Author Archives: Thingyan

Ch 121: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Ji Feichen was organizing the courier shelf, with only a few packages left unclaimed; the customers might come by later in the evening.

When he saw dark red water stains emerging on the wall, he paused slightly.

The guests in the café hadn’t noticed that the ghost gate was about to open. Lu Yao handed over the little Tang Kang and Xiong An’an to Jiao Niang, then quickly walked to the courier shelf and told Ji Feichen to leave as well.

The water stains on the wall extended until they formed the shape of a door.

This door was relatively small, unlike the rusty copper door that had appeared on the second floor last time.

In the center of the black iron doorframe, a ghostly head emerged. Its face was blue, its fangs sharp, and it held a rusty, mottled dagger in its mouth. Around its neck was a thick chain, and its bulging eyes rolled twice before fixing on Lu Yao.

The ghost head, dagger still clenched in its teeth, did not move its mouth but let out a hoarse, raspy voice: “Found you.”

Lu Yao stepped forward. “May I ask who you are?”

Eeeeeeek—

A teeth-grating creak sounded as the dark ghostly door opened a crack, and a stack of white envelopes was pushed through the doorway.

Through the gap, Lu Yao could see a tall man with pitch-black pupils staring intently at her.

She glanced at the envelopes but didn’t take them. Instead, she said, “So, we have guests from afar. There are still seats upstairs. May I ask how many of you are here?”

The black iron door opened further, and four ghosts stepped out.

Two men and two women, all dressed in subdued black robes, their eyes dark as ink, and their skin two shades paler than that of ordinary humans.

They quietly emerged from the door, saying nothing.

Behind them, the River of Crossing flowed silently. Just as the ghost gate was about to close, a ghostly official clung to the door and shouted at them, “If you don’t know something, ask. Don’t act mute.”

The four ghosts, who had been striking cool poses, froze. “…”

Lu Yao recognized the official—it was Xie Yi, who had visited the café last time.

She stopped him, skipping his name and simply addressing him as “Brother official.” She quickly turned back to the small shop’s shelves, sweeping a bunch of snacks and drinks into a bag. Handing it to him, she whispered a few questions.

Xie Yi, having a high regard for the shopkeeper’s methods, replied frankly.

Those invitations had stirred some confusion after they were submitted. The higher-ups had argued about it before deciding to send a few officials to investigate.

Hearing this, Lu Yao felt reassured.

Those invitations weren’t particularly special—just written with the demon god’s finger bone, after all.

Time was limited, so Xie Yi only exchanged a few words with Lu Yao before the ghost gate closed again.

With a bag full of earthly snacks in hand, Xie Yi waded through the River of Crossing to find Fan Song.

When the ghostly door and the dark red stains on the wall disappeared without a trace, Lu Yao turned back to attend to the ghost officials.

She led them to the counter and asked the young leopard demon to assign them computers.

The four ghostly officials couldn’t help but look around the shop. It was completely different from what they had imagined.

The liveliness was one thing, but humans, demons, and devils mingling together was entirely unexpected.

Their superiors had described the situation as serious, and while things did seem unusual, the officials couldn’t discern any immediate issues.

Since the main hall was fully occupied, Lu Yao asked Guan Zhong to escort the guests upstairs and teach them how to use the computers.

Upstairs, the four ghosts sat in a private room, watching videos to learn how to operate the machines. Occasionally, they asked Guan Zhong questions about the café.

Guan Zhong, oblivious to their identities, answered everything without reservation.

Initially, the ghostly guests focused on gathering information, but after an hour of learning, they became increasingly absorbed in the wonders of the internet, gradually forgetting their original purpose.

By midnight, one of them finally remembered their mission. Opening the screen, they located the Tales of the Six Realms icon and logged into the game using a beta test account.

Perhaps from staring at the screen for too long, the ghostly guest felt a bit tired. After finishing the beginner’s tutorial, they didn’t feel like moving and idly opened the world channel to watch other players chat.

【Anyone have Water Velvet Grass? I’ll trade ten Gold Blessing Flowers for it.】

【Unbelievable! Why is that demon scout in Trial Cliff so overpowered? Isn’t there a way to counter them?】

【The café’s bias toward demon and devil characters is nothing new. Even their characters are stronger than the cultivators. Whoever wants to play this lousy game can go ahead!】

【That’s not entirely true. Team composition is crucial. As long as it’s not an all-swordsman or all-bladesman team and there’s some cooperation with demon or devil characters, cultivators can grow very powerful too.】

【Are you nuts? Who wants to cooperate with demons or devil?】

【You’re so tough, then why don’t you just stop coming to the café altogether!】

…

The world channel quickly turned into a heated argument.

The ghostly guest, still new to the online world, didn’t understand many of the terms but found the commotion entertaining.

After all, humans, demons, and devils all eventually pass through the ghost gate. In death, everyone is the same.

It’s only while alive that they find so many reasons to quarrel.

At that moment, a player sent an odd message amid the argument.

【Whoa, I just entered the Mirage!】

The veteran players, busy arguing, ignored the comment.

The ghostly guest, curious, pressed on the message, clicked “Reply,” and asked: 【What Mirage?】

The player immediately responded: 【No idea. My level just hit 40, and the screen went black. Next thing I know, I’m in this Mirage. Where did you see me?】

Ghostly guest: 【In the world channel.】

Player: 【Whoa! It’s real!】

Ghostly guest: 【What do you mean?】

Player: 【I’m in the Mirage now. There’s this weird floating interface in front of me. I just tried touching it, and I can send messages to the world channel. I thought no one could actually see them.】

This time, the ghostly guest didn’t respond, but most players in the world channel noticed the chat and started frantically replying to the Mirage player.

【What Mirage?】

【It’s just like the screen, except I’ve become the character I was playing in the game.】

【What about your inventory? Still got your stuff?】

【Not on me, but I can access it through the interface. All the materials and spirit stones from my quests are still there.】

…

【Never heard of this before… How do you enter the Mirage?】

【I don’t know. It just happened when I reached level 40.】

…

The world channel fell silent for about ten seconds before suddenly exploding with messages, scrolling by like a torrent.

【What’s happening?】

【What’s going on?】

【How can a game be connected to a Mirage?】

【Could this be a bug?】

【Where’s the admin? Call the admin!!!】

…

Five minutes later, the café released its second game CG through a full-dome projection.

When an account reaches level 40, the player will be summoned into the game’s Mirage to personally experience the epic world of Tales of the Six Realms.

The café’s players: !!!

A full-immersion cultivation MMORPG!

So it turns out that leveling up, doing quests, and competitive matches over the past few days weren’t the game’s selling points at all—full-immersion cultivation was!

With this announcement, the customers in the café were in an uproar. They abandoned their arguments and spent the entire night grinding quests and farming for level 40.

Don’t ask them why they’re already cultivating daily but still want to experience cultivation and leveling up in a game—it’s just different.

After a few days of gameplay, the guests from the Floating World Continent understood that Tales of the Six Realms wasn’t identical to their own world.

The game’s map designs, quest mechanics, competitive modes, and even the mountains, rivers, and seas on the map were all distinct from the Floating World Continent.

Many minor demons and half demons who couldn’t normally qualify for real-world trial Mirages found that in Tales of the Six Realms, as long as they reached level 40, they could be summoned into the game’s Mirage.

In the eyes of the café patrons, it didn’t feel like they were being summoned into a Mirage; rather, it seemed they were stepping into the boxed world before them, transforming into the pixelated little characters running wild on the screen. The thought alone was amusing.

Since the first player entered the Mirage, around a dozen more followed that same evening.

By the next day, discussions about Tales of the Six Realms among the café patrons surged to a new peak.

Initially, many human cultivators had stopped playing after a few sessions due to the game’s mechanics. However, upon hearing the news that Tales of the Six Realms connected to the Mirage, many returned to grind levels once again.

By the sixth day of the beta test, most players had reached the level threshold for entering the Mirage. Even the ghostly guests who had joined two days late had entered the Mirage by then.

Standing once more before the six black-bronze doors, a female ghost player chose not to enter the “Gate of Samara” but instead picked the less popular “Worldly Splendor.”

She had been dead for a thousand years, long bored of the gloomy Netherworld. Having passed through the ghost gate and become a ghost emissary, reincarnating into the human world was no easy feat. In that case, why not live again in this game?

The heavy black-bronze door slowly opened, letting light pour in.

She squinted as the bustling sounds of the street reached her ears. Stepping through the doorway, the door behind her gently closed.

She found herself on a lively street, the distinct atmosphere of the human world manifesting in sounds and smells that enveloped her in an instant.

The female ghost froze for a moment—it truly felt like the human world, with no trace of being a Mirage.

She pinched herself, and it hurt.

“Freshly steamed buns! Get your hot buns here!”

The street vendor’s shout brought her back to reality, the aroma wafting into her nose. She couldn’t resist swallowing and walked over to order two buns.

The currency in Tales of the Six Realms consisted solely of spirit stones, categorized into low-grade, mid-grade, and high-grade.

Each large bun cost one low-grade spirit stone.

The female ghost purchased two buns, opened her system inventory, and retrieved two low-grade spirit stones from the designated slot to pay the vendor. She turned around, tore open the oil paper, and took a big bite of the bun.

The fluffy yet firm dough was thin, giving way to juicy, tender meat filling in a single bite. It was hot, but she couldn’t stop eating—it was too delicious.

After finishing one bun, she suddenly remembered: Can you even eat food in the Mirage?

In life, she had been a cultivator and visited one or two minor secret realms. Unfortunately, she wasn’t lucky enough to find treasures or encounter Mirages.

A thousand years had passed, and her memories from her previous life had grown blurry. She couldn’t quite determine if this situation was normal or not.

However, as more players entered the game Mirage, they soon discovered it differed significantly from the usual Mirages they had encountered.

Mirages within secret realms were typically pre-designed puzzles, emphasizing tests of character and strength. Everything within such Mirages was illusory, and solving the puzzle to find the answer was the ultimate goal.

In contrast, in the Mirage of Tales of the Six Realms, the street food, roadside inns, and the people inside them felt anything but illusory—everything seemed entirely real.

Moreover, players felt tired from completing tasks, hungry after long hours, and pain when injured.

It didn’t feel like a Mirage at all.

The most intriguing part was that every player had a system interface in the Mirage. Data previously viewable only on computer screens was now presented directly before each player.

How many beasts they had hunted, how many herbs they had gathered, how much ore they had mined, how much experience they had gained, and how much more was needed to level up—all of it was visible on the panel.

What they saw and experienced—if not a Mirage—left them wondering how else to explain it.

After the seven-day beta test ended, the game team spent another three days fixing several bugs, followed by a three-day second round of internal testing by the café’s staff.

A week later, Tale of the Six Realms officially launched at the Internet Café.

During the beta test, the Mirage mode had sparked limited but heated discussions among beta players. Those who hadn’t gotten beta access were eager to try it out, anxiously awaiting the game’s official release.

On launch day, patrons swarmed the café like tadpoles in a summer pond, squeezing through the narrow doorway under the Bodhi tree, afraid they’d miss out on securing a computer.

Registering a new game account, like other platforms, required only ten high-grade spirit stones.

Within half an hour of launch, nearly all of the café’s 100+ computers were occupied by Tales of the Six Realms players.

Players who had participated in the beta test blended in, registering new accounts and immediately starting to grind levels. After all, in this game, the real journey began at level 40.

This time, whether human, demon, or devil, players showed less concern about sticking to their own race or profession during the initial selection. Many began experimenting with other races and roles.

Reaching level 40 and entering the Mirage offered a whole new experience.

The game’s reputation spread quickly among café patrons, in turn boosting the café’s popularity.

Few patrons realized that the Mirage they entered in the game was, in fact, located on the café’s fourth floor.

At launch, Chi Jiumeng also registered an account, grinding her way to level 40 just to experience the Mirage herself. After all, she had participated in designing the Mirage’s framework but hadn’t expected it to be used in this way.

However, when Chi Jiumeng transitioned from the game into the Mirage, she immediately noticed changes the owner had made later.

Many of the traps, dungeons, and secret rooms she had designed had been modified to varying degrees. Feeling conflicted, Chi Jiumeng left the game and went to the counter to find Lu Yao. Translated on Hololo novels.

The staff informed her that the owner was busy building new game dungeons and unavailable to meet.

Could this mean that after level 40 and the Mirage, there would be new trial grounds?

Chi Jiumeng thought of the café’s fifth floor, which she had never visited, and recalled the stack of blueprints she’d once glimpsed in Lu Yao’s hands. One seemed to be labeled “Sky Ladder,” though she hadn’t gotten a clear look at it.

…

At the base of Mount Baixian, disciples of the Hengze Sect were returning from their travels, stepping out of the teleportation array in high spirits.

A junior disciple marveled at the bustling streets, “It’s been a while since I was last here. The town seems much livelier.”

A senior sister nodded, “Indeed, much livelier. I wonder if Junior Brother Jiang’s health has improved.”

Another junior sister added, “We found some snow lotus grass in the secret realm last time and saved a few stalks for him.”

The group returned to Hengze Sect and encountered a young medicine boy from the pill workshop at the entrance.

The medicine boy burst into tears upon seeing them. “Senior brothers and sisters, you’ve finally returned!”

The Hengze disciples, unaware of what had happened, looked at him in confusion.

The medicine boy knelt on the ground, wailing sorrowfully.

“Ever since a few months ago, when Senior Brother Jiang saved a girl being bullied by sparrow demons on the mountain, he has been going up the mountain more and more frequently.

“At first, it wasn’t much different from his usual trips to gather herbs every couple of months. But in the past month, Senior Brother Jiang has been going to the mountain almost daily. Each time he stays for a whole day, doesn’t bring a medicine boy, and comes back without any herbs.

