Author Archives: Thingyan

Ch 41: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Lu Yao held the fetal seed box, no larger than her fingertip, in the palm of her hand. The small, oval-shaped fetal seed inside was encased in a pale, translucent membrane, resembling a piece of overripe, decaying fruit.

Its tiny and peculiar form made it hard to imagine what a Nitean smallfolk might look like at birth.

Lu Yao pinched the sides of the box delicately, her fingers trembling slightly, afraid that even the slightest pressure might crush it.

She glanced up and called, “Yuanwei, Zhu Zhou, bring some thick towels and lay them on the floor.”

Once the floor was layered soft and secure, Lu Yao gently set the fetal seed box down.

Ziye, Qianlang, and Beibei had already come down from the fourth floor, with Ziye still holding the pot of Yangju Flower. Other little people gathered close, their faces filled with concern.

Lu Yao hesitated. The tiny object was so fragile that she didn’t dare touch or move it carelessly.

After a moment’s thought, she opted for the safest and most conventional approach—light magic.

Healing light magic was faster and more effective than any medicine. Concentrating, Lu Yao raised a hand, and a silvery-white glow began to coalesce at her fingertip.

The surrounding little people were transfixed, their wide eyes reflecting the shimmering light.

Lu Yao, feeling nervous, kept her hand a centimeter away from the fetal seed box, not daring to touch it. The orb of light at her fingertip grew steadily, finally enveloping the fetal seed entirely.

Thump, thump.

The box trembled twice.

The little people’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Lu Yao paused and gestured for Ziye to check.

Ziye carefully examined the fetal seed and sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not working.”

“But it moved!” Qianlang exclaimed, his voice laced with both hope and confusion.

Ziye explained, “It’s too weak. The movement was just…” He stopped himself from saying “a final struggle.”

The fetal seed was beyond saving.

Understanding the implications, Qianlang and Beibei began to weep again. Without this fetal seed, they would likely never have children of their own.

The temple would never grant them another.

The little people around them stood in mournful silence, their expressions heavy with sorrow.

Lu Yao furrowed her brow and extended her left hand. Slowly, dark markings began to emerge on her arm, resembling a mysterious, intricate totem.

The little people were stunned, their eyes as round as full moons, unable to look away.

They had always believed Lu Yao to be just an ordinary human. Even the most naïve and simple-minded among them now sensed something was amiss.

The power bestowed upon Lu Yao by Fula’s Blessing allowed her to manifest what she desired, so long as the result had once occurred in some form and had been observed, recorded, or imagined by her.

For instance, before gaining access to the store network, Lu Yao could never have conceived of such a reality-bending ability, nor would she have believed it possible.

After working alongside the Dream Fulfillment System and witnessing its use of this ability numerous times, Lu Yao had come to understand its intricacies—though the system often grumbled about the complexity of its tasks.

With sufficient understanding, Lu Yao had managed to replicate the ability using her own memory and intuition.

Even if the principles weren’t entirely the same and the results occasionally differed, the desired objects or outcomes would still manifest as needed.

But resurrecting a lost life was beyond her imagination.

Even in Alexander’s realm, resurrection magic was forbidden and deemed a taboo.

Ambrose once told her that the undead did not truly resurrect souls but transformed them into another kind of existence.

Lu Yao dared not even contemplate such possibilities with the fetal seed, fearing that Fula’s Blessing might interpret her thoughts too literally and transform the fetal seed into a dead soul.

Minutes passed. Beads of sweat formed on Lu Yao’s forehead, but tfetal seed inside the box remained unresponsive.

“Lu Yao,” Ziye finally broke the silence, his voice steady but heavy. “Let it go.”

The hopeful light in the little people’s eyes gradually dimmed, replaced by blank expressions as they silently accepted the reality of the fetal seed’s death.

Beside the fetal box, Qianlang and Beibei, their voices hoarse from crying, could no longer sob—only large, heavy tears rolled down their faces.

The room’s temperature seemed to drop abruptly, sending a chill down everyone’s spines.

Budu woke up from a nap, rubbing his eyes as he stepped out. “Mother, what’s going on?”

Lu Yao briefly explained the situation with the fetal seed and, considering Budu’s unique nature, asked if he could help.

Budu glanced at the wooden box, his brow furrowing slightly before he shook his head in resignation. “It’s not completely dead, but it can’t survive either. Apologies, my abilities are focused on destruction, not saving lives.”

Lu Yao blinked in surprise. “You mean it still has some life in it?”

Budu nodded. “A faint trace.”

That minuscule flicker of life was something only an entity like Budu could perceive.

However, Budu’s “destructive” abilities were of no use in saving a life.

Lu Yao pondered which other entities might possess the power to revive it.

As she thought, the black pearl on her wrist glowed faintly, as if she were being watched by a pair of gentle, compassionate eyes.

In a flash of inspiration, Lu Yao retrieved a handful of Tears of the Sea Goddess from her portable storage.

The fetal box was too small to fit even a single pearl, and Lu Yao was worried about accidentally damaging the fragile fetal seed. She turned to Budu. “Bring me a small bowl.”

Budu returned with a bowl. Lu Yao placed a layer of pearls at the bottom, covered them with two soft towels, and gently set the fetal box inside. Then, she arranged more pearls around the box.

Using Fula’s Blessing once again, Lu Yao visualized the pearls dissolving like medicine and releasing their essence. She guided the divine power from the sea goddess into the fetal seed, bit by bit.

Thump, thump.

The fetal box trembled again. The pale membrane surrounding the fetal seed began to regain a faint pink hue.

As the pearls were absorbed, their size shrank from fingertip-sized to that of a grain of rice.

The fetal seed regained vitality, its steady “thump, thump” movements now so vigorous that the box itself quivered.

Lu Yao lowered her gaze. As the membrane returned to a healthy color, the shape and size of the fetal seed reminded her of something she had seen before.

Ziye quickly suppressed the astonishment in his eyes and went upstairs to retrieve the panels to reseal the fetal box.

Lu Yao, however, had noticed something curious just before the box was closed: a small tail-like structure at the seed’s base, seemingly connected to the box wall. Unfortunately, Ziye moved too quickly for her to get a clear look.

The little people exchanged uncertain glances, still dazed.

Xia Yin was the first to speak. “Is the fetal seed safe now?”

Lu Yao didn’t answer but instead looked at Ziye.

Kneeling on the ground, Ziye pressed his ear against the box.

Inside, the once faint movement now felt like an overactive heartbeat, thumping every few seconds. The box’s surface was warm to the touch, even livelier than when the seed had first been obtained from the temple.

Ziye nodded confidently. “It’s fine now.”

Qianlang and Beibei clutched the box tightly, tears streaming down their faces, but this time, there was light in their eyes. Looking up at Lu Yao, they tried to speak, but no words came out.

Lu Yao waved them off. “No need. Take care of it.” She relaxed slightly, but the effort left her parched. She turned to get a drink of water.

“Wait,” Beibei called out, her face flushed.

Lu Yao turned. “Yes?”

Beibei stammered, “I’m sorry. And… thank you.”

Qianlang, equally red-faced, bowed deeply. “I’m sorry. And thank you.”

Lu Yao was quiet for a moment before responding, “May I see the box one more time?”

They exchanged a look, embarrassed by their earlier behavior, and stepped aside.

Lu Yao didn’t touch the box, merely inspected it closely, noting the top structure. Satisfied, she stepped back. “That’s all. Thank you.”

The other little people, overjoyed, gathered around Lu Yao, their eyes filled with admiration.

Lu Yao felt the exhaustion hit her. After exchanging a few lighthearted words with the little people, she finally excused herself and returned to her room to rest.

Outside, the rain had stopped, and the sky was clearing.

The little people in the inn gathered around Qianlang and Beibei. Jiexiang asked, “Are you getting ready to leave?”

Qianlang and Beibei were packing their belongings. The rain had just stopped, and with the uncertain state of the fetal seed, leaving hastily seemed unwise.

Beibei rubbed her eyes, her face still flushed. “Yes, we’ll feel more at ease once we’re back at the tribe. When our little one is born, Qianlang and I will bring him back to thank Lu Yao properly.”

A mere apology wasn’t enough for their earlier outburst. Feeling embarrassed to stay any longer, they decided it was better to leave soon.

Xia Yin, pulling Fengqin along, stepped forward. “We’ll go with you. I haven’t been back home in a long time, so it’s a good excuse.”

Qianlang and Beibei, utterly exhausted, understood her intention. With the rain just stopped and night approaching, traveling now would make it difficult to care for the fetal seed properly.

Just as Xia Yin’s tone remained cold and her expression neutral, Lu Yao, though already lying down, felt uneasy. She got up and went to the door, listening to the conversation.

Leaning against the doorway, she said, “Even with four people, traveling at this time isn’t a good idea. The nights on Nitean Continent are still cold. It’s better to rest for the night and leave in the morning.”

After speaking, she called for Hudie and Zhu Zhou to arrange guest rooms, yawning as she headed back to her room. “Don’t wake me up for dinner.”

The little people stared in awe toward the kitchen, their eyes sparkling.

Jiexiang cupped her face with her hands. “I love Lu Yao so much!!!”

Ziye: “…”

Hudie: “I love Lu Yao too!”

A’dai: “Who wouldn’t love Lu Yao?”

…

Thanks to Lu Yao’s considerate suggestion, Qianlang and Beibei didn’t insist on leaving and instead checked back into Room 402.

The other big people had been sent away by Lu Yao, and she herself had gone to bed.

Budu sat on the windowsill opposite, stacking blocks, presenting a cold and indifferent back that seemed to say he didn’t want to be disturbed.

The little people in the inn were left feeling bored, sprawling haphazardly across the miniature theater’s chairs.

Jiexiang sighed, “I’m so bored.”

Hudie said, “I feel like we’ve forgotten to do something, but I can’t remember what.”

A’dai suddenly sat up. “The acorus!!!”

Jiexiang grabbed Ziye. “Lu Yao planted acorus in the flower house—come on, let’s go look!”

They had intended to check earlier when they first heard, but it had slipped their minds after being interrupted.

Ziye was skeptical. “How’s that possible?”

But on second thought, considering Lu Yao had both Yangju seeds and sun tangerine, having acorus didn’t seem far-fetched either.

The little people made their way along the wall past the Rose Garden, while Ziye and Zhu Zhou carried the Yangju flower bowl back into the glass flower house.

Although they knew about the flower house behind the Rose Garden, this was their first time actually entering it.

Transparent walls, a spacious interior, and many empty wooden shelves.

Only a few flowerpots filled with soil were placed on the shelf to the left of the entrance.

“It’s really Acorus! Ahhh!” Jiexiang couldn’t contain her excitement and pulled on Ziye’s sleeve with vigorous enthusiasm.

The little people who came to the flower house with her were also stunned—it truly was the legendary Acorus grass.

Acorus was recorded in the murals of every tribe.

This grass didn’t possess any particularly unique effects but symbolized beauty and harmony.

In the customs of the little people, during the Iris Ceremony, having a real Acorus plant displayed in the room would make every guest envious.

But over time, Acorus had gradually disappeared.

For many years, the little people performing the Iris Ceremony with their partners had to use painted stones as substitutes. It was rare for anyone to find a real Acorus.

Jiexiang, overwhelmed with excitement, hugged Ziye. “When Lu Yao wakes up, let’s ask her to trade us an Acorus.”

Even though her own Iris Ceremony had taken place years ago, Jiexiang still longed for a real Acorus plant.

Ziye, however, seemed distracted. His gaze shifted from the Acorus saplings to the slightly wilted Yangju flower at his feet, and then to the barren tea bowl beside it. A suspicion grew in his heart.

Could she have planted Yangju here?

Why would she casually plant it in such a way?

Yangju trees were notoriously delicate. Could it even sprout?

And the Yangju flower wasn’t enough.

Ziye began to contemplate whether he should return to his tribe to collect more Yangju flowers.

When he had left the tribe, he had no intention of ever going back. Now, imagining himself brazenly returning to say:
“Elders, please give me a hundred Yangju flowers to gift the big people of Thorn Valley…”

If he dared utter such a sentence, he would surely be chased out.

But even if he told the truth, it wasn’t likely anyone would believe him.

Jiexiang nudged Ziye with her elbow. “What are you thinking about? You’re not even listening to me.”

Ziye snapped out of his thoughts. “Nothing.”

Jiexiang crossed her short arms, looking indignant. “You’re lying.”

Ziye sighed. “I was just thinking about how to convince Lu Yao to trade us an Acorus. After all, she only has three, and everyone wants one.”

Only then did Jiexiang notice the unusually tense silence in the flower house. Everyone’s gaze was locked on the three small flowerpots.

She quickly tugged on Ziye’s arm and whispered, “Let’s go. Let’s find Lu Yao first.”

In the lounge, Lu Yao lay on the bed, her eyes shut tightly, her brow furrowed, trapped in a strange dream.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 40: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

“Temple Knight?”

Lu Yao stood at the doorway, her gaze drifting toward the Rose Garden House.

Ziye was still holding Jiexiang tightly and hadn’t heard the commotion. The thunder rumbled, and the small figures, who had just started to lift their heads, huddled back into a ball.

Lu Yao squatted down, her expression showing slight surprise.

The two little people were the same guests who had checked out earlier that morning.

“What happened?” Lu Yao asked gently, lowering her voice.

Qianlang and Beibei clung protectively to the box in their arms, ignoring her inquiry.

Beibei, soaked to the skin with her hair plastered to her face, knelt on the ground, her expression stricken. “Temple Knight, please, save our child!”

