offerings, the goddess and her “celestial dwelling” had vanished together—so she’d missed both the audience and her chance to shop.

This time, she had come prepared, bringing a large selection of fine goods as offerings.

Qiao Siniang explained, “The goddess doesn’t accept offerings from anyone. Lady Zhou should just exchange these items for points to use in shopping. As long as everyone buys goods from the celestial dwelling, the goddess will be pleased.”

Zhou Wanniang and the others found it odd.

Whenever they went to temples or monasteries, they always brought offerings and donated incense money—what the monks and priests called redemption or merit silver.

This goddess truly was different from the rest.

Chatting as they went, they reached Immortal Village and found empty houses to stay in for the night.

At dawn, the servants reported that the goddess had descended again and that the celestial dwelling had reappeared.

After washing up, everyone joined the villagers and made their way up the mountain in a long, bustling procession.

Zhao Changyan was among them.

Gong Qiongxian had already returned to the capital, leaving Zhao Changyan behind to deliver the ordered grain and salt back to the capital. That way, Gong Qiongxian could later take credit for the shipment—and use the opportunity to push Zhao Changyan into the military ranks.

In Dayue, most generals were eunuchs, so Gong Qiongxian had to return early to make arrangements.

Qiao Siniang saw Zhao Changyan in her official robes but didn’t approach her.

From the moment Zhao Changyan had left for the capital, their paths had already diverged.

Still, Qiao Siniang felt deep gratitude toward her for the guidance and help she had once given.

When they reached the mountaintop, everyone was greeted by the familiar sight of the celestial dwelling they hadn’t seen in so long.

But to their surprise—this time, there was someone new standing beside the goddess: a divine envoy.

☢️☢️☢️