“This time, Senior Brother Jiang has been gone for three days without returning to the sect.

“He must have been bewitched by the little demons on the mountain! His body is so weak—if we don’t go rescue him soon, it might be too late!”

The recently returned disciples of Hengze Sect: “…”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 119: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

The next day, Luo Yao fed the young tankang milk, sprinkled some spirit stones for the spirit beast egg, and then called Zeyuan to go out with her.

Since both were busy with their own affairs, they didn’t get much time together. Zeyuan had been harboring some resentment and hadn’t actively visited the internet café lately, so it had been quite a while since they last met.

Xiong An’an overheard that Luo Yao was taking Zeyuan out and eagerly followed them to the door, but Jiao Niang stopped him at the bar.

Luo Yao took out a teleportation scroll and brought Zeyuan to Zhongdu City.

Zhongdu City was a human settlement with virtually no demon or magical creatures, and even cultivators were rarely seen. Disguised as ordinary people, Luo Yao and Zeyuan strolled through the bustling night market, glowing with lanterns and filled with throngs of people celebrating the Fifteenth Lantern Festival. The streets were lively, mainly filled with couples out for the night.

Luo Yao bought a lotus lantern and handed it to Zeyuan to carry. She also bought two skewers of candied hawthorn and offered one to him.

Zeyuan tried hard to maintain a composed expression and shook his head to refuse. Luo Yao didn’t insist and instead wandered over to a small stall selling trinkets, sifting through the wares with interest.

Zeyuan followed her silently, watching as she perused various small items. At a stall selling embroidered sachets and perfume powders, Luo Yao took a liking to a gold-threaded sachet with a simple and elegant design. She turned to Zeyuan and asked, “Does this look good?”

Zeyuan nodded.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

Zeyuan raised his eyebrows slightly, puzzled.

Luo Yao immediately put it down and pulled him away. “If you don’t like it, forget it. Let’s look for something else.”

Zeyuan froze on the spot, unmoving, staring at her with a strange, searching expression.

Luo Yao tried to tug him along, confused. “What’s wrong?”

In the blink of an eye, a flood of memories and thoughts surged through Zeyuan’s mind. He hesitated briefly before reaching out and tentatively taking her hand. Lowering his gaze for a moment, he then looked up at her, as if waiting for her reaction.

Luo Yao remained calm outwardly, though her heart was stirred. A faint smile played at her lips, and she let him hold her hand without saying anything, allowing him to pull her into the crowd.

Zeyuan’s amber eyes glimmered like liquid gold, his lips curving upward in a slight smile. Gripping her hand firmly, he suddenly pivoted and quickly maneuvered them out of the throng.

Once they reached a secluded corner, he leapt into the air with her, landing atop the tallest building in Zhongdu City.

The noise of the crowd faded, and the sprawling sea of lanterns glittered in the distance. The cool breeze brushed past them, clearing their thoughts and calming their hearts.

Zeyuan truly loved places like this.

After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled out the twin black lotus and held it out to her. “This is for you.”

Luo Yao looked surprised. “You went to the secret realm for this?”

The twin black lotus was said to bloom only once every thousand years and was a near-extinct supreme spiritual plant across the six realms. What’s more, this one was a rare twin-petaled lotus.

Zeyuan didn’t deny it, nor did he try to claim any credit.

Luo Yao accepted the gift. “It’s been a while since you got this. Why are you giving it to me now?”

Zeyuan looked up at her quickly, then averted his gaze. “…”

Luo Yao narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me… you weren’t planning to give it to me initially?”

Flustered, Zeyuan immediately said, “I was just worried you might not like it.”

“I love it,” Luo Yao replied, pulling out her Regulation rod and holding the lotus against it to measure its fit. “You don’t mind if I refine it, do you?”

The idea of refining such a rare treasure on the spot was audacious, but Zeyuan, still basking in the joy of successfully giving her the gift, generously said, “It’s yours now—do as you please.”

Using Fula’s Blessing, Luo Yao refined the twin black lotus into her Revolution rod, merging the two seamlessly. After the process, the lotus shed its black exterior, revealing a golden core that entwined itself around the dark, ink-like body of the ruler. The twin lotus now rested beautifully beneath the double-faced deity engraved on the staff.

With a thought, Luo Yao conjured a miniature version of the Revolution rod in her palm—a pitch-black, shining pendant with golden lotus vines that shimmered like flowing water.

She held it up to Zeyuan and said, “This is the semi-incarnation of my wish-forged tool.”

The pendant was akin to the earrings Zeyuan had given her before—akin to the divine marks gifted by the gods, bearing powers close to their creators.

She wanted to give him something comparable, even though he hadn’t remembered those past events yet.

This pendant, like the semi-incarnation of a god, would stay with him forever.

Zeyuan didn’t reach out to take it; instead, he leaned slightly toward her, turning his face to the side, revealing reddened ears.

Luo Yao paused for a moment, then clasped the pendant in her palm. When she opened her hand again, the pendant now had a loop clasp attached to it.

“All done,” Luo Yao said, releasing the pendant.

Zeyuan had already reverted to his original appearance: silver hair, crimson eyes, and a strand of golden light shimmering faintly under the moonlight near his ear.

Luo Yao had noticed before that he had an ear piercing, perfectly complementing hers on the opposite side. She thought this accessory suited him well, even adding a touch of elegance.

Despite the warmth blooming in his heart, the Demon Sovereign kept his face stoic, as if utterly unmoved.

Shoulder to shoulder, Luo Yao and Zeyuan gazed at the stars, the moon, and the lights in the distance.

Zeyuan’s heart was calm, more serene than it had ever been. The most mundane moments of life, shared with her, made him unwilling to wake up from this peaceful reverie, longing to stay in this bliss forever.

When the night breeze grew cooler against her face, Luo Yao spoke. “It’s late. Will you take me home now?”

Zeyuan came back to himself and, without hesitation, agreed.

…

Meanwhile, the small ginseng demon had been staying at the internet café for a week, helping care for the young tankang and the spirit beast egg. After a conversation, Luo Yao successfully recruited her as a content advisor for the game project.

The next week, when the game team came over for their weekend overtime, they saw the little ginseng doll playing with Xiong An’an. The group of single young men were so overwhelmed by her cuteness that their hearts practically burst with affection, nearly scaring the poor doll to tears.

Luo Yao, who usually didn’t intervene in their activities, made a special trip to the workroom after hearing about this. She reminded them to keep their behavior in check and not frighten the (over-a-thousand-years-old) child.

On the other hand, Xiong An’an received yet another emotional blow.

He couldn’t believe that his cuteness level was being compared to the ginseng doll’s. Wasn’t the giant panda supposed to be a national treasure?

Xiong An’an had secretly watched many live streams from panda sanctuaries and zoos. Humanity’s unconditional love for pandas seemed boundless, so how could he be equated with the ginseng doll?

Xiong An’an couldn’t understand.

Seeing him huddled in a corner like a defeated rice ball, the young men approached him. “What’s wrong, buddy? How about I teach you to code?”

Xiong An’an: “…”

…

The game team came to the internet café for regular weekend overtime, racing against deadlines. Meanwhile, Luo Yao and Chi Jiumeng continued constructing the illusion realm on the café’s fourth floor.

After a month, the game team emerged from the mustard seed realm, utterly drained.

“We finally finished. It wasn’t easy!”

“I need a feast and a soak in the hot springs!”

“Where’s An’an? Only a fluffy panda can heal me!”

“Boss, can I pet the little tankang before we leave? Just once?”

The tankang cub had spent over a month at the internet café. The shop staff and collaborators all knew of its presence and wanted to bask in the good fortune of the auspicious beast.

Luo Yao had tried numerous methods to care for the little tankang. It had gained some weight, but it was still far from healthy, and its hind legs remained weak.

Nonetheless, Jin Huaichen and the ginseng doll were astonished that the tankang had survived this long. Jin Huaichen, in particular, frequently visited to confirm the tankang’s status.

Inspired, Jin Huaichen had been combining theories of scientific feeding with traditional knowledge to care for young beasts back at Beast Mountain.

Luo Yao arranged for Xiao Ji to let the game team rest. The final two weeks of work had been intense, with the team working overtime all weekend. They were understandably exhausted.

…

After a month of rigorous preparation, the new wuxia MMORPG Tales of the Six Realms—a collaboration between the internet café and Shi Yan’s team—was finally complete.

Another week of internal testing by the internet café staff followed. After fixing several bugs, Tales of the Six Realms was officially ready for a closed beta test.

The commercial district had some procedural steps to finalize, so the game couldn’t launch immediately. Ji Zhixin was overseeing the process, and internal testing would have to wait until all procedures were completed.

There wasn’t much urgency on that front. Luo Yao instructed the game team to prepare 300 beta test accounts to distribute within the Floating World Continent, inviting café patrons to participate in a week-long beta test starting three days later.

The patrons of the Interdimensional Internet Café, hearing about the concept of a “game beta test” for the first time, became highly competitive when they learned there were only 300 slots. They even began bribing the café staff with snacks to secure a beta test spot.

At first, Cheng Ye and Xiao Zhong thought their boss was being overly ambitious—after all, there was only one internet café in the Floating World Continent. Even with the recent expansion, there weren’t more than 100 terminals available, so it seemed impossible for all 300 accounts to be used simultaneously.

But as soon as the beta announcement was made, nearly all the slots were claimed within a single day—290 out of the 300 available accounts were already reserved.

Luo Yao had kept 10 spots reserved, planning to use some special means to send them to the Underworld.

…

The Underworld, Crossing River.

Xie Yi and Fan Song had been punished with 100 years of gate duty for their negligence during the last Ghost Gate opening.

When no one was crossing, the two often slacked off, sitting by the river and daydreaming.

They couldn’t help but think about that night when the Ghost Gate had opened and they stumbled upon the internet café in the human realm.

Before, they hadn’t known such a place existed. Now, knowing it was real, they couldn’t stop longing for it.

If they weren’t being punished, they could have occasionally slipped into the human realm during soul-collecting rounds and enjoyed the café.

Instead, they were stuck guarding the gate for 100 years. By the time they could return to the human realm, that little shopkeeper might have already crossed the Naihe Bridge several times.

Fan Song lay bored on the ground, arms folded behind his head, as the dark red river water flowed quietly by his feet. Translated on Hololo novels. The sky was dim and lifeless, offering no entertainment.

Xie Yi idly chewed on a red spider lily stem and tossed a random bone into the river.

As ripples spread, a cluster of white envelopes drifted downstream, floating on the water.

Xie Yi found it odd and reached out to grab one, then suddenly smacked Fan Song’s knee hard.

Fan Song sat up abruptly. “What are you doing?”

Xie Yi shoved the envelope at him, and Fan Song was equally startled.

It was an invitation letter from the Interdimensional Internet Café.

The contents aside, how could such an object have traveled from the human realm into the Crossing River?

The two immediately inspected the Ghost Gate but found no signs of it having been opened.

Yet these ten invitations had inexplicably traveled undetected from the human realm to the river.

Though both Xie Yi and Fan Song were eager to return to the café, they wouldn’t shirk their duties for it.

The arrival of these ten invitations was as alarming to them as the Ghost Gate being forcibly breached—perhaps even more so due to its bizarre nature.

Without delay, they delivered the ten envelopes to their superior.

…

Two days later, the Interdimensional Internet Café closed for a day of maintenance and upgrades.

Another day passed, and at precisely 5 a.m., the café reopened for business.

The beta test for Tales of the Six Realms (Cultivation Version) had officially begun.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 118: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Chi Jiumeng stepped out from behind Cheng Ye and stood at the doorway. “Boss.”

Lu Yao suddenly remembered she had contacted Chi Jiumeng before coming downstairs.

That was quick. Lu Yao retracted her hand and stood up. “Come in and have a seat. Let’s talk.”

It was Chi Jiumeng’s first time in the internet café’s lounge, and the room’s décor, identical to the images she had seen online, intrigued her.

Recently, she had been browsing plenty of interior design pictures of inns and hotels online, intending to create two modern-style guest rooms in her own inn.

The café had already become quite famous among the demon clans, and many of her customers often talked about it. Creating “internet café-themed” rooms would easily attract curious guests.

Chi Jiumeng sat on the sofa, her gaze fixating on the two cat beds in the corner.

Lu Yao poured her some tea and brought over a plate of snacks.

Chi Jiumeng snapped out of her daze. “You’ve been to Dragon Prison City?”

Lu Yao: “You can tell?”

Chi Jiumeng: “A tankang, this auspicious beast, is something only Beast Taming Sect would rear. But this one is very weak. It likely won’t survive long.”

Lu Yao: “It’s fine. It will live.”

Chi Jiumeng tilted her head, puzzled. “What makes you so sure? Just because you went from an ordinary mortal to stepping into the immortal realm in three days, even breaking through to the Golden Core stage?”

During the recent minor season, the story of the real and fake café owner had already spread widely among demons and devils.

The most talked-about part was how the owner, who had no cultivation base, managed to break free from a magical artifact and emerged already at the Golden Core stage.

Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, and Divine Transformation…

For most people, the first two stages alone could take decades, sometimes even longer for those with average talent. Yet, the café owner had done it in three days.

What a terrifying feat.

Lu Yao already possessed techniques and secrets that baffled many, and now, her rapid progress struck awe into everyone.

From the moment Chi Jiumeng saw Lu Yao, she realized the rumors were true—Lu Yao had indeed reached the Golden Core stage.

But the tankang situation? Chi Jiumeng still felt Lu Yao was being overconfident. If even Beast Taming Sect couldn’t save it, what could she possibly do?

