Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 100

When Zhang Rong wakes up, he feels like he’s just come out of a long and terrifying nightmare. He looks up at the familiar wooden beams, breathes a sigh of relief, and shouts, “Someone come! Bring me water!”

Footsteps approach outside. Zhang Rong reaches up and touches his head.

He remembers the witch in his dream tearing off his scalp. Though he knows it was just a dream, he still wants to confirm it.

But when his hand reaches his head, he doesn’t feel hair—only thick bandages.

His fingers keep tracing his head. Slowly, he turns his head.

The door creaks open. A familiar, frightened face appears.

“You’re awake?” Chen Yan walks in and sneers. “What? Don’t recognize me? If not me, do you still recognize the Lord?”

Zhang Rong realizes—it hasn’t been a dream at all.

Chen Yan walks to the bedside, looks down at Zhang Rong’s honest face, and can’t understand how he’s ended up this way.

Zhang Rong knows he can’t escape responsibility, so he says bitterly, “You and the Lord are brothers from the same clan. Of course you wouldn’t understand my situation. If it were you, would you be willing to stay here your whole life? My wife and child are in the capital—I only get to see them once a year, at the end.”

Chen Yan’s heart aches. “Guarding the border is an important duty! The Lord trusts you, which is why he doesn’t replace you!”

Zhang Rong shouts, “I don’t want that kind of trust! I’m a descendant of the Zhang family! If I weren’t stationed here, I’d be living like a proper nobleman’s son!”

Chen Yan stares at him in disbelief. “A nobleman’s life? And what kind of life is that? Scribbling nonsense all day? You write a few articles and think you’re a great talent, but do you even know how the common people survive? Is that how you want to live?”

Zhang Rong sneers. “Yes, you look down on noble families and the royal clans! Junhou, since you don’t understand my suffering, don’t come lecturing me! Things have gone this far—what now? You going to kill me? How will you explain that to the Zhang family?”

“You’re just relying on the fact that the Zhang clan is one of the Three Great Families.” Chen Yan finally understands. He laughs bitterly. “Yes, His Majesty can’t afford to offend the Three Great Families—he can’t afford to offend your Zhangs!”

Zhang Rong fears that female demon, knowing she isn’t someone bound by worldly rules—she would kill him without a second thought. But he does not fear Marquis Chen.

Chen Hou is a man of sentiment—even if he weren’t, he still wouldn’t kill him.

Zhang Rong has noble blood. At most, Chen Hou will put on a show and remove him from his post.

After all, the Zhang clan controls thirty-six cities in the State of Chen, and their governors are all members of the Zhang family. There is no way Chen Hou dares to kill him.

Chen Yan gives Zhang Rong a deep look, then turns and leaves, flicking his sleeves as he goes.

Marquis Chen waits outside. When Chen Yan exits the room, Marquis Chen looks at him with a complicated expression.

They exchange a glance. Chen Yan can see the disappointment in the king’s eyes.

The two of them walk off to the side. Chen Yan finally says, “Your Majesty, we can’t wait any longer. We have to carry out the reforms the immortals spoke of! If we let things go on like this, the aristocratic families will devour everything!”

Chen Hou sighs and speaks softly, “You think I don’t know? When my father was alive, he told me: the noble families are my limbs and eyes—I can’t do without them. Without them, who would govern? Who would help me run the country? Common traders and street rabble? But my father also said—if they are limbs, they must not presume to be the brain.”

But the reality is, the king sees and does everything through these hands and eyes—how can they not become the brain?

Chen Yan snaps, “It’s outrageous! These people are shameless! They should all be executed!”

Chen Hou sighs. “Brother Yan, right now only you and I are of one mind.”

Chen Yan bows solemnly. “I swear to serve the Marquis with all my heart, even unto death!”

“What should we do about Zhang Rong?” Marquis Chen asks.

Chen Yan hates Zhang Rong, but he can’t deny that the man has a point. Chen Hou can’t kill him—unless he wants to break with the noble families. But once he does that, he will no longer be the ruler of Linzi. He wouldn’t even compare to a city governor.

A flicker of killing intent finally passes through Chen Hou’s eyes. “He’s so sure I won’t kill him… then I must kill him. Just not yet. The immortal is right—whoever has the biggest fist is right. I must implement the military merit ranking system!” He grasps Chen Yan’s hand tightly. “Brother Yan! With you by my side, this reform can be carried out.”

He truly trusts no one else but Chen Yan.

“I entrust it to you alone,” Chen Hou says with emotion.

Chen Yan’s eyes redden. “I will serve the king with all my heart and never regret it, even if I die.”

