Ch 92: My Multiverse Supermarket

Zhou Li eventually received a massive condom order.

However, she made Qiao Siniang a promise: “If they sit in storage too long and you can’t sell them, you can return them.”

In fact, most manufacturers working with supermarkets already had return policies for near-expiry products.

Even if Qiao Siniang’s sales were poor and she brought them back, Zhou Li wouldn’t have to worry about losses.

After all, she could sell to many different worlds—more customers, more demand.

…

Zhou Li spent seven days in the ancient world, and the supermarket’s shelves were almost empty.

She planned to return to her original world to restock, but first, she had to send An Fengxuan back to the Infinite World.

This time, when the supermarket jumped between dimensions, it landed in the Public Hall again—but not near the Blue Owl Guild.

“I thought we’d end up in another dungeon again,” Zhou Li said to the system.

The system replied, “After spending time in the Public Hall, I’ve basically figured out the coordinate patterns of this world. I can roughly distinguish between dungeon zones and public zones. But pinpointing exact coordinates is still impossible.”

“That’s already good enough,” Zhou Li said with satisfaction.

She gave An Fengxuan some time off.

The moment An Fengxuan saw her communication device reconnect, she immediately contacted An Yixiao.

But since An Yixiao was inside a dungeon, the only one she could reach was Chen Jiaoyan.

Zhou Li didn’t bother warning An Fengxuan not to wander—no matter where she went, the supermarket could lock onto her location as an anchor point.

*

Back in her familiar village, Zhou Li resumed contacting various suppliers.

She wasn’t in a rush to return to the Interstellar World, so she gave herself a day off.

Before taking over the supermarket, her idea of “time off” usually meant spending a day in the library.

This time was no exception.

She visited the library, picked out a few books she needed, and ordered some new ones online.

Then, she sat down in the park outside and took out a tool—[Deliver a Letter].

As the name implied, this tool sent letters. Original translation at HololoNovels dot com. What made it special was that it ignored spatial and regional limits, delivering directly into the recipient’s hands without revealing the sender’s identity.

Back in the Interstellar World, she had obtained Orka energy crystals and some experimental medicine. She’d long planned to let researchers study them but hadn’t known how to hand them over safely—so they’d just sat in her house.

Now, with this item, she could finally send them out.

She first sent the Orka energy crystals—collected using her [Treasure-Spitting Toad]—to several energy research institutes. Once she had their attention, she’d send over the medicine samples.

If she sent the medicine first, they might not take it seriously. Then her hard-won acquisition would go to waste.

She still had a [Farm-Type Light Generator], though it was damaged. She planned to repair it before passing it along to a research lab.

As for the medical pod, she decided the timing wasn’t right to reveal that yet.

After handling all that, Zhou Li had lunch outside, then caught a rideshare back home.

When she arrived, a few delivery couriers were standing around her vending machine.

After asking, she learned that a customer had placed an order through her supermarket’s mobile app.

Zhou Li: …

She’d completely forgotten about the app since the system hadn’t reminded her of the progress.

Opening the admin panel, she was surprised to find plenty of orders—most from the district where the logistics park was being planned.

Since the system was managing the backend automatically, Zhou Li didn’t have to worry about it.

Then one of the couriers asked, “Boss, I saw the job post saying you’re hiring warehouse workers—is that true?”

It took Zhou Li a couple of seconds to remember that after renovating the village warehouse, she’d told the system to post online job ads for warehouse staff.

She needed three—responsible for inventory, guarding the warehouse, and handling freight.

Because the supermarket’s supply flow was huge and constantly jumping between worlds, the job required moving stock daily between the warehouse and the store—a physically demanding task. Hence, the pay was high (for local standards).

She hadn’t expected applicants this fast.

Zhou Li realized that staying too long in other worlds had dulled her sense of time.

The ad had gone up just yesterday, but to her, it felt like ten or fifteen days had passed.

If that courier hadn’t mentioned it, she would’ve forgotten entirely.

For the first time, Zhou Li truly understood what the system had warned about—the side effects of long stays in other dimensions.

“Yes,” Zhou Li said. “Five thousand a month. Two shifts. You’ll need a driver’s license and good physical strength.”

The courier eagerly volunteered. “What about me? I’m in good shape, and I’ve got a license.”

Zhou Li smiled. “How about finishing your deliveries first and coming back for an interview later?”

The courier blinked, then awkwardly said, “Alright.”

After they left, Mu Kun, who had clearly been eavesdropping from next door, came over munching melon seeds. “That app of yours turned out great.”

Though some time had passed, Zhou Li still remembered that she’d introduced the app developer—her old classmate—to Mu Kun.

She asked, “Aunt Mu, did you get the breakfast shop app made too?”

Mu Kun waved a hand. “Nah. Too expensive. Waste of money.”

Zhou Li nodded and didn’t pry further.

Then Mu Kun said, “Hey, is your supermarket app open to partners? Maybe I could list my breakfast shop on it?”

Zhou Li: “Huh?”

“I’ll pay a five-hundred-yuan monthly listing fee. How about that?”

Zhou Li wasn’t sure whether five hundred a month for a listing fee was standard, but since shop rent at the village entrance was only about a thousand yuan, and Mu Kun’s breakfast stall—no matter how well it did—had limited customers, earning three to five thousand a month at best (and maybe not even five after paying utilities), the price wasn’t bad.

After thinking for a moment, Zhou Li said, “Alright, I’ll ask my senior how to set that up.”

She contacted her old classmate—the one who had made the app—and also paid off the remaining balance for the project.

