Ch 137: My Multiverse Supermarket

Earth, primary plane

Before leaving the world of Magic and Steam, Zhou Li handed a 235 mm aperture reflecting telescope—worth sixty thousand yuan—to Kemeigao.

She didn’t tell him its true price. Kemeigao thought twenty gold coins were enough to buy such a professional astronomical instrument.

He even started thinking about dismantling it to study its structure, then buying another one to give to Leavitt.

Zhou Li saw right through him and said, “It’s a custom-made limited model. There’s only one.”

Kemeigao noticed the engraving on the telescope—Henrietta Swan Leavitt.

He smiled. “Henrietta will be thrilled.”

Zhou Li didn’t know whether he’d actually give it to her or hide it away, and frankly, it was out of her hands.

She’d done what she could. Whether it would change Leavitt’s fate was up to the world itself.

As for the “earthquake” Wendisha had stirred up within the Senate—that had nothing to do with her.

When the time came, Zhou Li sent An Fengxuan back to the Infinite Plane.

Since An Fengxuan had just finished her promotion dungeon, The Game wouldn’t pull her into another one anytime soon. Zhou Li decided to give her a few extra days off.

When Zhou Li returned to the Earth plane, it was just past midnight. She was about to take a shower and sleep when a WeChat voice message from her mother, Zhou Hao, popped up:

“Little Pear, are you asleep? Do you miss Mom? I came home earlier today…”

Zhou Li jolted upright and quickly told the system, “Use the spatial-folding storage to pack up the medical pod.”

Then she went to the guest room to stash away all of An Fengxuan’s belongings. Pillows, sheets, quilts—anything that could leave traces of another person—were stuffed into a woven sack and shoved into the closet.

She slipped An Fengxuan’s slippers into dustproof bags and placed them neatly on the hallway shoe rack—because without dust, how else could she explain their spotless state?

Thinking over other potential traces, she suddenly remembered the kitchen and bathroom.

In the kitchen, she packed away extra bowls and chopsticks, and even transferred food that didn’t match her taste from the fridge into bags, tossing them into the supermarket’s freezer under the excuse of “helping someone store it.”

In the bathroom, she removed An Fengxuan’s toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, body wash, facial cleanser—even her comb.

After over an hour of scrubbing away every sign that another person had ever lived there, Zhou Li finally breathed in relief.

Then she asked the system, “Now that my mom’s home, can we still perform dimensional travel?”

The system replied, “Let’s hope you can find a way to solve that problem.”

Zhou Li: …

Speechless, she muttered, “What do you expect me to do, kick my mom out? Besides, this supermarket is hers. Why didn’t you bind her instead of me in the first place?”

System: “Time cannot be reversed. There is no ‘in the first place.’”

Zhou Li knew it was too late for that argument.

…

The next morning, she didn’t wake until eight.

Pretending she’d just seen the message, she texted back with mock surprise: “Mom, you’re finally coming back? What time’s your train?”

Zhou Hao replied, “Just boarded. I’ll arrive around 10:30.”

“Want me to pick you up on my scooter?” Their house wasn’t far from the high-speed rail station; one round-trip wouldn’t drain much power.

“No need,” her mother said. “Just mind the store.”

Zhou Li freshened up and went downstairs.

Instead of making breakfast, she decided to drop by Mu Kun’s shop for a bowl of warm century-egg and lean-pork congee.

It wasn’t yet working hours, and the small breakfast shop was packed with workers in uniforms.

Mu Kun was busy behind the counter. When she saw Zhou Li, she called out, “Here for breakfast? Help yourself, I’m swamped.”

“I’ll serve myself,” Zhou Li said, ladling a bowl of congee from the pot.

Since no seats were free, she brought it back to the supermarket to eat.

A few of the workers followed her in.

“Got cigarettes?” one asked.

“We don’t sell those,” Zhou Li replied.

They scanned the shop, found no smokes, and ended up buying gum and a few bottles of drinks instead.

By a little past nine, Mu Kun’s breakfast shop finally quieted down.

Zhou Li returned the bowl and paid. “Aunt Mu, business is booming.”

Mu Kun grinned. “All thanks to the logistics-park project workers.”

“The project’s really happening that fast?” Zhou Li asked in surprise.

“Some of the village land acquisition isn’t finished, but the sections that are done are already preparing for demolition.”

Zhou Li nodded, listening carefully—she needed this kind of information to stay in sync with her home world.

“Oh, Lili,” Mu Kun added, “do you still have those pretty crystals? I want to buy a few more for my fish tank.”

Zhou Li: …

Using elemental gems as aquarium decor—what a waste.

But on Earth, they were nothing more than ordinary Ocean Glowstones.

“There are still some,” Zhou Li said, “but I haven’t put them on display. If you want, you can pick some upstairs later.”

“Why not display them? They’d look great, brighten the shop,” Mu Kun said.

Zhou Li gave an awkward laugh. “Too expensive. Almost got roasted online.”

Recently, social media had popularized the term “price assassins”—like ice-cream assassins, fruit assassins, and cup assassins—for overpriced goods.

Influencers would film themselves spotting these items in supermarkets, rant about the ridiculous prices, and post the videos online.

Zhou Li hadn’t cared much—until a few days ago, when someone stopped by to look at her vending machine and grumbled that her “crystal art pieces” priced at 499 yuan each were “crystal assassins.”

