Author Archives: sandy

The bandit leader was dead.

The remaining bandits were tied up by the refugees, but in the wake of the chaos, no one knew what to do next.

Should they kill the bandits?

If not, keeping them alive would only waste food they could barely spare.

But the idea of killing terrified them too.

After some discussion, Xian Sanniang and Old Chen decided to wait until the other merchants returned before making a decision.

As for the two Chu men killed by the bandits—their families had already avenged them.

Qiao Sinang even compensated the families with money.

They accepted it and no longer blamed her.

When Qiao Sinang had hired them, she’d warned them about the risks.

And if they hadn’t been so eager to betray the goddess, they wouldn’t have died.

Everyone who traveled with her could testify to that.

Besides, Qiao Sinang had already suffered heavy losses from this trip.

Though most of her goods were recovered from the bandits, some of the grain had been ruined.

The bandits didn’t recognize pumpkins or sweet potatoes as food—thinking they were strange vegetables fit for horses, they fed them to their mounts.

When Dou Niang came to see Qiao Sinang, Qiao Sinang said quietly, “I’ll make it up to you for the losses.”

Dou Niang asked, “Are you planning to give up?”

Qiao Sinang fell silent.

Truthfully, this incident had shaken her deeply.

The world was far more dangerous than she had imagined.

But she couldn’t bring herself to accept defeat.

Still, what could stubbornness change?

She couldn’t survive another blow like this one.

Dou Niang said nothing more.

That night, Yin Jiao secretly pulled Qiao Sinang aside.

“Auntie, what’s wrong?” Qiao Sinang asked.

Yin Jiao pressed a membership card into her hand. “I still have some money left. Take it. Go to the goddess again—buy more goods and take them to Guiyang Commandery to sell.”

Qiao Sinang quickly refused. “Auntie, I can’t.”

“Listen to me,” Yin Jiao said earnestly. “We’ve taken the first step. If we retreat now, it’s all over. We only lost some goods this time—it’s not a huge loss.”

When the bandits were captured, all the money they had looted from her was recovered.

And part of her savings, which she had buried in the woods while escaping, could still be retrieved.

What she truly feared was another robbery on the road.

Seeing her hesitation, Yin Jiao said, “Then how about this—transfer your distribution rights to me. I’ll go myself.”

Qiao Sinang stared at her in surprise.

Yin Jiao said, “What are you afraid of? The bandits have already been caught. That stretch of road will be safe, at least for a while.”

She said it partly to encourage herself—to harden her own resolve.

Moved by Yin Jiao’s determination, Qiao Sinang was silent for a long moment. When she finally looked up again, her gaze had regained its strength.

*

Meanwhile, Dou Dalang and the others trading in Yizhang County were unaware of what had happened back at the settlement.

He was unloading the belongings that belonged to Zhao Changyan from the cart.

“From here, you can take a small boat to the river mouth and enter the Wu River. At the ferry, there are often merchant ships. You can board one for Shaozhou, then follow the Bei River downstream to Prince Xing Prefecture.”

Zhao Changyan nodded. “Thank you.”

“You helped us first—we’re just returning the favor,” Dou Dalang said.

Zhao Changyan said nothing more. She gripped the handle of her folding cart and headed toward the Yizhang River, where small boats were moored.

Though this had once been her titular fief, she felt no attachment to it.

After bargaining with the boatman, the small vessel drifted slowly down the river.

As it rocked gently, Zhao Changyan sat on board.

It was breakfast time, so she took out some dry rations and ate. Under the boatman’s wary stare, she began sharpening her axe.

When she practiced chopping through the air, the boatman’s paddling grew visibly faster.

Once she finished, she handed him a honey bun. “Eat something. Better to row on a full stomach.”

“N-no need!” the boatman stammered, rowing even harder.

Zhao Changyan: …

The forty-li journey that should have taken half a day was finished in only four hours thanks to his frantic paddling.

By evening, the river glittered under the red-orange glow of sunset.

At the ferry, Zhao Changyan looked at the desolate surroundings and asked, “When will another merchant ship pass through?”

The boatman said, “Hard to say. Sometimes two a day, sometimes none for several days.”

Zhao Changyan frowned.

If small boats weren’t so prone to capsizing in the rapid stretches of the river, she would have just had him take her all the way south.

Fortunately, luck favored her—a large merchant ship arrived at the ferry that very evening.

Ships of that size rarely traveled by night; if the hull struck a rock, the damage and loss of cargo would be disastrous.

They preferred to wait at the dock until morning rather than risk it.

Zhao Changyan paid for her passage with a bag of old-fashioned rock sugar and boarded smoothly.

Rock sugar wasn’t rare in Chu-Yue territory, but the merchant had never seen any so clear and well-formed. Curious, he asked where it came from.

Zhao Changyan replied, “I bought it in Yizhang County. There’s a caravan there that trades in various goods—the sugar came from them.”

She didn’t reveal anything about Zhou Li or the supermarket.

Even if they believed her, it could disrupt her plans.

If they truly wanted that sugar, Dou Dalang was the one they should seek out.

Zhao Changyan then asked, “And where is your ship bound?”

“Prince Xing Prefecture,” the merchant said proudly, showing her his cargo—several iron cages containing jackals, and one holding a tiger.

“I heard the Prince Wei loves fierce beasts, so I caught and trained these specially. When he sees how savage they are, he’ll surely be pleased.”

Zhao Changyan was silent.

Prince Wei was the Great Yue Emperor’s eldest son, only seventeen years old.

But his reputation was terrible.

His father was a depraved tyrant—and he was nothing but a spoiled, arrogant prince.

If not for her desire for revenge, Zhao Changyan would never have chosen to serve such men.

Using what she’d learned from Dou Dalang about Great Yue’s customs, she crafted a false identity—a woman seeking maritime trade opportunities, eager to learn from seafarers.

Seeing that she was traveling alone, the crew figured she must have ways to protect herself and didn’t bother her further.

The merchant ship departed in the morning and moored each night at nearby docks.

When rain came, the river current swelled and pushed them faster downstream.

After only three days, Zhao Changyan arrived at Prince Xing Prefecture.

She went straight to the Celestial Masters Institute.

This was the residence of the royal witches—and one of Great Yue’s official institutions.

The witches enjoyed the emperor’s complete trust and managed state affairs on his behalf, so the institute was always bustling with nobles and opportunists hoping for favors.

Zhao Changyan saw many foreign faces—people in silk clothing, speaking languages she couldn’t understand.

After waiting in line for a long time, it was finally her turn.

She handed the guard an old-style kerosene lamp and said, “By the goddess’s command, I have brought the Celestial Lamp for the Celestial Master.”

The guard blinked and looked her up and down.

Everyone in Great Yue knew that the emperor was obsessed with mysticism and favored the witches.

But no one dared to claim they came “by the goddess’s command.”

That was self-elevation—if she truly served the goddess, she must be one of the goddess’s attendants, perhaps even a celestial child.

To declare oneself such was unheard of.

The guard was momentarily at a loss.

If she’d been a merchant, he would have extorted her.

If she were one of those self-proclaimed mystics, he would have accused her of impersonating the Celestial Masters.

But this woman, saying only that she was here to “deliver the Celestial Lamp”—who could tell what she really was?

“Which goddess? What lamp?” he asked.

Zhao Changyan replied, “Simply tell them—the goddess resides in Yongcheng.”

The guard stiffened.

Everyone in the institute had heard of Yongcheng—the mythical palace of the Queen Mother of the West, where 109 female immortals were said to dwell.

The witches claimed to channel the Jade Emperor himself; they couldn’t possibly ignore someone claiming ties to Yongcheng.

And the lamp she carried—its form was like nothing he had ever seen.

Just for that, he decided it was worth reporting.

He hurried inside to make his report.

Moments later, he returned and bowed deeply. “The Celestial Master invites the Celestial Child to enter.”

[Author’s Note]

Zhao Changyan: When traveling abroad, your identity is whatever you make it.

☢️☢️☢️

When Xian Sanniang learned that Qiao Sinang had brought a band of marauders back, claiming they wanted to meet the goddess, she immediately sent her two children running up the mountain to find the goddess.

First, both of her children could speak the refined tongue.
Second, the goddess’s place was the only truly safe haven.

She waited until the children had reached halfway up the slope before volunteering herself to guide the bandits.

When she met Qiao Sinang, Xian Sanniang’s face was cold, and Qiao Sinang looked visibly uneasy.

But both women knew—they were acting.

After all, Qiao Sinang had led outsiders into the settlement. Whether or not it was for the goddess, her act was still a form of betrayal.

As a villager, Xian Sanniang should appear resentful toward Qiao Sinang.

If she didn’t show anger, the bandits would grow suspicious and assume they were plotting together to trap them.

So, after just a brief glance, the two fell naturally into their roles.

Seeing the lack of interaction between them, the bandit leader became even more certain that the two women couldn’t stir up any trouble.

Still, as they climbed the mountain, he ordered his men to mark the path—just in case they were being led into a trap.

*

Inside the supermarket.

After hearing what the two little children said, Zhou Li wasn’t alarmed at all. Instead, her eyes gleamed with anticipation as she looked toward the entrance.

She asked, “System, can you take on ten of them?”

The system replied, “They’re clearly coming with bad intentions. Why do you sound excited?”

Was this really a for-the-people attitude?

Zhou Li said, “I’m not excited—I’m indignant, heartbroken. Clearly, you systems don’t understand human emotion.”

System: “…”

Zhou Li told the two children to stay hidden inside the supermarket, then turned the external surveillance cameras toward the path outside.

As night fell, Qiao Sinang and Xian Sanniang finally appeared—leading a group of rough, dangerous-looking men.

The ones in front were on horseback, the rest on foot. Several were carrying two blood-drenched corpses.

The men’s hands gripped long blades, their eyes cold and indifferent to life and death.

Qiao Sinang said to the bandit leader, “You shouldn’t have brought the bodies up the mountain. This will anger the goddess.”

The leader gave a derisive laugh.

He had done this deliberately—to intimidate that so-called “goddess.”

If necessary, he planned to prop the corpses up right in front of her “cave.”

But once they reached the top, he paused. The “cave” was far too bright—light from inside illuminated everything within several dozen paces.

No candlelight could burn that bright.

At the border where light met shadow, the bandits stopped.

Xian Sanniang and Qiao Sinang, as if unaware of the tension behind them, continued straight toward the glowing structure.

The leader hesitated briefly, then steeled himself and waved his hand. His men spread out, surrounding the “cave.”

Qiao Sinang and Xian Sanniang’s nerves were taut the entire way up.