Ye Zhou, who has sharp hearing, thinks to himself, “…”

Why does that sound a bit melodramatic? Is this how kings and ministers talk to each other in this era?

That night, a large group of people gathers to eat. Cao’er Niang brings out pots, pans, and seasonings and sets up a stew pot in the courtyard. Since there are too many people, she doesn’t bother with stir-frying—just stews everything together.

“Is that an iron pot?” Though the soldiers can’t eat Cao’er Niang’s stew, their curiosity gets the better of them.

“How much iron would it take to make a pot that size?”

“Won’t it warp from the heat?”

They are still using bronze weapons. Bronze casting is more advanced than ironworking. The iron-smelting process can’t yet produce reliable weapons. Not to mention the challenge of quenching—few smiths can forge iron swords that don’t bend. Those who can are rare, and their swords are expensive—only nobles and kings can afford them.

As Cao’er Niang adds meat and spices, she snaps at the soldiers gathering around. “Move! Don’t crowd here! Go eat your own dinner!”

The soldiers have meat, too—smoked and preserved—but they still salivate at the sight of freshly stewed food.

They have enough discipline not to beg for food, but they can’t help swallowing their drool.

It’s their first time watching Cao’er Niang cook. She adds unfamiliar spices one by one, and the delicious aroma draws everyone’s eyes to her.

“What are you staring at!” the company leader barks at his men. “You’ve got meat—what more do you want? Look at the soldiers outside—how many even get meat? And now you’re all built up and still drooling over a bite of stew?” Even as he scolds them, the company leader can’t help swallowing hard.

The soldiers don’t dare argue. They stop openly staring and just close their eyes and breathe in the scent.

It’s all meat, sure—but theirs is just salty boiled smoked meat. What Cao’er Niang is cooking is much more than just salty.

This kind of food—only a king is worthy of it.

After scolding them, the company leader can’t help but sneak another glance in her direction.

So tempting.

Ye Zhou sits in a folding chair. They’ve brought folding tables too. The employees gather around several of them, while Ye Zhou and Chen Hou sit at their own—though the dishes are the same: stew and rice.

“Immortal, I plan to bring Zhang Rong back to the royal city,” Chen Hou says after two bites. He has no appetite and puts his chopsticks down. “I don’t feel safe leaving him here, but I haven’t found anyone suitable to take his place guarding the gate.”

Ye Zhou asks, “Don’t you have a deputy general?”

Chen Hou nods. “I do. But if the commander is like that, the deputy is probably no better…”

Ye Zhou says, “Promote him for now, stabilize the situation. From what I’ve seen, few people in your army are willing to serve under others. Leave a few trusted men to keep an eye on things—it should be fine. In emergencies, you have to act. Overthinking only makes you miss your moment.”

Chen Hou considers this. “You’re right… I was just afraid of the consequences.”

Ye Zhou adds, “Chen Hou, eat something too. If I’m not mistaken, there’ll be a tough fight tonight.”

Chen Hou is surprised. “But we just arrived…”

Ye Zhou calmly replies, “If you leave your trusted aides behind, do you think the people who want to harm you wouldn’t do the same?”

And just like that—his words come true.

Late that night, Ye Zhou can’t sleep soundly in the tent. For safety, he and Zou Ming share a tent for the first time in a while. Lying side by side, they snap awake at the first sound outside.

Ye Zhou grabs Zou Ming’s shoulder, closes his eyes to listen, then leans in and whispers in his ear, “More than thirty people.”

Zou Ming nods. His hearing isn’t as sharp, so he can’t pinpoint the number like Ye Zhou can.

As he moves to stand, Ye Zhou’s hand slides from his shoulder to grasp his hand.

Zou Ming freezes as if struck by lightning, his fingers trembling slightly.

Ye Zhou whispers again, “I already warned Sarah earlier. This time, you, Sarah, and Chen Shu can’t go. Wu Yan and the others are ready. You can’t protect everyone every time something happens. They need to learn to defend themselves.” He takes out the walkie-talkie.

Zou Ming stares into Ye Zhou’s eyes. “What about you?”

Ye Zhou picks up the rifle from under his pillow and smiles. “I need the exercise too.”

Zou Ming frowns. “No, I’m going with you.”

Ye Zhou calls his name softly. “Zou Ming. I can’t always hide behind you or Chen Shu. And I can’t live without you two.” Ye Zhou is rarely this serious. He meets Zou Ming’s gaze head-on, voice firm. “One day, I’ll have to face danger alone. When that time comes, no one will be there to protect me—except myself.”