Lu Yao rose and walked toward the Rose Garden House, giving Ziye a light nudge. “Those guests who checked out this morning are here, asking for your help.”

The small figures huddled on the steps began lifting their heads. Xia Yin was the first to stand, quickly walking to the edge of the window to peer outside.

Ziye gently released Jiexiang, soothing her. “I’ll go take a look.”

At the entrance, Qianlang and Beibei’s faces lit up with desperate hope when they saw Ziye. They crawled forward on their knees, clutching the hem of his clothing.

Beibei pushed the wooden box containing their fetal seed toward Ziye, her voice hoarse. “Temple Knight, please, save him.”

…

Earlier that day, after checking out of the inn, Qianlang and Beibei had continued their journey toward the Blackrock Tribe, determined to reach home as quickly as possible.

But midway, Beibei noticed something alarming—the fetal seed seemed to have stopped moving.

The special wooden box holding their fetal seed was made from sacred wood, designed to relay the state of the fetal seed through the box’s surface.

Throughout their journey, their fetal seed had been relatively quiet, occasionally moving after long periods of stillness. Beibei had thought their child was simply reserved, even commenting about it to Qianlang.

But since their departure that morning, there had been no movement at all.

Beibei repeatedly checked the box, noting that its surface, which should feel warm to the touch, was steadily cooling until it was left with only a faint warmth.

Finally, they realized something was wrong—but they didn’t dare open the box recklessly.

In her panic, Beibei recalled seeing a pair of unusual companions at the inn earlier: a male with short golden hair and a female with distinct markings—a pair of black moles near her lips and furry ears.

Golden hair was a mark of the Shenmu Tribe.

While seeking the fetal seed at the temple, Beibei had overheard two knights whispering about a fellow knight who had left the tribe years ago with an outsider companion, rumored to hail from the Luoxiong Tribe.

The image of the knight aligned with Ziye, making him their last hope.

…

The rain outside pounded relentlessly, filling the inn with a heavy silence.

Qianlang and Beibei, deeply wary of Lu Yao and the other human staff, refused to let them approach.

Ziye stepped forward, gently feeling around the surface of the wooden box. His expression remained composed as he instructed the pair to carry the box to an open area in front of the brick guesthouse.

The little people gathered around as Yuanwei and Zhu Zhou brought three clean towels from the laundry room and handed them over to the trio.

Qianlang and Beibei clutched the towels absently, their focus entirely on the box holding their fetal seed.

Ziye carefully wiped the moisture off the box, pressing his ear against it. He listened intently but could hear no movement inside.

He raised his head and looked at the couple. “There’s no sound. The only way to check is to open the box.”

The fetal seed box is sacredly connected to the unborn child, and under normal circumstances, it should never be opened until birth.

But this was an emergency, and Ziye feared the worst—the fetal seed might already be lost. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud.

Qianlang and Beibei turned toward the human staff standing behind the preparation counter, their eyes filled with despair.

They didn’t want to open the box here. It wasn’t just the presence of others; the big humans looming nearby made them deeply uneasy.

Lu Yao stood up from her seat behind the counter and spoke decisively. “Zhu Zhou, prepare a private room for them. Ziye, take them upstairs.”

After giving her instructions, she turned toward the human staff. “You’re off this afternoon. Feel free to leave early.”

Her swift reaction caught Bai Lu off guard, and it took her a moment to realize Lu Yao’s intention.

Ji Qingyan and Zheng Ziyang, however, were already up and heading out, though they didn’t plan to leave. They carried their sketches for the cable car project to another shop to continue working.

Bai Lu followed them to the entrance and watched as they headed toward the pet cafe before deciding to tag along.

Soon, the inn was quiet, with only Lu Yao and Budu, who was napping in the icehouse, remaining behind. Lu Yao headed to the kitchen, intending to take a much-needed nap in her room.

“Shopkeeper,” Ziye called out, stopping her.

She turned slightly, her gaze questioning: What is it?

Ziye hesitated, his lips moving faintly before he finally forced out the words. “The Yangju Flower—can you lend it to me?”

“Sure,” Lu Yao replied softly. She went to the glass flowerhouse behind the Rose Room and retrieved a tea bowl containing the Yangju Flower, handing it to Ziye.

Those who had visited the Shenmu Tribe recognized the flower immediately. It only grew near the temple, and they couldn’t understand how Lu Yao had one.

Ziye, however, didn’t have time to ask questions. He accepted the flower and entered the guest room with Qianlang and Beibei, shutting the door behind them.

Outside, the other little people lingered in restless silence. Jiexiang, feeling bored, grabbed Lu Yao’s pinky finger and gently swayed it. “When did you plant flowers behind the Rose Room?”

“Just recently,” Lu Yao replied.

Xia Yin stared at her intently. “How do you have the Yangju Flower?”

Lu Yao answered matter-of-factly, “I got it by chance.”

Xia Yin frowned. “That flower only grows near the temple.”

Lu Yao blinked, realizing, “No wonder Ziye asked about it the other day. I wasn’t lying; it truly was a coincidence.”

The atmosphere turned tense as Xia Yin’s expression darkened.

Jiexiang quickly changed the subject. “What else have you planted in the flowerhouse?”

“Nothing much,” Lu Yao said. “The flower seedlings I ordered haven’t arrived yet. Other than the Yangju Flower, there are just a few acorus plants.”

In an instant, the little people snapped their gazes toward Lu Yao, their eyes wide and shining like tiny bells.

Jiexiang spoke each word deliberately. “You. Said. What. Else?”

“Acorus,” Lu Yao repeated calmly.

At that moment, the fourth-floor guestroom door opened, and the sound of heartbroken sobs drifted down the staircase.

Ziye stepped out and met Lu Yao’s gaze, shaking his head with a somber expression. “The fetal seed’s outer membrane is pale, there’s no heartbeat, and even Yangju Flower dew didn’t work.”

The fetal seed was gone.

The little people below had already guessed the outcome from the sobbing, their expressions turning blank and helpless.

Suddenly, the door upstairs slammed open, and Qianlang stormed out, leaning against the railing with a ferocious glare at Lu Yao.

“It’s you! It has to be you! Our fetal seed was fine on the road, but after staying at your inn for one night, this happened!”

“It’s my fault for believing those two from the Shenmu Tribe. If we hadn’t come to Thorn Valley, if we hadn’t trusted the humans, if we hadn’t stayed at this inn, our fetal seed wouldn’t have died!”

Qianlang was distraught, consumed by grief, and utterly irrational.

Hearing his cries, Beibei ran out, joining him at the railing to hurl accusations at Lu Yao.

The inn became oppressive, like a suffocating iron box.

Heici covered his ears and squatted down, closing his eyes and shouting, “Stop arguing! It’s your own fault for not protecting it!”

The shouting halted abruptly as if seized by an invisible force.

Qianlang and Beibei collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads in agony.

Ziye took a deep breath, his voice steady and firm. “Your fetal seed … was weak from the start. This has nothing to do with the inn or the humans.”

The sobbing grew more heartbreaking, and even the little people waiting downstairs began to shed large tears.

For the Nitean smallfolk, a fetal seed was of immense importance. Even if it wasn’t their own, witnessing the death of one before their eyes was unbearable.

The couples Yuanwei and Zhu Zhou, as well as Xia yin and Fengqin, had all gone to the temple to request a fetal seed before but were denied.

Qianlang and Beibei, who had been fortunate enough to receive one, failed to protect it.

Their emotions were a tangled web of sorrow and bitterness.

Puddles of tears quickly accumulated on the windowsills. Lu Yao raised her hand to press her temples, opened her eyes, and said evenly, “Why not let me see the fetal seed?”

She looked directly at Ziye, ignoring everyone else.

Qianlang and Beibei were no longer capable of making decisions.

Ziye froze, his hands at his sides clenching and releasing as he exhaled slowly. He turned and went back into the room, returning with the now-open fetal seed box.

When Qianlang and Beibei saw this, they desperately tried to stop him, but their limbs were weak and unresponsive.

Lu Yao reached out and gently held them down, her voice soft and steady. “Don’t cry. Let me take a look. I’ll do my best to save it.”

Her tone was calm, as if she were about to perform the simplest of tasks.

The crying ceased abruptly. The smallfolk tilted their heads back, gazing at her with awe, as though they were in the presence of a deity.

Even Qianlang and Beibei stopped their weeping, staring at her with a mixture of astonishment and fragile hope.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 39: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Lu Yao rested at the doorway for a while before getting up and heading back into the shop.

At the entrance, she crouched down, examined the doorway closely, and then called over the little people scattered under the eaves. Gesturing to the doorway, she said, “With more staff and guests around, I’m always worried about accidentally stepping on you. I’m thinking of moving the small doors to the sides—two on the left and two on the right. This way, you can walk along the walls and be safer when entering.”

The little people tilted their heads back, staring blankly at Lu Yao, their blueberry-like eyes blinking: Whatever you say is fine; we don’t understand it anyway.

Lu Yao extended a finger and poked them one by one, sending them toppling onto the ground, before standing up and heading inside. “Never mind, I’ll discuss it with Xiao Zheng. You guys go play.”

Returning to the shop, Lu Yao brought the measurements and photos to Ji Qingyan and Xiao Zheng.

“I think installing the cable system on this tree would be best,” she said, pointing to a specific tree in the photos. “It’s opposite the flower tree at Jiexiang’s house, but it’s thicker, taller, and has sturdier branches with no little people living on it.”

Ji Qingyan looked at the photo and asked, “Where would the other end of the cable system go on the inn’s side?”

“It needs to be on flat ground, but with a slight slope,” Lu Yao replied, pointing to a picture of an open space in front of the inn. “This spot works—building a platform here for the cable system avoids the train tracks and main road, while keeping it in our line of sight. If any guests run into trouble, we can spot them immediately from the inn entrance.”

The Thorn Valley felt like an undeveloped amusement park centered around the inn, with facilities steadily expanding outward. The main roads and tracks were being completed; the land on the right of the inn was reserved for little people’s residences, while the train tracks began on the left, surrounded by flower gardens and trees. Small usable spaces between pathways were gradually being filled with functional structures.

With detailed imagery and data on the terrain and surroundings, Ji Qingyan and Xiao Zheng’s job was to design the cable system, pulley mechanisms, cabins, and cables. They would break the designs down into parts and data, then draft blueprints.

Lu Yao would take their blueprints, shape the components by hand, test for safety and functionality, and then mass-produce and assemble them to complete the build.

A short meeting ended up lasting over an hour, entirely focused on the “toy” cable car.

While taking meeting notes, Bai Lu couldn’t help but comment, “We don’t feel like an inn anymore. We’re more like a toy company.”

Ji Qingyan laughed. “We’re developing a product right now. This is just the prototype. Who knows, we might eventually mass-produce it and sell it to miniature model enthusiasts.”

Xiao Zheng added, “If we manage to get this cable car working the way the boss envisions, and shrink the model slightly, there’s definitely a market for it.”

If the system could run fully automatically, it would definitely attract buyers as a toy.

Lu Yao frowned thoughtfully, then said slowly, “That’s not a bad idea.”

The staff stared at her wide-eyed.

We were just joking—don’t take it seriously!

Lu Yao rested her chin on one hand, leaning on the armrest. “Besides the shopping street and Nitean Continent, this type of toy could sell in other worlds too. Once things settle down here, I might try posting a custom order notice in the Childhood Tutoring Center. If we get preorders, we can sell a few.”

Sales within the shopping street weren’t considered yet due to current restrictions, but Lu Yao’s mind was clearly spinning with possibilities.

The three human staff members looked at her in stunned silence. The plan seemed feasible—Lu Yao’s brain really worked fast.

Unlike Lu Yao, who wasn’t overly excited due to the lack of immediate benefits in her world, the staff’s enthusiasm surged. Just imagining their work being recognized and appreciated in another world was enough to make them as giddy as children.

Bai Lu couldn’t hold back. “Boss, when the time comes, can I help you decorate the cable car cabins?”

Lu Yao: “Of course.”

After finishing the key discussion on the cable car plans, Lu Yao remembered her earlier idea at the entrance.

“Oh, one more thing. The number of guests at the inn is growing, and while everyone is careful when coming and going, I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not a long-term solution. I want to move the guest passageway to the sides, adding another door on each side. Additionally, I plan to build a transparent walkway along the walls for the little guests to use safely.”

The inn’s entrance has a miniature brick path to the left and a wall to the right.

Lu Yao had already opened a door in that wall leading to a different space—the newly constructed large hot spring area. For little guests to reach the rooms on the other side, they currently need to go around the entire wall.

With the grand hot spring area about to open and VIP booking channels launching on the intranet, there would soon be larger human guests visiting. Lu Yao was concerned this might inconvenience the little guests and wanted to create a dedicated safe passageway for them.

The transparent walkway Lu Yao envisioned was somewhat like a hamster tube system.

Bai Lu suddenly chimed in, “Is it like the deep-sea tunnel at the pet cafe? Just a smaller version? Those are so fun!”

Bai Lu recalled her first visit to the Little Pet Cafe, where she was struck by the transparent deep-sea tunnel. Walking through it and arriving at the whale room, seeing a piano paired with whale songs echoing from the depths—it was a truly magical experience.

Ji Qingyan and Xiao Zheng remembered it too, quickly understanding what Lu Yao meant.

Lu Yao: “Exactly. At the entrance, we need to add walkways and railings. On the wall, we’ll build suspended safe passages, and we’ll connect the two guesthouse areas with an aerial circular bridge.”

Ji Qingyan was stunned as she listened. “Are you building a new world in this inn?”