Only after stepping through the supermarket doors did they drop the act, worry flashing across their faces.

“Goddess, forgive me!” Qiao Sinang blurted out first.

After all, she had been the one to bring these men here and disturb the goddess’s peace.

Zhou Li silently regarded her without saying a word.

What was this woman even talking about?

Xian Sanniang glanced at Qiao Sinang’s tear-reddened eyes, then at the goddess’s unreadable expression, and stepped forward to plead.

“Godd—Little Boss, Qiao Sinang didn’t mean to bring bandits here. She was forced. Those two bodies outside—they’re the bandits’ doing.”

Just as she spoke, the bandit leader, having finished arranging his men, stepped inside—and caught every word.

He narrowed his eyes, a cold smirk forming. Knew they were lying.

But when he looked around, his sneer faltered.

The spacious building contained only three women and two children—nothing threatening.

And the place didn’t seem to have any hidden traps either.

Then his eyes widened.

There were piles of goods stacked inside—an unbelievable abundance of supplies.

Outside, the other bandits could see it too through the glass.

Their faces lit up with greed.

“We’re rich!”
“No more starving, boys!”
“Who’d have thought people this rich were hiding in the mountains?”
“Look at this woman—so decadent she even used glass for her doors!”

Now, every gaze was fixed hungrily on the supermarket.

Their eyes devoured the sight, minds already planning how to divide the bounty.

Driven by greed, they pressed right up against the glass, practically drooling.

…

The moment the bandit leader entered, the system detected hostility.

However, because no attack had yet occurred, the supermarket’s defensive functions didn’t activate.

Zhou Li herself didn’t show any obvious hostility either.

She said, “Welcome.”

Her calmness unsettled both Xian Sanniang and Qiao Sinang.

In the goddess’s eyes… were they no different from the bandits?

Would she avenge them—or punish them all the same?

The bandit leader turned to Xian Sanniang. “What did she say?”

After a brief hesitation, Xian Sanniang decided to translate truthfully.

The leader chuckled. “At least you’re honest.”

Xian Sanniang stiffened, then realized—he understood the refined tongue!

A deserter turned bandit, he had wandered through many regions and robbed countless merchants.

So whether it was the refined tongue or local dialects, he understood a fair bit of both.

He had only pretended not to understand the refined tongue to see what Xian Sanniang and the others were plotting.

Now that he knew their true nature, he no longer felt any fear.

The bandit leader turned his gaze toward the oddly dressed yet very young and harmless-looking woman—Zhou Li.

He asked in the refined tongue, “You’re the goddess they’ve been talking about?”

Zhou Li smiled slightly. “Just call me Little Boss.”

To the bandits, that timid smile looked like fear.

They sneered. So this was the so-called goddess—just a fraud.

The leader now completely dismissed her.

“I’m asking you—where did all these things come from?”

Zhou Li said, “That’s a trade secret. No comment.”

What a joke—who would casually reveal their supply chain?

The leader’s face darkened. Drawing his blade, he snarled, “Stop pretending to be divine. You’re nothing but a witch deceiving ignorant villagers with cheap tricks!”

Zhou Li, having completed her standard customer service routine, instantly dropped her politeness. “So are you buying anything or not?”

By now, Xian Sanniang and Qiao Sinang had pulled the two children into the corner of the supermarket.

Qiao Sinang felt secretly relieved that the leader hadn’t truly listened to her earlier warnings.

If he had taken her words to heart and treated the goddess with reverence, she wouldn’t have had any chance to avenge their fallen companions.

The bandits didn’t take Zhou Li’s firm tone seriously.

To their ears, her sharp words were just bravado—the louder she spoke, the more scared she must be.

The leader hesitated briefly, then decided to call all his men inside.

Even if the place held traps, his men could serve as shields.

But the bandits, unaware of his sinister thoughts, could no longer restrain themselves. They surged into the supermarket, hands reaching greedily for the goods they’d been eyeing.

The next second, screams of agony tore through the night sky.

…

The bandit leader kept his eyes on Zhou Li, ignoring his subordinates’ chaos.

But when he saw how calm she remained, an uneasy chill crept into his chest.

This wasn’t a bluff. She truly didn’t fear them at all.

What was her trump card?

By the time he thought of questioning Xian Sanniang, it was too late.

He saw his men—those who had tried to grab the merchandise—suddenly clutch at their throats as if strangled by invisible hands.

Their bodies lifted off the ground, suspended in midair, as a gust of wind surged upward beneath them.

Their mouths hung open, desperate for breath, but no air came. Their faces twisted in suffocation.

One man, thrashing wildly, kicked over a shelf—and the moment he touched the ground, his body convulsed, his pants darkening with urine.

A roaring filled the leader’s head.

Now he understood. There were no traps.

The woman before him truly wielded divine power.

He was just beginning to surrender when his own punishment arrived.

…

In the corner of the supermarket, Xian Sanniang, Qiao Sinang, and the two children watched as divine retribution struck the bandits. Tears of relief streamed down their faces.

Even if they knew these men had been driven to banditry by corrupt officials, once the blades had been raised against their own, there could be no reconciliation.

Either the bandits died—or their settlement would.

They had gambled everything, trusting that the goddess would favor the defenseless.

And they had won that gamble.

*

Four minutes passed.

The unconscious bandits were all flung outside.

The human brain suffers permanent damage after four to six minutes without oxygen.

Even if these men didn’t end up brain-dead, they would never be the same again.

Outside, a crowd of refugees had gathered to watch.

Witnessing the goddess’s punishment once more, they felt both vindicated and filled with awe.

Zhou Li stepped out of the supermarket, stood over the bandit leader, and muttered, “Trying to pull a zero-dollar purchase? What do you think this is?”

After muttering, she swept her eyes over the crowd, then turned back inside.

Xian Sanniang and Qiao Sinang were helping her lift the fallen shelves, while the two children mopped up the puddles of urine the bandits had left behind.

They already knew well how to use mops.

Zhou Li glanced at the clock. “Time’s up. Store’s closing.”

Xian Sanniang hurriedly left with her children.

Qiao Sinang, after stepping outside, suddenly turned back—and knelt at the entrance.

Zhou Li, just about to lock the door: “?”

She asked, “What are you doing?”

Qiao Sinang said, “I brought these bandits here. Please, goddess, punish me.”

Even though the divine lady hadn’t punished her earlier, some matters needed resolution.

Otherwise, the families of her two slain companions would never forgive her.

Zhou Li said, “You were clever—using the store’s rules to deal with them. Whether that was right or wrong, there’s no standard. I have no standard for judgment either.”

If the supermarket hadn’t had protective functions, Qiao Sinang’s act would’ve been nothing but dragging disaster to the mountain.

By that logic, Zhou Li should’ve blamed her.

But she wasn’t the type to condemn people over hypotheticals.

That only led to pointless mental exhaustion.

Qiao Sinang couldn’t quite grasp what Zhou Li meant.

As the door closed and the lights inside the supermarket went out, she stayed kneeling, motionless.

Behind her, furious refugees seized the bandits’ blades, tore open the leader’s armor, and stabbed him through the gut—avenging their dead loved ones.

[Author’s Note]

After Qiao Sinang knelt—

Zhou Li: “What’s this? Lost goods aren’t eligible for reimbursement!”
System: “That’s what happens when you don’t buy shipping insurance.”
Zhou Li: “?”
Qiao Sinang: “?”

☢️☢️☢️

No one wanted to be beaten.

And worse—they were facing a band of vicious marauders.

Terrified out of their wits, the captives had long forgotten that, before being caught, they too had carried sickles and hatchets in their hands.

Yet even so, none of them dared be the first to betray the divine lady, fearing divine punishment from above.

Then, Qiao Sinang came running back. “You want to know where the goods came from? Fine. I’ll take you there.”

The bandits froze for a brief moment before rushing forward to seize her.

Qiao Erlang was aghast. “Why did you come back!?”

Looking around at her terrified companions, Qiao Sinang said firmly, “You were hired by me. I brought you out here. It’s my responsibility to protect you.”

The bandits burst out laughing. “Protect them? You can’t even protect yourself!”

Qiao Sinang replied calmly, “They came with me. Even if I can’t protect them, I can’t have the shame of returning alone.”

The bandit leader looked down from his horse, smirking. “So this woman’s got some spirit, at least.”

Qiao Sinang silently cursed him but kept her expression steady. “We bear you no grudge. I know you came for these goods—maybe for something else as well. But allow me to explain who we are and where these came from. After that, you can decide what to do.”

The leader gave a low chuckle. “I’m not in such a hurry anymore. Once I drag you back to my camp, I’ll have plenty of ways to make you talk.”

Qiao Sinang met his gaze coldly. “Actually, any one of us could tell you the truth. So go ahead—kill us all, leave one alive. But—”

Her companions stared at her in shock.

Two cowards screamed, “If you want to die, die yourself! Don’t drag us down with you!”

“Shut up!” Qiao Erlang snapped, losing his patience.

Qiao Sinang had nearly gained control of the situation, and these fools were going to ruin it. Were they afraid the bandits might suddenly grow merciful?

The bandit leader truly did intend to kill—but not her.

Still, something about her composure unsettled him. A woman with this much confidence meant these goods were not ordinary.

He turned to the two cowards. “Tell me where they came from, and I’ll spare your lives.”

At that, fear overpowered faith. The two tripped over each other’s words. “It’s a goddess! There’s a divine lady cultivating on the mountain! We traded for these in her cave!”

The bandits froze—then burst into raucous laughter.

“A goddess? If gods exist, why do they watch the world burn? Why let our families die and our homes fall?”

“In Prince Xing’s Palace, there’s a witch who claims the Jade Emperor possessed her, that she rules in Heaven’s name! So tell me—which is higher ranked, your so-called goddess or hers?”

“And it’s that same witch who ruined our lives!”

If they hadn’t been forced into desperation, they wouldn’t have turned to banditry.

Now these fools dared to mock them with fairy tales!

“I thought you’d at least have a better lie,” the leader sneered—and without hesitation, struck both men dead.

Blood sprayed across the dirt. Everyone trembled, their courage utterly gone.

Even Qiao Sinang’s heart quaked with fear.

But she knew—if she let the bandits take control now, they were all doomed.

Steeling herself, she glared at the leader, her voice sharp as a blade. “I thought you were warriors. Turns out you’re just brutes—no wonder you’re stuck as bandits.”

“You dare insult me!?” the men roared in fury.

But the leader raised a hand. “It seems you really aren’t afraid of dying.”