Lu Yao didn’t seem to notice the sharpness in Chi Jiumeng’s words and replied calmly, “Nothing special—just that I want it to live.”

Such arrogance.

For the first time, Chi Jiumeng felt like she was truly meeting the café owner.

Lu Yao offered no further explanation. Translated on Hololo novels. She took out a golden seed from her portable space and began discussing why she had called Chi Jiumeng over. “This is a void seed. I want to create a trial ground within it.”

Chi Jiumeng stared at the shimmering Mustard seed in disbelief, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

Void seed were incredibly rare.

Chi Jiumeng had only seen them twice before, both times in trial grounds left behind by powerful ascended cultivators in secret realms.

Unable to resist, she picked up the seed and examined it closely. “Where did you obtain such a treasure?”

This was an unused seed.

Among the rewards the system had provided, Lu Yao valued this void seed and the segment of World Tree the most.

With these two items, all conditions for hosting the celestial-demon conference would be met.

Lu Yao didn’t mention the World Tree and simply said, “That’s not important. If you help me with this, all past debts will be cleared.”

This offer was much lower than Chi Jiumeng had anticipated. Helping with this would erase her debt, and constructing a trial in the void seed was hardly an unreasonable task. She had no reason to refuse.

The two reached an agreement and signed a contract.

Lu Yao then took Chi Jiumeng upstairs to inspect the site, where they encountered the game development team.

A group of young men stood by the third-floor railing, peering down below.

Xiong An’an was with them, his cheeks puffed out, clearly having been spoiled with plenty of snacks.

They seemed a bit uneasy when they saw Lu Yao, as if caught slacking off.

Lu Yao didn’t question them. As she passed by, she reached out to pet the little bear demon.

Xiong An’an, still sulking from not being praised earlier, backed away to avoid her hand.

Lu Yao didn’t force it, letting it slide as she led Chi Jiumeng upstairs.

Xiong An’an watched her retreating figure and let out a couple of low hums.

At that moment, a colleague who had gone to the restroom returned, and the group of young men coaxed Xiong An’an back into the “overtime room.”

Since there was no restroom in the Mustard seed realm, one team member who stepped out for a bathroom break the first time was gone for an entire day due to the time discrepancy. When they returned and explained it had only been a few minutes for them, the others didn’t believe it.

After a few tests, everyone confirmed the drastic difference in time flow between inside and outside the space. A quick bathroom trip could stretch to several days outside if something like an upset stomach occurred.

The game team found this frustrating and came up with a small system—setting a group schedule for breaks. Everyone would step out together and come back simultaneously, giving those not needing the restroom a chance to stretch their legs.

It honestly felt a bit like high school break times, with the whole group heading to the restroom together. They never expected to run into the boss and thought they’d be reprimanded. The young developers returned to the workspace still chatting about it.

Shi Yan didn’t join the break. His darkened face looked up at them. “You went to the restroom for three days. Enough chit-chat, get back to work!”

One of the developers shoved Xiong An’an into Shi Yan’s arms. “Boss, you’re overworking yourself. Hug the bear; it’s relaxing.”

Shi Yan actually hugged Xiong An’an and warned them, “Don’t fool around just because we have extra time. Finish this phase early so we can hit the hot springs next door and have a drink tonight.” After all, someone else was driving.

Hot springs!

Wait, is that part of the benefits?

Shi Yan added, “Oh, and the cinema next door plays holographic movies.”

Holograms!!!

What on earth?!

The team finally stopped slacking off and focused. By afternoon, they had finished their tasks and planned a proper schedule—seafood at the pet café, a movie, and hot springs in the evening.

Weekend overtime? ×
A free vacation with some work on the side? √

On the fourth floor of the café, at the center of the space, stood a pitch-black stone platform.

Lu Yao placed the void seed on it. The golden, oval-shaped seed floated about a fist’s distance above the platform, never making contact.

Lu Yao took out her black staff and gently tapped it. Thin mist rose around them, gradually enveloping the fourth and fifth floors.

Chi Jiumeng looked around, her gaze uncontrollably drawn to the black staff in Lu Yao’s hand.

The eerie and foreboding aura emanating from it didn’t resemble anything a Golden Core cultivator should be able to wield.

Noticing Chi Jiumeng’s look, Lu Yao raised the staff slightly. “This is my natal weapon, the Regulation Rod.”

Chi Jiumeng shook her head instinctively. “It looks like a weapon, but it feels strange.”

Lu Yao smiled without answering.

What she held wasn’t truly a weapon.

During her time in the Mirror of Serenity, Lu Yao had read tens of thousands of texts, gaining insight into numerous unconventional techniques. This expanded her understanding and gave her the imagination to conceptualize unique powers.

To Lu Yao, traditional cultivation was inefficient and time-consuming. After completing her tasks in this world, she would have to relearn new power systems in the next, which was illogical and would slow her progress.

The Dream Fulfillment System had once revealed that she could accumulate “willpower” through her tasks. Willpower was the force that allowed the system to help her fulfill her dreams. The more willpower she amassed, the stronger she would become.

This realization struck her while reading in the Mirror. She attempted to use willpower as a foundation, combining it with the cultivation path to discover her unique power system.

Lu Yao unified all her power under the concept of willpower—illusions, magic, psychic abilities, and immortal arts all became skills she could activate through willpower. Thus, the Regulation Rod was born.

The shaft of the rod tapered from a thick top to a thinner bottom, with a protrusion at the handle that seemed to bear carvings of a two-faced deity. The entire rod was pitch black, shrouded in dark mist, obscuring any clear details.

Chi Jiumeng found the rod increasingly unsettling the longer she looked at it. Prolonged observation stirred an inexplicable urge to bow to the ground. After a few glances, she had to look away and couldn’t help but remark, “With a weapon like this, why would you need me?”

Lu Yao replied, “The shop keeps me busy, and this illusion realm is massive. I can’t manage it all by myself.”

With a flick of the short rod, a stack of blueprints materialized out of thin air before Chi Jiumeng.

Chi Jiumeng gasped in astonishment. “This is supposed to be one illusion realm?” She inwardly cursed, Are you planning to recreate the six realms?!

Lu Yao’s intention was clear: she wasn’t just creating a simple online game. She wanted to bring the game’s world into her Void Space.

The result would be a special mode available exclusively at the Internet Café—an immersive, holographic cultivation mode.

Not only guests from the floating world but also staff and VIPs from the shopping street would be able to create accounts and experience it.

Lu Yao and Chi Jiumeng worked for hours but only managed to construct a preliminary framework, progressing far slower than anticipated. Chi Jiumeng was so exhausted that she had to consume several pills to recover.

While Chi Jiumeng meditated to regain her energy, Lu Yao leaned close and whispered, “Actually, I have another Void Space that can suspend time. A year inside equals just a day outside.”

Chi Jiumeng snapped her eyes open. “…”

How could she have misjudged Lu Yao so badly? This wasn’t some naive, gullible maiden; she was sharper than any shrewd merchant!

By the time Lu Yao and Chi Jiumeng descended from the fourth floor, it was already 5 p.m.

The game team had long since wrapped up their overtime. They had been enthusiastically exploring the shopping street under Shi Yan’s lead, making sure not to miss even the blind box shop or the nail salon. By now, they were soaking in the hot springs at the inn.

Lu Yao scanned the main hall but didn’t spot the familiar figure she was looking for. Assuming he hadn’t arrived, she pushed open the door to the lounge and found Zeyuan sitting on the sofa.

Xiong An’an and the little piglet were sprawled on his lap, cooing and fawning over him.

Lu Yao, drained and fatigued from the day’s efforts, couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “When did you get here?”

Zeyuan replied, “Just now.”

Xiong An’an, who had been sulking earlier and was now feeling bashful after being scolded by Jiao Niang in the afternoon, immediately spoke up, “Uncle Zeyuan’s been here a long time, waiting for you all afternoon.”

Uncle Zeyuan…

Zeyuan: “…”

Lu Yao struggled to stifle her laughter and corrected him, “It’s Brother Zeyuan.”

Xiong An’an protested, “Even if he’s thousands of years older than me, he’s still a brother?”

Lu Yao nodded resolutely. “Even tens of thousands of years older, he’s still a brother.”

Zeyuan covered his face. “…Fine.”

But then, a thought struck him—Lu Yao herself was only in her twenties…

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 117: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

“An old man?”

Lu Yao was puzzled.

The little bear demon also shook his head, saying he didn’t recognize him.

Seeing that she couldn’t get any useful information, Lu Yao followed the bear spirit downstairs.

The Internet café was bustling in the morning, with demons, devils, and humans mingling together. At first glance, the scene appeared slightly strange and a bit crowded.

Lu Yao made a mental note that the main hall and second floor also needed expansion. In two months, when the Celestial and Demonic Conference took place, it would give the venue a more dignified look.

Amid the noisy chatter of the café, Lu Yao descended the stairs, locking eyes with a silver-haired elder standing by the entrance.

The old man wore a gray-green Daoist robe and held a whisk. His hair and beard were white, but his face was refined, exuding an otherworldly aura of kindness and grace.

Lu Yao hesitated slightly, her eyes sweeping across the café. Several rows of seats were occupied by cultivators gaming, binge-watching dramas, enjoying variety shows, exploring anime, or listening to music—they had seamlessly integrated into the Internet café environment.

She noticed a familiar figure crouched in the corner by the wall, wearing headphones and surrounded by snacks and drinks. His screen displayed a live stream of a giant panda sanctuary.

It was Jin Huaichen.

This guy had come to the café for the first time a few days ago and somehow learned about live streaming. After registering an account, he began exclusively following zoo live streams and watching wildlife documentaries when there weren’t any live streams available. He could sit there for an entire day each visit.

Lu Yao tilted her head slightly, meeting the old man’s gaze again. Could he be here to find some delinquent disciple or grandchild?

The elder seemed to notice her hesitation and smiled, beckoning her over.

Lu Yao walked to the entrance. “Sir, is there something you need?”

The elder replied, “Young lady, this old man once owned a trial artifact called the Mirror of Serenity. It was lost hundreds of years ago. A few days ago, I sensed its power being used in this mountain. Have you seen it?”

Holy…!

This old man’s a celestial?!

In the Floating World Continent, there were several kinds of celestials: true celestials born with innate celestial roots and spirits; wandering celestials who achieved enlightenment and sanctified their physical forms through cultivation; and humans, demons, or devils who could all ascend to become celestials.

The Celestial Race resided in the heavenly realm, and aside from the path of ascension, they rarely interacted with other realms.

When Lu Yao read about them in the Mirror of Serenity, she often sensed their aloof and unapproachable nature through fragments of text.

Yet, here she was, encountering one so easily.

Though her thoughts raced, Lu Yao maintained her usual calm demeanor. She retrieved the broken fragments of the Mirror of Serenity from her storage pouch and presented them. “I didn’t realize it was the senior’s artifact. It was accidentally broken the other day.”

The old man picked up the fragments and examined them. “Impressive. For a mere mortal to break my Mirror of Serenity—and shatter it this thoroughly.”

The little bear demon, standing behind Lu Yao with his paws on her legs, had been slightly nervous at first. But hearing what sounded like praise, he perked up and began tugging at her pants, hoping for some acknowledgment.

The naive little guy had no idea the elder was here to hold them accountable and only wanted to be praised.

Lu Yao nudged him away with her foot and lowered her head, speaking humbly, “I didn’t know it was the senior’s artifact. At the time, I was trapped inside and had no choice but to act. Please forgive me.”

The elder waved his whisk, collecting the remaining fragments of the Mirror of Serenity from Lu Yao’s hand. “No matter. Breaking it is a testament to your skill. One more thing—do you know where the person who trapped you inside the Mirror of Serenity is now?”

“…”

How should she explain this?

From what Lu Yao understood, the relationship between the Celestial and Demonic Races was delicate.

Well, actually, it was outright hostile.

Otherwise, why would the grand ancient conference of the six realms only bear the name “Celestial-Demon Conference”?

Among the six realms, the only race capable of rivaling the Celestials in power was the devils.

Devils were born of the heart, emotions, and desires.

As long as living beings existed in the world, devils were eternal, neither dying nor fading.

The Celestials couldn’t exterminate the devils, so they tried to confine them to the Demonic Realm, but even that failed.

For the past five centuries, the devils had stayed within the Demonic Realm, primarily because Zeyuan, for reasons unknown, had suppressed the other devils and forcibly closed the gates between realms.

The news of the celestial now being in the Demonic Realm was sensitive.

Lu Yao thought for a moment and decided to keep it to herself.

The old man squinted at her for a moment but didn’t press further. He turned to leave, seemingly uninterested in the diverse crowd of humans, demons, and devils in the café.

Lu Yao’s mind blanked for a second, but then she called out to him. She pulled out a handful of teleportation scrolls and discount coupons from her pocket. “If you have time, please come by and enjoy our store.”

It didn’t matter if they were Celestials, Demons, or Devils —they were all potential customers once they came in.

Lingxiao Celestial lowered his head, glanced at the scrolls and slips in his hand, then raised his eyes to look at Lu Yao, seemingly at a loss for words.

Still, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stuffed the random items into his sleeve, waved his whisk, and left.

Lu Yao stood at the entrance, lost in thought.

She had instinctively sided with Zeyuan just now.

The celestial’s artifact belonged to someone else; the celestial had once met Zeyuan a thousand years ago by the Jade Pool; Zeyuan had mysteriously lost his memory at some point; five hundred years ago, Zeyuan ordered the devils to close the gates between realms, and the devils had not set foot in the human world since…

Lu Yao frowned as she returned to the break room and took out her transmission jade talisman.

…

Zeyuan sat on the roof ridge of the grand hall of Ninefold Demonic Hall, idly twirling a jet-black twin-petaled demonic lotus in his fingers.