Lu Yao: “Might as well do it right if we’re doing it at all. If my partner wasn’t away on a trip, it would’ve been done in a day.”

For the nth time, the shopkeeper missed her efficient Dream Fulfillment System.

Ji Qingyan, Xiao Zheng, and Bai Lu: … The boss’s friends are all extraordinary.

Outside the inn, the little people rested under the eaves, waiting for Jiexiang and Ziye to drop off their belongings at the dormitory before joining them to inspect their “self-built” plots of land.

Xia Yin and Fengqin, having nothing to do, ended up following them.

On the right side of the inn, a large flat area had several irregular circles outlined with pebbles, each with white text in the middle.

Xia Yin squinted and realized the markings were names.

Most of the pebble circles had nothing special about them, except for Heici’s, which already had trenches dug.

The little people ran from their plots over to Heici’s, gazing in admiration.

“Heici’s house is already laying the foundation.”

“What does laying the foundation mean?”

“I don’t know, Lu Yao dug it for him.”

“Didn’t Heici want a jar-shaped house? Why does it need a pit?”

“No idea, but you can’t go wrong listening to Lu Yao.”

“When it’s my turn to build, will we need to dig a pit too?”

Xia Yin stood behind them, listening with an increasingly puzzled expression. Were these people planning to settle near the inn?

She couldn’t hold back and walked over to interrupt. “What are you all doing?”

Jie Xiang: “Oh, are you the new guests?”

Hudie: “We’re discussing house-building.”

Xia Yin: “You’re planning to live here?”

A’dai: “Yes, Lu Yao assigned us plots of land and promised to help us build houses.”

Xia Yin snorted coldly. “And you trust that big human so easily?”

Aren’t you worried she’ll suddenly change her mind?

That big human was strange too—why would she willingly take in these homeless wanderers?

To Xia Yin, “home” meant one’s tribe. Choosing to unite with outsiders from other tribes meant cutting ties with the place one once called home.

Hudie glanced at Fengqin, standing behind Xia Yin. “That one behind you, is he your partner?”

Xia Yin: “So what if he is?”

Hudie: “My partner is also from the Xiaguang tribe. We’re the same as you. The tribe didn’t accept us, but Lu Yao did. She’s allowing us to stay here. Not just me and Jiegeng, but also A’dai and Jinjin, Jiexiang and Ziye, Yuanwei and Zhu Zhou—they’re all staying here. And perhaps in the future, more mixed-tribe couples will come too.”

This place might even grow into a new tribe, inclusive of all types of little people. By then, they would have the confidence to go to the Shenmu tribe and request fetal seed.

Even with mixed-tribe partners, they’d have the strength to protect their children.

Xia Yin glanced at Hudie in surprise, then her thoughts turned to fetal seed. Her expression darkened. She muttered something under her breath before turning and pulling Fengqin away.

Hudie didn’t catch it and turned to Jiexiang. “What did she say?”

Jiexiang shook her head. “I didn’t hear.”

A’dai offered, “She seemed to say, ‘It’s too late.'”

What exactly was “too late”?

No one knew.

Ziye stared absently in the direction the couple had left.

Jiexiang puffed her cheeks, tugged forcefully at his sleeve, and snapped, “You’re still looking?”

Ziye snapped back to reality, his gaze dropping as he quickly concealed his thoughts. “I wasn’t.”

Jiexiang was furious. “You’re lying.”

Ziye admitted defeat. “…I was wrong.”

Jiexiang became even angrier. “Who were you looking at from that pair?”

Ziye hesitated. “…No one. I saw Zhu Zhou’s train approaching and was about to ask if you wanted to go for a ride, but I happened to notice them boarding.”

Jiexiang calmed down. “Okay. I want to ride the train.”

Ziye, quick to appease, said, “Let’s wait for the next one.”

Hand in hand, they walked toward the station sign at the entrance, leaving their friends behind, stunned and speechless.

…

In the first carriage of the train, Xia Yin and Fengqin sat across from each other.

Fengqin poured Xia Yin a cup of hot water. Outside the window, the scenery flew by. “Honestly, this place is amazing. Big humans look clumsy and awkward, yet they can create such magical tools.”

Xia Yin held the cup, the chill in her palms gradually replaced by warmth. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t accept it.”

Fengqin shook his head. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. If you hadn’t become my partner—”

Xia Yin covered his mouth, tears welling in her eyes. She shook her head. “I’ve never regretted becoming your partner.”

…

The story of Xia Yin and Fengqin was simple: the daughter of the tribal chief fell in love with a down-and-out wanderer. Despite her family’s objections, she insisted on forming a bond and leaving home.

As the chief’s daughter, Xia Yin had been cherished from birth. Little people her age in the tribe all adored her.

When she came of age, the line of those wanting to become her partner stretched from the chief’s house to the edge of the territory.

But Xia Yin didn’t care for any of them—until she met Fengqin, a wanderer from the Xiaguang tribe, fifteen years her senior.

Xia Yin fell in love with Fengqin at first sight.

In the world of big humans, this might be a rare occurrence, but in the world of Nitean little people, such encounters were simpler. When you met someone who matched your heart, you held on tightly.

They shared their feelings, informed their families, packed their belongings, and left their tribes.

Xia Yin and Fengqin had been journeying together, traveling through many lands.

This year, they finally found a stable place to settle.

Believing the time was right, they decided to visit the Shenmu tribe.

Unexpectedly, at the borders of the Shenmu territory, they encountered someone from Xia Yin’s past tribe.

Qian Lang, who had once expressed his wish to form a bond with Xia Yin.

Bei Bei, Xia Yin’s childhood friend.

Even now, recalling the awkward reunion a few days ago made Xia Yin cringe.

To make matters worse, a few days later, Qian Lang and Bei Bei successfully obtained a fetal seed from the Shenmu Temple, while Xia Yin and Fengqin were rejected.

Leaving the Shenmu tribe, the two pairs somehow found themselves traveling the same route and ending up at the inn.

Xia Yin’s mood had been sour ever since.

…

In the valley, Zhu Zhou drove the miniature train, circling the area. After a full round, he picked up Jiexiang, Ziye, Hudie, and A’dai, completing three loops around the valley before the lunch hour.

When the train returned to the inn, the guests began heading back.

Jiexiang noticed Xia Yin and Fengqin lagging behind and invited them to join for lunch.

Before Xia Yin could refuse, Jiexiang had already grabbed her arm enthusiastically. “Come on! Food tastes better when there’s a crowd!”

Ziye, forced to walk behind, glared intently at Jiexiang’s hand wrapped around Xia Yin’s arm.

Fengqin looked completely baffled.

…

The little guests gathered in the dining hall of the blue brick guesthouse for lunch.

The menu featured a new dish: curry pork cutlet rice, pickled ginger slices, and shredded white radish beef soup.

Xiao Zheng had put great care into the preparation. The miniature pork cutlets and rice were served on plates the size of medicine bottle caps, drenched in a rich, golden-yellow curry sauce. The aroma of the fragrant spices, paired with a hint of coconut milk, filled the room.

Fengqin stared at the food on his plate, hesitant to dig in.

As a gourmet from the Xiaguang tribe, he had impressed Xia Yin with his culinary skills countless times over the years.

The dinner last night and breakfast this morning had been decent, but this odd-looking yellow dish failed to entice him.

Across from him, Jiegeng had already finished his plate, his cheeks puffed with rice as he shouted indistinctly, “More!”

Noticing Fengqin’s skeptical expression, Jiegeng gestured enthusiastically, “Eat it! It’s delicious!”

Even Xia Yin put down her plate and called out, “Another plate, please!”

“…”

Fengqin slowly picked up the tiny wooden spoon, scooped a bite of rice coated in curry sauce, and put it in his mouth. Then he froze.

After a long moment, he began chewing nonchalantly, lifting his gaze only to meet Jiegeng’s overly excited expression.

Fengqin: “…”

Jiegeng wasn’t about to let him off. “Well? Is it good?”

Fengqin looked away. “…It’s okay.”

Jiegeng leaned toward Hudie, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, “I hope he stays this stubborn forever.”

Hudie glanced atFengqin and nudged Jiegeng. “There’s a grain of rice on his mouth.”

Fengqin gripped his spoon tightly: “…”

…

The cheerful lunch passed quickly.

In the afternoon, dark clouds gathered ominously, signaling an approaching storm.

Lu Yao sat by a window, adjusting components for the hot spring guestroom, while Ji Qingyan and Xiao Zheng worked on parts for the cable car. Bai Lu managed the guests, who idly lounged on the steps of the Rose Garden House, dozing in the heavy air.

Bai Lu suggested they nap in their rooms, but they ignored her.

“Boom—”

A sudden crack of thunder startled Jiexiang, who leapt into ZiYe’s arms.

The little guests all huddled together like frightened potatoes, trembling on the steps.

Rain began to pour in heavy sheets.

The inn’s small door was flung open, and two soaked little people stumbled in, shouting desperately:

“Temple Knights, please help us!”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 38: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Jiexiang and Ziye spent another day at the inn yesterday, dreading the thought of the long, uphill trek back home.

It had taken them half a day to descend from their mountaintop home to meet Lu Yao, and climbing back would mean setting off at dusk and only reaching home by midnight, with another early start the following day to descend again.

Lu Yao had offered to take them home, but since their new house wasn’t ready yet, Jiexiang and Ziye preferred to return to their home on the hot spring flower tree. However, it wasn’t feasible for Lu Yao to escort them back every time.

Though rooms were available at the dormitory, outside their shifts, the two still longed for the comfort of their own home. The inn’s lively atmosphere was enjoyable during work hours, but returning to their personal space offered a different kind of peace.

Lu Yao’s problem-solving instincts kicked in as she listened to Jiexiang and Ziye’s concerns, envisioning whether the height difference between the hot spring on the mountainside and the inn could support a miniature cable car system for the little people.

While the altitude wasn’t sufficient for a human-sized cable car, it was perfectly manageable for the small-scale Nitean version.

When she casually brought it up, Jiexiang and Ziye were overjoyed, and their excitement spread to the other little ones.

Once the idea caught on, backing out would only lead to the infamous Nitean nine-tiered barrage of pleading.

Knowing she wouldn’t withstand their persuasion anyway, Lu Yao resigned herself to the task.

However, with most of her school-learned physics long forgotten, she initially planned to cram by watching tutorial videos late into the night.

That changed when Bai Lu let slip that Ji Qingyan and Xiao Zheng were both science prodigies, albeit in different fields.

Lu Yao happily handed over the task of designing the pulley system and cable car setup to the two of them.

The miniature cable car didn’t require the complexity of its full-scale counterpart. The pulleys and cable mechanism were simplified, and Lu Yao decided to enhance safety using magic. Hextech wasn’t just a buzzword—it was a way of life.

This morning’s outing primarily involved measuring the slope, determining positions and heights for the pulleys and cables, and estimating the steel cable’s length.

During working hours, the little staff couldn’t accompany Lu Yao.

On this day, as two suns began to grace the Nitean skies, Budu also couldn’t venture out.

Lu Yao carried her trusty back basket, joined by Jiexiang, Ziye, Hudie, and A’dai couples.

As they climbed the mountain, the six little ones sat in the basket chatting.

While Lu Yao busied herself on the mountain, Jiexiang hosted Hudie, Jiegeng, A’dai, and Jinjin at the tree hollow home she had shared with Ziye for the past three years.

Hosting visitors for the first time in their tree hollow, Jiexiang was so thrilled she secretly clung to Ziye and cried.

The hollow wasn’t very spacious—when six little people sat in a circle, they took up most of the room, leaving barely enough space for one to walk around.

When Jiexiang and Ziye chose this hollow as their home, they valued its safety and warmth, which were perfectly suited for two.

If they ever planned to seek a fetal seed, however, they would need to move to a bigger place.

Jiexiang hadn’t given much thought to this, and Ziye hadn’t brought it up either.

After the little group had their fill of fun, they finally remembered Lu Yao and hurried out of the hollow to find her.

Lu Yao was still working under the tree, covered in sweat.

Perched on thin branches just below their tree hollow, the little ones sat in a row, legs dangling, watching the towering human intently.

Looking up, Lu Yao saw petals fluttering like confetti amid the swaying flowers and leaves. Beneath the pink canopy, the little ones sat in neat rows, their faces beaming like blossoms.

Taking a deep breath, she bent down, retrieved lunchboxes from her basket, and passed them up, giving each of them a small rice ball before hanging a water flask on a tree branch.

As the little ones happily gnawed on their rice balls, Lu Yao quietly fished her phone out of her pocket.

She used to wonder why some people seemed to document every mundane detail of their lives. But after meeting the Nitean little people…

Lu Yao, satisfied with the photos she had taken, put away her phone. Finding a flat rock, she sat down, pulled out a triangular rice ball from her lunchbox, and said, “Finish your food, sit for a little while, and then we’ll head back.”

Jiexiang asked, “Are you done with your work?”

Lu Yao nodded. “Yeah, almost.”

Hudie asked excitedly, “Will the cable car be finished soon?”

Lu Yao shook her head, smiling. “The preparations are mostly done, but I need to discuss it further with Qingyan and Xiao Zheng. Once the components are ready, it’ll probably take two or three days.”

She figured that pre-made materials for a miniature cable car would either be hard to find or unsuitable for high-intensity outdoor use. Custom orders would take time and be expensive. So, Lu Yao decided to finalize the component specifications with her staff and make the molds herself.

Not in a factory—she planned to manually craft the molds.

The little ones didn’t fully understand this but looked up at her with awe-filled expressions nonetheless.