Qiao Sinang said, “My father once served as a soldier. He died on the battlefield. The weather was hot, and the generals feared the corpses would rot and bring plague, so they burned them all. What came home to us was a handful of ashes, passed off as his remains.”

The leader frowned. What was she trying to say? Did she think reminding him he’d once been a soldier would earn pity?

But Qiao Sinang continued, her tone steady. “I’m not telling you this to beg sympathy. My father used to say that in war, the greatest fear wasn’t the enemy—it was running out of rations.

“When soldiers go hungry, they lose their strength, and their will to fight. So every army, whenever it marched through a town or a village, looted first to fill its bellies.

“A wise general earns loyalty not by his words, but by ensuring his men eat. Feed them, and they’ll fight to the death for you. Let them starve, or drive them to robbery, and soon they’ll turn on you once there’s nothing left to steal.

“So, General—do you want to be the first kind of leader, or the second?”

The bandit leader’s eyes, once filled with disdain, grew serious.

He hadn’t expected such insight from a woman.

And damn it, she made sense.

He didn’t want to remain a bandit forever. He wanted to grow stronger—perhaps even carve out his own domain.

Looking over the trembling captives, he scoffed. “Useless lot. You can’t even measure up to a woman.”

He dismounted and faced Qiao Sinang. “This goddess—what’s her origin?”

Qiao Sinang quietly exhaled in relief.

“She’s a celestial being cultivating in this world. We met her by chance…”

She didn’t hide the story of their encounter.

But the bandits focused on one thing. “She’s alone on that mountain?”

Qiao Sinang nodded. “The goddess practices in solitude. She doesn’t let anyone disturb her.”

A calculating light flickered in the leader’s eyes. “Take us to her.”

He said nothing about what would happen to the others, but it was clear he’d chosen—for now—to spare them.

The prisoners, realizing they’d live, burst into tears of relief.

Qiao Sinang glanced at the two corpses on the ground. “General, please allow us to take them back to their kin.”

“Carry them off,” he said carelessly.

…

On the way back, Qiao Erlang kept glancing at Qiao Sinang, opening his mouth several times but never finding the words.

Qiao Sinang asked, “Second Brother, what is it you want to say?”

Qiao Erlang lowered his voice. “When did Uncle ever say those things?”

After their father was conscripted, he never returned. Every month, he only sent a small sum of money and a short message home.

Paper was expensive, so even a letter had to be written with as few words as possible.

Those things Qiao Sinang said—there was no way they came from their father.

Qiao Sinang answered, “That was something Zhao Changyan told me.”

Qiao Erlang was surprised. “Zhao Changyan?”

“Mm. I learned a lot from her.”

Qiao Erlang sighed. “If Zhao Changyan were here, she’d surely find a way to get us out of this.”

He glanced toward the direction of the mountains. Their family was still there. If they returned now, leading a band of bandits behind them, wouldn’t they bring disaster upon their own people?

But Qiao Sinang was certain. “They won’t kill us.”

Once those men witnessed the goddess’s powers for themselves, they’d understand how important it was to curry her favor.

Besides, there were only about twenty of these bandits. If they wanted to grow their numbers quickly, they needed to preserve manpower.

Most likely, they’d seize both settlements and force everyone under their control.

But with the goddess present, how could she possibly allow that to happen?

*

The bandits marched faster than ordinary travelers.

Qiao Sinang and the others had to jog behind the horses.

When they grew too exhausted, they took turns riding in makeshift wagons—flat carts pieced together from the small folding carts, pulled by the horses for a while.

The bandit leader had taken note of those little carts. The more he looked, the more convinced he became that this so-called “goddess” wasn’t divine at all, but a clever craftsman who used ingenious contraptions to deceive the masses.

He decided to play along for now—to pretend to believe in the “goddess.” Once he uncovered her secret, he would take her down.

Under their relentless pace, it took only one day to reach the fork along the Yangshan Pass ancient road.

Qiao Sinang led the way, her people following eagerly, desperate to return.

The bandits, seeing their urgency, grew even more certain—there must really be a hidden base up ahead.

On the way, they encountered a patrol of villagers.

One of them, seeing Qiao Sinang, called out in surprise, “You sold out your goods so quickly?”

But his expression changed when he spotted the rough-looking men following behind.

Qiao Sinang said calmly, “This general wishes to pay respects to the goddess.”

The villager instantly understood—they had run into bandits!

He barely had time to pity her. The arrival of bandits meant disaster for all of them.

Yet there was nothing he could do; caught up in the crowd, he was swept along toward the settlement.

After all, it wasn’t him who brought the bandits—whether he resisted or not, Qiao Sinang would still lead them there.

And so, the settlements where the refugees from Chu and Yue had gathered were invaded by the bandits.

To the marauders, it was paradise.

Food, shelter, women—it was far better than their ruined hideout in the mountains.

The leader immediately ordered that everyone be rounded up under his control.

Qiao Sinang interjected, “This is Taoyuan—our home. No one here will leave it. Besides, it’s getting late. General, shouldn’t you meet the goddess first?”

“That charlatan? Why wait? We’ll go up the mountain right now and drag her down!” one of the bandits scoffed.

“The goddess enters seclusion precisely at the hour of Hai,” Qiao Sinang replied evenly. “No matter what happens or who calls for her, she cannot be disturbed. And besides, she may depart at any time.”

What she meant, of course, was that Zhou Li and the little supermarket could vanish together.

But the bandit leader misunderstood—he thought the “goddess” was planning to flee under cover of night.

He didn’t want to give her that chance, so he led his men up the mountain immediately.

He left no one behind. Though the villages were filled with old and weak folk, there were still plenty of able-bodied men.

He feared that dividing his forces might lead to their defeat, so he decided to face this “goddess” first.

Just then, Xian Sanniang came running toward them, breathless. “I’ll lead you up the mountain,” she said.

The bandits eyed her warily. “And who are you?”

Xian Sanniang replied, “The goddess dislikes speaking with ordinary folk, but she favors those who can speak in elegant speech. I can speak the refined tongue.”

The bandits exchanged looks.

Favors those who speak the refined tongue? More like that witch only knows the court dialect!

The leader studied her. She didn’t look brave enough to lie—probably just another fool duped by the “goddess.”

“Fine,” he said. “You and Qiao Sinang will lead the way.”

But by then, someone else had already raced up the mountain to warn Zhou Li.

“Goddess! Trouble! Bandits are coming up the mountain!”

[Author’s Note]

Zhou Li: “Someone’s causing trouble? Finally, something to do! System, let’s go!”

System: “…Do you even remember what our job is?”

☢️☢️☢️

Qiao Sinang’s first trade journey did not go smoothly.

When her group reached the official road and began heading north along the Yangshan Pass ancient route toward Guiyang Jian, they encountered a band of refugees also fleeing south.

These refugees had come from Hengzhou.

The state of Chu was tearing itself apart—princes fighting princes, generals carving out their own territories. Chaos reigned.

To the north in Langzhou was the Wuping Army; to the west, the chieftain Xu Shiyu and his allies had crowned the King of Wugang; to the east in Hengzhou, the former King of Chu, Zhao E, had submitted to the neighboring Jing Kingdom.

And as for who claimed legitimacy—it was, of course, Zhao Song, the current King of Chu, who had seized the throne in a coup the previous year.

When the Jing Kingdom sent troops under Zhao E’s banner to attack Chu, the region was thrown into turmoil.

Hengzhou was not far from Guiyang Jian. If the fighting spread, it could easily reach their destination.

Qiao Sinang was deeply anxious.

But with the arrow already drawn, there was no turning back. She had to sell her goods quickly before the situation worsened.

Aside from the threat of war, she also had to deal with the hungry, covetous eyes of the refugees around them.

Remembering Zhao Changyan’s advice, when some refugees first tried to snatch her goods, Qiao Sinang struck without hesitation.

She was injured, but the attacker fared worse—his hand was slashed by her sickle, blood gushing uncontrollably.

Though he managed to stop the bleeding later, fever set in, and he grew weak.

The act not only rallied her companions but also terrified the other refugees.

The wounded man’s family accused Qiao Sinang of cruelty.

Qiao Sinang said, “I am also from Chu. I fled my homeland just like you. Everything you’ve suffered, I’ve suffered too.”

“Then why fight back?” they shouted. If she hadn’t resisted, their son wouldn’t be hurt.

They thought she should have shown sympathy—since she too had known hardship.

Qiao Sinang laughed coldly. “Why shouldn’t I fight back? You want to live, and I should just wait to die? You all can ignore your own starving neighbors, yet I, a stranger, must let you rob me?”

One of them argued, “You have so much—sharing a little won’t kill you.”

Qiao Sinang sneered. “You have two hands and two feet. If I break one or two, you won’t die either, right?”

Qiao Erlang said quietly, “Sinang, there’s no point arguing with them.”

Qiao Sinang huffed. “I pitied you at first because you reminded me of my past. I even planned to sell to you cheap. I didn’t expect you to be this greedy.”

Qiao Erlang backed her up. “Our rice is eighty coins a dou. It’ll sell easily. Better to trade with the locals of Guiyang Jian!”

The refugees from Hengzhou were skeptical.

“Eighty coins? For a whole dou of rice!?”
“Did you mean one sheng instead of a dou?”

Qiao Sinang said, “Can’t you tell the difference between a dou and a sheng? I said a dou, and I mean a full-sized dou!”

A woman suddenly pushed forward, but Qiao Sinang’s companions, fearing another robbery attempt, blocked her.

“I’ll buy a dou,” the woman said, pulling a small pouch from her clothing and taking out eight large coins.

The large coins were made of iron and lead—each worth ten copper coins in local trade.

Qiao Sinang said, “I don’t take large coins.”

Whether lead or copper, Zhou Li’s system only valued them at two or three yuan each. Taking large coins would mean losing money.

The woman froze. “But these large coins were minted by Guiyang Jian! Why won’t you take them?”

The others began to murmur.

Large coins had been worth ten copper coins for years—everyone used them that way. Why was Qiao Sinang refusing?

Qiao Sinang said, “I can take them—if one large coin only counts as one copper coin.”

Realizing their wealth had just been devalued tenfold, the refugees protested loudly.

But that didn’t matter. Qiao Sinang didn’t indulge complaints.

When the crowd tried another tactic, sending women and elderly forward to beg, she remained unmoved. The slight hesitation on her face was just an act.

Pretending to relent, she said, “I told you, I don’t take large coins. But if you pay in copper, I’ll give you a discount—seventy coins a dou.”

Outside, seventy large coins couldn’t even buy one dou, but seventy copper coins could buy one here.

