Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 101

Inside the tent, Zou Ming finds Ye Zhou fuming.

But Ye Zhou never vents outwardly. He doesn’t smash things or yell. His idea of anger is sitting still, lost in thought. Even angry, all he does is sit and stare with a frown.

Some people take out their frustration on others. Ye Zhou only ever torments himself.

Zou Ming pours a cup of warm water for him. “You’ve known for a while—why are you still so angry?”

Ye Zhou takes the cup, sneers softly. “I originally think, if I want to do business here, the royal family would be the best bet. With the king’s backing, making money would be easy. And Chen Hou just happens to be a king. Everything would be convenient. But turns out he gets too into his performance and takes me for a fool. If he’d played his role just right, I could’ve pretended not to see through it.” He takes a sip, suppressing the tightness in his chest. “But he gets carried away. Why not just have him play the role of a white lotus while he’s at it?”

(Translator’s Notes: In modern Chinese slang, white lotus is a derogatory term used to describe someone, usually a woman, who pretends to be pure, kind, and innocent, But is actually manipulative, hypocritical, or calculating.)

He already sees through Chen Hou during the journey.

He’s not a saint. He’s not a villain. But he’s not ordinary, either. He knows that two thousand troops aren’t enough to take Linzi. What can two thousand people do? Storm Linzi?

He has to rely on Ye Zhou—but refuses to say it outright. Instead, he keeps putting on acts to get Ye Zhou to make the first move.

He wants the benefits but doesn’t want to owe favors. Or maybe, knowing he has nothing to repay Ye Zhou with, he decides not to repay at all—and justifies it with elaborate performances.

Ye Zhou uses drones to scout the steep roads, builds ladders for the cliffs, and even deals with wild beasts—with Zou Ming and Sarah handling the danger.

To Ye Zhou, these things are trivial. Sarah leaps over city gates like it’s nothing.

But there’s a difference between a genuine plea and intentional manipulation.

He can overlook it before. But tonight’s performance with A’ru has gone too far.

Chen Hou might as well paint the words “I’m a good person who’s been wronged” across his forehead.

And if Ye Zhou had believed it—then in Chen Hou’s eyes, he’d be just another sucker. The more he thinks about it, the angrier he becomes.

“Forget it. Let’s break ties. We can switch countries.”

In the Warring States, there’s no shortage of monarchs. If this one doesn’t work out, there’ll be another. Even scholars change their loyalties—why should an alien tie himself to one tree?

Zou Ming has no objection. His voice is low, like he’s coaxing a child. “If he makes you unhappy, I’ll kill him later. How about that?”

Ye Zhou looks at him. From his eyes, he can tell Zou Ming isn’t joking.

Ye Zhou says, “I’m angry right now. Whether it’s anger or the late hour, it’s not a good time to make decisions.”

He remembers hearing: never make decisions at night. You’ll regret it by morning.

Especially decisions involving a life—or a country.

“Are all the assassins dead?” he asks.

Zou Ming nods. “Not one left.”

Ye Zhou suddenly smiles with all his strength. “Zou Ming, I feel like I don’t recognize myself anymore.”

In the past, he would never allow Wu Yan and the others to kill anyone.

But just now, he’s fully aware that if he told Wu Yan and the others to back down, to let those who tried to assassinate them go, it would be seen as weakness—an invitation to be taken advantage of.

Kindness is too precious. So precious that it needs layers of armor and sharp weapons to protect it.

Without armor and weapons, kindness is nothing but worthless trash.

Zou Ming sits down beside Ye Zhou. Ye Zhou sighs, closes his eyes, and says softly, “Let me lean on you a bit.”

Zou Ming sits still like a mountain, quietly serving as a human backrest. The muscles across his body are as hard as stone.

Ye Zhou leans against him. “Actually, now that I think about it, Marquis Chen isn’t really wrong. He doesn’t know my background, so of course he can’t trust me completely. It’s normal for him to be cautious. I can’t trust him either or tell him who I am or where I come from.”