After packing up her tools, lunchbox, and water bottle, Lu Yao gently scooped the little ones back into the basket and started down the mountain toward the inn.

Since the cable car wasn’t ready yet, Jiexiang and Ziye, despite their reluctance, decided it wasn’t practical to commute between the mountaintop and the inn every day. They quickly packed a few belongings and planned to stay in the dormitory for a few days.

The housing construction schedule in Thorny Valley was lengthy. Jiexiang and Ziye were at the end of the list, with four other households ahead of them. Even though Lu Yao wanted to help them build their house, she was already busy with the inn. It would likely take at least two weeks before it was their turn. The cable car, therefore, was definitely necessary.

Would building a cable car for just two employees’ convenience be worth it?

Lu Yao thought it absolutely was.

Some measure value with money, others with time, and still others with emotional fulfillment. There are countless ways to measure worth. At that moment, for Lu Yao, the smiles of the Nitean little people made everything worthwhile.

Back at the inn, Xia Yin and Fengqin had just woken up.

They’d been awake for a while but lazed in bed, drained and listless. It wasn’t until the sunlight slipped through the thick, patterned curtains and stung their eyes that they reluctantly got up.

Heading downstairs, they didn’t see Lu Yao but noticed a few unfamiliar humans.

Neither curious nor fearful, they strolled into the dining hall to order breakfast.

Xiao Zheng, whose main work area was the large kitchen just steps away from the Rose Garden House, was prepping lunch ingredients. When the golden service bell rang for the first time, he set down his knife, washed his hands, and went to the dining hall to take the order. He also called out to Bai Lu to take a photo.

Since the Shopping Street App officially launched, the VIP tab had opened to customers.

VIP users could only access Shopping Street staff’s shared posts via the VIP tab, and every post from another world was a paid feature.

To ensure the VIP section remained active and high-quality, Lu Yao limited staff to sharing a maximum of three posts per day. Revenue generated by posts in the VIP section would also count toward employee performance bonuses under a supplementary agreement.

Because this performance metric was more like additional income rather than a formal evaluation tied to base salary, staff didn’t seem resistant to it. Instead, they eagerly put effort into crafting creative posts.

Though the internal network had just launched and the number of VIP users was fewer than twenty, resulting in negligible daily earnings, everyone still enjoyed the interactions.

Perhaps it was the novelty after being restricted by confidentiality contracts for so long, but both staff and customers loved using the platform to communicate.

Shareaholics like Bai Yi, VIP section, Ji Qingyan, and Zhou Su were in their element. So were the otherwordly staff from the nail salon, Lilly and Xue Ge from the blind box store, the digits staff from the cinema, and even the tutors from the Childhood Tutoring Center—Xu Xiaoxiao, Hu Jiao, Xie Molin, and 444—who all indulged their excessive urge to share.

Even with just three hours of internet access daily, it felt like a KPI race as everyone scrambled to post updates on the feed. They carefully selected the three most engaging posts to share on the VIP section, eagerly awaiting new rounds of attention, admiration, and envy.

In short, the VIP section was a place where it was all too easy to lose oneself. This applied equally to staff and customers.

After breakfast, Xia Yin and Fengqin decided to go out for a walk.

The two Nitean little people from the Shenmu tribe had praised the inn to the heavens, describing it as otherworldly. After staying a night, Xia Yin and Fengqin had indeed experienced many extraordinary things.

However, their mood was too heavy to fully immerse themselves in the beauty of it all.

They asked Xiao Zheng about Qian Lang and Bei Bei, learning that the pair had checked out early in the morning. Feeling unbothered, they stepped outside.

At the entrance, they ran into Lu Yao, who had just returned.

She set down her backpack under the eaves, and the little ones inside began climbing out through the gaps, puffing and panting.

Jiexiang and Ziye were carrying bundles on their backs and sweating profusely as they climbed out. Lu Yao reached in and lifted them out with ease.

Far from being frightened, the two swung their arms and legs in the air, laughing heartily.

Xia Yin silently observed the scene, her brows furrowing. “Do you think they know about the matter of the fetal seed?”

Fengqin sighed. “They probably don’t. But even if they did, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 37: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

At the entrance, four Nitean small people stood in two pairs, each leading a long-haired ox.

One of them appeared to be from the Xiaguang tribe, while the other three seemed unfamiliar to Lu Yao.

Their skin was slightly dark, wrapped in deep green cloaks, and under the light, strange iridescent hues shimmered on their cheeks.

Among them, the woman standing beside the Xiaguang tribesman had silvery-purple hues on her cheeks, resembling tiny, delicate scales.

The other two small people, whose scales reflected pale green light, were likely from the coastal Black Rock tribe.

Hudie also had similar scales on her arms, but perhaps because she was of mixed blood, her cheeks didn’t bear these distinct features.

Lu Yao observed them. Despite their initial wide-eyed reaction and dilated pupils, they managed to suppress their instinctive fear and didn’t behave rudely.

It was evident they knew of the inn and of Lu Yao herself.

Lu Yao’s attention shifted to the two Black Rock small people standing at the back, who seemed slightly uneasy. Their long-haired ox carried a peculiar box.

The wooden box was perfectly square, devoid of any patterns on its surface, with a ring of small holes at the top.

What stood out was how carefully the box was strapped—not casually tied but cradled in a beast-hide sling and securely fastened to the ox’s back.

It seemed significant, though its purpose was unclear.

“We’d like to stay at the inn,” the male Xiaguang tribesman spoke up.

Zhu Zhou descended via the lift and jogged over to Lu Yao. “I’ll handle it.”

Zhu Zhou skillfully guided the four guests to the currency exchange machine and explained the inn’s check-in procedure.

The male Xiaguang tribesman introduced himself as Feng Qin, and his female companion with silvery-purple scales was named Xia Yin.

The other pair, also a couple, were indeed from the Black Rock tribe as Lu Yao had guessed.

The man was named Qian Lang, and the woman, Bei Bei.

When Lu Yao offered to lead their long-haired ox to the stable, Qian Lang and Bei Bei were visibly tense and refused to let her near.

Only after carefully removing the box from the ox’s back themselves did they allow her to take the animals away.

It was clear that the box was of immense importance.

Qian Lang and Bei Bei were assigned to Room 402 in the vintage guesthouse block.

After Zhu Zhou escorted them to their room, Xia Yin bluntly stated, “I don’t want to stay near them. Is there somewhere quieter?”

Zhu Zhou replied earnestly, “Our guest rooms are well-insulated; you won’t hear other guests from your room.”

Xia Yin’s expression remained cold. Feng Qin gently placed an arm around her shoulders, patting them in a soothing gesture before turning to Zhu Zhou. “Then put us in the room furthest from them.”

Zhu Zhou thought for a moment. “That would be in Block Three, the furthest from Block One.”

Just then, Lu Yao emerged from the kitchen and interrupted. “If you prefer peace and quiet, the Rose Garden House has vacant rooms.”

Rose Garden House?

Xia Yin and Feng Qin exchanged glances and then looked at Lu Yao. “We’ll take that.”

Lu Yao personally led them to the Rose Garden House, with Zhu Zhou trailing behind out of curiosity.

The Rose Garden House had just been completed that evening, and every small person in the inn had rushed to see it.

It was an extraordinarily beautiful little building, so much so that Zhu Zhou and Yuan Wei thought it might rival the godly temple of the Shenmu tribe.

Xia Yin and Feng Qin had no idea what to expect from the so-called Rose Garden House. Their decision was purely emotional, wanting to stay far from the guests in Room 402.

The three green-brick buildings were neat and elegant, so the Rose Garden House surely wouldn’t disappoint.

With a mindset of “it doesn’t really matter,” Xia Yin and Feng Qin followed Lu Yao.

The guests’ luggage was placed on a mini foldable cart, which Lu Yao easily pushed along with a single finger.

They passed the green-brick buildings and the mini cinema before stopping in front of a light blue domed castle.

This guesthouse had only three floors. The first floor included a tea lounge, dining room, art studio, reading room, kitchen, and cleaning room. At the back was a row of glasshouses intended for planting flowers, which would eventually become a floral greenhouse.

For now, the greenhouse was empty, and none of the inn’s small guests had visited it yet.

The second and third floors were guest rooms. The second floor housed 12 small suites for up to 13 guests, while the third floor had six larger suites that could accommodate up to 26.

Inside, there were three spiral staircases leading upstairs and seven elevators strategically placed throughout.

Lu Yao had enlisted Bai Lu to decorate the exterior. The intricate relief patterns on the walls and railings, along with a series of hanging paintings—oil, watercolor, egg-shell art, and dried-flower creations—added a refined touch. Despite their varied styles, the artworks surprisingly harmonized with each other.

The center of the blue-domed building featured a clock tower. A watch-sized clock face was embedded within the wall.

When constructing the clock tower, Lu Yao had discovered that the time on Nitean Continent differed from that of the store’s world.

In conversion, one day on the Nitean Continent equaled 16 hours in the store’s time system.

Thus, the inn’s clock tower displayed a custom face aligned with Nitean Continent’s time, specially designed by Edward at Lu Yao’s request.

Edward and Ambrose, who had studied otherworldly time systems, had even privately discussed these time discrepancies, as Alexander Continent’s time system also differed greatly from the store’s.

The golden clock face embedded in the pristine white wall, paired with the light blue dome, elegant relief carvings, and unique paintings, made the castle-like building extraordinarily luxurious.

Xia Yin and Feng Qin stood at the foot of the stairs, gazing upward in stunned silence.

Zhu Zhou, waiting for some reaction, couldn’t help but remark, “This guesthouse opened just this evening. You are the very first guests to stay here.”

After spending time with the human staff, the small people had picked up common human phrases like “open” and “check-in.”

Xia Yin and Feng Qin indeed appeared surprised, a faint glimmer lighting their eyes as their moods lifted.

Zhu Zhou felt slightly impatient—why were they so calm?

When Lu Yao had shown the staff the newly completed guesthouse earlier that day, everyone had been astonished.

It was as if it had shattered every prior notion the Nitean small people had about housing.

This creation, seemingly the work of gods, was generously opened to all.

Hudie and A’Dai had immediately clamored to switch rooms, eager to move into the Rose Garden House, only to be reluctantly persuaded otherwise by Lu Yao.

Later, they changed their minds again, requesting adjustments to their current rooms. It had taken Lu Yao until late at night to appease them all.

Now, Lu Yao handed a key to Xia Yin and said, “Your room is 203. Zhu Zhou will escort you upstairs.”

Ascending the steps, they paused at the entrance, where a “large” oil painting hung on the central wall. Its bold and passionate colors naturally drew attention from any viewer.

Lu Yao explained, “This is a rose.”

Xia Yin was surprised. “A rose is a flower?”

Lu Yao nodded. “Yes.”

Xia Yin gazed at it, seemingly lost in thought. “What a fiery flower. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Lu Yao smiled. “Tomorrow, I’ll bring some to the inn for you to admire.”

Xia Yin nodded, the sorrow between her brows easing slightly.

The corridors and staircases were lined with thick, soft carpets, a detail unnoticed until they entered.

The second-floor corridor showcased a different collection of wall art, offering an entirely new experience at every turn.

At Room 203, Zhu Zhou set down their luggage and invited the guests to open the door.

The room’s interior was decorated in a classic European style. The dark carpet appeared understated at first glance, but upon closer inspection, its intricate patterns and faint golden shimmer revealed its luxurious craftsmanship.

Entering from the entrance, the crystal chandelier on the ceiling sparkled like gemstones, with each tassel shimmering under the light.

The glow reflected off the set of European leather sofas, the lace-covered tea table, and the grand canopy bed, continuously drawing the guests’ attention.

Finally seeing surprise, hesitation, and uncontrollable admiration in the guests’ eyes, Zhu Zhou felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

As usual, he politely redirected their focus and carefully explained the basic amenities in the room. With a composed expression, he excused himself, saying, “I’ll deliver your meal later.”

Downstairs, Zhu Zhou bolted toward the green-brick building and leaned against the kitchen door, brimming with gossip. “Ah Yuan, the Rose Garden House has its first guests. You should’ve seen their expressions when they entered the room…”

Yuanwei couldn’t help but laugh as she listened to Zhu Zhou’s storytelling.

The two had seen the Rose Garden House open for the first time earlier that day, and their reactions had been even more amusing than the guests’.

Though inexperienced, even they knew the Rose Garden House was exceptionally beautiful.

Yuanwei finished preparing meals for four and delivered them upstairs, while Zhu Zhou took a tray to the Rose Garden House.

In Room 402 of the green-brick building, Qian Lang and Beibei, having bathed, sat on the bed, nervously staring at the box placed in the middle.

At the sound of a knock, both startled.

Qian Lang got up, opened the door, and glanced toward the adjacent room before turning to Yuanwei and casually asking, “Where are the other two?”

Yuanwei: “?”

Qian Lang clarified, “The two who came to the inn with us.”

Yuanwei replied, “They’re staying in another guesthouse.”

After delivering the meals and returning to the kitchen, Yuanwei began tidying up.

A few minutes later, Zhu Zhou returned to help her finish the closing tasks.

Lu Yao, having bathed and changed, saw them still busy and pulled up a chair to listen to their conversation.

Yuanwei speculated, “Do you think the guests upstairs know the ones in the Rose Garden House?”

Zhu Zhou nodded. “Three of the four guests are from the Blackrock Tribe. Judging from the behavior of the guests in 203, they probably know each other.”

Yuanwei recounted how Qian Lang had reacted while collecting his meal and whispered, “They brought a fetal seed with them and are staying at the inn together. Could they all have come from the Shenmu Tribe?”