The refugees hesitated. They didn’t have much copper left, so they bargained further.

Finally, they settled on fifty-five copper coins per dou.

Qiao Sinang sold nearly half her rice that way.

It looked like a huge profit, but not nearly as much as it seemed.

She’d realized the divine lady’s “jin” was only about 13.4 liang—roughly 0.84 of a standard jin.

She had bought 200 five-kilogram sacks of rice at 2.8 yuan per jin, totaling 5,600 yuan for 1,680 jin of rice.

That meant 3.33 yuan per jin—or 33.3 yuan per dou (ten jin).

Since the exchange rate for copper coins had dropped to 2.5 yuan each, fifty-five copper coins equaled 137.5 yuan.

After accounting for purchase cost, labor, and time, she only earned a few yuan per jin—and that still had to be split among Dou Niang, Yin Jiao, and others.

Aside from rice, soy sauce became another hot seller.

Qiao Sinang traded some rice for wild vegetables, then cooked them, poured soy sauce on top, and ate right in front of the refugees.

They, lacking salt for weeks, salivated at the sight.

A single bottle of soy sauce cost thirty coins, yet they gritted their teeth and bought it.

Buckets and iron pots were also in high demand.

“What’s this bucket made of? It’s so light and thin!”
“This pot’s made of iron? Why’s it shaped like a turtle shell?”
“Are you selling these strange little carts too?”

Qiao Sinang’s business was booming. Gradually, she let her guard down.

Until danger came.

That morning, she told her people, “Once we finish breakfast, we’ll move on.”

The refugees had bought all they could. Staying longer would bring no more profit—better to head for Guiyang Jian.

But as they neared the border, a sudden clatter of hooves echoed ahead.

A sense of dread rose in Qiao Sinang’s chest. She shouted for everyone to drop the goods and run into the forest.

After so many months of chaos, they had all grown sensitive to the sound of horses and obeyed instantly.

Only two men, unwilling to abandon the goods, tried to carry some as they fled—and slowed themselves down.

Moments later, a band of marauders arrived where they’d dropped the cargo.

Some wore battered armor, riding scrawny horses. Others—twenty or more strong—charged in on foot, carrying axes and blades.

Seeing the scattered goods, they didn’t even pause for breath before diving in to snatch what they could.

Their leader surveyed the area, noted the footprints heading into the woods, and ordered, “Search the forest!”

Soon, the two men who’d lingered behind were caught.

Qiao Erlang and the others were discovered one by one.

“There was a woman with them,” the bandit leader said. “Where is she?”

“Haven’t found her yet,” one of his men replied.

A captured Chu refugee—already beaten—quickly betrayed Qiao Erlang. “That woman’s Qiao Sinang—his sister.”

The bandit leader dragged Qiao Erlang forward and looked him up and down. “Where’s your sister hiding?”

“I—I don’t know,” Qiao Erlang stammered, legs trembling.

“Beat him!”

“I really don’t know!” he cried.

The whip cracked across his back, the pain nearly making him faint.

Then someone shouted, “General, we’re just commoners! We left home only to survive—we’ve done nothing wrong!”

The bandit leader said, “Maybe not. But where did all this come from, then?”

The prisoners went silent. Now they understood—these bandits wanted their goods.

Qiao Erlang realized it too.

These bandits had been led here by the refugees from Hengzhou.

The ones who’d sought out Qiao Sinang were clearly acting in revenge—the man she’d wounded must have told the bandits about her.

To the bandit leader’s surprise, even the refugees who’d quickly betrayed Qiao Erlang refused to say where the goods had come from.

That only piqued his curiosity further.

“Fine,” he said coldly. “Then beat them until they talk.”

☢️☢️☢️

After the distributors’ orders were all fulfilled, the supermarket warehouse suddenly felt much more spacious.

Between restocking and traveling to a new plane, Zhou Li decided to stay in this one a while longer.

First, Qiao Sinang and the others were distributors she had personally developed. She couldn’t just hand them the goods and wash her hands of the matter.

Second, she was curious about what kind of ripple effects Zhao Changyan’s departure would cause here.

And finally, shifting between planes wasn’t easy for the system. Frequent jumps consumed a tremendous amount of energy.

If something happened later and she needed to cross planes urgently, being low on energy would be disastrous.

Besides, time stopped for her in the other worlds.

In other words, she had several times more study time than anyone else.

The system said, “Someone like you, blessed for commerce, wasting talent to take civil service exams—what a loss.”

Zhou Li replied, “My heart beats for serving the people. A system like you could never understand that.”

The system fell silent.

She was joking idly with it when a few refugees suddenly ran in from outside.

They stopped at the supermarket entrance, caught their breath, and then crept in cautiously.

At their head was Xian Sanniang, who looked nervous. “Div— Little Boss.”

Zhou Li said, “Hm? What’s going on?”

Xian Sanniang handed her a piece of wood. “Little Boss, is this valuable timber?”

Zhou Li couldn’t tell, so she uploaded it to the auction system.

【Golden-thread Nanmu (broken branch)】
Age: 122 years
Starting price: 160 (suggested)
Buyout: 200 (suggested)
Note: Intact golden-thread nanmu is worth even more. New timber: ¥100,000 per ton.

Zhou Li told Xian Sanniang, “This is golden-thread nanmu.”

The refugees were overjoyed.

“It really is golden-thread nanmu!”
“That’s imperial wood!”
“Sanya’s luck is unbelievable!”

Listening to their chatter, Zhou Li pieced together the story.

Apparently, a hunter from Great Yue had gone out hunting and encountered a wild boar.

While fleeing, he stumbled deep into a valley, barely escaping with his life. There, he discovered an enormous, thick tree he recognized from the book Xian Sanniang had—The Illustrated Guide to the World’s Precious Woods.

Not wanting to miss a chance even if he was wrong, he climbed up and cut off a branch to bring back for confirmation.

But since the book was too precious, Xian Sanniang refused to lend it out. The hunter had no choice but to tell her everything.

Word quickly spread among the Dou clan.

They compared the wood with the pictures in the book and thought it resembled nanmu—but none could be sure.

Then someone suggested, “Why not take it to the divine lady? Surely she’ll know.”

“Right!”

So the hunter asked Xian Sanniang to bring the branch to Zhou Li, while he hurried back to guard the tree—worried others might find and claim it first.

If it truly was a valuable tree, Xian Sanniang would send people following his markings to locate him.

When Zhou Li confirmed it was golden-thread nanmu, she reminded them, “Intact timber fetches a higher price.”

Xian Sanniang said, “Then we’ll have to warn Sanya not to saw the tree apart.”

But that meant if they wanted to sell it to Zhou Li, they’d have to haul the entire tree up the mountain.

They left to figure it out—no doubt already thinking about how to split the profit.

The group rushed out again.

Zhou Li chuckled softly.

The system asked, “What are you laughing about?”

Zhou Li said, “Don’t you think they’re so much more lively now?”

When she first met them, the refugees had been tightly wound.

They were burdened by the sorrow of displacement, exhausted from long travels, and crushed by the realization that even after meeting the southern Chu people, life up north hadn’t been any better. They were on the brink of despair.

Settling in the mountains had been both resignation and resistance—their final stand against fate.

The supermarket’s appearance had changed that predictable, bleak future into something uncertain.

Now they were nervous, reverent, but also hopeful and eager.

The system said, “The emotional states of customers are not within this system’s monitoring scope.”

Zhou Li didn’t blame the system’s coldness.

To her, the idea of a nonliving AI developing human emotions would have been far more disturbing.

At least she could still think of the system as an artificial intelligence.

If it ever acted otherwise, she’d feel like there was a ghost living inside her body.

…

Zhou Li had no desire to leave the supermarket or wander down the mountain.

Two days later, the refugees returned, hauling a massive tree and laying it down on the clearing a few meters from the supermarket.

It stood 23.5 meters tall, 42 centimeters in diameter—two children holding hands could barely wrap their arms around it.

It had taken eighteen people to haul it up the mountain, even with Xian Sanniang’s clever idea of using the small folding carts from the supermarket to assist.

The system scanned it and reported it weighed at least two tons.

Theoretically, that didn’t require so many people, but the mountain paths were rough, and they couldn’t risk damaging such a valuable tree.

Everyone waited expectantly for Zhou Li’s verdict.

She knew what they were hoping for.

Word had spread that valuable timber could be exchanged for supermarket currency, though she had never confirmed that rumor.

If this tree could indeed be traded for money, it would ignite a frenzy of wood-hunting.

Basing her estimate on the auction system’s valuation, Zhou Li told Xian Sanniang, “This tree is worth twenty-four thousand coins.”

That was twelve thousand per ton—quite a high price for fresh timber.

If it had been aged and stored in the shade for decades, the value would rise even higher.

Xian Sanniang translated the amount into the local dialect for the hunter.

The hunter’s dark, weathered face flushed bright red, his eyes wide as copper bells.

For a moment, Zhou Li worried he might faint from excitement.

But he steadied himself and turned to the others. “Thank you, everyone. I’ll keep my word—one-tenth of the profit goes to you all.”

One-tenth—2,400 coins.

Split among the seventeen others, that was 1,412 each.

He also gave Xian Sanniang an extra share, since without her book, he never would have recognized the tree.

Though the hunter had now become the richest man among the refugees, the others only felt a brief pang of envy before optimism took over.

There were plenty of mountains around—surely someone else would find the next treasure tree!

As soon as the deal was made, the system instantly transferred the tree—leaves and all—to the buyer’s hands.

Everyone knew Zhou Li had divine powers. They’d seen her make small traded goods vanish before, but this was different.

To see a massive tree, hauled up by eighteen men, vanish in the blink of an eye—it restored the awe they’d nearly lost to greed.

The divine lady truly was divine.

Perhaps withdrawn, but vast in power, able to see through all things.

If she could see what happened even at the mountain’s foot, then surely she could also see through their selfish thoughts.

Fearing their greed might offend her, they bowed and hurried away.

Zhou Li issued the hunter a membership card.

The hunter held it carefully and asked, “Divine lady, I believe you should receive incense and worship. I would like to donate money to build a shrine in your honor. What do you think?”

Zhou Li, not understanding the dialect, only smiled at him without reply.

The hunter looked disappointed.

In his mind, the divine lady must understand every dialect—she simply chose not to answer because she did not favor him.

He left dejectedly.

Outside, Xian Sanniang told him, “If the divine lady agreed to a shrine, she’d be accepting the people’s worship—and with that, the duty to protect them. That goes against her wish to remain unbound by mortal karma.”

The hunter’s intention exposed, he grew embarrassed.