Zou Ming lowers his head and asks softly, “Then why were you angry?”

Ye Zhou thinks for a moment, then suddenly laughs, as if remembering something. “Maybe because his acting was so bad. It’s so bad, it makes me feel like he’s treating me like an idiot.”

Zou Ming holds his breath and asks, “So what now…”

Ye Zhou still has his eyes closed. He lifts his hand to pat Zou Ming’s shoulder, but his hand lands on Zou Ming’s cheek instead. Since it’s already happened, he pretends nothing is wrong, clears his throat, and says, “Let’s see what he says tomorrow. If he gives me a satisfactory answer, we can move forward. If not…” Ye Zhou pauses, “we’ll just find someone else to make the deal. Isn’t A’ru still around? We’re already in Chen State. It doesn’t really matter who we deal with. A deal’s a deal, no matter who we make it with.”

Zou Ming gives a soft hum and whispers, “Wherever you go, I’ll go.”

Ye Zhou feels a little moved.

He’s made many friends, but never one like Zou Ming—reliable, thoughtful, and always standing by him.

He doesn’t talk much, but he’s solid as a rock.

Ye Zhou says, “I’ve invested so much in him. It’d be a pain to change partners now. We’ll see.”

When he opens his eyes, he happens to meet Zou Ming’s dark gaze and sees his own reflection in the man’s pupils.

—

The next morning, the crow of roosters breaks the silence.

Ye Zhou slowly opens his eyes.

The first thing he sees is a handsome face.

They’ve been together for so long that Ye Zhou can no longer clearly remember what Zou Ming looks like—just like he can’t judge his parents’ appearances. In his heart, his parents are the best-looking people in the world.

His gaze falls on Zou Ming’s lips. They’re very thin, but despite that, Zou Ming isn’t heartless. He has a face that looks cold and unreliable, but deep down, he’s a loyal person.

Perhaps Ye Zhou has been staring too intently, because Zou Ming opens his eyes too.

They haven’t covered themselves with blankets, sleeping head-to-head through the night.

Ye Zhou says, “Come on, let’s go wash up.”

He gets up as soon as he finishes speaking.

It’s still dark outside. Early spring air brings a lingering chill. Ye Zhou shivers as he opens the tent, but before he can finish reacting, he sees someone kneeling outside.

Chen Hou.

Only wearing a loincloth, trembling in the cold morning wind, with a bundle of thorns on his back.

Ye Zhou freezes.

Chen Hou looks up. His cheeks are flushed red from the cold. Upon seeing Ye Zhou, he raises his arms above his head and bows deeply. “Ji is ashamed! I dare not ask for forgiveness, but I beg the immortal to give Ji another chance.”

(Translator’s Notes: Jì(暨) is an archaic form of referring to oneself, often used by rulers or nobles when speaking humbly or formally, especially in classical Chinese.)

The king of a nation, kneeling in front of his tent to apologize with thorns on his back.

Ye Zhou’s anger has mostly faded overnight. Now, seeing this, it dissipates even more.

Chen Hou has knelt most of the night. The thorns have pierced his back in many places, and beads of blood ooze from the wounds, painting his skin in a horrifying sight.

The nearby soldiers who have risen early see the scene, but none dare to approach, only watching from a distance.

Ye Zhou asks, “Does Marquis Chen understand what he did wrong?”

Chen Hou smiles bitterly. “The immortal is right. I am neither a gentleman nor even a decent man. But my heart to strengthen the nation is sincere! I never intend to deceive the immortal. It’s my own cowardice. I fear the immortal will see through me and stop helping me.”

He tries so hard to play the role of a benevolent king, hoping the immortal will help and protect him. But that’s not who he is, and so the performance never rings true—it backfires on him instead.

Ye Zhou doesn’t let him get up. He asks gently, “Marquis Chen, what kind of person are you?”