Zhu Zhou, deep in thought, agreed. Then, with a slightly dejected expression, he added, “The 402 guests managed to obtain a fetal seed, but the ones in 203 didn’t—just like what happened to us.”

That would explain why the 203 guests didn’t want to be near the 402 guests. Just seeing them might be unbearable.

Lu Yao pushed the small kitchen door open a crack with her finger, poking her head through. “The box with the 402 guests—is that holding a fetal seed?”

Yuanwei and Zhu Zhou turned to see their boss, mouth open wide enough to reveal her tonsils.

The two weren’t the least bit scared, worried instead that she couldn’t hear them, as they leaned against the door and started chatting.

Yuanwei said, “It’s that box. Back when Huxi and Yin’er came out of the temple, they were carrying the same kind of box.”

The next day, at the break of dawn, Lu Yao woke up earlier than usual, likely due to some trivial matters weighing on her mind.

She was quite curious about the fetal seeds of the Nitean little people, but according to Yuanwei, the guests in Room 402 would never let her see them.

After performing the Iris Ceremony, Nitean couples would live together and then travel to the Shenmu Tribe when the time felt right for both.

If they were fortunate enough to obtain a fetal seed, they would return to their tribe as quickly and safely as possible.

During the incubation period, the couple would remain highly vigilant. Before the child’s birth, no one else was allowed to see or touch their fetal seed.

This mysterious and unique reproductive method of the Nitean little people fascinated Lu Yao.

After washing up, she put the matter aside for now. She took out some sweet flag flower seedlings and a few adorable clay flowerpots from her portable storage.

The mini clay pots were the “masterpieces” of her human staff, each reflecting their individual tastes and quirks.

Flower soil, fertilizer, and miniature trowels were arranged neatly under the eaves. Lu Yao carefully transplanted three sweet flag seedlings using a method she had recently learned.

The tiny seedlings, planted in pots the size of lipstick caps, were even more endearing than succulents.

Lu Yao opened the window and placed the three sweet flag pots directly into the glass greenhouse.

Since both Yangju and the Acorus were solitary seedlings, she cast a duplication spell before planting them as a precaution.

However, something interesting happened—neither plant could be duplicated. This meant they were truly unique in this world.

She placed the Yangju in one teacup and the Acorus in another. After adding soil and water, she set them both in the greenhouse, silently hoping they would sprout on their own.

If the system were still active, it would’ve already started grumbling: “Unique and precious seeds, and you just buried them like that? No ceremony at all? You’ll regret this.”

No one in the inn knew that the boss had quietly planted some flowers in the greenhouse. The morning began as usual—with a joyful breakfast.

After breakfast, the little staff urged Lu Yao to head out.

Yesterday, she had mentioned wanting to build a new facility between the hot spring flower tree on the mountain and the inn.

Though the little ones didn’t quite understand what she meant, it didn’t stop them from eagerly anticipating it all night.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 36: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Lu Yao thought for a moment, then took out the Acorus from her portable storage. “Is this also a plant from the forbidden garden?”

Ziye’s eyes widened. “Acorus? Where did you get that?”

The Acorus, like the Yangju, was a tiny plant, distinct from the typical flora of the Nitean continent. The flowers, trees, and grasses here were all normal-sized, and miniature plants like these had only ever appeared as part of the system’s early rewards.

Lu Yao placed the Yangju and Acorus together. “Are they both medicinal?”

Ziye lowered his gaze and remained silent.

The forbidden garden behind the sacred temple was home to many Acorus, but like the Yangju, only the Shenmu tribe could access them.

How had Lu Yao, who had never been to the Shenmu tribe, managed to acquire both the Yangju and the Acorus?

Did she truly not know their importance or purpose?

Ziye’s expression shifted, barely able to conceal his emotions.

Lu Yao quickly deduced that the Yangju and Acorus were of great significance to the Nitean little people.

Taking a deep breath, Ziye raised his head with great effort, trying to suppress his fear. “What do you intend to do with them?”

Lu Yao casually tossed the Yangju in the air, watching Ziye’s face pale in terror, then caught it smoothly. Her tone was light. “Honestly, I got these by accident and don’t really know what to do with them. I thought, since the Yangju smells tart, maybe I’d cook with it. But it’s so tiny, it wouldn’t amount to much.”

Ziye’s hands, resting at his sides, trembled faintly as he exclaimed, “Cook with it? How could you even think that? The Yangju, the Yangju is…”

The Yangju is…

But he dared not reveal more. Not even the little people from other tribes knew its secrets, much less a human.

Lu Yao asked, “Judging by what you’re saying, this fruit seems rare. Do you think it’s ripe?”

Ziye closed his eyes and nodded lightly.

Lu Yao continued, “Then it should have seeds. How about planting it?”

Ziye’s eyes snapped open. “You want to plant a Yangju tree?”

Lu Yao shrugged. “It’s just one fruit. What else am I supposed to do with it? I was thinking of planting some flowers and trees around the inn anyway. Might as well include this. I’d like to see what a Yangju tree looks like.”

Ziye’s tense shoulders gradually relaxed. “The entire fruit is a seed. Just toss it into the soil—don’t break it.”

Lu Yao nodded. “And what about the Acorus? What’s it for?”

Ziye explained, “The Acorus is the sacred flower of the Shenmu tribe. It only grows in our sacred temple’s territory.”

Among the little people’s tribes, only the Shenmu tribe never migrated, residing for generations within their sacred temple’s land. The Acorus exclusively grew around the temple.

“I see. Thank you for sharing such fascinating information.” Lu Yao stored the Yangju and Acorus away, deciding to look for gardening books later.

Ziye hesitated, then caught up with her. “When are you planning to plant it?”

Lu Yao replied, “No rush. I’ll need to make some preparations.”

Ziye quickly offered, “Let me take care of the Yangju tree when you do.”

Lu Yao frowned. “Why?”

Ziye stammered, “I… I saw my elders tending to Yangju trees before. I… have experience.”

He had seen Yangju trees before.

Someone who knew how to choose his words—he didn’t seem like the usual Nitean little people.

Lu Yao tilted her head. “Are you saying you want to work at the inn as a staff member?”

Before Ziye could answer, Jiexiang, who had been eavesdropping by the window, eagerly raised her hand. “Me, me, me! Lu Yao, I want to be a staff member too!”

The inn’s food had utterly won Jiexiang over. She had overheard the Red Pig tribe little people praising it, even claiming it was better than the Xiaguang tribe’s food. After discreetly asking Yuanwei for confirmation, she received a subtle but affirming answer. Jiexiang had been pondering how to ensure she could eat here often, and now she had an opportunity.

Lu Yao didn’t mind adding two little staff members to her team. Jiexiang and Ziye successfully secured their trial positions.

[System Notification: Lu Yao’s inn has reached 60% basic completion and successfully hosted 100 guests. Current task progress is at 65%. Keep up the good work, shopkeeper!]

The proxy bot’s formal voice suddenly sounded, causing Lu Yao to pause her task. Achieving the milestone of hosting 100 guests must have been due to the influx of the Red Pig Tribe.

Although they hadn’t stayed overnight, they had eaten the inn’s food, used the hot springs, and paid with goods, which apparently counted under the system’s criteria.

However, the progress was only 65%. Was it because the shop’s star rating hadn’t increased?

[Lu Yao’s inn has earned high praise from the Nitean little people, upgrading to a three-star shop. Reward: +10,000 popularity points, +100 oil stones. Keep up the good work, shopkeeper!]

[System Notification: Lu Yao’s inn has reached 60% basic completion, successfully hosted 100 guests, and upgraded to a three-star shop. Current task progress is now 75%. Keep up the good work, shopkeeper!]

Seventy-five percent already?

So it really was the star rating.

Lu Yao mused that once the Rose Garden House and Hot Spring Pavilion officially opened, the star rating might increase further.

The grand hot spring room was nearing completion, and Lu Yao was now brainstorming ideas for the hot spring guest rooms. She had a new concept in mind and decided to replace the old blueprints.

While sketching out designs for the components, Heici approached her. “Lu Yao, I want that big round jar in the kitchen.”

The glass jar leftover from the peach preserves the night before was originally headed for the trash. Xiao Zheng had suggested cleaning it and repurposing it as a storage jar, so it had been kept.

Why would Heici care about it?

Lu Yao asked, “What do you need it for?”

Heici, feeling shy, fidgeted with his clothes and lowered his head. “I like it—it feels like my old home.”

Lu Yao understood.

Heici wanted to use the jar as his home.

A thought suddenly struck her: like octopuses in the ocean, which sometimes squeeze into glass jars only to be caught by humans.

She recalled Zhu Zhou mentioning that during the blazing Sunshine Season, when three suns shone directly overhead, the ground was so hot it could fry an egg. Cooking meat on heated stones was common, and they had to wrap their feet in five layers of leaves to avoid burns.

Given the little people’s size, living in a glass jar during such heat would be unbearable—like roasting on a stone slab.

Lu Yao dared not imagine further and carefully chose her words. “Heici, that big jar isn’t suitable as a home. During Sunshine Season, it will get dangerously hot inside.”

Heici’s fluffy ears twitched, his teary eyes resembling freshly washed blueberries, making him even more endearing.

Lu Yao couldn’t resist, her heart softening. “I think I understand the kind of home you like. How about I help you build a jar-shaped house that stays cool during Sunshine Season? Look, even Beef Cube, with all that thick fur, couldn’t handle living in a jar.”

Heici pressed his lips together, silent.

During his time at the inn, memories of his long-lost parents, blurred by time, occasionally surfaced. In his years of living alone, he rarely thought of them—daily survival left no room for nostalgia.

But the inn was safe and warm, and Lu Yao was strong and fond of him.

Heici knew he shouldn’t be acting so spoiled, yet he couldn’t help it. Why couldn’t he use that jar as his home?

He thought Lu Yao would surely agree.

Lu Yao sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper. She quickly sketched a design and held it out to Heici. “Here, how about we build a home like this? It’s bigger and more spacious than the jar, with a small door here and a window here. Beef Cube can sleep with you too.”

Heici stared at the drawing for a while before pointing to another spot. “The door should go here.”

“That’s exactly how my original home was.”

Lu Yao exhaled slowly. “Alright, we’ll go with your idea. Anything else?”

…

The consequence of drawing a new house design for one sulking “kid” was that Lu Yao now had four more design requests on her hands.

How could Heici resist showing off?

Everywhere he went, he dragged others along to see it, making Yuanwei, Hudie, A’Dai, and Jiexiang green with envy. One after another, they came to Lu Yao with their own requests.

Lu Yao briefly considered passing some of the design work to Bai Lu.

When it came to drawing, Bai Lu was the real professional.

But the little people wouldn’t accept it.

The scene at that time was like dealing with eight sulking Heici.

Who could withstand that?

Lu Yao couldn’t. Neither could Bai Lu, who waved her hands in defeat, teary-eyed. “Boss, just leave me out of this. Clearly, I’m not meant for such blessings.”

Lu Yao: “…”

The whole afternoon, the little couples loudly described their wild and whimsical requirements.

Lu Yao sketched furiously, translating all sorts of abstract ideas into concrete drawings.

Bai Lu, watching quietly from the side, eventually couldn’t help but comment, “This kind of ‘blessing’ is clearly something only you can handle!”

Lu Yao’s expression was numb. “… Thanks for that.”

By late evening, Yuanwei and her husband left happily with their new house designs in hand.

Lu Yao packed up her drawing tools, finally ready to head back to her room for a wash and some rest.

But the crisp sound of a bell broke the stillness of the night.

A new guest had arrived.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 35: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

After a long journey through rainstorms, the little people finally arrived at the inn, exhausted, cold, and starving. They queued up for the fragrant meals, sat on the ground, or leaned against their red pigs, and began devouring their food with gusto.

Once full, drowsiness set in. Some little ones finished eating and immediately curled up in the paper boxes nearby, pulling a soft blanket over themselves and falling asleep in seconds.

Others didn’t even finish their meal, their eyes closing mid-bite, chewing slowing, and their small bodies gradually toppling over onto the ground. They were utterly spent.

Monk and his friends, after distributing all the food, noticed some scraps left in the pot. Not one to waste, they scooped it out with a small spoon and shared it amongst themselves, one bite at a time.

Stepping outside, they saw their tribespeople scattered all over, curled up and unconscious. Pairing up, they began carrying them into the paper boxes.

As the work dragged on and fatigue set in, impatience grew. Eventually, they gave up carrying and started rolling their tribespeople directly into the boxes.

Their tribe was tough—deep sleepers, undisturbed even when being unceremoniously bundled into the makeshift beds.

At first, Lu Yao didn’t dare step outside, worried about accidentally stepping on one of the tiny figures.

Once Monk and his group cleared part of the “battlefield,” making more space, she finally ventured out. With a paper box lined with dry towels at hand, she carefully picked up the sleeping little people and placed them inside, like collecting eggs.

The hunting team formed a circle around the old clan chief and the elders under the eaves. After two back-and-forth trips, the hunters were utterly drained. Even sitting upright required effort, and while they wanted to help, they lacked the energy.

The old clan chief, along with the three elders, was visibly worn out. The long migration had taken a toll on their aged bodies. Watching Lu Yao swiftly lift and place the tribe members into boxes, the old chief recalled how, during each Twightlight Moon season, they would similarly carry woven grass nets into the mountains to gather fruit.

Lu Yao’s movements were quick and efficient. With Monk’s team, she soon managed to gather all the scattered little people into the paper boxes, leaving only the old chief and the hunting team under the eaves.