“But wouldn’t it be good?” he said stubbornly. “The incense offerings could help her ascend to true immortality, couldn’t they?”

“Everyone has their own path,” Xian Sanniang said. “Even gods have their own ways of cultivation. Why impose human thinking upon a goddess?”

The hunter fell silent.

Inside the supermarket, Zhou Li poked the system. “Isn’t there any way I can understand dialects? A free one?”

It was awkward not to understand what people were saying.

Technically, she shouldn’t even understand the local speech at all.

But the system had built-in voice conversion for trade convenience—so though Zhou Li spoke Mandarin, locals who understood the refined Central Plains dialect could comprehend her perfectly.

However, only one language translation per world was free, based on the region’s common tongue.

To understand other dialects, she would have to pay to unlock them.

The system said, “You could become the top sales representative for the Interplane Trade Division. The champion earns bonus rewards. You could use that reward to purchase permanent multi-plane voice conversion service.”

Zhou Li: “?”

[Author’s Note]

Zhou Li: “Wow, your system really is impressive.”

☢️☢️☢️

“Chang Qiniang?” When Xian Sanniang saw Zhao Changyan appear at her door, she was surprised. “Are you looking for Dalang?”

“No, I’m here for you,” Zhao Changyan said.

Xian Sanniang invited her into the hut.

Zhao Changyan handed over The Illustrated Guide to the World’s Precious Woods.

“This is…”

“A book that teaches people how to recognize valuable wood species. I asked the divine lady for it.”

In truth, it had cost her ninety yuan.

But since she had requested it from the divine lady, it could still be said she had “obtained it through prayer.”

Zhao Changyan said, “The divine lady accepts valuable woods such as nanmu, rosewood, and huanghuali. If one can find even a single tree of such kinds, they would have enough wealth to live comfortably for years.”

Xian Sanniang’s hands trembled slightly. The book suddenly seemed even more precious in her eyes.

“Why… why would you give me such an important book?” she asked. She and Zhao Changyan were not particularly close.

Zhao Changyan said, “Because I already recognize most of the valuable woods. This book is of little use to me.”

Xian Sanniang didn’t refuse it. She said, “Thank you. We’ll remember your kindness. If you ever need help, just ask.”

Zhao Changyan said, “I’ll be heading south soon, to Prince Xing’s Palace. If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”

With that, she left.

Xian Sanniang watched Zhao Changyan’s back as she departed, deep in thought.

When Dou Dalang returned, Xian Sanniang told him what had happened and said, “When you head to Yizhang County, escort her part of the way. Even if she claims the book is of no use to her, the gesture is real. We should respond with gratitude.”

“Alright,” Dou Dalang said. He understood perfectly—Zhao Changyan wanted them to owe her a favor. But as Xian Sanniang said, the book was truly valuable, and returning it wasn’t an option.

Dou Dalang drew a map, marking which paths were safe and which places to be wary of.

Then he went to invite Zhao Changyan to travel with them.

“I heard from Sanniang that you’re heading to Prince Xing’s Palace. Why not come with us for a while? It’ll be safer together.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Here’s the route we took on our way here. If we get separated, you’ll know which way to go. Along the way, I’ll tell you about Great Yue’s customs—and how to deal with its officials.”

Thus, Zhao Changyan’s real goal in giving away the book was achieved.

*

The three major distributors’ trading journeys took away nearly one-third of the refugees.

On the Yue side, Dou Dalang took over twenty laborers and four ox carts.

On the Chu side, because Linwu County was farther away, Chen Wulang took more than thirty people, three ox carts, and three donkey carts.

Four Yue refugees and seven Chu refugees were also hired by Qiao Sinang, with Qiao Erlang accompanying her.

Yin Jiao, Qiao Wulang, and Qiao Jiuniang stayed behind to guard the remaining goods.

At the mountain’s foot, the refugees followed a stream through the ravine and built a two-meter-wide road.

Though it required a detour to reach the main road, it was still far easier than climbing over mountains.

Before leaving, Dou Dalang met with Old Chen.

He said, “We’re taking a lot of goods this time, which will make us targets. Most of our strong men are leaving, and only the old, weak, and women are staying behind. We’ll have to work together—send patrols along the road. If enemies come, retreat behind the gates and defend the village.”

Though they often clashed, Old Chen remained clear-headed at such times.

“When you’re gone,” he asked, “who will take charge?”

“I will,” said Xian Sanniang.

Old Chen looked at her, then at Dou Dalang. Seeing no objection, he nodded.

Once the weather cleared, the merchants departed.

Qiao Sinang had no ox carts or donkey carts, but she had bought many folding carts from the supermarket.

She fixed large planks of wood atop the carts to expand storage space.

On rough terrain, they carried the goods by hand; on smooth roads, they tied the carts together and pulled them forward.

Qiao Sinang also placed the grain and oil—items that were most likely to be looted—on the inside, while stacking pumpkins, sweet potatoes, and corn on the outside.

She had once asked Zhou Li about those things: “This looks like a cold-season melon, that one’s like cassava but isn’t—what are they?”

Zhou Li only told her the names and ways to cook them, without bragging about yields. Without modern agricultural methods, such talk would have been meaningless.

Hearing they were edible, Qiao Sinang bought some to try. Later she realized most people didn’t know these crops or that they could be eaten.

So if robbers appeared, these items might go unnoticed.

She bought more of them and loaded them onto her carts.

After over two hours of walking, they finally reached the main road.

Qiao Sinang was heading north, while Dou Dalang and Chen Wulang were heading south, so they parted ways.

Before leaving, Qiao Sinang said to Zhao Changyan, “You’re going your own way now. I don’t know if we’ll ever meet again. Take this money—you’ll need it someday.”

The money came from Qiao Sinang’s trade with merchants of Great Yue.

Zhao Changyan accepted it without hesitation, then glanced at the sickle hanging from Qiao Sinang’s belt.

She said, “When you’re traveling, keep your blade close. Don’t count on anyone else—no one but yourself is reliable. And don’t fear blood. Anyone who tries to harm you is better off dead than alive.”

Qiao Sinang froze, then silently drew the sickle and gripped it firmly.

“I understand.”

Dou Dalang called for Zhao Changyan to move.

She grabbed the handle of her small cart, loaded with all her belongings, and climbed onto the Yue people’s ox cart as it rolled away.

*

Though there were fewer refugees left in the mountains, the place remained lively.

Xian Sanniang gathered the Yue people and taught them to recognize trees, so that when they found similar ones in the mountains, they could cut them down and bring them back.

The Yue people murmured among themselves:

“So this is nanmu! I’ve heard only the emperor can use it—so that’s what it looks like!”

“No, the emperor uses gold-thread nanmu. It shines when the sun hits it.”

“Why would the divine lady collect this kind of wood?”

“Fool! Such expensive wood is fit for an emperor—surely the divine lady is even more exalted than him!”

“Sanniang, how much is a tree like this worth?”

Xian Sanniang wasn’t sure, but she remembered hearing that a hundred-year-old tree could fetch several hundred strings of cash.

Everyone gasped. “That much!?”

They suddenly realized how many fortunes they’d missed in their lives.

From that day on, whenever they passed a tree, they would look up and examine it carefully, wondering if it might be a valuable species.

The news soon reached the Chu people.

Old Chen went to confirm it with Xian Sanniang, but she was evasive.

When the Chu realized the Yue wouldn’t share how to identify valuable wood, they began tailing them. Whenever a Yue person showed interest in a tree, the Chu would quietly note its characteristics.

And so, during this “Everyone Find a Tree” craze, a few genuinely valuable trees were indeed discovered.

[Author’s Note]

Event: Everyone Find a Tree.
Initiator: Zhou Li.
Zhou Li: “???”

☢️☢️☢️

Qiao Sinang had also bought plenty of general goods—iron pots, tarpaulins, buckets, bedding, and small carts among them.

When she finally moved everything outside onto the open ground, she realized belatedly that she hadn’t hired enough people to help.

Even Dou Dalang and Chen Wulang, who were waiting in line, couldn’t help feeling a surge of envy as they watched.

There was so much cargo, yet they knew that once it reached the county, it would sell out in no time.

They both regretted not placing larger orders while they had the chance.

After checking through her list, Qiao Sinang suddenly remembered something. She quickly grabbed her flashlight and asked, “divine lady, do you still have more of these glowing iron tubes?”

Her flashlight was one she’d bought after seeing Zhao Changyan purchase one earlier.

A tool that could shine as bright as daylight at night was far more practical and affordable than oil lamps or candles.

Zhou Li said, “No, they’re gone.”

After the refugees discovered the usefulness of flashlights, they’d quickly bought up every last one.

It was only later that Zhou Li remembered flashlights used lithium batteries and needed recharging.

Once the battery ran out, it could only be recharged at her shop—meaning that if she wasn’t around, they were useless.

So instead of restocking flashlights, she decided to order old-fashioned kerosene lamps.

Kerosene lamps, a relic from the last century, were now rarely seen except in temples or remote villages—if not for that lingering demand, they would’ve been discontinued long ago.

Zhou Li purchased two hundred lamps and several hundred catties of smokeless butter oil.

When Qiao Sinang heard there were no more flashlights, she was disappointed—but also secretly pleased.

The fewer people owned something, the more valuable it became.

Zhou Li took out a kerosene lamp and said, “How about this oil lamp instead?”

She demonstrated how to use it—insert the wick, add butter oil, light it, adjust the flame, and place the glass cover.

Qiao Sinang immediately decided to take twenty lamps and a hundred catties of butter oil.

*

After finishing deliveries for the three major distributors, Zhou Li realized it was already three hours past opening time.

By now, even more refugees had gathered outside the supermarket.

Some peeked through the glass nervously, unsure whether they were allowed to enter, while others crowded around to gawk at the mountains of goods being counted by Qiao Sinang, Dou Dalang, and Chen Wulang.

“The goddess really gave them that much stuff!”

“Of course—do you think the goddess would lie?”

“Tsk, wasn’t it you just two days ago doubting her?”

“Don’t talk nonsense! I would never be disrespectful to the goddess!”

Inside, Zhou Li slumped in her chair, exhausted.

System: “They’re the ones hauling all the cargo. You’re just talking—how are you tired?”

Zhou Li: “…”

Just then, she noticed Zhao Changyan standing in the outdoor goods section.

Sensing her gaze, Zhao Changyan picked up a storage bag printed with a picture of a tent and asked, “Little Boss, is this a field tent?”