Days ago, he had ventured into three secret realms in succession just to find this demonic lotus, intending to present it to Lu Yao as a gift for their engagement.

Devils were inherently driven by desire, striving to claim everything they could.

Zeyuan was no exception.

But he always felt that something—something that should have been by his side—was missing. It made him lose interest in everything else.

To him, that missing piece was more important than anything in the world.

He had searched across the six realms for eight centuries and finally found it.

The day he first met Lu Yao, he had an overwhelming urge to take her away and hide her somewhere.

But when he saw her starlit smile, he suppressed that impulse, striving to appear composed and gentlemanly.

It was as if he instinctively knew what she liked.

One day, she told him, “Of all the realms, I like you the most.”

That night, he spent hours sitting on the roof, cold wind blowing past, as fireworks exploded in his mind.

Later, she said she wanted a Demon Lord.

He thought it was a hint, so he ordered preparations for a grand wedding and ventured into secret realms repeatedly to gather treasures worthy of her.

But when he emerged, eager to see her, he found an imposter with her face at the café.

In that moment of fury, he also felt an eerie calm, holding back just enough not to obliterate the little celestial maiden’s soul on the spot.

When Lu Yao broke free from the artifact, the crowd immediately surrounded her.

He was pushed aside and could only watch as she calmly comforted the fragile humans with a gentle smile.

He was a devil—the strongest and most fearless of them all.

Unlike those fragile humans, he didn’t need comfort.

He turned and ordered Xuanfeng to take the deceitful celestial maiden back to the Demonic Realm.

Everyone assumed Yu Yao was a Demon, but he saw through her immediately. She was a natural-born celestial spirit, yet somehow a drop of dark obsession had tainted her pure soul.

The celestial maiden had shown him Lu Yao’s memories.

Lu Yao had many secrets.

Her desire for a “Demon Prince” stemmed from some strange task, not the sentiment he had imagined.

But granting her wish was no challenge for him.

After leaving the dark prison, he immediately appointed Mo Bao as the Demon Prince. Translated on hololonovels.

As expected, Lu Yao was delighted.

Now, with the wedding preparations and betrothal gifts ready, he was still deliberating on how to present the twin-petaled demonic lotus.

She seemed so busy lately.

To her, he didn’t seem to matter much.

The transmission jade talisman in his hand suddenly warmed. Zeyuan snapped out of his thoughts and pulled it out.

Lu Yao’s voice came through: “Zeyuan, Zeyuan.”

Zeyuan lowered his gaze, his fingertips brushing against the lotus stem. “I’m here.”

Lu Yao: “Someone came to the café today looking for the celestial maiden. I didn’t say she was in the Demonic Realm, but there might be more to this. Could you investigate?”

Zeyuan: “Mm.”

Lu Yao: “What’s wrong? Not in a good mood?”

Zeyuan’s fingers trembled slightly. “No.”

Lu Yao: “You haven’t been coming to the café much lately. Busy?”

Zeyuan: “…No.”

Lu Yao: “…Then come by today.”

Zeyuan: “Is there something you need?”

Lu Yao: “You’ll find out when you come.”

Zeyuan: “…”

Lu Yao put down the transmission jade talisman and pulled a few high-grade spirit stones from her portable space, scattering them into the green pet bed.

That little egg hadn’t even hatched yet, but it already had the appetite of a gold-devouring beast, demanding spirit stones daily.

At first, Lu Yao had no experience and would casually toss some stones in whenever she passed by.

One day, she accidentally overfed it, and the egg became “drunk,” rolling around the room and causing chaos, nearly shattering itself.

Now, she strictly limited the feeding to no more than 25 high-grade spirit stones a day.

The black egg had grown significantly larger, and its shell had gained a sheen, though its surface had also become even darker.

The little ginseng demon found this odd as well. Spirit beast eggs that turned this completely black were a rarity.

Meanwhile, the baby tankang lay peacefully in its soft bed. Upon seeing Lu Yao, it let out soft whimpers, acting spoiled.

Its condition hadn’t improved much, but it hadn’t worsened either. Ever since it arrived at the café, it had remained stable.

Lu Yao mixed some goat milk and fed it.

The baby tankang drank its fill and promptly went back to sleep, looking content.

Lu Yao gently patted the little piglet, noticing it might have gained a little weight.

At that moment, Cheng Ye knocked on the door and entered. “Boss, someone’s here to see you.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 116: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Lu Yao curiously inspected the stone, which resembled an ostrich egg with its pitch-black surface. “What is this?”

The little ginseng demon, a hint of mystery in her expression, tiptoed and motioned for Lu Yao to come closer.

Lu Yao bent down, and the ginseng demon whispered in her ear, “It’s an egg. I think there’s a very powerful spirit beast inside.”

!!!

Lu Yao suddenly felt uneasy and lowered her voice. “Where did you get this?”

The ginseng demon replied, “I picked it up on the way.”

At least it wasn’t stolen from the Beast Mountain.

Still feeling unsure, Lu Yao pressed for more details. The doll-like ginseng demon pursed her lips, and tears welled up in her big eyes. “You don’t like my gift, do you?”

Lu Yao quickly reassured her, “No, I really like it. I’m just worried this egg might belong to someone.”

The ginseng demon shook her head. “It doesn’t. This is an abandoned spirit beast egg. I lived on the Beast Mountain for hundreds of years. Just by the color of the shell, I can tell its condition. It’s been discarded for a long time, but it desperately wants to survive and has been absorbing spiritual energy. If you take care of it, it will grow into a very strong spirit beast.”

Spirit beasts were incredibly expensive, and the older their bloodline and the stronger their abilities, the higher their price. However, spirit beasts were notoriously fragile in their youth and hard to raise.

This egg was different. It had an extraordinary will to live, fighting with all its might to survive.

Moved by the little ginseng demon’s sincerity, Lu Yao bent down to pick up the egg. “Thank you. But I don’t know how to incubate an egg. Can you help me?”

The ginseng demon’s eyes sparkled as she eagerly followed Lu Yao. “Of course!”

Having lived on the Beast Mountain for centuries and being able to communicate effortlessly with spirit beasts, she probably knew more than most disciples of the Beast Sect.

Lu Yao led the ginseng demon to the lounge.

The little Tangkang lay in a pink cat bed, letting out soft whimpers.

Lu Yao pulled a brand-new green cat bed out of her portable storage, placed it next to the Tangkang, and gently set the black egg into it.

The pink, lame Tangkang and the abandoned, unidentified spirit beast egg became neighbors.

The ginseng demon immediately walked over, plucking a small piece of her root and stuffing it into the Tangkang’s mouth. “I looked for it before leaving the Beast Mountain. I thought I’d never see it again. I can’t believe you brought it here.”

She had seen many spirit beast cubs like the Tangkang on the Beast Mountain and often fed them with her roots, though it rarely made a difference.

Before coming to the Baixian Mountain, she hadn’t been able to find the little Tangkang and had assumed it had quietly disappeared in some unknown corner.

Now, seeing it here, she couldn’t hold back her tears. They streamed down her face in large drops.

Lu Yao turned around to find the doll-like ginseng demon crying her heart out, completely distraught. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

The ginseng demon leaned against Lu Yao’s shoulder, sobbing. “I just didn’t expect to see it again.”

Lu Yao sat on the ground, opened her arms, and hugged the little ginseng demon, gently patting her back. “Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

The ginseng demon sniffled, “But… it… it won’t live much longer.”

The reunion was merely a prelude to another farewell.

Ginseng grew slowly, and though she had cultivated for a thousand years, she still had the appearance of a young girl.

She had lived on the Beast Mountain for centuries, always accompanied by the naive, endearing spirit beast cubs, but she could never outlast them.

Over the years, grown spirit beasts would eventually leave, only to be replaced by a new batch of younglings. Many who didn’t survive now lay buried in the Beast Mountain, countless in number.

And yet, she remained unchanged, as though untouched by the passage of time.

Though she understood that life and death were natural, every encounter with it still brought her to tears.

Lu Yao said firmly, “The little Tangkang won’t die. I’ll make sure it survives.”

The little ginseng demon took Lu Yao’s words as mere comfort and nuzzled her neck with teary eyes.

She wasn’t wrong about Lu Yao—this human’s heart and soul radiated a warm, gentle golden glow.

…

A week later, on a Saturday morning, Shi Yan arrived at the shopping street with a portion of the Time Traveler development team. Given that their game also needed ongoing maintenance, they left some staff behind at the office.

Shi Yan brought along five people, joining shopping street’s team of Liu Yixi, Mei Xue, Cheng Ye, and the occasional help from Ji Qingyan, making a total of nine.

For a fledgling game project, this was a decent team size.

Lu Yao had already coordinated with Shi Yan and the team at Office Two. They wouldn’t stay in the mustard seed realm for a full year all at once. Instead, they would tackle development in short sprints—about a month inside, which equated to just one or two hours outside.

During these work sprints, all meals for the team would be covered by shopping street.

After signing confidentiality agreements, the developers, like the other shopping street staff, gained access to the internal network system and weren’t charged VIP fees.

Shi Yan had come to the shopping street grumbling, but when he returned to the company on Monday to announce that they would be working on-site and under close scrutiny, the entire office erupted in groans of despair.

Shi Yan didn’t waste time sugarcoating things or pshopping street. He simply said, “The overtime pay is generous, and there are some perks.”

Overtime pay? Well, that was fine.

Perks?

The employees, seasoned adults, dismissed the so-called perks as empty promises.

On Monday morning, Shi Yan specifically told his team to skip breakfast and instead eat at the client’s location for free.

The game team, expecting a regular cafeteria experience, didn’t have high hopes. Nevertheless, they showed up punctually at the office.

When they met up with Shi Yan, he didn’t drive them himself but mentioned that the client’s car would pick them up.

Everyone assumed it would be a small van, given there were only five of them. A bigger car might be better for comfort and naps.

At just before 8 a.m., a brand-new extended Lincoln limousine pulled up and stopped near Shi Yan.

The team was dumbfounded. Surely, this couldn’t be their ride?

The driver was Ji Zhixin, who had taken on the morning task of delivering goods to the Internet café by 7 a.m. After finishing his deliveries, he restocked at the blind box store and spent the rest of the day leisurely at shopping street, offering to help out where needed.

Today, he had volunteered to pick up the development team and had even rented a spacious vehicle in advance.

Shi Yan stomped his foot, cursed, “Show-off,” and walked toward the car. After a few steps, he turned back to see his stunned team still standing there. “What are you waiting for? Get in!”

The four developers exchanged looks before muttering, “Oh…” and climbing in.

Shi Yan’s company was located a bit farther out compared to Shen Pingjin’s office, so the ride to shopping street took over an hour. During the trip, the developers sat in silence, clearly overwhelmed by the situation.

When they finally arrived, they were once again left speechless.

The disparity was shocking—the opulent car versus the remote, rundown location. The emotional whiplash was as intense as a rollercoaster ride.

Shi Yan noticed his team’s dazed expressions and couldn’t help but wonder, Was I this dumbfounded when I first came here?

Ji Zhixin stepped out of the car and said calmly, “Shi Yan, take them for breakfast first. After that, head to the third floor of the Internet café to meet the boss.”

Shi Yan froze.

“Shi Yan…”

The way Ji Zhixin casually called him “Shi Yan” made Shi Yan’s skin crawl.

Shi Yan recalled discussing with Shen Pingjin during their previous trip that while many of Lu Yao’s employees seemed ordinary, several were anything but. This seemingly average driver, who had just called him “Shi Yan” so nonchalantly, appeared to have some connection to the Ji clan of Tianji.

The Ji clan of Tianji, while reclusive and isolated, remains a formidable entity. However, in the past year or two, they’ve become uncharacteristically low-profile.

The game team members noticed the signs along the street, realizing there were only two food establishments.

One asked, “Boss, are we eating noodles for breakfast?”

Another chimed in, “How about checking out the snack shop?”

Shi Yan waved decisively, “Let’s go! I’ll treat you to deluxe seafood noodles, fresh sashimi, and unlimited sea urchin.”

The team followed behind, unsure if he was being serious or sarcastic.

At the pet cafe, they were greeted by a plump, snow-white seal who handed each of them a wristband and welcomed them inside.

The sight of the round, fluffy seal left the team dumbstruck, as though they were mermaids bewitched by a siren. Words escaped them.

As they stepped into the undersea-themed shop, they hadn’t yet processed the surreal experience when massive bowls of noodles, heaped with prawns, scallops, and fresh abalone, were brought out. The sashimi glistened invitingly, and mountains of sea urchin covered the table. The overwhelming freshness of the dishes left them in a daze.

As they slurped noodles, the memory of Shi Yan mentioning perks during the meeting floated to the surface of their minds.

“If every overtime shift comes with a meal like this,” one mused, “it’s totally worth it.”

During the meal, Shi Yan briefly explained the peculiarities of shopping street.

The idea of being under the sea, surrounded by seals that could understand human speech, was too extraordinary to deny, though their minds struggled to keep up.

By the time they waddled out of the pet cafe, holding their full bellies and leaning against the walls for support, they felt even more sluggish.

When they arrived at the Internet café and encountered the demonic and cultivator patrons, their reactions were muted, as if their capacity for surprise had been drained.

It wasn’t until they stepped into the third floor of the Internet café and entered Lu Yao’s Mustard Seed Realm that their emotions erupted. Translated on hololonovels.

Lu Yao had recently reorganized the Mustard Seed Realm. The once-barren stone chamber now featured rows of stone cubicles equipped with workstations, internet access, and all the necessities for day-to-day life.

Meals could be ordered via a small plugin on their computers, and there were ample supplies of drinking water, snacks, and fresh fruits. In special circumstances, energy-restoring pills and magical potions were also available.