Under the light, shadows flickered, and Lu Yao remained vigilant, wary of any accident.

Carefully squatting about a foot away from them, she spoke gently, “There’s a hot spring in the inn. Many of the little ones took baths earlier tonight.”

Fuxue, a member of the hunting team, opened her eyes, visibly tempted.

After being drenched in the rain earlier, her clothes were still damp, and now, with sweat sticking to her skin, the night wind made her feel sticky and uncomfortable.

The thought of soaking in a warm bath, especially after a hearty meal, was pure bliss.

Some female hunters felt the same. But with the chief silent, no one spoke up.

Lu Yao extended her hand, palm open in invitation. “You’ve worked hard on this journey. Let me take you inside for a hot bath before bed. You’ll feel more refreshed tomorrow.”

Her voice was soft, but the atmosphere grew inexplicably tense.

The old chief, leaning on his wooden staff, shakily stood and approached Lu Yao’s outstretched hand.

The others quickly followed.

With over ten little people in her hands, Lu Yao carefully carried them into the inn.

The shallow tubs used by other little people earlier in the evening were still in the warm spring pool. Lu Yao placed her new guests at the edge of the tubs, filled each with water, and gently helped them in.

To avoid accidents, the tubs were shallow, with only five centimeters of water. Using building block-like parts, she had added steps with handrails on either side for easy access.

To the Nitean little people, these small tubs were as grand as luxurious bathing pools.

Outside the tubs, she had installed miniature shower hoses and provided soap, towels, and all necessary items.

Liyan and several hunters who had stayed at the inn before were already familiar with the bathing tools and needed little instruction from Lu Yao.

After ensuring the men’s tub was settled, Lu Yao moved to the women’s side, where Fuxue and a few other hunters she didn’t recognize were happily scrubbing themselves clean.

Lu Yao paused for a moment before slowly turning around and saying, “My apologies.”

“Hahaha!”

Behind her, the little people burst into laughter.

Fuxue teased loudly, “Lu Yao, why don’t you join us?”

Turning back, Lu Yao found the little ones smugly grinning, as if they’d uncovered a fun weakness.

The large hot spring room had been built primarily for humans, featuring a warm pool nearby. The bath itself was framed with alternating black and white stones and half-filled with steaming spring water, mist curling invitingly above.

Lu Yao raised her hand to lightly massage her sore neck and nodded smoothly. “Sure. Just wait a moment—I’ll take a shower first.”

Beside the warm pool was a row of frosted screens, behind which were the washing and changing areas.

Lu Yao took a bamboo basket stocked with a towel and hair ties. The gentle sound of running water began to trickle from behind the screens, causing the little people to curiously crane their necks, though they couldn’t see anything.

Fuxue, mischief glinting in her eyes, ran barefoot behind the screen. Moments later, she returned with a stunned expression.

Her companions asked, “What’s wrong?”

Fuxue shook her head, still wide-eyed.

“So white.”

When Lu Yao finished showering, the little ones were already in the bath, splashing happily. They seemed like natural swimmers, moving effortlessly through the small bathwater. Hearing Lu Yao’s footsteps, they popped their heads up curiously.

Lu Yao greeted them briefly and stepped into the warm pool beside them. The slightly hot water enveloped her like a comforting blanket, easing her exhaustion.

The little people lowered their heads, examining themselves, then glanced enviously at Lu Yao in her expansive pool.

“This isn’t fair,” someone muttered.

Fuxue leaned on the edge of the basin and called out, “Lu Yao, I want to soak in the big pool too!”

Lu Yao rested a hand on the edge of the pool and looked down. “Alright.”

She reached into their bath. Fuxue jumped onto her hand and clung to her wrist, prompting the others to do the same.

Once in the deep warm pool, the little ones showed no fear, happily treating Lu Yao like a floating raft.

After twenty minutes, Lu Yao got out, dressed, and returned to find the little people wrapped snugly in towels, fast asleep.

She spotted their dirty beast hides tossed aside, gathered them into another bamboo basket, and carefully placed the bundled little ones—towels and all—inside. With their dirty clothes in hand, she left the room.

The male bath was empty; those little people had already finished and gone to bed, leaving only Liyan standing guard with the old chief outside.

Seeing them, Lu Yao walked over and spoke softly, “It’s late. Go rest. Anything else can wait until morning.”

If they stayed up any longer, dawn would break.

The chief stepped forward and looked up at her. “Why are you here?”

The tribe had heard tales of this human’s kindness and gentleness, so unlike the fearsome humans depicted in their cave paintings. Still, the chief couldn’t completely trust her and couldn’t fathom her motives.

Lu Yao tilted her head in thought, a hint of confusion in her eyes. “I’m not entirely sure why I’m here either.”

In previous new store openings, Lu Yao would gradually sense subtle abnormalities, but this Nitean world was completely devoid of any such signs. She had no clue what ultimate mission might await her.

The old chief had imagined many possible responses from this human but had not expected such a nonchalant answer.

Humans had long disappeared from the Nitean continent. Her arrival surely foretold some looming disaster—yet it seemed even she wasn’t aware of it.

Snorting in frustration, the old chief turned and stomped away. “Forget it. I’m going to sleep.”

Liyan gave Lu Yao an apologetic nod before hurrying to catch up with the chief.

Lu Yao threw Fuxue and the others’ dirty clothes into the laundry room, washed and dried them, and returned them to the hot spring room. Finally, yawning, she retired to her room for the night.

The next morning, before dawn, Lu Yao woke and headed to the kitchen to start cooking rice. Once it was steaming and filling the air with its aroma, she returned to her room to wash up and change.

By the time the rice was ready, the staff and guests staying at the inn were also beginning to wake.

Lu Yao decided on rice balls for breakfast—quick, convenient, and delicious.

The steamed rice was cooled slightly and divided into three portions. One portion was mixed with seaweed, meat floss, and salted egg yolk; another with minced beef and vegetables; the last with crab roe and shrimp.

Lu Yao had been experimenting for a while and realized that preparing meals for her little guests shared similarities with making baby food.

After browsing online, she purchased some cute, small molds designed for baby meals.

In the morning, she didn’t need to hand-roll the rice balls; instead, she filled the molds with spoonfuls of seasoned, well-mixed ingredients. Once unmolded, each rice ball was just the right size for a one- or two-year-old child’s bite—coincidentally, also a suitable portion for the little people.

The rice, seaweed, meat floss, salted egg yolk, beef cubes, and shrimp were all processed to an appropriate texture—neither too coarse to swallow nor overly fine and lacking texture.

As Lu Yao worked on the rice balls, a curious group of little people gathered around her cutting board to watch: the three little couples staying at the inn, Yuanwei, Heici, Fuxue, and her friends.

Lu Yao set aside a failed attempt on a small dipping plate and pushed it toward the group. “Want to give it a try?”

Jiexiang eagerly stepped forward, pinched a piece, and took a bite, nodding enthusiastically. “Delicious!”

She didn’t forget to pinch another piece and stuff it into Ziye’s hand.

The small rice ball was quickly devoured as they shared it, one pinch at a time.

By the time Xiao Zheng arrived at the inn, Lu Yao had already finished the rice balls for her guests, and the soup was simmering on the stove.

Lu Yao said, “I saved some rice. Breakfast for us is up to you.”

Xiao Zheng donned an apron and gloves, skillfully hand-shaping larger rice triangles for humans. The little people’s attention quickly shifted to him.

Lu Yao placed a plate of little rice balls next to the larger human-sized ones and snapped a photo to share online:

“Today’s inn breakfast: three-flavor rice balls, seaweed mung bean soup, spicy beef sauce, and mayonnaise.”

Within ten minutes, her post was flooded with comments from staff “ordering” their breakfast.

That morning, no one wanted food from the snack shop or pet cafe—they all wanted the inn’s rice balls.

With the internal network system fully operational, even though there weren’t many users yet, this new way of sharing moments brought a fresh vitality to Shopping Street.

…

Outside the inn, the Red Pig tribe’s little people woke up feeling refreshed after a night of rest.

Waking to the aroma of breakfast, they instinctively lined up at the door for rice balls without any need for reminders.

They had thought last night’s tomato meat sauce pasta was the pinnacle of gourmet food, only to find this morning’s rice balls offered another level of deliciousness.

The only challenge was choosing from the three flavors, leaving them completely torn.

By the end of the day, the consensus among the little people was unanimous: the inn’s food surpassed even that of the Xiaguang tribe.

…

After breakfast, the old chief urged the tribe to set off and had the little people bring out items like beast hides, oil stones, and sugar blocks, piling them in front of the inn like a small mountain. It seemed the old chief was keen to sever any ties with the inn.

Despite the younger members’ confusion, they followed his orders, leaving no room for negotiation.

Lu Yao accepted the goods and called Zhu Zhou and Heici to see the tribe off.

The journey from Thorn Valley to the Red Pig tribe’s new territory would take about half a day. With their large numbers, heavy luggage, and herding the red pigs, even crossing the valley’s boundary would take considerable time.

Zhu Zhou drove the new green train around to the front, and Heici leaned out of the window with a miniature megaphone, shouting, “Get on! We’ll take you to the boundary!”

The little people had noticed the strange rails crisscrossing Thorn Valley earlier but hadn’t known their purpose. Now, seeing the green train, their eyes practically popped out of their heads.

The bolder ones ran over immediately, hauling their luggage into the carriages.

The train had ten carriages, each equipped with exterior racks for cargo. It could carry dozens of passengers in one trip—faster than walking and infinitely more exciting.

The little people quickly fell in love with this peculiar mode of transportation. Those who didn’t get a spot on the first trip loitered nearby, waiting for its return.

The old chief watched the scene with a sour expression:

“That human is definitely up to no good.”

Once the large group of guests departed, the inn returned to its usual quiet.

Lu Yao sorted the Red Pig tribe’s offerings into her system storage: beast hides, sugar blocks, oil stones, and even a growing collection of red pigs.

Amid the more practical items, two lone treasures—Yangju and Acorus—each occupied a slot, appearing almost extravagant.

Lu Yao took out the Yangju fruit, turning it in her hand. She still had no idea what it was for.

From his seat in the first-floor dining area, Ziye noticed the fruit in Lu Yao’s hand. His expression shifted subtly, and he walked over.

“How do you have that fruit?” he asked.

Lu Yao countered, “You know about Yangju?”

Ziye frowned. “It’s a medicinal fruit. Don’t you know that?”

Medicinal?

Lu Yao shook her head. “I came across it by chance but don’t know its purpose.”

Ziye looked puzzled. “But Yangju grows only in the forbidden garden behind the sacred temple of the Shenmu tribe. Only they can access it.”

Moreover, the last Yangju tree had withered seven years ago. Despite the temple elders’ efforts, it could not be saved.

Yet, the Yangju in Lu Yao’s hand looked as fresh as if it had just been picked from the tree.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 35: Reborn to Raise My Husband

Afterward, Fang Jie’er began visiting Madam Wang’s home three times every five days to learn the craft.

She worked hard—setting out before dawn to walk to the county town, studying hairstyling techniques with Madam Wang for about an hour.

Once done, she’d help with laundry, sweep the courtyard, chop wood, then return home before midday.

Even after returning, she never slacked off. She did all the household chores, and repeatedly practiced what she had learned that morning.

She would comb her own hair three to five times, and when that wasn’t enough, she’d comb Grandma Sun’s and Fang Ge’er’s hair.

Whenever Xiao Yuanbao visited the Fang house to play, he’d always be pulled aside for two different hairstyles before being let go.

Though little gers typically wore their hair simply like boys, unlike girls who had more elaborate styles, Xiao Yuanbao—being young—liked flowery, girlish hairstyles.

But too much combing inevitably led to more shedding. Since his hair was already thin, seeing strands fall made him heartbroken. He even started fearing Fang Jie’er.

Eventually, she promised him she’d only do one style next time and only the simple type for gers.

She also made a fragrant hair oil for promoting hair growth, and that finally coaxed him back.

Her efforts weren’t in vain—Fang Jie’er clearly had a bit of natural talent for hairstyling, and with such dedication, her skill quickly improved.

Madam Wang became increasingly pleased with her. Only a few months in, she began taking her into wealthy households as an assistant to broaden her exposure.

Madam Wang told her, as long as she remained sincere and diligent, it was entirely possible that she could be hired long-term by some noble household if she gained their favor.

This gave Fang Jie’er even more hope in this line of work.

…

Spring passed into summer, summer faded into fall.

Unknowingly, the sweaty, sweltering days of late summer and early autumn arrived.

That morning, Zhu Yongxian of the manor finally received a reply from his family in Jinling.

Ever since meeting Qi Beinan, he had been respectful on the surface, but uneasy inside. So, he had sent a letter to the family estate back in Jinling.

From Ling County to Jinling was a long way—riding a fast horse there and back would take over half a month, let alone the slow pace of a courier.

The household in Jinling read the letter, inquired around, and after all the delays, the reply didn’t arrive until autumn—months after it had been sent in spring.

Zhu Yongxian’s wife wrote that the madam had looked into it: back in Jiangzhou, there wasn’t any prominent scholarly Qi family with close ties to them.

Though Lord Qi had once held office in a neighboring county and was known for his respect toward scholars, the madam couldn’t be certain if she’d met someone by that name.

The Jiang family had transferred through many posts, and it wouldn’t be surprising if some people used their name after they left.

What they could confirm was that there wasn’t a deep connection between their household and Qi Beinan, and that he likely was just trying to gain favor.

Upon receiving this, Zhu Yongxian was furious.

That brat! Bold enough to come and fool him face-to-face.