Zhou Li nodded. “Yes. I usually call it a tent. It’s smaller than a military field tent—so small you can’t even stand upright inside—but the one you’re holding sleeps two, keeps out wind and rain, and blocks mosquitoes.”

Zhao Changyan’s eyes lit up. “Do you have a larger one?”

“The largest I have can fit four people. Anything bigger—like the kind used for construction or disaster relief—has to be custom-made.”

Zhao Changyan thought for a moment, then smiled. “I’ll take this one.”

Zhou Li pointed behind her. “From now on, you can check out over there yourself. The amount will show on the screen—just place your card on the reader and swipe.”

Zhao Changyan had already noticed that strange metal box before, but since Zhou Li hadn’t mentioned it, she hadn’t dared touch it.

“Is that… a divine artifact too?” she asked in awe.

Zhou Li replied vaguely, “…Mm.”

She showed Zhao Changyan how to use it. “Every item has a code made of thick and thin black lines. Point it at this red light here, and the price will appear on the screen.”

The self-checkout machines had already been set to display traditional Chinese characters; only the prices still appeared in Arabic numerals.

But that didn’t bother Zhou Li.

After all, by now most of the refugees who shopped regularly could recognize Arabic numbers.

When Zhao Changyan saw the tent appear on the screen of the “divine artifact,” she was once again stunned by Zhou Li’s powers.

Zhou Li returned to her seat behind the main counter to rest.

Other refugees, seeing Zhao Changyan shopping, quickly gathered around her, chattering, “Chang Qiniang, what’s that thing?”

Zhao Changyan patiently repeated everything Zhou Li had told her.

The store instantly erupted in gasps and murmurs of wonder.

After paying, Zhao Changyan pulled out her flashlight and said, “Little Boss, I have another question.”

Zhou Li glanced at the flashlight and guessed, “Out of power?”

“Little Boss truly sees through everything.”

Zhou Li laughed. “Not really. No matter how durable a flashlight is, after this many days, the battery’s bound to be dead.”

Zhao Changyan asked, “How do I… replenish its power?”

She chose her words carefully—half wondering if she needed to summon the goddess of lightning herself.

Perhaps the lights in the goddess’s temple drew power from that very deity!

Zhou Li didn’t bother explaining how electricity worked. She just said, “I can recharge it here. One copper coin for three full charges.”

The supermarket didn’t officially offer charging services, and she couldn’t deduct it from membership cards. The electricity used would come out of her own bill.

System: “That’s highway robbery! A full charge only costs 0.17 kilowatt-hours.”

Zhou Li replied, “And you’re the one who tripled the rates in the first place. Besides, copper coins are dropping in value.”

Ever since the influx of copper and lead coins into the auction system, their value had fallen from 3 yuan to 2.8—and it was still declining.

She needed the refugees to realize that even their money could depreciate here.

System: “…”

Zhao Changyan noted that Zhou Li specifically said “copper coins.”

Though she didn’t understand why the Little Boss had started accepting mortal currency, she didn’t question it.

She took out a Chu coin and handed it, along with the flashlight, to Zhou Li.

“Come back in half an hour,” Zhou Li said.

*

Zhao Changyan didn’t leave after buying the tent. Instead, she wandered the aisles again and eventually bought a folding cart, an elastic rope, a soup pot, a raincoat, an umbrella, an alarm clock, several bars of soap, and some food and water.

Zhou Li asked, “You’re traveling?”

Zhao Changyan wasn’t surprised Zhou Li had guessed.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m heading south, to the Prince Xing’s Palace.”

That palace was the capital of Great Yue.

When Zhao Changyan fled, she had planned to go to Xuzhou to seek refuge with her uncle, Xu Shiyu, the regional governor.

But the route from Changsha to Xuzhou had been cut off.

Left with no choice, she decided to head south into Chenzhou territory, then move north from Guizhou toward Xuzhou.

The supermarket’s appearance, however, had changed her plans.

The road to Xuzhou was not only long but full of unpredictable dangers.

Better to head for the capital first, establish herself, and then contact her uncle later.

Rumor had it the emperor of Great Yue was a debauched tyrant—he favored sorceresses, eunuchs, and female officials, leaving all governance to them.

To scholars, he was a foolish despot. To the people, he was a bloodsucker whose endless taxes drove them into exile or banditry.

But to Zhao Changyan, his incompetence meant opportunity.

And the “divine lady” might just be her way up.

Thinking this, she glanced at Zhou Li, then quickly lowered her gaze.

“Little Boss…”

“Yes?” Zhou Li asked.

Zhao Changyan opened her mouth but swallowed her words. “It’s nothing.”

Zhou Li handed her the recharged flashlight. “Here. Since you’re leaving, do you want me to refund the balance on your card?”

“If I survive the journey to the Prince Xing’s Palace,” Zhao Changyan said, “I’ll definitely come back.”

Then she added, “But if I want to bring useful items for the road, do you have any recommendations?”

Zhou Li handed her a multi-tool folding knife and a few boxes of matches.

Then she remembered Zhao Changyan had once asked for a book on identifying valuable woods.

So she had bought one online: The Illustrated Guide to the World’s Precious Woods.

“This is the book you wanted—the one that teaches how to recognize fine wood.”

Zhao Changyan immediately set down her things and reverently opened the book.

Seeing that the illustrations were perfectly lifelike, she exclaimed, “Little Boss, have you sealed the trees inside the book? Such craftsmanship is truly divine!”

Zhou Li: …

☢️☢️☢️

On the first day after the small supermarket disappeared, the refugees stood on the empty mountaintop, uneasy and disappointed.

On the second day, Dou Dalang went up the mountain to check.

The supermarket was still gone.

By the third day, the people from Chen Family Village could no longer hold back. They went to find Zhao Changyan, who was working at the foot of the mountain.

Zhao Changyan said, “It’s only been three days. What are you so anxious for? Are you running out of food and water already?”

Chen Wulang said, “The divine lady hasn’t said when she’ll return. We can’t help but worry something might have happened to her.”

Zhao Changyan chuckled. “What could possibly happen to the divine lady? Instead of fretting about her, you’d be better off building your settlements while she’s gone. That way, when she returns, you’ll have people free to deliver goods to Linwu County.”

Although they were still a little dissatisfied, everyone admitted she had a point.

Especially now that both Chu and Yue refugees were staking out territory—each afraid the other would seize the best land first.

They really didn’t have many hands to spare.

The Yue people followed their own customs, building stilt houses and putting a gate outside their settlements.

The Chu people built temporary wooden sheds first, then compacted earth to make sturdier homes.

During this time, Dou Dalang and Old Chen discussed the matter and decided to jointly send workers to build a road connecting their villages to the Yangshan Pass trade route.

They also planned to improve the path up the mountain, or else hauling goods down would take far too long.

By the seventh day, Qiao Sinang was growing restless.

For days she had been recruiting laborers.

For the sake of money, five men had come forward to sign up.

She offered them two payment options.

The first was in Chu currency: 100 coins per day, with two meals provided while escorting the goods.

The second was payment using supermarket funds: 70 coins per day, with one meal provided.

Since money from the membership cards couldn’t be transferred, they could receive equivalent goods instead.

Unsurprisingly, everyone chose the second option.

But their wages wouldn’t start until the goods began moving, and since the supermarket had yet to reappear, they were growing impatient.

Pressed from all sides, Qiao Sinang was so anxious she barely slept.

Late one night, she finally drifted off—only to wake again a short while later.

Restless, she stepped out of her hut and noticed the sky seemed faintly bright.

Then her eyes widened.

It wasn’t dawn at all—the mountain itself was glowing, lighting up the night sky!

Only the supermarket could shine that brightly.

Realizing what it meant, Qiao Sinang hurried to wake her aunt, Yin Jiao.

“It’s morning already?” Yin Jiao mumbled.

Qiao whispered, “Shh, don’t make a sound. I think the goddess has returned.”

Yin Jiao gasped and quickly got up. “Then what are you standing there for? Let’s go!”

“I know.”

Qiao Sinang woke Qiao Wulang and told him to inform Qiao Erlang and Qiao Jiuniang of their whereabouts after dawn.

Then aunt and niece took the flashlights they’d bought from the supermarket and started up the mountain.

Had they been living near the Yangshan Pass trail, they would never have dared to climb at this hour.

But since the Chu and Yue refugees had cleared large areas around their valley settlements for timber, wild beasts had been driven off or killed.

The mountain paths had also been roughly repaired—safe enough to travel.

Halfway up, they noticed several other lights flickering in the distance.

Qiao Sinang suddenly slowed her pace.

“Auntie, let’s not rush. Take it slow.”

The slope was still steep, and it would be easy to slip if they hurried.

Yin Jiao said, “We should hurry before others get there first.”

Qiao Sinang replied, “The supermarket never opens before sunrise. Even if we reach it first, we’ll still have to wait for daylight.”

By now, others had noticed the goddess’s return—perhaps because they saw the glow, or maybe because they’d seen her and Yin Jiao climbing. Either way, the secret wouldn’t last long.

Hearing this, Yin Jiao sat down on a rock with a sigh. “Then let’s rest a bit. I’m exhausted.”

They rested until the lights behind them drew closer.

When they finally met, it was familiar faces—Chen Wulang and Dou Dalang.

“Qiao Sinang, so it was you two,” Chen Wulang said.

Qiao greeted them. “Up late, aren’t you? Chen Wulang, Dou Dalang.”

“I sensed the goddess’s return,” Chen Wulang said solemnly.

Qiao Sinang rolled her eyes. It wasn’t a “sense”—he’d obviously seen the light.

“Since we’ve met, let’s go together,” said Dou Dalang.

Neither Qiao Sinang nor Yin Jiao objected.

They continued upward.

Soon the slope eased and the terrain opened up, revealing the familiar three-story building.

But to their surprise, someone was already there.

“Chang Qiniang!?”

They recognized the figure at the door—it was Zhao Changyan.

“How is she faster than us?” Chen Wulang muttered.

Qiao Sinang said, “She’s been living on the mountain lately.”

Dou Dalang nodded. “No wonder she has the divine lady’s favor.”

In truth, Zhao Changyan simply preferred to stay away from the others.

Though there was safety in numbers at the foot of the mountain, the real danger for her came from the people.

Living alone up here was, ironically, much safer.

*

Zhao Changyan saw Qiao Sinang and the others but didn’t greet them.

Her attention was fixed on the supermarket—the lights inside were on.

Through the glass, she could see that the interior had changed dramatically, filled with many unfamiliar goods.

When Qiao Sinang and the others saw the shelves piled high, their anxiety finally melted away.

“Where’s the divine lady?” Yin Jiao asked, pressing her face to the glass.