The person hadn’t even filmed it, but that was enough to make her wary.

Since only customers from the magical plane ever bought elemental gems—and she didn’t feel like splitting her inventory—she simply took them off the shelves.

Now, the vending machine’s gem options were visible only to customers from the Magic Plane.

“So you’re not selling them anymore?” Mu Kun asked.

“Not publicly,” Zhou Li said. “Only to select customers.”

Mu Kun chuckled. “Then I’ll introduce you to a few collectors.”

At 10:30, Zhou Li called her mother. “Mom, did you arrive?”

“Just got off the train, heading out now,” Zhou Hao said.

Zhou Li heard someone speaking nearby but couldn’t tell if it was to her mother or just a passerby, so she didn’t ask.

Twenty minutes later, a black business van stopped outside the supermarket. Zhou Li saw her long-absent mother step out—alongside a stranger who radiated professional poise.

“Mom!”

Zhou Hao smiled and said to the man, “This is my daughter, Zhou Li.” Then to her daughter: “This is Attorney Liu Chunyi.”

Zhou Li blinked in surprise. Why was her mother returning with a lawyer?

“Ah, the young boss, hello,” Liu Chunyi greeted with a polite smile.

“Hello, Mr. Liu.”

Zhou Hao turned back to him. “Let’s settle the details another day.”

“Of course. I’ll wait for your call,” he said before getting back into the van and driving off.

Zhou Li was still staring after it when her cheek was pinched. “What are you spacing out for?”

Wriggling free, Zhou Li grabbed her mother’s suitcase. “So, you’re back from fieldwork?”

“Not yet,” Zhou Hao sighed. “Starting a large supermarket chain is so much more trouble than I expected. Running a supermarket is really hard.”

Zhou Li couldn’t agree more.

She hadn’t even opened a large one yet, but already knew the exhaustion of managing one—and that’s with a system’s help. Without it, she probably would’ve gone bankrupt.

“So, you’re still going through with it?” Zhou Li asked.

“Of course! When I decide something, I don’t give up halfway!”

Zhou Li wasn’t surprised. “Do we even have that much money?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got some savings—and a few investors.”

“What kind of investors?” Zhou Li asked warily. “They’re legit, right? Not some scam?”

“The provincial state-capital investment company—co-owned by the Finance Bureau and the SASAC.”

Zhou Li: …

Alright then.

She didn’t pry further into the business venture and instead asked about her mother’s stay. “How long are you here this time?”

“Two days. Think of it as giving you a little break.”

Zhou Li tried cautiously, “Mom, since we’re opening a big supermarket, are we still keeping this little one?”

“Of course,” Zhou Hao said. “This is home. We’re not moving just because we open something bigger.”

Before Zhou Li could say more, her mother walked straight into the shop.

Seeing the upgraded interior, she nodded approvingly. “Not bad! Small but complete—our little supermarket already has the makings of a big one.”

She patted Zhou Li’s shoulder. “The future hypermarket will be your responsibility, too.”

Zhou Li’s mouth twitched. “And you?”

“I’ll handle counting the money.”

Zhou Li muttered, “If I get into the Finance Bureau, that’s basically the same thing as managing a supermarket.”

Zhou Hao: …

Just then, Mu Kun appeared, voice booming. “Well, if it isn’t the village beauty back in town!”

Zhou Hao shot back, “I heard your shop closed. Congratulations!”

Mu Kun grinned. “You should congratulate me—thanks to Lili’s advice, my business has never been better!”

Zhou Li looked between them. Please don’t start fighting…

Luckily, both women were prideful but civilized; no hair-pulling today.

Before Zhou Hao could chase her off, Mu Kun mentioned the Ocean Glowstones she wanted to buy.

Zhou Li sighed. “Come upstairs for a bit, Aunt Mu. I’ll grab them from my room.”

“What’s this about?” Zhou Hao asked.

“Crystal ornaments I got from a friend,” Zhou Li said casually.

Her mother didn’t press further.

Upstairs, Zhou Hao unpacked her suitcase and changed into loungewear.

Mu Kun sprawled on the sofa. “No tea for me?”

Zhou Hao pulled a bottle of iced red tea from a box in the guest room and poured half a cup. “Drink it while it’s hot.”

Mu Kun: “…Hot? Really?”

“The cap was just opened—still warm, isn’t it?” Zhou Hao replied, then pulled out more bottles. “Or do you want green tea? Jasmine?”

As the tension between the two rose again, Zhou Li quietly went upstairs, retrieved a dozen colorful fluorites, and brought them down for Mu Kun to choose.

Mu Kun picked a few bright ones, transferred the money, and left—taking the red-tea bottle with her.

“These things are that expensive?” Zhou Hao said in disbelief, more focused on the cost of the “crystal ornaments” than the missing drink.

“They’re rare—ocean-born fluorite,” Zhou Li said quickly, changing the subject. “Anyway, Mom, are you hungry? Should I start lunch?”

“What’re we having?” Zhou Hao asked, already heading into the kitchen.

She opened the fridge, examining everything, asking about the meat’s purchase date and how long each item had been stored.

“All within the last couple of days—nothing spoiled,” Zhou Li said, relieved that she’d memorized all the food items and their timestamps when erasing An Fengxuan’s traces.

“Then let’s braise some beef brisket for lunch,” Zhou Hao decided.

☢️☢️☢️