Chen Hou bites his lip. He’s swaying, almost unable to hold himself upright, but still kneels firmly. “Immortal… I am my father’s fourth son.”

Though the eldest, that doesn’t guarantee succession.

His father is a weak man—soft with ministers, sentimental with concubines.

If not for the rule that only sons born of official wives can be called princes, who knows how many “princes” there would be in the State of Chen.

From a young age, Chen Hou knows his position as crown prince is shaky. His brothers all eye it hungrily, and his mother is a weak-willed woman with no opinions. He lives surrounded by plots and suspicion. Even before his father dies, he has to struggle to keep his place as heir.

So he marries a wife from a powerful family, makes alliances with other royal brothers, and even recruits slaves like A’ru.

Precisely because A’ru is a slave, he trusts him more.

But before he can learn how to be a gentleman, he becomes king.

One moment he’s neck-deep in schemes, the next he has to be a wise and virtuous ruler.

Chen Hou looks up at Ye Zhou, his mouth half open in a pained, awkward smile. “Immortal, I still haven’t learned how to be a gentleman.”

Ye Zhou looks at him for a while. Just as Chen Hou is about to bow again, Ye Zhou finally says, “Take off the thorns, Chen Hou. Come inside and talk.” He turns and walks back into the tent. “Zou Ming, pour two cups of warm water.”

Zou Ming nods slightly and passes by Chen Hou, who stumbles inside.

As the two pass, Chen Hou can’t help but shiver.

Ye Zhou sits cross-legged while Chen Hou kneels.

Facing each other, Ye Zhou speaks first. “Marquis Chen wants to return to Linzi and reclaim the title of marquis. You want me to help you. But haven’t I helped you already? Why keep pretending to be innocent again and again?”

The words “again and again” carry particular weight.

Chen Hou gives a bitter smile. “Immortal, it’s not that I can’t—it’s that I don’t dare. Someone like me isn’t worthy to be a monarch. A ruler should care for the people and be noble and upright. I fear you’ll see I’m not a gentleman and stop helping me.”

Ye Zhou says softly, “No wonder.”

No wonder Chen Hou looks at him like that when he says a gentleman might not make a good monarch.

Chen Hou continues, “The immortal saved my life. I should treat you like a king, like a father. But I’m short-sighted and cowardly, and end up deceiving you. I accept any punishment. I only ask that the immortal let me return to Linzi. Once I clean up the court, you can kill me then.”

Ye Zhou studies him closely.

He’s not lying. He comes prepared to die.

So Ye Zhou’s last bit of anger fades.

He smiles. “Marquis Chen, don’t do anything foolish. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have saved you in the first place. No one is perfect. Even saints have flaws. I just hope you can be honest with me from now on. And if you can’t be honest, then it’s better to stay silent than to lie.”

Marquis Chen realizes he’s passed this trial. He bows low again. “I won’t ever do this again. If I do, the immortal may take my life—I won’t object.”

Ye Zhou nods. “Go clean up. Have someone treat your wounds.” He adds gently, “After this, I think Marquis Chen finally looks like a real king.”

Chen Hou looks at him, stunned.

Ye Zhou continues, “The Warring States period isn’t peaceful. A ruler should be like a wolf. If you insist on acting like a gentleman, others will eat you alive. And once you wear the mask of a gentleman too long, it’s hard to take it off.”

Chen Hou says sincerely, “I will learn.”

Ye Zhou personally walks him out. He watches as Chen Yan helps Chen Hou into a robe, then turns back into the tent.

After this, everyone—Chen Hou included—will know he can’t be pushed around.

It’s been an accident, but a good one.

He’s finally established his authority.

Ye Zhou sighs.

Doing business in chaotic times really isn’t easy.

Not only does he have to pretend to be divine, but also show off strength and build prestige.

With that in mind, switching to another country really does seem like a loss.

He can only see how much he’ll earn in the end.