However, Lu Yao firmly refused to set up bathrooms inside the Mustard Seed Realm. For such needs, they had to step outside.

After introducing the setup to Shi Yan, the team gradually came to terms with their surroundings.

While they remained skeptical about the so-called Mustard Seed Realm, the provided conditions were undeniably excellent. The environment was accommodating, food and supplies were included, and they weren’t working for free.

Once the game team began their work, Lu Yao left the Mustard Seed Realm.

To facilitate their access, she had created a doorway within the space. By saying a specific password, the team could enter and exit freely.

After leaving the space, Lu Yao climbed the stairs to the fourth floor.

The fourth and fifth floors would serve as new areas. Once the game team finished their current sprint, she would begin setting up the fourth floor.

For this, Lu Yao used her communication talisman to contact Chi Jiumeng.

Previously, Chi Jiumeng had offered Lu Yao a Star Soulfire as an apology to Li Shijun, symbolizing a favor owed. This time, Lu Yao intended to cash it in.

Meanwhile, the little bear demon, huffing and puffing, climbed up the stairs. After failing to find Lu Yao on the third floor, he startled the game team.

Shi Yan sighed, “That’s a panda demon named Xiong An’an. Just give him some snacks, and you can pet him—he’s very gentle.”

The game team stared blankly.

“Is this really a question of gentleness?”

Xiong An’an exited the Mustard Seed realm and found Lu Yao on the fourth floor. “There’s an old man at the entrance insisting on meeting you,” he said.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 115: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Shi Yan stared at his phone screen for a long moment, feeling the app was suspicious and didn’t dare to open it.

When Lu Yao messaged him to check, he realized the app had been sent directly from her end.

Shocked by such an invasive tracking feature, he immediately grabbed his personal phone and called Shen Pingjin. This client was becoming too unpredictable.

He was starting to feel genuinely uneasy.

The next day, a Sunday, Shen Pingjin accompanied Shi Yan to meet Lu Yao. Before heading to the shopping street, they logged into the internal network app for the street and signed a non-disclosure agreement as temporary visitors.

Shen Pingjin was initially cautious, but the familiar process of signing an NDA reassured him.

Shi Yan, however, remained deeply suspicious about the day’s meeting, repeatedly communicating with Lu Yao to confirm details. Despite his hesitation, she insisted that he visit the company in person to discuss matters.

“This is the first time I’ve ever had such a stubborn client,” Shi Yan grumbled. He didn’t think he was obligated to take on this project, and the more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. His temper flared, and he felt like tearing up the contract.

Shen Pingjin patiently talked him down until Shi Yan reluctantly agreed. Even as they set out in the morning, he couldn’t shake his sour mood, regretting taking on the project in the first place.

As they drove from the city center to the outskirts, the roads became increasingly remote. Shi Yan couldn’t help but complain, “Are we lost?”

Shen Pingjin checked the map. “No. The route matches the map on the app.”

“What kind of reputable company operates out here?” Shi Yan sneered.

“Just keep it professional when we meet Lu Yao,” Shen Pingjin replied calmly.

Shi Yan eyed him suspiciously. “You’re acting weird.”

Without taking his eyes off the road, Shen Pingjin said, “I admit I’m a bit curious about today’s meeting, but not for the reason you think.”

Shi Yan smirked. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

As they spoke, several cars sped past them and suddenly turned onto a small side road off the main highway.

Shen Pingjin frowned slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Shi Yan asked.

“That’s our turn too,” Shen Pingjin said.

Lowering the car window, Shi Yan glanced outside. “What kind of shady place is this?”

In the middle of nowhere, with multiple luxury cars pulling in, Shi Yan’s mind drifted to less-than-wholesome scenarios.

Although Shen Pingjin was visiting for the first time as well, his trust and respect for Lu Yao led him to say nothing. He silently followed the last black sports car down the narrow road, steering them toward the commercial street.

Fortunately, the location wasn’t too far off the main highway. In fact, they could still see cars passing above.

The vehicles ahead of them pulled into a rundown parking lot by the roadside. Shi Yan had half-convinced himself this was some kind of gambling den, but when he saw Ji Zhixin and Ji Qingyan stepping out of one of the cars, he exhaled a breath of relief.

Ji Qingyan, who was supposed to be off that day, had come to test the newly stocked slimming and rejuvenation pills from the internal network. She had been eager to see how effective they were.

The pills were expensive, priced in the five-figure range even at the internal discount, and came in a set of three for a full treatment. Most of the staff were tempted but deterred by the high cost, leaving only Ji Qingyan and Bai Yi—two well-off team members—to make the splurge.

After arriving at the shopping street, Ji Qingyan habitually stopped by the hot spring inn first.

Meanwhile, other employees noticed Shen Pingjin’s car but paid no mind and went about their tasks.

Ji Zhixin waited briefly by the roadside before approaching to greet them. “Mr. Shen, Mr. Shi,” he said politely.

Shi Yan blurted out his question: “Do all of you work here?”

Ji Zhixin: “Yes. You two arrived early—have you had breakfast?”

Shen Pingjin: “Where’s Ms. Lu?”

Ji Zhixin smiled. “At this time, she’s probably in the internet café. If you don’t mind, let me treat you to breakfast first, then we can head over.”

Lu Yao had given instructions the night before: if Shi Yan and Shen Pingjin arrived early, they should be welcomed with a meal to help them relax. She had also called Shi Yan the previous night, and he had been thoroughly annoyed.

Shi Yan grumbled, full of complaints, “No breakfast, let’s just get to the meeting.”

What a joke—getting dragged out of bed early on a Sunday for an offsite meeting, only to find the client leisurely playing games in an internet café? It was absurd.

Ji Zhixin didn’t push further and instead led them to the internet café to find Lu Yao.

On either side of the narrow concrete road stood nine distinct shops and two offices, their styles eclectic. The morning sunlight spilled over the rooftops and onto the street, giving Shen Pingjin and Shi Yan an inexplicable sense of peculiarity.

Shi Yan asked, “All these shops belong to Lu Yao?”

Ji Zhixin nodded. “Yes, the internet café is also one of hers.”

Shi Yan frowned. “How does this run-down place make money?”

Ji Zhixin had heard variations of this question countless times from first-time visitors to the street. With his usual good nature, he answered, “It does.”

Shi Yan found Ji Zhixin’s mysterious demeanor irritating and wanted to snap back, but Shen Pingjin restrained him.

Before entering the café, Ji Zhixin reminded them, “It’s the busiest time of day right now. Please stick close to me.”

Shi Yan brushed off the warning, while Shen Pingjin remained silent.

The café was bustling, as usual, in the mornings, with many customers waiting for available computers or breakfast. Recently, online shopping had also gained traction, and Ji Feichen had just brought in two baskets of packages for pickup, drawing even more customers.

Ji Zhixin expertly maneuvered through the crowded entrance, staying close to the walls and navigating around the congestion. He made it to the counter, but when he turned around, Shi Yan and Shen Pingjin were nowhere to be seen.

Lu Yao wasn’t at the counter. Cheng Ye and Ji Feichen were busy handling customers. Ji Zhixin asked Cheng Ye and learned that Lu Yao was upstairs on the third floor.

When Ji Zhixin exited the café, he found Shi Yan and Shen Pingjin still standing outside, looking utterly lost.

“This place is way too crowded. We couldn’t even get in,” Shi Yan grumbled.

Ji Zhixin reassured them and suggested waiting in the second office next door, but Shi Yan stubbornly insisted on seeing Lu Yao immediately. Ji Zhixin sent a message to Lu Yao and then led them back into the café, this time ensuring they stayed close.

Inside, both Shi Yan and Shen Pingjin noticed something unusual. While the café was undeniably popular, the appearances and behaviors of the patrons were strangely peculiar.

As they ascended to the second floor, they caught sight of a holographic projection suspended in mid-air, advertising something. Both men stopped in their tracks, startled.

Shi Yan rubbed his eyes. “Am I seeing things?”

Ji Zhixin explained, “That’s a holographic projection.”

Shi Yan and Shen Pingjin exchanged incredulous looks but remained silent. Ji Zhixin didn’t elaborate further, leading them to the third floor before stopping at the staircase. “The boss is upstairs.”

He left them there, needing to return to the pet cafe for his shift. Shen Pingjin and Shi Yan climbed up on their own.

The third floor was entirely different from the second. It was a spacious, black room. Despite the lack of visible supports from below, the floor felt solid, like a floating island. The atmosphere and design resembled a scene straight out of a video game.

Scanning the space, Shi Yan didn’t see Lu Yao. Frowning, he called out, “Ms. Lu?”

“Thump—”

Shi Yan’s leg hit something soft and squishy. He froze, looking down to meet the innocent gaze of a small panda cub with round, glistening eyes.

“Is that… a panda?” Shi Yan exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief.

Shen Pingjin was equally startled. Memories of the “Paradise” game flooded his mind, but what he saw was an actual, adorable baby panda.

The cub, feeling unimpressed by their reaction, dusted off imaginary dirt from its fur, stood on its hind legs, and spoke. “Lu Yao is over there. I’ll take you to her.”

“Aaahhh!!!” Shi Yan screamed, completely losing his composure.

A talking panda? This was too much.

He must be hearing things—this place was all kinds of wrong.

Hearing the scream, Lu Yao emerged from behind a black wall as thin as paper, holding an intricately designed, jet-black staff. “Xiong An’an, didn’t I tell you to turn into your human form to greet the guests? Why are you still like this?”

The little bear demon drooped his head, feeling aggrieved. Over time, he’d learned to face reality—the humans in the shopping street clearly preferred his beast form. So, when Lu Yao asked him to greet the visitors, he got a little mischievous and deliberately stayed in his beast form, only for it to backfire.

Shi Yan, however, was thoroughly unnerved again. “What do you mean, turn into a human?”

Thinking Shi Yan wanted to see, Xiong An’an immediately shifted into his human form, transforming into a young boy. “Like this.”

Shi Yan’s heart raced, his entire body stiffening. “…”

Even Shen Pingjin, who knew some of the secrets, found himself struggling to maintain his composure.

Lu Yao sighed. “I told Zhixin to take you to eat first, hoping you’d get a sense of things and prepare yourselves mentally.”

Shi Yan, now resembling a malfunctioning robot, stammered, “Prepare for… what…”

Without holding back, Lu Yao calmly explained the situation at the internet café in detail, then shared her expedited production plan.

It was only then that Shen Pingjin understood—Lu Yao’s game project was tied to the internet café. The ambitious one-month launch timeline was also closely linked to its operations.

And, most terrifying of all, she genuinely had plausible methods to achieve this “one-month launch” goal.

To convince them, Lu Yao even took them into the Mustard Seed Realm for a firsthand experience.

She had Shen Pingjin leave his phone set to a timer mode outside the dimension, while Shi Yan brought his phone in with a timer mode running inside.

When they exited the Mustard Seed Realm, Shi Yan compared the two timers. Just as he was starting to stabilize emotionally, his composure shattered again. “This is insane! People are going to die from this!”

Lu Yao said calmly, “I’ll pay you for the time spent in the inner space.”

“….” Shi Yan’s breakdown paused momentarily, only for him to realize after a long while that he didn’t even need the money.

Lu Yao continued, “Once we finish discussing everything, I’ll show you around some of the other shops. If your team agrees to come over, during the overtime period, you’ll be considered part of the shopping street staff and enjoy internal benefits.”

Shi Yan internally: I’ve seen it all, eaten it all, and experienced it all. Who cares about some tiny street’s so-called perks?

An hour later, under Lu Yao’s unyielding leadership, the “Mustard Seed Realm Saves the World” project officially launched. Translated on hololonovels.

Emerging from the internet café, Shi Yan resembled a soulless husk drained of all spirit. The prospect of living through what was essentially a physically endless workday loomed over him.

Shen Pingjin walked silently ahead but suddenly stopped at the entrance of the pet cafe. Calmly, he suggested, “Let’s go in and take a look.”

Shi Yan groaned. “…You still have the energy?”

Shen Pingjin replied, “The internet café connects to the cultivation world. Don’t you wonder where these other shops lead?”

Shi Yan’s scattered rationality finally began to piece itself back together.

So that’s what devil Lu Yao meant.

From the Little Pet Cafe to the Interdimensional Cinema, the Blind Box Store, the Nail Salon, and the Childhood Tutoring Center, Shi Yan and Shen Pingjin explored every shop they could. By the evening, they had even booked rooms at the Hot Spring Inn.

After such an overwhelming day of witnessing so many impossibilities, Shi Yan entered the Hot Spring Inn in a state of simultaneous exhilaration and exhaustion. His face felt as stiff as dried dough, and he couldn’t even muster a reaction when greeted by the cute little human staff.

Shen Pingjin, by nature steady and composed, maintained impeccable poise and decorum throughout the day.

Having known him since childhood, Shi Yan could tell by his expression that Shen Pingjin was far from as calm internally as he appeared.

After sharing a meal with the adorable, comforting humanoid travelers at the inn, the two went to soak in the hot springs to ease the tension that had built up over an eventful day.

Shi Yan leaned against the edge of the pool, trying to collect himself, when his phone lit up in the basket nearby.

[Employee A]: Boss, how did it go?

[Employee B]: Knowing Boss’s temper, hope you didn’t reduce the client to tears.

[Employee C]: No way the client lady would endure Boss’s sharp tongue. She’s probably sulking—no chance they’re agreeing to overtime!

Shi Yan sighed, feeling conflicted. “….”

After the soak, they overheard the inn’s human staff animatedly discussing something. Their curiosity piqued, they stopped to listen.

Ji Qingyan, relaxing at the inn, was sharing her experience with the slimming and rejuvenating pills with Bai Lu, who was on duty.