Just then, a mechanical voice boomed from a speaker: “Outside business hours.”

Startled, they all jumped back several paces.

Then, in unison, they bowed and shouted, “We humble people greet the divine lady!”

There was no reply, but none of them dared approach again.

*

Meanwhile, Zhou Li slept soundly, unaware of any of this.

The next morning, she came downstairs after breakfast—and froze.

All the supermarket lights were on.

Her heart sank.

After all, electricity during interdimensional travel cost three times the normal rate.

If her mother saw the power bill after last night’s light show, she’d kill her.

“System! Why didn’t you turn off the lights!?”

“Oh,” said the system innocently, “I thought you wanted to bring warmth to the refugees.”

Zhou Li: “…”

Electricity this expensive, and you want to bring me emotional warmth?

She decided not to argue.

Though it wasn’t yet opening time, she noticed people gathered outside and went to open the door.

Zhao Changyan and the others, who had been feeding mosquitoes for hours, rushed forward immediately.

“Divine lady!”

“Little Boss!”

Zhou Li smiled and nodded to them.

Skipping pleasantries, she turned to her biggest distributor. “Did you bring the order?”

“Yes!” Qiao Sinang quickly handed her the sheet she’d been clutching in her palm.

“No need to give it to me. Keep it and check as we go,” Zhou Li said, leading her into the storage area.

Qiao Sinang had ordered 200 five-kilogram bags of rice.

This rice was ordinary indica rice from Lingnan—coarse and not very fragrant, but cheap at 28 yuan a bag.

Where there’s rice, there’s oil.

The supermarket stocked peanut, corn, sesame, and canola oils.

The first three smelled richer but cost more.

Qiao Sinang figured oil was oil—cheaper meant easier to sell.

So she bought fifty five-liter containers of corn oil.

She also purchased soy sauce, white pepper, and sugar, among other seasonings—even fermented tofu, though not salt.

Salt was too risky. At 2.5 yuan a bag here, it could fetch hundreds or even thousands of coins outside—but any salt not from an official source was considered contraband.

If the authorities caught her selling private salt, it would mean execution.

White pepper, on the other hand, was far safer—and even more profitable.

Once reserved only for nobles, it sold for just 12 yuan per 45-gram bottle in the supermarket.

Worried that selling too much might attract unwanted attention from powerful buyers, she limited herself to 500 bottles, planning to sell them gradually.

☢️☢️☢️

With her mother finally giving her full authority, Zhou Li immediately began reorganizing the supermarket’s layout.

She reduced the number of shelves and grouped similar products of different brands together to save space.

Price tags were placed side by side; even if customers didn’t read them carefully, the register would still display the correct prices at checkout.

She then added two new sections: a fresh produce area and an outdoor goods section.

The inspiration for the outdoor goods came from the refugees’ survival needs.

She thought, If people had tents, who would still want to sleep under the open sky?

Even if the refugees couldn’t afford them, there would always be a market for such items in other worlds.

However, most outdoor gear manufacturers only partnered with specialty stores or large supermarkets.

Her little shop was far too small, and it was doubtful any factory would bother supplying her directly.

So she created an account on a wholesale platform and decided to source from there instead.

A two-door, two-window tent with a moisture-proof mat that could fit 2–4 people cost about 100 yuan wholesale, with a one-unit minimum order.

On retail platforms, the same tent went for at least 180 yuan.
In physical stores, the price would easily reach 200–300 yuan.

After some negotiation with the supplier, Zhou Li secured 30 small tents at 93 yuan each and 20 six-person tents at 128 yuan each.

Along with tents and mats, she also ordered portable stoves and kettles—essential camping gear.

Although her supermarket already sold electric kettles, she knew stainless steel ones would be more practical in places without electricity.

Since some refugees had brought ceramic pots for boiling water and were used to making outdoor fires, Zhou Li didn’t stock too many stoves or kettles.

Instead, she ordered 500 thermos bottles.

Whether made of 304 or 316 stainless steel, the 500ml flasks cost only 15 yuan each wholesale.

She planned to sell the 304 ones for 29 yuan and the 316 ones for 59 yuan.

Now that she had distributors, she wasn’t worried about those 500 flasks failing to sell.

*

After purchasing most of the items on her procurement list, Zhou Li asked Mu Kun to watch the store and then rode her electric scooter to the town’s large supermarket to observe and learn.

When she checked out, she noticed the self-service checkout machines.

An idea struck her. “System, can you integrate with those machines?”

“Of course,” replied the system.

After all, the current checkout system in her supermarket was already being managed by it.

Zhou Li immediately called her mother. “Mom, I want to install two self-checkout machines in the supermarket.”

Zhou Hao sounded incredulous. “Two? Our tiny village store needs self-checkout machines?”

“Then one,” Zhou Li said quickly.

Zhou Hao sighed. “Fine, I’ll order it.”

“Oh, and the two freezers we have aren’t enough anymore. Let’s get another one.”

Previously, one freezer held ice cream and the other held frozen foods.

She planned to use the new one for meat and other perishable items.

Zhou Hao agreed.

Zhou Li returned home feeling refreshed.

At the entrance, Mu Kun was swatting flies. Seeing her, she called out, “You’re remodeling the supermarket again?”

She said “again” because the shop had originally been a general store.

After the two roads near the village were built, Zhou Hao had quickly renovated it overnight into a small convenience-style supermarket.

Zhou Li smiled. “Not remodeling, just rearranging the space.”

She paused, then asked, “By the way, Aunt Mu, do you know where I can buy farming tools?”

“Farming tools? You mean like hoes?”

“Exactly.”

“Your mom used to sell them back when the store was still a general shop. But once fewer villagers were farming—and since a good hoe lasts for years—she stopped selling them. Why, you planning to stock some?”

Zhou Li nodded. “Yes.”

“There aren’t really any farming tool shops left in town now, but on market days you can find peddlers selling them by the roadside.”

“When’s the next market day?”

“Tomorrow—but you’ll need to go early. They pack up by late morning.”

Zhou Li thanked her.

Just then, customers arrived at the snail noodle shop, and Mu Kun waved her off and went back inside.

*

The next morning at 6:30, before the supermarket opened, Zhou Li gulped down a boiled egg, hopped on her scooter, and headed to the market.

The town was lively—vendors lined the roadside selling buckets, brooms, tissue, clothes, and more.

After circling the area and adding several small peddlers on WeChat, she finally found an elderly couple in their sixties selling farm tools.

On a patch of yellow mud covered with striped tarp, they displayed hoes, shovels, and rakes bundled neatly together, with wooden handles stacked nearby.

Customers chose a tool, and the couple assembled it on the spot.

Prices were 30 yuan for a hoe, 15 for a shovel, 12 for a rake, and 8 for a sickle.

Zhou Li had checked prices online beforehand.

Small garden hoes cost as little as 18 yuan but were too flimsy for real farming—they’d break in no time.

Heavy-duty hoes cost around 35 yuan.

The couple’s hoes, however, were the sturdy, full-weight kind—thick, heavy, and durable enough to last over a decade.

Zhou Li asked, “If I buy everything, can you give me a discount?”

The couple didn’t quite hear her. “Huh?”

She repeated the question louder.

The old man shook his head at first—standard bargaining ritual.

Zhou Li smiled. “It’s not easy hauling all this heavy stuff out here. If I buy everything, you can pack up early. You won’t lose out.”

The old woman hesitated, then said, “Twenty-nine per hoe.”

“Twenty-four.”

“No, no, not that low. At least twenty-eight.”

After several rounds of haggling, they settled at twenty-seven yuan per hoe, with small discounts on the other tools as well.

The old woman counted their stock while the old man, grinning, asked if Zhou Li wanted them to attach the handles.

“No need,” Zhou Li said, “but could you deliver them to my store?”

The couple had a flatbed tricycle. Zhou Li helped load the tools, then led them back to her shop on her scooter.

She guided them to the back entrance and stored everything neatly in the warehouse.

After paying, she gave each of them a bottle of water.

The old woman glanced at the storefront and asked uncertainly, “This is… Zhou Hao’s place, right?”

Zhou Li was surprised. “You know my mom?”

The woman smiled. “Of course. Years ago, she bought quite a few tools from us—back when this was still a general store.”

Zhou Li laughed. “I see!”

After the couple left, she reviewed her checklist. “Grains, oil, condiments, drinks, cookware, tools… fresh food can wait for now.”

She planned to order vegetables, meat, and poultry in advance and have them delivered on the day she traveled again.

For the remaining odds and ends, she placed bulk orders through the same wholesale platform.

*

While Zhou Li was busy from dawn till dusk, Mu Kun was enjoying her leisure.

She came over to chat and noticed the large pile of goods stacked outside. “Aren’t you afraid of theft? I left a few boxes of soy milk outside the other day, and two bottles disappeared in a blink.”

Zhou Li sighed. “The inside’s a total mess right now—no space to move. I’ll bring it all in once the shelves are set up.”

“Good thing the city inspectors don’t come this far into the village,” Mu Kun muttered.

“Once everything’s in order, it’ll be fine.”

Mu Kun didn’t argue, but she often sat outside on a stool, keeping half an eye on things.

*

Two days later, the self-checkout machine arrived and was installed.

The suppliers delivered the new stocks of rice, oil, and flour.

The items Zhou Li ordered online also arrived one after another.

The supermarket’s shelves were reorganized, items neatly categorized, and new price tags attached.

Each tag now included both simplified and traditional Chinese alongside Arabic numerals.

Once everything was ready, Zhou Li contacted the vegetable vendors and butchers she’d added on WeChat, asking them to deliver fresh produce and meat before 10 p.m.

Before departing for the other world, she made one final check of her inventory.

Her eyes paused on the crossed-out “medications” section. After a moment’s thought, she went next door.

“Aunt Mu, I’m heading into town. Can you keep an eye on the store?”

“Go ahead,” said Mu Kun.

Zhou Li hurried to the town’s pharmacies to buy common over-the-counter medicines.

There were nine pharmacies in total, and she visited every single one, stocking up generously.

These drugs were bought in her own name, not entered into the supermarket’s system—since she didn’t have a pharmaceutical license, she couldn’t legally sell them in-store.

That night, around 8 p.m., the butcher arrived with a freshly slaughtered pig, cut into sections exactly as Zhou Li had requested.

A bit later, the vegetable vendors delivered their produce.

Some of the vegetables came directly from local farmers in the village.

Zhou Li weighed, packed, and labeled all the meat and vegetables herself.

By the end, her back ached so badly she could hardly straighten up.