He flung on his sleeves and stormed out of the manor.

Just his luck, as he arrived in the village, he saw Qi Beinan out in the fields, harvesting rice.

“Well, well, Young Master Qi, out working in the fields yourself?”

Qi Beinan heard the voice, straightened up, and saw that it was Zhu Yongxian.

With a forced smile and a voice full of sarcasm, he knew what this was about.

“If you live in the countryside, what reason is there not to farm? But what wind brought Steward Zhu here? Has the manor’s harvest already been gathered?”

“You needn’t worry about manor affairs,” Zhu Yongxian snapped.

He squinted at the pleasant-looking Qi Beinan and said in a low voice, “Got quite the nerve, daring to use our master’s name.”

Qi Beinan slowly set down the rice in his hands, climbed the field ridge, uncorked his waterskin and took a sip of tea.

The autumn heat made his back sweat.

“Steward Zhu, you’re pinning a label on me that doesn’t fit.”

He was as composed as ever. “From the start, I told you the Jiang family is a noble household, and I don’t dare claim to be close to them.”

“My father always taught me to respect upright officials like Lord Jiang. As a scholar, it’s only natural to ask after such a man’s health and family. Since when did sincere concern become an offense? Is that how the Jiang household carries themselves?”

“You—!”

Zhu Yongxian ground his teeth, but upon thinking it over, Qi Beinan had never actually claimed to be close to the family.

It was his own assumptions that led him to open the door for him based on Qi Beinan’s familiarity with their household affairs.

This brat really was clever—he’d fallen for it despite having lived more years and eaten more salt.

And all this had even led to Qin Niazi being disgraced, and Steward Zhu bringing Fang Youliang in just to appease him.

Qi Beinan had expected the day would come when his bluff would be called. He said, “Steward Zhu, I asked after Lord Jiang, but did I take any advantage of you?”

“My former aunt is now your woman, and she represents your face. She goes around badmouthing people, twisting truth from falsehood, and stirring up trouble. If you don’t rein her in, you’re new to this manor—how do you expect the village to view you?”

“As for Brother Fang, he’s strong and capable. You originally wanted him to work for the manor, but gave up because Qin Niazi threw a fit. I merely recommended him again. I didn’t gain anything for myself—the work still benefits the manor.”

Zhu Yongxian fell silent.

Qi Beinan hadn’t spoken falsely. Qin Niazi was indeed charming, but her temperament was troublesome. She might be favored, but she was still a concubine—someone meant to serve. No matter how much she was doted on, she couldn’t be allowed to stir up real trouble.

Having grown up in a prestigious household, Zhu Yongxian understood these principles.

As for that Fang family eldest son—truth be told—he was an excellent worker, and Zhu Yongxian had originally planned to call on him again for the next round of hiring.

But he still felt a bit too embarrassed to back down easily, so he raised his eyes to Qi Beinan and said, “You scholars really are slippery—black becomes white in your mouth.”

Qi Beinan saw that although Zhu Yongxian’s words were sharp, he wasn’t truly angry. That meant he could still tell right from wrong.

He said, “My connection to Qin Niazi is hard to explain. If I hadn’t asked after Lord Jiang’s well-being, how would Steward Zhu have even agreed to meet me? So, in the end, I was at fault. Here, I offer my apology.”

Saying so, he respectfully cupped his hands in a formal bow.

Seeing this, Zhu Yongxian felt much better.

And to be honest, he still wasn’t sure whether Qi Beinan had truly known his master. He figured the boy had at least met Lord Jiang once—how else could he know so many things about the household?

When one serves an official family, it’s not uncommon for people to borrow their name for clout, so long as they don’t cause trouble. The household wouldn’t investigate every case.

Putting on a stiffer face, Zhu Yongxian said, “Fine. Since you’re still young, about the same age as our Fourth Young Master, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Steward Zhu’s broad-mindedness and generous nature—no wonder you manage Ping Manor so well.”

A small smile tugged at Zhu Yongxian’s lips. “Cut the flattery.”

Then he asked, “But how’d you learn about things in Jinling while living in a small county like Ling?”

Qi Beinan made up an excuse casually: “I have a friend studying in Jinling. We exchange letters often, and he happens to attend Qiushan Academy—that’s how I heard.”

Zhu Yongxian thought to himself, This kid’s network is impressive. And gutsy too.

He said, “You should visit the manor more when you have time.”

…

Autumn brought the rush of harvest: collecting grain, sun-drying crops, paying the land tax…

Once that was done and the weather cooled, people began looking for marriage prospects again. Madam Qiao nearly ran her legs off playing matchmaker.

With families having more leisure and money in hand, proposals and arrangements came in droves.

Xiao Yuanbao followed Jiang fulang from one banquet to the next, busy enough to have no time to catch his breath.

The countryside was lively—but not as much as the city.

There, wealthier families hosted wave after wave of chrysanthemum-viewing parties and poetry gatherings. With many noblewomen going out, Fang Jie’er accompanied her teacher to several wealthy households—gaining experience and even the chance to style noblewomen’s hair herself.

Zhao Guangzong, meanwhile, stayed shut indoors, studying hard. Spring of the coming year would bring his entrance exam, and time was short—so he doubled his efforts.

Everyone was busy with something, except for Qi Beinan, who managed to steal a few moments of leisure amid it all.

With no urgent matters, he occasionally tutored Zhao Guangzong, listened to Xiao Yuanbao’s excited retellings of banquet feasts, or heard Fang Jie’er speak about hairdressing. Life was strangely peaceful.

The year passed—if not without bumps, then at least without real turmoil.

…

Spring, the following year.

The grass along the paddy ridges had just begun to sprout, and the weather was still bitterly cold.

Xiao Yuanbao stayed tightly wrapped in his blankets, unwilling to move.

Their family didn’t have many relatives to visit during the New Year, but this month, many households were hosting banquets. He had followed his teacher all over.

Rain and snow still came this time of year. The weather was cold, and the roads were muddy. Twice, he’d worn new clothes out and come home with a muddy butt, ruining the whole outfit.

Truly, the New Year month had been both exhausting and inconvenient.

Luckily, the fifteenth had passed, and things were finally calming down.

“Still not up yet?”

Qi Beinan nudged open the door with a brazier of hot coals in hand. The curtain around the bed hadn’t been pulled back, even though daylight had long arrived.

He knew Xiao Yuanbao usually woke early—he must just be clinging to the warmth, unwilling to get up.

A messy little head popped out from the curtains: “There’s no banquet today. Teacher said Xiao Bao doesn’t have to go out.”

Qi Beinan took his coat off the rack and warmed it by the brazier. “Did you forget we’re going to Village Head Zhao’s place today?”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes went wide, and he immediately flung off the covers.

“That’s right! The second month is nearly here—Brother Zhao is leaving for his county exam! We’re going to see him off!”

He jumped out of bed, threw on his now-warm outerwear, and rushed to the cabinet to retrieve a small hand warmer he’d prepared days ago.

“Brother, why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

Qi Beinan helped adjust his collar. “If I hadn’t, I would’ve gone by myself.”

“We’re just sending him off today—that’s no big deal. But if he passes and we don’t go congratulate him, now that’s a problem.”

Xiao Yuanbao furrowed his soft brows, slightly worried: “Will Brother Zhao pass the tongsheng exam this time? He doesn’t even have a teacher…”

He thought about it and felt really sorry—if he didn’t have Jiang fulang teaching him, he wouldn’t even know how to use a chef’s knife, recognize spices, or fold a wonton.

Qi Beinan tapped Xiao Yuanbao lightly on the forehead. “Zhao Guangzong studies hard—he goes through two taels of lamp oil a night. Besides, he’s personally taught by your brother—how could he not pass?”

Xiao Yuanbao squinted his eyes into a smile, then mimicked Qi Beinan’s gesture by poking his forehead with the pad of his finger. “Brother, you’re bragging and not even a little shy.”

Qi Beinan chuckled and gently squeezed Xiao Yuanbao’s soft little palm.

The two of them tidied up and, stepping into the morning breeze, made their way to the Zhao household.

At that time, the Zhao home was a busy mess.

Madam Zhang was packing clothes and food for Zhao Guangzong, while Village Head Zhao was outside helping the hired hand hitch up the ox cart.

This year’s county exam in Ling County was scheduled for the second day of the second lunar month. Zhao Guangzong planned to leave two days early and stay at his grandfather’s house in the county, which would be closer to the exam venue.

“There you are. I thought maybe you weren’t coming,” Zhao Guangzong said while carefully placing the hand-copied letters Qi Beinan had given him into his book chest. Seeing him arrive settled his nerves considerably.

“I said I’d see you off, so of course I’m here,” Qi Beinan replied. “All packed?”

“It’s not far to the county seat, and I’ll be staying at Grandfather’s place, so there’s not much to bring. It’s just… my first time sitting the exam, and my parents are so nervous it’s making me jittery too.”

Zhao Guangzong felt deeply unsure. Even though he had made great strides in the past year and learned a lot, this was still his first time sitting the imperial exam. His heart was full of unease.

If Qi Beinan hadn’t come, he was planning to stop by the Xiao household himself before heading out.

Unconsciously, he had already come to see Qi Beinan as his teacher in his studies.

Qi Beinan patted his shoulder. In truth, he too had come to think of Zhao Guangzong as a student.

He’d taught many pupils in the past, but those who had joined him were mostly already juren (provincial graduates). Zhao Guangzong, not even a tongsheng yet, was the first he’d taught from the ground up.

That kind of teacher-student relationship often left a deeper impression.

“Don’t weigh yourself down with pressure. You’ve already studied well enough. Just treat this as practice—the result doesn’t matter; what matters is the experience.”

Zhao Guangzong nodded. “True. Imperial exams aren’t easy—if everyone passed on the first try, the county school would be bursting with people. If I don’t pass, there’s no shame in it.”

Qi Beinan smiled. “That mindset is exactly right.”

“Brother Zhao, spring mornings are still cold. Your fingers must freeze when you write.”

Xiao Yuanbao brought out the gift he’d prepared. “This hand warmer is something I picked out with Brother. Bring it with you. If your hands get cold, warm them up—your writing will come out even better.”

Zhao Guangzong took the little warmer with a smile. “Just seeing it has already warmed my heart. My writing will definitely look great.”

The county exam was in the second month, the prefectural exam in the fourth.

The county exam consisted of five rounds; the prefectural had three. Once the county exam was over and the results announced, candidates would proceed to the prefectural-level test in the state capital.

The schedule over the two months was tight and well-packed.

The county exam was just a warm-up, focusing mostly on fill-in-the-blanks poetry and basic essays. For anyone who had put in decent study time, it wasn’t too challenging.

Zhao Guangzong had nothing to worry about in that regard.

The real test of a scholar’s depth was in the prefectural exam—three rounds, including essay-style political arguments and strategic proposals.

In early April, as spring blossomed in full, Zhao Guangzong held his brush and stared at the questions written on the test paper. His face flushed with excitement.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Ch 34: Reborn to Raise My Husband

“This Foreman Liu has a household of four—one son and one daughter. The eldest son is currently studying at the county school, and the daughter is around the same age as Fang Ge’er.”

“Foreman Liu’s wife is surnamed Fei. She’s quite a good-looking woman and really enjoys walking around the street markets.”

Fang Youliang shared the information he had gathered with Qi Beinan: “I picked this up bit by bit while delivering fruit and vegetables to their home. Foreman Liu also mentioned that the county workshop will be working on the canals this month, but they’re short on workers, so he gave me a recruitment slip.”

Qi Beinan glanced at the slip—authentic.

After listening, he made some rough assessments.

“Foreman Liu’s household may not be large, but with a son in school and a wife fond of shopping, their expenses must be high. He only holds a team leader role in the county workshop, and the salary isn’t impressive. If they don’t have some extra income on the side, it’d be hard to manage.”

Qi Beinan had lived in the county seat before. His father had been a teacher and scholar. Not to mention holidays—there were regular banquets for birthdays, shop openings, or neighborhood celebrations.

City folks liked to gather and throw feasts. Even regular families invited guests, let alone those who worked in the county office. He had seen it plenty during his years in government.

Qi Beinan rummaged through his belongings and pulled out two annotated books and a fine Lu Prefecture inkstick he had saved—not because he was stingy, but because he hadn’t had the need for it until now. Better to put it to good use.

“Wrap these up and bring them to the Liu household. They’ve got a scholar in the house and aren’t exactly a wealthy or well-connected family, so these should be appreciated.”

Fang Youliang hesitated: “You’ve already helped with all the planning. How can I take your things too?”

“Fang Jie’er wanting to learn a trade is a good thing. I’m just helping her a bit now. She’s the kind who repays kindness—if it works out, I’ll benefit too.”

Qi Beinan pressed the bundle into his hands. “Lucky for us the Liu family has a scholar in the household—otherwise I’d have nothing to offer to make the connection.”

Fang Youliang was both moved and a little ashamed.

“I’ll accept for now. When the time comes, I’ll definitely thank you properly.”

“No need for such words between us.”

Qi Beinan motioned for him to sit: “I’ve still got more to discuss. Just this much won’t be enough. The Liu family may not be rich, but they spend a lot. We’ll need something more substantial.”

Handing over a cash gift wouldn’t work. The Fang family couldn’t afford a decent amount, and a meager one would be embarrassing.

But now that Fang Youliang had that recruitment slip, they had a route.

“If Foreman Liu is willing to make the introduction to the hairdresser for Fang Jie’er, offer him forty percent of your wages from the canal job. What do you think?”

Fang Youliang’s eyes lit up: “I was thinking the same.”