Her senior said, “I just took a look. The backend’s done really well! Did you hire a professional company?”

The senior had only developed the front-end. All the other features of the app had been completed by the system itself.

Of course, Zhou Li couldn’t tell the truth. She replied, “Yeah, I happened to have a relative in the village who’s good at this kind of thing, so I had them help.”

Luckily, the senior didn’t press further, just explained how to add partner shops to the app.

After hanging up, Zhou Li was still a bit confused.

The system said, “You could’ve just let me optimize it. Why bother asking others?”

Zhou Li replied, “It’s called social interaction.”

System: ?

“I need to practice normal socializing.”

Because of her unusual circumstances, she could never interact normally in other worlds—
in the ancient world, she was seen as a goddess;
in the interstellar world, people speculated she was from Blue Star;
and in the Infinite World, people placed strange hopes upon her.

So back in her own world, she just wanted to be Zhou Li again—having normal, human conversations.

Once that was handled, Zhou Li threw herself back into work.

In her spare time, she continued studying the three candidate worlds, deciding that after her next trip to the interstellar world, she would open the next one.

…

After two days in her home world—meeting several new suppliers and interviewing a few job applicants—Zhou Li didn’t need to decide immediately. Original translation at HololoNovels dot com. She took their résumés and then performed a dimensional jump.

*

Interstellar World — Mia Star.

Ever since the violent riot targeting the Good Life Supermarket, the atmosphere among Mia’s communities had grown tense.

The conflict between the Richter family and Wolf Pharmaceuticals had erupted, and neither side was willing to back down. As a result, patients at Richter Hospital were the first to suffer.

Soon after, pharmacies began running out of medicine. Wolf Pharmaceuticals blamed Richter Mining, claiming energy restrictions had disrupted production and raised costs, forcing a price hike.

Everyone knew Wolf was just deflecting public anger—trying to use outrage to pressure the Richter family into surrendering first.

The city hall tried mediating, but with little effect.

It was under this heavy, uneasy atmosphere that the Good Life Supermarket reappeared.

Because it wasn’t yet open, no one could enter. Only Lin Jianshan, who worked there, was allowed inside thirty minutes before opening.

Upon seeing Zhou Li, Lin Jianshan couldn’t help venting, “Boss, everyone thought you’d lost faith in us—that you weren’t coming back.”

Zhou Li had just finished some therapy sessions with her mom back home, spent time in the Infinite World, and stayed seven days in the ancient world. She’d nearly forgotten what had even happened here.

“Why would I lose faith in them?” Zhou Li said casually. “They’re just customers.”

Lin Jianshan blinked. “Ah… like you once said—‘In our line of work, the worst thing is to get emotionally involved,’ right?”

Zhou Li: ? Did I say that? When?

Maybe she’d said it offhand before and forgotten. She didn’t think much of it.

Lin then briefed her about how the conflict between the Richter family and Wolf Pharmaceuticals had disrupted civilian life.

Finally, Lin muttered, “Actually, the Richter family only started this to stand up for you—but Wolf Pharmaceuticals has no limits.”

The implication was clear: the rioters who’d been manipulated by Wolf and targeted the supermarket were just reaping what they’d sown.

She didn’t want Zhou Li to pity them.

Zhou Li asked, “Is Wolf the only pharmaceutical company on Mia?”

“There are others, but none as large. Wolf dominates the industry because they hold the majority of drug patents and formulas.”

Zhou Li frowned. “Don’t you people have any kind of antitrust laws?”

Lin Jianshan just stared at her, confused.

Then a familiar voice echoed from upstairs—An Fengxuan. “Aghh, Boss! Why is it so cold here?!”

She bolted down the stairs, finally feeling some warmth.

Zhou Li sighed. “Who told you to sleep with the window open?”

“It was too hot in the Public Hall!” An Fengxuan protested.

The Public Hall was always temperate—around twenty degrees Celsius—but she hadn’t turned on the fan or air system, choosing to open the window instead.

Then, as she slept, it was as if someone had kicked her from a spring garden straight into the Antarctic tundra.

If the temperature drop had been gradual, it might’ve been fine—but this was a cliff-drop freeze!

If she weren’t physically strong, she would’ve frozen to death from hypothermia.

After shutting the window, the cold vanished—but her sleepiness didn’t return.

Checking the time, she washed up and went downstairs to work.

Only then did she notice another girl in the supermarket.

“This is our stock clerk,” Zhou Li said. “And this is our security guard.”

Stock Clerk Lin Jianshan and Security Guard An Fengxuan eyed each other warily.

Lin instinctively felt cautious—something about this new girl seemed dangerous.

An Fengxuan, on the other hand, quietly assessed Lin and assumed she must be a temp worker.

After all, only full employees could travel across worlds with the boss—and she’d never seen this one before.

“I’m Lin Jianshan.”

“I’m An Fengxuan.”

Their first meeting was tense, both women on guard.

Lin had grown up an orphan, surviving harsh streets—suspicion was second nature to her.

An Fengxuan, forged through deadly dungeons and betrayals, was equally defensive toward strangers.

Zhou Li finally said, “Alright, both of you—back to work.”

That single command broke the tension.

An Fengxuan thought, If the boss hired her, she must be trustworthy.

Lin Jianshan, on the other hand, couldn’t help feeling envious—what did it take to become a permanent employee?

Then she remembered that she’d once had the chance but chose to stay with her friends at the orphanage instead.

Oh well—what’s done is done.

Still, anyone who became a full employee must be someone the boss truly trusted.

☢️☢️☢️