The pills could be used in combination—slimming one day, rejuvenating the next, followed by a ten-day break before repeating the cycle for optimal results. Three rounds were recommended for the best effect.

Shi Yan, intrigued, went to ask a few questions and returned to their room looking utterly shocked. “I can’t believe it, Old Shen! The pills they sell here—totally legit!”

Shen Pingjin, sitting by the window on his phone, didn’t even look up. “I heard.”

Sensing something was off, Shi Yan strode over and caught a glimpse of Shen Pingjin’s screen just in time to see the words “Payment Successful.”

Shi Yan: “….”

Hearing that Shi Yan and Shen Pingjin had decided to stay overnight at the inn, Lu Yao wasn’t surprised.

With things settled on Shi Yan’s end, it was time for her to make her own preparations.

On top of the third floor of the internet café, she had constructed two more layers of interdimensional space. Tonight was scheduled for upgrades and maintenance.

Descending from the upper floors, Lu Yao habitually glanced toward the entrance.

As the evening shadows deepened, a plump figure resembling a New Year’s doll stood at the door.

Lu Yao hurried over. “You’re back.”

The little ginseng demon lowered her head bashfully and nudged a massive black stone egg at her feet toward Lu Yao. “This is for you.”

Her finest roots had all been eaten by the little sparrow demon, and it would take years to grow them back. She could only find a new gift to offer.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 114: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Lu Yao had previously discussed streaming plans with Zhu Ying, but the fake shopkeeper incident delayed things.

Yu Yao, being from the celestial race, looked down on the demon race, and the small demons of Baixian Mountain didn’t even register in her eyes. During her time as the fake shopkeeper, she acted recklessly, offending many regular customers.

After Lu Yao’s return, she held two days of coupon and snack distribution events, gradually restoring the café’s reputation.

Zhu Ying had initially approached the celestial maiden with enthusiasm to discuss the idea but was met with indifference and vague responses. Disappointed, Zhu Ying returned to her cave, puzzled by the shopkeeper’s sudden change in demeanor.

On the day of the small competition, Zhu Ying was present and witnessed the fake shopkeeper being seized by the Demon Sovereign while the real Lu Yao and the little bear demon emerged from the Mirror of Serenity. Only then did she realize what had transpired.

The day after Lu Yao’s return, she sought Zhu Ying to revive their original plan.

Since Zhu Ying was native to the Floating World and bound by system rules, her true appearance couldn’t be shown online. Lu Yao suggested a collaboration between Zhu Ying and Bai Lu: Zhu Ying would prepare the content, and Bai Lu would illustrate and create it in the style of an animated hand-drawn video for posting. The channel’s focus would be on shopping reviews and product evaluations.

Zhu Ying lamented not being able to reveal her true form but agreed to the plan. Lu Yao handed her a spider species guide and asked her to choose a design for the channel mascot that avoided resembling her actual form.

The approach was akin to creating a virtual streamer. However, for now, Zhu Ying’s real voice and form would remain hidden.

After thorough discussions, it was decided that the channel would update weekly, given the complexity of creating each post. Zhu Ying would choose topics she found interesting to share, Bai Lu would illustrate and edit the footage, and Lu Yao would review the final draft before publishing on four platforms: Big Eye, Letter Site, VV Platform (a short video site), and Little Black Book.

Revenue from the content was divided: 10% for the café, 30% for Bai Lu, and 60% for Zhu Ying. While expectations for income were low, Zhu Ying and her collaborators were more excited about having their content seen by others.

The first video, titled “First Unboxing Experience,” underwent several rounds of subtitle corrections before Lu Yao gave her approval. After final edits, the video was successfully uploaded to all four platforms.

Back at their desks, Zhu Ying and her sect brothers and sisters from the Six Realms Sect eagerly began searching for their freshly uploaded video online. Their curiosity about the internet world made the entire process—from creation to awaiting viewer feedback—exciting and novel.

…

Yaoguang City University of Technology, Girls’ Dormitory

On an uneventful Saturday afternoon, Wei Lele’s local roommate had gone home, and the other two were out on dates. Just waking up, Wei Lele sprawled on her bed, unwilling to move. She pulled out her phone from under her pillow and scrolled through social media, finding nothing interesting. She placed a food delivery order and finally got out of bed to wash up.

About twenty minutes later, her food arrived. Looking for a video to watch while eating, Wei Lele opened a video-sharing app. On the homepage of the Letter Site, a video caught her eye: a thumbnail with a bizarre yet oddly cute illustration.

The video had very few views—fewer than a hundred.

Its title wasn’t particularly captivating: “Spider Zhu Zhu’s First Unboxing Experience.”

However, the thumbnail featured large, attention-grabbing text: “A Spider Demon from the Cultivation World Shops Online for the First Time—And Buys These?!”

Curious, Wei Lele clicked on it. The video was short, barely over two minutes.

Thinking it wouldn’t suffice for her meal, she almost exited immediately. But the video had already started playing.

The first twenty seconds introduced the background: Zhu Zhuzi was a spider demon living in a cultivation world.

One day, the barrier between worlds was accidentally broken, allowing the cultivation world and the modern world to connect via the internet.

Zhu Zhuzi, a spider demon, acquired a laptop capable of accessing the internet.

In the cultivation world, spiritual stones could be exchanged for modern currency. Zhu Zhuzi exchanged a pile of spiritual stones for yuan and embarked on her online shopping journey.

There were plenty of virtual IP accounts online—virtual singers, felt wool creators, stop-motion animators, stick figure artists—covering a wide array of styles. However, Wei Lele had never seen a virtual blogger focusing on shopping reviews, complete with detailed character settings and a fleshed-out world background.

A spider demon from the cultivation world, sharing her online shopping experiences in the modern world through videos—this concept was new and intriguing to Wei Lele, who hesitated to exit the video.

Morning came, and Zhu Zhuzi returned from her cultivation. Dew still clung to the fuzz on her legs, and a paper box awaited under the stone table where she placed her laptop. It was her first online purchase.

Zhu Zhuzi didn’t open the package right away. She bustled about her cave, setting up a tablecloth, arranging flowers, and even using cultivation tools as cameras aimed at the box on the stone table.

Wei Lele suddenly had an epiphany—this little demon wasn’t just shopping online; she was filming an unboxing video!

“I’m watching a streamer film an unboxing video during an unboxing video.”

“And the streamer is a round, flashy little spider demon.”

Wei Lele found it even more amusing—she had never seen such creativity.

The next moment, the box was opened, and Zhu Zhuzi took out a pile of freebies and two small, neatly packaged boxes.

Wei Lele immediately recognized the brand—it wasn’t fictional.

For a moment, she wondered if it was another product-pushing gimmick, but with fewer than a hundred views, any sponsor would be livid.

Since she wasn’t planning to buy anything, Wei Lele relaxed and continued watching.

Each frame was a single shot, but the details were meticulous. Zhu Zhuzi testing the products on her fuzzy legs looked oddly professional, like she had studied makeup unboxing techniques online.

While opening her lunch box, Wei Lele muttered, “Pretty legit, but the fuzz makes it hard to see the colors.”

After testing the products on her “arms,” Zhu Zhuzi’s round, red eyes sparkled with excitement, clearly delighted.

Wei Lele couldn’t help but feel a little excited too. She wasn’t sure about other items, but modern makeup was undoubtedly better than the powders and rouges of the cultivation world—better pigments, smoother textures, and more sophisticated color palettes. It was no wonder a little spider demon was captivated.

Suddenly, Zhu Zhuzi leapt off the stone table. Moments later, a slender, fair hand appeared on-screen.

Wei Lele was eating and missed it. By the time she looked back, the moment had passed. A bullet comment flashed across the screen:

[Holy crap!!!!!!]

What happened?

Wei Lele put down her chopsticks and replayed the video, rewinding to a few seconds before the scene she missed.

Initially, Zhu Zhuzi appeared as a plump, round little spider—red eyes, long legs, and covered in fine fuzz. What might have been terrifying in real life was adorably stylized by the artist.

When Zhu Zhuzi left and returned, a bronze mirror had appeared on the stone table. Her fuzzy, stick-like legs transformed into slender, fair arms, which picked up the eyeshadow and lipstick to apply them. The earlier swatches were still faintly visible on her forearms.

The attention to detail was incredible.

But the most amazing part was when those hands wielded a brush and began applying makeup to her face. Frame by frame, her reflection in the bronze mirror transformed—a pair of mesmerizing, elongated eyes, a perfectly sculpted nose, and lips like delicate flower petals. The rapid frames finally slowed to reveal a stunning cyberpunk-inspired look on her face, complete with shimmering lipstick and radiant makeup.

Demon.

Truly a demon—seductive, captivating, yet commanding a powerful presence.

It was impossible to underestimate her, yet equally impossible not to fall for her at first sight.

The final scene was so stunning that Wei Lele froze for a moment before replaying the video.

Unfortunately, that breathtaking moment was fleeting; no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t capture Zhu Zhuzi’s absolute beauty in a still frame.

Growing anxious, she put her meal aside—it was growing cold by now.

Determined, Wei Lele clicked the share button and sent the link to her dorm’s group chat of four.

“You have to watch this! The final scene is amazing!”

Her roommates seemed busy; no one replied.

Unwilling to let it go, Wei Lele shared the link on her social media stories, then returned to the original video.

In the comments section, a few sporadic comments had appeared.

“Divine!”

“Zhu Zhuzi is stunning!”

…

Wei Lele left her own comment below the video:
“The eyeshadow is gorgeous, the lipstick is perfect, and Zhu Zhuzi is breathtaking!”

Barely a minute later, she received a reply from Zhu Zhuzi herself.

Although it was a simple and official-sounding “Thank you,” Wei Lele was thrilled and immediately followed the account.

At the internet café, Zhu Ying, who had been replying to comments, looked up and saw that the account’s follower count, previously at zero, had turned to “1.” She couldn’t contain her excitement and exclaimed, “Boss, Lulu! I have my first fan!”

Thrilled, Zhu Ying exited the Letter platform and opened Big-Eye Video. There, the comments and shares exceeded those on the first platform, and her account already had five followers.

Bai Lu walked over, clicked on the list of shares, and grinned, “Teacher Mei Xue and K king shared your video! Both of them have quite a few fans—Zhu Zhuzi might go viral!”

Although Mei Xue and Zhong Lianjia’s fanbases didn’t overlap with Zhu Zhuzi’s target audience at all—especially Zhong Lianjia’s, which was dominated by straight male fans—Bai Lu’s intricate yet endearing art, combined with the video’s well-paced content and the stunning final twist, captured attention. Even though it depicted only a fraction of Zhu Zhuzi’s beauty, the reversal was undeniably striking.

Before long, Zhu Zhuzi’s new Big-Eye Video account, “Zhu Zhuzi of Baixian Mountain,” gained dozens of followers. The video also started receiving more comments, and someone even tagged the eyeshadow brand for a review.

Half an hour later, the eyeshadow brand itself reposted the video, treating it as a “fan-recommendation video.” More comments related to the product started pouring in.

“Zhu Zhuzi absolutely rocked this palette, and the lipstick matches perfectly!”

“I didn’t expect to be sold on this palette through this video…”

“No wonder I couldn’t pull off this eyeshadow palette—Zhu Zhuzi’s aura is too unmatched!”

…

Zhu Ying was so busy that she could barely sit still, constantly switching between platforms to check comments and replies. Her excitement was nearly uncontrollable.

Lu Yao followed Zhu Zhuzi’s account on her phone and felt genuinely happy for the little spider.

Her assumptions were also confirmed. At present, only two things could be transported from the alternate world to this one: food consumed internally and knowledge stored in the mind.

Of these, knowledge was subject to stricter rules and required certain necessary distortions.

As for the extent of these distortions, Lu Yao intended to continue testing and exploring.

The baby Tangkang lay on the sofa, its hind legs limp as it let out soft whimpers.

Lu Yao guessed it was probably hungry.

Lu Yao wasn’t sure about the feeding habits of a spirit beast on her first attempt at raising one, so she reached out to Jin Huaichen via a voice transmission.

In Dragon Prison City, at the Beast Taming Sect, Jin Huaichen had just finished watching the recording Lu Yao had left for him, his mind brimming with questions. When her transmission arrived, he immediately answered.

Lu Yao: “Brother Jin, can a little Tangkang drink milk?”

Jin Huaichen, who had been momentarily distracted, thinking Lu Yao might regret taking the Tangkang and want to return it, replied, “…Such a weakling, abandoned by its mother, usually doesn’t survive. Nothing beats its mother’s milk for nourishment. But if you insist, try feeding it tender sprouts of Xingxing grass and goat milk.”

Xingxing grass was a spiritual herb with mild healing properties.

Lu Yao was surprised to learn that a Rui beast’s diet could include something as humble as “goat milk.” Curious, she asked, “Do you think feeding it Lihua fruit would help?”

Lihua was an ancient tree that bore red, papaya-sized fruits known for strengthening the body.

Jin Huaichen: “…For a Tangkang in that condition, even piling on spiritual herbs and stones won’t work.”

Lu Yao: “Got it. I’ll try goat milk first.”

She turned to find some powdered milk leftover from what she had bought for Xiong An’an, but Jin Huaichen stopped her.

Lu Yao: “Anything else?”

Jin Huaichen: “I watched the recording you left. Why are there demons, devils, and even cultivators in your store?”

As he watched the recording, Jin Huaichen found it absurd but couldn’t stop himself from finishing it. The video appeared to depict a strange competition. He didn’t mind the presence of demons and devils, but seeing familiar faces like Ling Xiangsi, the lead sword cultivator from Tianyan Sect, Jian Buyi from the Jiujue Sect, and Wen Yuan from Chanxin Sect left him stunned.