Qi Beinan nodded. “Also prepare a proper gift ahead of time. If the meeting with the hairdresser works out, you can’t show up empty-handed.”

“Right. We’ve paid off most of our earlier loans with this year’s earnings. Borrowing a bit more should be doable.”

Fang Youliang planned to prepare five strings of cash and a fat goose as the formal apprenticeship gift: “Think that’s enough?”

Qi Beinan estimated it should be. If the hairdresser was open to taking her in, that would meet normal standards.

If not, no amount would be enough—and the Fang family certainly couldn’t afford extravagance.

So the next day, Fang Youliang brought the books, inkstick, and an old hen from home and delivered them to the Liu household.

Lately, seeing her brother running around and giving away valuable things, Fang Jie’er felt uneasy and remorseful. She felt she had added to her already burdened family.

But the matter had gone this far—she could only hope it wasn’t all in vain.

That same day, Zhao Guangzong returned from the county seat and brought back a stack of handwritten notes—copies carefully made by the elderly gentleman who had been teaching him. He didn’t want to take advantage of everything without giving something back, so he picked up extra paper and ink and brought some pastries for Xiao Yuanbao—two pieces each of peach and plum flavor.

As luck would have it, Jiang Fulang arrived carrying a fresh pig stomach.

He’d just gotten it from a butcher and originally meant to invite Xiao Yuanbao over to cook and teach him how to prepare it.

But Xiao Hu had gone up the mountain and Xiao Yuanbao was home alone, so instead, Jiang Fulang brought it straight to the house.

Xiao Yuanbao had gotten clingy lately—worried about his brother anytime he wasn’t home, like he might get snatched up by someone.

So Jiang Fulang figured—what’s one more person at the table? Easier to just come over and cook.

“Little Uncle, you and I are really heart-to-heart. I drop by, and bam—I get to eat your food.”

Zhao Guangzong chuckled when he saw Jiang Fulang.

Jiang Fulang gave him a look: “You glutton, not cooped up studying for once, huh? Actually showing your face.”

“How else would I catch your cooking?” Zhao Guangzong grinned.

Zhao Guangzong feigned a sigh. “Ever since Little Uncle got himself a new apprentice, I’ve barely had a chance to eat his cooking. I’m craving it so bad—my mother even says I’ve gotten thinner.”

Xiao Yuanbao was overjoyed to see Jiang Fulang arrive.

He ran over, took the basket from Jiang Fulang’s hand, looped it over his own arm, and led him into the house.

Jiang Fulang was warmed by the sight of obedient Xiao Yuanbao, and joked with Zhao Guangzong, “You’re not getting thinner because you’re missing my food—it’s because you’ve been working hard at your studies.”

“If Little Uncle says that, I really can’t be glib anymore.”

Qi Beinan poured tea for Jiang Fulang and invited him to sit.

“You two talk, I’ll let you be.”

Jiang Fulang said, “I’ll cook with Bao Ge’er.”

Qi Beinan was truly grateful for Jiang Fulang’s thoughtfulness. “Then we’re in for a treat.”

Upon hearing they were going to cook, Xiao Yuanbao carried the heavy basket into the kitchen.

Inside the basket was a bundle of fresh, uncleaned pig stomach and several spices.

Xiao Yuanbao recognized bay leaf, star anise, Sichuan peppercorns, spicy zhuyu berries, and a jar of oil-based sauce.

It was still early—no rush to cook just yet.

Jiang Fulang tossed the pig stomach into a basin and first sprinkled in coarse salt, ready to show Xiao Yuanbao how to clean it thoroughly.

“These organs—whether from chicken, duck, sheep, or pig—no matter how you cook or eat them, the key is getting them clean first. Otherwise, even the best chef will turn out a stinky, inedible mess.”

“Start with coarse salt, scrub repeatedly, then rinse. After that, add flour to draw out the remaining gunk.”

Xiao Yuanbao was fascinated that there was a method to everything and listened earnestly.

Jiang Fulang said, “You try it.”

At banquets, most of the time was spent observing and learning—hard to get hands-on. But cooking at home was more casual. If he didn’t do it himself, it’d all be theoretical.

“Okay!”

Xiao Yuanbao eagerly rolled up his sleeves and tied a little apron around his waist.

He brought a small stool to stand on and climbed up beside the cooking counter.

He reached in and began scrubbing the slippery pig stomach—it felt like a stretchy dough to him.

Jiang Fulang was pleased to see he wasn’t bothered by the smell.

“Offal may seem unappetizing, being what stores an animal’s waste, but if cleaned and cooked properly, it’s delicious with rice or wine. A staple in everyday home cooking.”

“In the future, whether you’re hosting your own guests or cooking at someone else’s table, if you can turn out a few good dishes of pig offal, folks will always praise your skill.”

Qi Beinan leaned against the kitchen doorframe, quietly watching the master and apprentice at work.

He saw Xiao Yuanbao, so small he barely reached the counter, earnestly scrubbing the pig stomach.

Zhao Guangzong tugged at Qi Beinan’s sleeve from behind, and the two of them returned to the main room.

Zhao Guangzong leaned in with a mysterious air. “Little Uncle has made up his mind to really teach Bao Ge’er.”

Qi Beinan raised a brow. “How so?”

“Little Uncle’s best dishes are all offal,” Zhao Guangzong whispered. “He used to make amazing offal dishes at our house when my father entertained guests.”

“Braised, stir-fried, pickled, stewed, smoked and steamed—he did it all. Once people tasted his cooking, his reputation spread.”

He lowered his voice further. “Now he’s teaching Bao Ge’er his signature dishes—if that’s not commitment, what is?”

Qi Beinan glanced back toward the kitchen.

Xiao Bao had only been studying under Jiang Fulang for two months, and already he was willing to teach him his specialties. He must truly like the boy.

By noon, Jiang Fulang had turned the fresh pig stomach into two dishes: one was stir-fried slivers with spring onions they’d grown back in February, and the other was a stew of pig stomach and lettuce stalks.

Qi Beinan had tasted the stir-fried version at the Zhao Guangzong home before—savory and crisp.

The stew was new. The soup had been thickened slightly and cut into strips—tender, soft, yet still held their shape. Very tasty.

Xiao Yuanbao ate with great appetite—he had three bowls of rice.

Not only were Jiang Fulang’s dishes rich and flavorful, but Xiao Yuanbao himself had worked hard today.

He’d scrubbed that pig stomach so long his fingertips were all wrinkled, and he’d also learned how to score the meat with decorative knife work.

Jiang Fulang said this technique was also used on chicken gizzards, duck gizzards, and pork kidneys.

Cross-hatching the cuts allowed the offal to bloom like flowers in hot oil.

Xiao Yuanbao was amazed.

Although his teacher hadn’t yet let him use a knife by himself—large chef’s knives were heavy, cold, and sharp, a little intimidating—he wasn’t afraid.

That morning, the teacher had guided his hands in practicing a few cuts.

As long as he curled the fingers of his left hand inward while holding the meat, he wouldn’t get cut.

After the meal, Jiang Fulang noticed some bamboo shoots still soaking in cold water by the well.

He peeled them, but they were turning green and already tough: “These water bamboo shoots are usually small and crisp, but these are bigger than my thumb—clearly good ones that got left too long. What a waste.”

Xiao Yuanbao told him they were a gift from Big Brother Fang’s family. They’d cooked some earlier, but it had a bitter aftertaste.

With only a few people at home, it hadn’t been eaten up quickly.

Jiang Fulang shook his head. “Bamboo shoots are crisp and flavorful, but they have to be properly prepared. If that raw flavor isn’t suppressed, they’re not exactly pleasant to eat.”

“You two cooked them by boiling—how could it turn out tasty? If you want to cook it again yourselves later and keep it simple, just slice some cured pork and stir-fry it.”

He picked through the bamboo shoots and peeled them with Xiao Yuanbao. The fresher, more tender ones were kept aside for pickling into a jar of preserved shoots, while the rest were blanched and set out under the sun to dry.

These simple vegetables were often pickled in autumn and stored for winter. If there were a woman or a housekeeper at home, Xiao Yuanbao—being clever—would have quickly learned to prepare them.

But that Qin Niazi was lazy and had never taught the child anything truly useful.

“In the future, when you’ve got time, come to your teacher’s courtyard. I’ll teach you more whenever I can.”

“Mm.”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded eagerly and ran off carrying the bamboo shoots.

…

At the end of the month, Fang Youliang returned beaming with good news.

He came to the Xiao residence with Fang Jie’er. They had barely stepped through the gate when he couldn’t hold back his joy and told Qi Beinan the results.

“It’s done, it’s all settled!”

Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao were overjoyed to hear it and quickly ushered the two inside.

“The Liu family accepted the gifts and passed the message to Madam Wang through their own wife. And as luck would have it, Madam Wang was just planning to take on a disciple, so she didn’t reject Madam Fei outright and agreed to first meet the girl.”

Fang Jie’er was happy but also uneasy. This hairdressing lady served only the rich and noble; she must’ve seen a lot of the world. With her plain looks, she feared she wouldn’t be chosen.

She hurried to her cousin’s house to borrow a proper outfit made of fine cloth to tidy herself up before going to meet the woman with her brother and the gift.

Madam Wang lived in Jiaozi Alley, not far from the bustling market. It was a spacious street where property wasn’t cheap.

But her courtyard was still large, with four or five rooms—clearly a wealthy household.

Fang Jie’er felt even more unsure of herself. But upon seeing Madam Wang, she was surprised.

She had imagined that someone who made a living styling hair for others and lived so well would be flashy and extravagant.

But Madam Wang wore a plain charcoal-gray outfit, and though her hair was her trade, her own hairstyle was exceedingly simple—on the streets, she wouldn’t stand out at all.

Only with a closer look could one see the material of her clothes was fine, and her hair was sleek and shiny.

Fang Jie’er guessed that Madam Wang must be someone who disliked showing off.

Madam Wang didn’t put on airs just because the siblings were from the countryside. On the contrary, she was warm and friendly.

She asked Fang Jie’er her age, whether she had studied, if she could read, and what kinds of hairstyles she knew or had seen…

After all those questions, Fang Jie’er felt disheartened. Aside from her age, she couldn’t answer much at all—and nothing particularly well.

Then Madam Wang let down her own hair and asked her to style it.

Her hands trembled as she stepped forward.

Thankfully, she had styled plenty of hair at home—not just her own, but for her mother, Fang Ge’er, and Bao Ge’er. Her fingers were used to it and nimble.

Once she got started, her hands steadied, and she managed to tie a simple, neat bun.

Madam Wang looked at it from all angles in the mirror, touched it lightly, then looked at her and said:

“You’ve started learning this craft a bit late, and you don’t know much about hairstyle types or the craft’s ins and outs.”

Fang Jie’er held her comb and stood silently. She knew there was no use trying to be slick in front of such a shrewd woman.

Her family had already gone through so much to open this path—if she wasn’t determined now, there’d be nothing more they could do to help her.

So she gathered her courage and said quietly but sincerely:

“I grew up in the countryside and never had a chance to learn much or see much. I don’t have many skills. Only thing I know is how to make hair tidy.”

“I never thought this would lead anywhere. Figured I’d just marry young and live out life that way. But when I heard there’s such a profession as hairdressing in the city, I couldn’t sleep at night. Though I’m a girl, I also want to have a skill I can live on.”

“Not just for my parents and siblings, but for myself—so that no matter what happens, I have a way to survive. That’s why I’ve come to beg you, Madam Wang. I know I’m not very clever or gifted, but I do have one strength: I’m willing to work hard and learn.”

Madam Wang listened, then looked again into the mirror.

“For a country girl, you’ve got ambition. You may be older and unfamiliar with hairstyle trends, but your hands are quick.”

When she first saw this girl, with her lowered eyes and meek demeanor, she thought she was timid and inarticulate. But her words were earnest and well-spoken.

Madam Wang didn’t give the siblings an answer that day. She simply told them to go home and said she’d give a reply in a few days.

Fang Jie’er, recounting the visit, was flushed with joy. “I really thought Madam Wang wasn’t going to take me, and that she was just being polite. But a few days later, my brother went to the county again, and Foreman Liu said Madam Wang agreed.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes sparkled. “Congratulations, Fang Jie’er!”

Fang Jie’er smiled bashfully. “If it weren’t for Mr. Qi helping me, I wouldn’t even have had this chance. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

Saying that, she stood up to bow to Qi Beinan.

Qi Beinan quickly got up, but didn’t know whether he should stop her. Xiao Yuanbao slid off his stool and ran over to tug her sleeve.

“Fang Jie’er, don’t bow. Brother isn’t a teacher or a master—you don’t need to bow to him.”

Fang Jie’er was overjoyed that she could finally go study a craft—so much so that she wiped at her tears:

“My family emptied out what little we had just for me, and even if I wanted to properly thank you, Mr. Qi, I truly have nothing to offer. So all I can do right now is swear an oath here: I will dedicate myself wholeheartedly to learning this craft, and in the future, as long as you ever need anything from me, I will go through fire and water without hesitation.”

Qi Beinan smiled and said, “Fang Jie’er may not have studied, yet you even know to say ‘go through fire and water’—that shows your sincerity.”

“I already understand your gratitude. That alone is enough.”

“Now that your wish has come true and Madam Wang has taken you in, it’s largely because you suited her expectations. Going forward, as you learn this craft, don’t let a sense of owing anyone weigh too heavily on your heart. Just do your best—there’s no need to burden yourself too much with the need to repay others.”

Fang Jie’er felt warmth rise up inside her and nodded deeply, lips tightly pressed.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