The system prompted her, “Your scheduled time has arrived.”

Zhou Li checked the clock—10 p.m. sharp.

She locked up the store. “Let’s go.”

[Author’s Note]

Zhou Li: I’m exhausted. [collapses] “System, why don’t you have an ‘auto-restock’ feature?”

System: “I’m a trade system, not a supply system.”

Zhou Li: “…” [rolls eyes]

—

Because prices vary by region, all prices in this story are based on those around the area where the author buys instant noodles.

☢️☢️☢️

News of Zhou Li’s upcoming departure quickly spread among the refugees.

At first, their concern was that they still had unused balances on their membership cards. But soon, that anxiety turned into fear of a looming shortage of supplies.

The three new distributors, who had just spent large sums to secure dealership rights, grew even more nervous. They surrounded Zhao Changyan, pressing her for details.

Only when Zhao Changyan said, “There’s no need to worry. The Little Boss has merely gone into seclusion so that she may bring blessings to more people across the land,” did they fall silent.

“Is that true?” someone asked suspiciously.

Zhao Changyan frowned. “How dare you doubt the divine lady? Before you suspect her of running off with your money, think first of all the food, clothing, and tools you’ve received these past days. Search your hearts—have you truly lost anything?”

She deliberately switched her way of addressing Zhou Li—calling her “the divine lady” instead of “the Little Boss”—to further emphasize her sacred status.

The refugees were speechless.

They knew perfectly well the real worth of the items they had traded away.

Take Xian Sanniang’s lacquer box for example—sold elsewhere, it might have fetched a few hundred coins at most. That amount could buy only one dou of rice in this chaotic era.

But in Zhou Li’s supermarket, a dou of rice cost only thirty-six coins.

Every household had managed to store at least one shi of rice.

Not to mention the precious oil, salt, and sugar—things they’d never had such steady access to before.

Since the supermarket appeared, they’d been eating better and feeling stronger.

When clearing land and building shelters, their efficiency had improved dramatically.

Beyond physical change, the supermarket had given them something even rarer—hope.

Their lives now had direction again.

Yet that hope came with growing dependence.

Xian Sanniang sighed. “Please forgive everyone, Qiniang. We’ve suffered through too many bitter years. When a divine lady suddenly appears and then disappears again, it’s natural for people to feel uneasy.”

Zhao Changyan understood her feelings.

When she’d first heard Zhou Li speak of leaving, she too had felt that same nervous, reluctant fear.

Even though Zhou Li had warned her from the beginning that she would eventually have to go, Zhao Changyan hadn’t yet realized what the supermarket’s presence truly meant to these people.

She said, “The divine lady has already said she will depart tomorrow, but only temporarily. So, she will lift the purchase limits today. She also promised that if anyone truly fears she won’t return, they may request a refund of their remaining balance.”

Zhou Li, anticipating that some might attempt to withdraw funds, had used her own savings to exchange for some of their coins—at a fixed rate of one coin for three yuan—and had Zhao Changyan handle the process.

Since the refugees had no outside trade, their coins circulated only among themselves.

Zhao Changyan thus easily collected several thousand coins—some copper, some lead.

Lead coins were called “big coins,” each worth ten copper coins.

But to Zhou Li, whether lead or copper, each was worth only three yuan.

Naturally, most refugees had no intention of canceling their cards.

How could a single coin in their hands ever buy as much as a yuan could in the supermarket?

Still, one clever fellow thought, If I refund my balance and then later exchange my coins again at three yuan each, wouldn’t my money triple?

But Zhou Li had already foreseen that trick.

After all, in the modern world there was a similar scheme—illegal foreign exchange trading—profiting from rate gaps between multiple currencies.

So she had Zhao Changyan relay a new rule: “Anyone who cancels a card may not reapply for another membership or trade items for money within one year.”

That was practically the same as being banned from the supermarket altogether.

The schemers immediately abandoned their plans.

The divine lady, it seemed, could read their very thoughts!

Their awe of Zhou Li grew even deeper.

*

Fearing Zhou Li might be gone for a long time, the refugees rushed to the supermarket before her departure, making massive purchases while the limits were lifted.

By the end of the day, most shelves were empty.

Only the least practical or least desirable items remained.

That night, as Zhou Li went over the remaining inventory, she said, “The drinks aren’t selling well—probably because of the price. A single bottle of soda costs as much as a jin of rice. For these people, that’s a luxury item. I’ll order less next time.”

Ice cream wasn’t selling either.

The children loved it, of course, but only a few parents were willing to spend several coins on something that melted after a few licks.

Stationery had barely sold at all, since most refugees couldn’t read or write.

Then Zhou Li heard Zhao Changyan’s voice from outside.

“Little Boss.”

Zhou Li turned to see Zhao Changyan standing at the doorway, bowing formally.

Zhou Li blinked in confusion.

Before she could speak, Zhao Changyan’s figure faded into the night.

Zhou Li tilted her head, puzzled, then shut the door and whispered excitedly to the system, “System, gogogo!”

At the peak of Qitian Ridge, a burst of white light flashed. The dense fog churned and scattered.

The next morning, when the refugees climbed up the mountain to check if Zhou Li had truly left, they found the mountaintop empty—no trace of the supermarket remained.

If not for the marks pressed into the ground where it had once stood, they might have believed the whole thing had been a dream.

*

China, New Union Village, Changtian Town, M City.

The moment she returned to her own world, Zhou Li flung open the door and ran outside.

She saw the familiar road, the crosswalk lights counting down, and the elevated railway not far away…

Everything looked just as it had before.

Then the rich aroma of snail noodles drifted over from next door.

Zhou Li ran toward it and saw Aunt Mu, the owner of the shop, sweeping the floor.

“Aunt Mu, you’re closing this early?” she asked, beaming.

Mu Kun looked up and said, “Yeah—if I don’t close now, won’t I be disturbing the neighbors?”

Zhou Li muttered inwardly, Oh, so you do know what ‘disturbing the neighbors’ means?

She still couldn’t understand why anyone would open a snail noodle shop right at the entrance of the village.

Sure, Mu Kun ran it out of her own self-built house—but couldn’t she have chosen to sell anything else?

In the village group chat, Mu Kun had been complained about countless times because of the stench of snail noodles.

And of all the residents, the one who suffered most was the Zhou family’s little supermarket next door.

Zhou Hao and Mu Kun had argued about it many times.

During durian season, Zhou Hao would even pile up durians at the entrance of the supermarket just to “return the favor” to Mu Kun, who hated the smell, turning it into a full-blown olfactory war.

Mu Kun squinted at Zhou Li. “Were you just cursing me in your head?”

Zhou Li’s face stayed perfectly calm. “Of course not.”

Mu Kun said, “When Zhou Hao curses me silently, she wears the exact same face you have right now.”

Zhou Li: “…”

She forced a dry laugh. “It’s getting late, Aunt Mu. You should rest early.”

And before Mu Kun could say another word, Zhou Li slipped back into the supermarket and shut the door.

She wasn’t worried about anyone discovering that she and her supermarket had traveled through worlds.

Because no matter how long she stayed in another realm, time in her own world was completely frozen.

Naturally, her own body’s time was frozen too.

So there would be no case of “spending fifty years in another world and returning as an old woman.”

That was one of the perks of being bound to the system—she could gain decades of experience and knowledge within just a few years of her real-world time.

*

It was only 10:05 p.m., and Zhou Li wasn’t the least bit sleepy.

She called her mother, Zhou Hao.

The call connected, and as soon as Zhou Li said, “Mom,” Zhou Hao launched into a tirade.

“Zhou Xiaoli! Did you flood the whole mountain fighting the River Spirit? Why is the water bill so high this month? And the electricity bill—”

Zhou Li: “…”

She thought of all the refugees who had used the supermarket bathroom to wash off mountain leeches.

Surely they couldn’t have run up the bill that badly… right?

The system spoke up. “Oh, I forgot to mention—maintaining the supermarket’s utilities across dimensions comes at a cost. During interplane operations, your water and electricity bills are tripled.”

Zhou Li was stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!?”

The system countered, “If I told you, would you have stopped using water and electricity?”

Zhou Li replied, “No—but I would’ve charged the refugees for it.”

System: “…”

You really can’t take a single loss, can you?

To avoid more nagging, Zhou Li quickly changed the subject. “Mom! I got over thirty people to sign up for memberships at the supermarket!”

Zhou Hao paused. “Memberships? What kind of memberships?”

“Oh—you know how you said we should expand operations and learn from big chain stores? So I created our own membership card system for the supermarket.”

Zhou Hao: “…”

She asked cautiously, “You didn’t trick the eighty-year-old villagers into signing up by giving them free eggs, did you?”

Zhou Li: “Mom, I’m literally preparing for the civil service exam. You think I’d ruin my future like that?”

Zhou Hao made a sharp “tsk” but didn’t press further about where those thirty members came from.

“Are you getting the hang of managing things at the store?”

Zhou Li said, “Why don’t you check the reports? Oh—and could you also contact the suppliers? We need restocking. I’ll send you the new purchase list in a minute.”

Zhou Hao mumbled agreement and hung up.

Zhou Li sent over the list.

Not long after, her mother called back.

“Ten tons of rice? Are you sure you didn’t write the wrong unit? Tons, not bags?”

“Yup—ten tons,” Zhou Li confirmed.

Zhou Hao was silent for a moment. “…Our goal is to become a big supermarket, not pretend we already are. You don’t need to take such a big leap all at once.”

“Mom, just check the revenue,” Zhou Li said calmly.

Zhou Hao hung up again. A few minutes later, she texted on WeChat: Understood. I’ll make the arrangements.

And that was that—no more questions.

Zhou Li sighed in relief.

Good thing her mother didn’t ask why the supermarket’s revenue numbers looked so… unnatural.

But a new problem quickly arose.

Even if her mom helped with restocking, the warehouse space was limited. Ten tons of rice would fill it to bursting.

After thinking all night, Zhou Li decided to redesign the store layout.

Originally, the supermarket had a 120-square-meter retail area and a 60-square-meter warehouse built illegally from movable prefab panels.

She planned to cut the display area down to 60 square meters, turning the remaining 120 square meters—and part of the second floor—into storage.

Zhou Li called her mother to discuss it.

Zhou Hao said, “Do whatever you think is best. Oh, and I’ve sent you the supplier contacts and purchase prices. I’ve handled this batch for you, but you can’t rely on me for everything. You’ll need to start contacting them yourself next time.”

Zhou Li rubbed her temples.

Did her mom forget that this wasn’t her supermarket anymore? What a hands-off boss!

☢️☢️☢️