Lu Yao: “Oh, that? Hard to explain quickly. My little Tangkang is starving; I’ll go make it some milk. If you’re curious, come visit!”

Jin Huaichen: “…”

The entire situation smelled like a trap. Jin Huaichen set down the voice transmission jade and picked up the teleportation scroll on his table, hesitating.

Should he go?

Meanwhile, the little Tangkang, genuinely starving, buried its snout in the bowl, slurping noisily and eagerly. Translated on hololonovels.

Cheng Ye, curious, pushed open the door to the lounge and peeked in. “Boss, what’s wrong with this little piglet?”

Lu Yao: “It’s a Tangkang.”

Cheng Ye walked in and squatted next to the Tangkang. “Can I pet it?”

Lu Yao: “It’s very weak. Don’t be rough like you are with An’an.”

Cheng Ye raised his phone, took a picture of the Tangkang, carefully petted it once, and immediately posted in the staff group chat.

[Interdimentional Internet Café Cheng Ye: Look, the boss brought back a Tangkang. We’re about to get rich!]

[Hot Springs Inn Bai Lu: !!! That’s a Tangkang? I thought it was food the boss brought back.]

[Childhood Tutoring Center Xu Xiaoxiao: Does petting it bring wealth? I want to pet it too!]

…

[Lu Yao: The Tangkang isn’t Xiong An’an. It’s very weak, so don’t bother it for now.]

The staff did nothing to hide their disappointment.

[Lu Yao: By the way, I’ve bought slimming pills and rejuvenation pills. Alfred has already checked their ingredients.]

[Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi: No side effects?]

[Lu Yao: I reviewed them briefly. They’re made from spiritual herbs and materials commonly found on Floating World Continent. The formulas are sound.]

[Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi: Ahhh! When will the links be up?]

[Interdimentional Cinema Gao Meng: Will the internal price be higher than the marrow-cleansing pills?]

[Lu Yao: Much higher.]

Ling Shan had explained that to avoid side effects, both pills’ formulas and dosages had been meticulously refined, using only the highest-quality ingredients. The effects were exceptional, but so were the costs. Alfred’s report matched Ling Shan’s statements.

The only downside of these pills was their steep price.

After posting links for the slimming and rejuvenation pills on the shopping street chat, Lu Yao contacted Shi Yan to discuss progress on the game project.

Recently, Shi Yan dreaded hearing from Lu Yao. Though young, she had the demeanor of an old man—rigid, meticulous, and insistent on daily progress checks.

Shi Yan and the Time Traveler team were utterly worn out from Lu Yao’s constant pressure, feeling immense stress.

When Shi Yan received Lu Yao’s latest message, he furiously tugged at his hair, his eyes red as he vented to his staff: “She says she wants it online in a month… She’s insane! This woman is insane!”

His employees, equally haggard, looked pale and exhausted. “Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Boss, pull yourself together!”

[Lu Yao: I have a plan to speed up the progress. Come over to my place tomorrow, and we’ll discuss it in person.]

Shi Yan didn’t reply for a long time.

A few minutes later, a notification popped up on his phone for a strange app installation.

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Ch 113: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

The day after Lu Yao returned from the Mirror of Serenity, Jiao Niang and the little sparrow demon mentioned the little ginseng demon to her.

That day, after crying bitterly, the ginseng demon left and did not return to the internet café. She likely had no idea about the fake shopkeeper.

Lu Yao still remembered the ginseng demon, who resembled a New Year’s painting doll, but she had been too busy to visit earlier.

The ginseng demon was not originally from Mount Baixian; she had lived near the territory of the Beast Taming Sect.

The Beast Taming Sect had set up a spirit-gathering array in the mountains to train spiritual beasts, making the area rich in spiritual energy. The little ginseng demon had been absorbing this energy for centuries and made many friends among the spiritual beasts.

Later, she heard passing demon mention the internet café on Mount Baixian. Out of curiosity, she packed a small bundle and came to explore.

Although Mount Baixian had thin spiritual energy, it was home to many demons and devils. The café run by a human shopkeeper was intriguing, so the ginseng demon decided to stay.

Lu Yao inquired about her temporary residence on Mount Baixian and followed the winding mountain path into the forest.

Unfortunately, under a damp crevice in the rocks, there was only a handful of spirit-rich soil left.

Nearby demons told Lu Yao that the ginseng demon had left, her eyes red from crying, saying she was going back to the Beast Taming Sect to find her old friends.

After a moment of contemplation, Lu Yao returned to the internet café and used a teleportation scroll to reach the city of Ni.

In Ni City, she purchased a stack of teleportation scrolls to various locations from a magic artifact shop and then used one to teleport to Dragon Prison City.

Dragon Prison City, located in the northeast of the Floating World Continent, is the territory of the Beast Taming Sect.

The name “Dragon Prison City” has a story behind it. It’s said that a black dragon once rampaged after getting drunk, destroying a city. The Beast Taming Sect later subdued the dragon and imprisoned it in a well within the city. The ruined city was rebuilt and renamed “Dragon Prison City.”

However, the city itself resembled a bustling flower and bird market. Streets were lined with shops selling spiritual pets, and small, unintelligent animals with big, round, glistening eyes wagged their tails and made adorable sounds, entirely at odds with the menacing name “Dragon Prison.”

Dragon Prison City’s climate was also conducive to the growth of spiritual plants, and its abundant spiritual energy attracted many alchemists and artifact refiners. Stalls selling rare materials and spiritual plants were everywhere.

Lu Yao, tempted to buy materials, decided to prioritize her task. She inquired about the Beast Taming Sect’s location and planned to visit the ginseng demon in the mountains.

The young man Lu Yao asked for directions wore a yellow daoist robe and, after pointing her the way, continued to follow her.

Lu Yao turned back several times.

The man did not evade her gaze, his expression calm and composed.

Lu Yao stopped and waited for the young man to approach. “Daoist friend, is there something you wish to say?”

The young man in the yellow robe looked slightly surprised. “I didn’t think anyone in Dragon Prison City wouldn’t know about the Beast Taming Sect.”

Lu Yao: “… I came from Ni City. This is my first visit to your esteemed land.”

“My apologies.” The man bowed slightly. “I am Jin Huaichen, a disciple of the Hundred Beasts Peak of the Beast Taming Sect. May I ask what business brings you to our sect?”

A disciple of the Beast Taming Sect! Lu Yao was delighted.

However, it didn’t seem appropriate to say she was looking for a ginseng demon in their back mountain, so she claimed she wanted to buy a spiritual pet cub.

The Beast Taming Sect’s spiritual pets were highly sought after, akin to premium pedigree cats from renowned breeders in the modern world: attractive, well-behaved, and exceptionally capable.

After asking around in the city, Lu Yao learned that the Beast Taming Sect had an excellent reputation, though their prices were notoriously steep.

Many visitors came to Dragon Prison City just to admire the spiritual pets. Those who couldn’t afford the Beast Taming Sect’s offerings often searched the nearby markets for alternatives, occasionally finding good ones.

Lu Yao, who had saved some spirit stones over the past few months, couldn’t afford an adult spiritual pet and didn’t need one. She planned to buy the cheapest cub she could find, even one without intelligence, as a companion for the little bear demon.

Jin Huaichen glanced skeptically at Lu Yao. The young woman dressed plainly, with no impressive magic artifacts on her, and had a soft, unassuming demeanor. Yet her cultivation was not low.

Though suspicious, Jin Huaichen maintained his composure and politely guided Lu Yao to the Beast Taming Sect.

The sect was built at the foot of the mountain, with nine surrounding peaks dedicated to raising spiritual pets.

Lu Yao had spoken with the little ginseng demon a few times before. The ginseng demon had once complained that adult spiritual pets tend to be arrogant and dislike the presence of other spirits or creatures in their territory. Because of this, the ginseng demon often roamed the two mountain peaks where the Beast Taming Sect raised free-range spiritual pet cubs.

The cubs were lively, trusting, and very clingy, frequently seeking out the ginseng demon to play.

When Jin Huaichen heard Lu Yao mention wanting to buy a cub, he bluntly informed her that cubs were even more expensive than adult spiritual pets.

Lu Yao put on a conflicted expression, thought for a moment, and said she still wanted to see the cubs first.

Jin Huaichen didn’t doubt her, and in good spirits, led her up the mountain.

The back mountains of the Beast Taming Sect were practically a mythical zoo. There were musk deer, stream beasts, porcupines—relatively common cubs among the spiritual beasts.

As they walked, Jin Huaichen introduced the cubs, occasionally glancing at Lu Yao.

It seemed he assumed Lu Yao couldn’t afford the pricier breeds, so he kept her at the base of the mountain to view more common small beasts.

Lu Yao had already given up hope upon entering the mountain. The area was massive, and finding a single ginseng demon roaming the mountains for spiritual energy was practically impossible.

With a Beast Taming Sect disciple by her side, she also couldn’t take any alternative actions.

As they passed a patch of shallow grassland, Lu Yao and Jin Huaichen heard pitiful cries.

They approached and parted the grass to find a limping cub surrounded by several other cubs bullying it.

The bullying cubs had gathered thorny leaves, covering the limping cub with them.

The injured cub cried miserably as it dragged its useless leg to crawl out, only to be buried under more leaves.

Jin Huaichen immediately ran over, picking up the cubs with the thorny leaves and placing them aside. He pried the fuzzy leaves from their mouths. “Little ancestors, where did you find these thorn sugar leaves? What if you hurt yourselves on the thorns?”

Lu Yao approached and gently pulled the ignored limping cub out from under the pile of thorn sugar leaves.

The poor little creature was indeed fragile, its soft pink skin covered in scratches, crying pitifully.

Jin Huaichen turned back to see Lu Yao holding the limping cub in her arms. He frowned slightly. “It’s naturally frail. It won’t live long.”

Beast tamers encountered a few such cubs every year. No matter how much medicine or spiritual energy was used, these frail creatures inevitably withered and died.

Jin Huaichen had his first encounter with such a cub when he was six years old, only half a year into joining the sect.

As a child, he naturally loved small animals. Under his master’s guidance, he incubated his first green peacock.

The green peacock was a common spiritual beast on the Floating World Continent, easily obtainable and of low value.

Even novice disciples could practice with them.

Perhaps due to his inexperience, he failed to notice issues during the incubation process.

His master immediately recognized the peacock as flawed at first glance, saying it wouldn’t grow properly.

But it was Jin Huaichen’s first spiritual beast, one he had hatched with his own hands.

Despite knowing the outcome, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon it, clinging to a sliver of hope.

He poured all his affection into the little peacock, hoping for a miracle.

In less than half a month, the green peacock died.

Jin Huaichen had cried for a long time, holding the limp body of the little creature.

Now, like all Beast Taming Sect disciples, Jin Huaichen no longer invested feelings into naturally frail cubs, leaving them to fend for themselves.

Lu Yao held the pink cub by its armpits, carefully examining its hooves and features. “Is this a piglet?”

Jin Huaichen: “…This is a Tangkang.”

Lu Yao was surprised. “The legendary auspicious beast that brings wealth?”

Jin Huaichen: “…You still need to work hard yourself.”

Lu Yao carefully cradled the little piglet back into her arms. “Brother Jin, I want to buy this Tangkang. Name your price.”

Jin Huaichen: “…It’s naturally frail and won’t live long enough to bring you any fortune.”

Lu Yao couldn’t help but say, “Actually, I have some money. I just feel that its life is already short and miserable; I can’t bear it.”

Jin Huaichen suddenly felt a bit flustered. “This little Tangkang is practically at death’s door. If you like it, take it; no charge.”

Lu Yao shook her head. “I can’t accept that.”

Resolute, she paid ten high-grade spirit stones and took the limping Tangkang cub with her.

Before leaving, she gifted Jin Huaichen a bundle of teleportation scrolls from the internet café, some discount coupons, and a recording talisman. She warmly invited him to visit Mount Baixian whenever he had the chance.

Holding the items, Jin Huaichen felt increasingly guilty.

Shortly after they left the Beast Mountain, several spiritual beast cubs trotted up the path with a pouch in their mouths, crying softly as they approached a stone crevice.

After a moment, a plump ginseng sprout emerged from the crack.

The little ginseng demon had returned to the Beast Mountain but had spent the past few days sulking underground.

The cubs, puzzled by the pouch’s scent, threw it to her. Recognizing the familiar aura, the ginseng demon felt a pang of sadness and discarded it.

The cubs, confused, retrieved the pouch and handed it back to her.

After this back-and-forth several times, the little ginseng demon finally relented. Reluctantly, she opened the pouch.

Inside was a miniature storage bag, just large enough to hold a three-tiered lunchbox and a letter.

The ginseng demon unpacked everything. The white floral lunch bag contained a thermal lunchbox.

One tier was filled with an assortment of cookies, another with fragrant roasted beef cubes, and the last with fresh strawberries topped with cream—all foods the ginseng demon had seen online and longed for. The shopkeeper had remembered.

She couldn’t resist trying a beef cube. It was tender, juicy, and rich with a delightful milky aroma—better than she had imagined.

The cubs, intrigued by the unfamiliar yet enticing aroma, blinked their big eyes and started nudging her roots, begging for a taste.

The plump ginseng demon reluctantly shared a tiny portion before tightly closing the lunchbox and opening the letter.

Lu Yao had written the letter in the demon language, explaining the recent events at the internet café, apologizing, and inviting her to return to the café to play.

Halfway through the letter, the ginseng demon began to weep softly.

Her tears, infused with spiritual energy, were potent supplements.

The cubs pretended to comfort her with low whines while sneaking licks of the tears from the stone crevice.

This was better than eating spirit grass.

Regaining her composure, the plump ginseng demon noticed the cubs secretly licking her tears. She turned away, rummaged through the crevice, and emerged with a tiny bundle the size of a human fist.

She was going back to Mount Baixian!

Meanwhile, Lu Yao had scattered dozens of identical pouches across the Beast Mountain, hoping at least one or two would reach the ginseng demon.

If not, she planned to confess the situation to Jin Huaichen next time and see if he could help.

Leaving the Beast Taming Sect, Lu Yao didn’t return immediately. Instead, she carried the frail little Tangkang around the city for a while.

Everyone who saw the Tangkang said it wouldn’t live long. They advised her not to waste spirit stones or elixirs on it and suggested she find another spiritual pet instead.

But Lu Yao hadn’t intended to raise a spiritual pet in the first place. She already had too many little ones at home, each with its unique personality and appearance.

She truly just pitied this poor creature and wanted to care for it until its natural end.

The Beast Taming Sect’s assessment of its condition was authoritative. If they said it wouldn’t grow, it wouldn’t.

After seeking medical help in vain, Lu Yao turned to a shop selling materials and spiritual plants, purchasing a large haul.

In the spiritual plant shop, she unexpectedly ran into an acquaintance—Ling Shan, who had previously agreed to help her craft slimming and beauty-enhancing elixirs.

Ling Shan initially had no intention of speaking, but Lu Yao called out to her.

Ling Shan appeared slightly surprised.

Lu Yao: “Don’t remember me? Any progress on the elixirs we discussed last time?”

Ling Shan: “…I already delivered a batch of pills to you once. Don’t you remember?”

Lu Yao paused, quickly recalling.

To be honest, the celestial maiden had indeed caused her a lot of trouble in her absence.

But now that the culprit was confined in the deepest, eighteenth layer of the Dark Prison in the Demon Realm, enduring eighteen rounds of soul-wrenching whips daily—described as “a fate worse than death”—Lu Yao felt little need to dwell on it.

She briefly explained the situation at the internet café to Ling Shan. Translated on hololonovels.

Ling Shan was shocked. “Something like this happened? I didn’t sense a thing.”

Lu Yao: “We only met once. How could I blame you?”

Ling Shan: “…And yet you recognized me at a glance.”

Lu Yao smiled. “A businessperson without sharp eyes wouldn’t last long.”

Ling Shan chuckled. “That elixir has been selling like hotcakes, just as you said. Not only do mortals love it, but even some cultivators secretly buy from me.”

Lu Yao thought to herself that skincare and slimming products always had broad appeal. The “pursuit of beauty” was a fundamental human instinct. Products that were both effective and safe were naturally in high demand.

Especially in the cultivation world, such products, if introduced to places like the commercial districts of the Internet Café, Eden Sea, or Sanhua City, could undoubtedly become bestsellers. Their popularity might rival modern hair-growth tonics and serums.

Inspired by the thought, Lu Yao couldn’t help but ask Ling Shan, “Do you think it’s possible to develop hair-growth elixirs?”

Ling Shan: “…Would people buy that?”

Looking at Ling Shan’s thick, flowing hair, Lu Yao understood why she couldn’t relate. “Trust me, there’s definitely a market.”

Ling Shan promised that once she developed such an elixir, the internet café would be the first to receive it.

Ever ambitious, Lu Yao also struck a deal with Ling Shan, buying 20 bottles of slimming elixirs and 20 bottles of beauty-enhancing elixirs in bulk.

By the time Lu Yao returned to the internet café with the limping Tangkang in tow, it was already afternoon.

As she pushed the door open, Zhu Ying immediately rushed over, her face glowing with excitement. “Boss, come quick! My first draft is done!”

Not only Zhu Ying, but also her fellow sect brothers and sisters from the Six Realms Sect were gathered behind the counter. Bai Lu, seated at a computer, was carefully proofreading subtitles.

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Ch 112: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Lu Yao opened the image. Mo Bao’s human form bore a resemblance to Zeyuan—black hair, black clothes, and red eyes passed down like a familial trait. Sitting together, they indeed looked a bit like father and son.

[Lu Yao’s Interdimensional Internet Cafe has earned renown across the Six Realms, upgraded to a four-star shop. Reward: Popularity +40,000, World tree +1! Keep up the good work, store owner!]

Lu Yao looked up, momentarily distracted by the system notification.

[New mission available! In three months, the Ancient Celestial-Demonic Conference will take place. Lu Yao’s Interdimensional Internet Cafe must inform all Six Realms and host this long-lost event. Successfully holding the Celestial-Demonic Conference will complete the mission. Rewards: Popularity +1,000,000, Spirit-Converging Colorful Stones ×10, Immortal Fruit ×1, World tree seed ×1, Godslayer Arrow ×1. Please strive to complete the mission!]

The reward list was both astonishing and thrilling, perfectly hitting the store owner’s aspirations.

After reading over 10,000 books in the Mirror of Serenity, Lu Yao had developed a deep understanding of the rare treasures in the Mortal World.

Spirit-Converging Colorful Stones were said to be fragments of the Five-Colored Stones used by Nuwa to mend the heavens.
The Immortal Fruit came from the Immortal Tree and was also the raw material for the Elixir of Immortality.
World tree, the mythical bridge connecting heaven, earth, and divine realms, was the only divine tree with “heavenly ladder” properties.
Only the mysterious Godslayer Arrow had an unclear origin.

Turning back to the mission, the phrases “ancient,” “inform all Six Realms,” “lost for millennia,” and “Celestial-Demonic Conference” combined to instantly raise the mission’s difficulty to an extreme level.

Lu Yao had always suspected that the proxy bot had a mischievous streak.

Still, if the last seemingly impossible task was completed just before its deadline, this new one, with three months of preparation time, might just be doable.

She had taken precautions in advance—collaborating with Shen Pingjin on game development—partly for this reason.

While Lu Yao didn’t know the specifics of future missions, after running nine stores and gaining ample experience, she realized the Dream Fulfillment System seemed to act like a test setter. The scope of its questions was often determined by the store owner’s chosen business focus.

This relationship of mutual checks and balances likely existed from the very beginning, even if the novice store owner back then hadn’t noticed.

But how could a humble internet cafe host a grand event lost to time for millennia and gather beings from all Six Realms?

Money? Prestige? Power?

Or the simplest and harshest truth in the cultivation world—the rule of the strong?

None of these seemed within reach of a small internet cafe owner.

Lu Yao believed there was a universal trait among all sentient beings: curiosity.

That, she felt, was her key to success.

Lu Yao got up, washed up, grabbed two freshly made ham sandwiches from the stove, drank a glass of warm milk in one go, and placed the empty cup on the inn’s central kitchen counter without looking back as she walked out the door.

Heici, from across the guesthouse courtyard, noticed this. He led the now noticeably larger Beef Cube through the glass corridor to the counter to clean up after Lu Yao.

Lu Yao left the inn and headed straight to the small road opposite, stopping at the entrance of the second office building. She knocked lightly on the door.

Liu Yixi and Mei Xue, who had just arrived, looked up.

Lu Yao: “How’s the progress?”

Liu Yixi: “About 30% done.”

Mei Xue: “I’m at roughly 20%.”

For a project still in its infancy, with only a handful of team members, the progress was impressive.

The background materials provided by the store owner were particularly dense. The world-building alone involved all Six Realms, featuring a vast and complex setting. The detailed character backstories, high modeling standards, intricate scenes, game mechanics, and balance required extensive effort. The collaborating partners on the other end were also racing against time to meet expectations.

Lu Yao: “What if I said we need to launch in a month? Any chance?”

Liu Yixi: “…Boss, with all due respect, dreaming might be faster.”

Lu Yao’s expression didn’t change, still in the mood to banter. “You’re a bit bold.”

Liu Yixi immediately wore a pained expression. “Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Ask a hundred times, and it’s still impossible—even if the salary triples!”

Lu Yao turned to Mei Xue.

Mei Xue, much softer, blinked innocently. “I’m just a humble artist who knows nothing.”

Lu Yao: “…So, realistically, how long would it take? Assuming everything is perfectly resourced and scheduled?”

Mei Xue: “…Three months?”

Liu Yixi buried his face in his hands. “At least half a year.”

Lu Yao relaxed. “Actually, here’s the thing: I recently got a special-artifact, a time distorting realm, in the Floating World. Inside it, one year equals one day in the real world.”

Liu Yixi & Mei Xue: “…”

They were very intrigued by this time distorting realm, but why develop such a crazy feature?

Lu Yao: “Let me figure something out. When the time comes, can you manage a little overtime inside my time distorting realm?”

Liu Yixi & Mei Xue: “…”

Lu Yao: “Of course, I’m not stingy. Overtime in the time distorting realm will be compensated according to the time spent inside.”

The two, initially wilted like dry pickled greens, perked up as if showered in spring rain. They almost wanted to kneel and proclaim, “Boss, you’re brilliant. Thank you, Boss!”

Inside the time distorting realm, one year equals one day outside.

A project requiring six months—about 180 days—could theoretically be completed in just a single day in the real world. They would indeed work for six months but receive fair pay, all without disrupting their normal lives. Plus, they could experience the legendary time distorting realm.

Thinking about it this way, it didn’t seem so bad after all.

Lu Yao: “So, it’s settled. Adjust your workflow for now, and I’ll schedule the overtime later.”

Lu Yao prepared to head to the internet cafe.

Mei Xue stopped her. “I think it’d be good to hire a writer.”

Mei Xue had long thought the game’s expansive world, models, and character designs were intriguing. With a professional writer, the backstories and characters could be made even more engaging. She hesitated before bringing it up, considering her recent hire and previous work experiences, but decided to speak up.

Lu Yao thought for a moment. “Alright. If you have someone in mind, feel free to recommend them. I’ll have Zhixin handle screening and interviews.”

Encouraged, Liu Yixi added: “Boss, I think relying on just me and Xiao Xue for overtime might not cut it. Maybe we could bring in the team from Shen Group?”

Lu Yao had considered it but found it slightly tricky. She promised to think it through.

With no further issues, Liu Yixi and Mei Xue got back to reworking their project schedule, already looking forward to the time distorting realm experience. It was strange—they were actually excited about overtime.

At the internet cafe, Zeyuan and Mo Bao were seated at the machines closest to the bar.

Lu Yao walked over and greeted them. “Morning. Have you eaten?”

Zeyuan seemed distracted and took a moment to respond. “I have.”

Lu Yao retrieved a still-warm ham sandwich from her portable storage and handed it to him. “You’re not good at lying.”

“Ridiculous!” Zeyuan turned slightly, avoiding her gaze. “Why would I need to lie?”

Feeling a bit hungry herself, Lu Yao started eating her own sandwich and casually placed a handful of candy on Mo Bao’s desk.

Mo Bao, newly crowned Demon Prince and no longer just the Demon Sovereign’s pet, was still reveling in his promotion. It was a good morning for the young Demon Prince—his new dad had even brought him to the internet cafe. He was so happy he didn’t notice Lu Yao at first.

Lu Yao studied Zeyuan for a moment. “Something happened?”

Zeyuan shook his head. “No, just bored.”

Unlike others, he never found much interest in using the internet.

Lu Yao leaned slightly forward. “What did Yu Yao say to you?”

Her sharpness never ceased to surprise him.

Ze Yuan nodded slightly. “She said she envied you.”

In truth, Zeyuan Yao’s words had been much more pointed. She genuinely believed she was more deserving of being the internet cafe’s owner and was consumed by resentment and frustration.

Lu Yao chuckled. “She told me she liked you.”

A flicker of astonishment crossed Zeyuan’s eyes, and he instinctively refuted, “I don’t.”

This sulking attitude likely stemmed from the day he stopped responding to her messages. Lu Yao knew Yu Yao had seen her memories and probably hated her to the core by now.

During the interrogation, Yu Yao might have let slip some secrets about her, such as the existence of the store, the interdimensional system, or her tasks.

Given Zeyuan’s lack of personal memories, being swayed was only natural.

Zeyuan Yao likely intended to sabotage her mission, but instead, Zeyuan expedited matters by appointing his companion pet as the Demon Prince.

The other day, Xuanfeng had mentioned that the Demon Sovereign was particularly busy—likely preoccupied with this affair.

Now that it was settled, he probably still felt a pang of discomfort.

Well, thanks to Yu Yao’s interference, Lu Yao’s task had wrapped up ahead of schedule. She could manage the cleanup now.

Lu Yao leaned in closer, her eyes meeting Zeyuan’s starry, trembling crimson ones. “What I said in the Demon Realm last time—I didn’t lie.”

Zeyuan’s cheeks flushed instantly.

Satisfied she had made her point, Lu Yao smoothly switched topics. “What were you looking for in the secret realm last time?”

…

Meanwhile, Xuanfeng, who had been waiting in line for food at the bar, finally got his turn. As he turned to leave, he saw Lu Yao walking straight toward the Demon Sovereign.

Knowing better, he tactfully kept his distance. Translated on hololonovels.

Still, with the Devil Clan’s natural talent for heightened senses, especially in a space as small as the internet cafe, standing three meters away didn’t stop him from overhearing everything.

Their sovereign was utterly captivated by the human store owner.

And yet, even with that, couldn’t she have just said it one more time?!

Zeyuan didn’t linger in the cafe for long. After talking with Lu Yao briefly, he dragged a game-obsessed Mo Bao away, apparently with more pressing matters to handle.

By then, Xiong An’an had already left with Jiao Niang in the morning and wasn’t in the store.

Lu Yao took a moment to discuss her future overtime plans with Cheng Ye.

Cheng Ye had no objections.

With nothing else pressing in the store, and plenty of time left in the day, Lu Yao decided to head out for a bit.

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