Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 117

He hasn’t yet decided which country to go to when he encounters a man on the road. At first glance, he thinks the man is an escaped slave—clothes in tatters, face and exposed skin filthy, walking barefoot down the path.

But it soon becomes clear that this man is no slave—nor even an ordinary commoner.

Despite his plain looks, there is nothing ordinary about him. He speaks methodically, with a clear understanding of the political situation across various states. Though still young, he is more knowledgeable than most elders.

Yet he claims never to have left the place where he was born. All his knowledge comes from conversations with merchants and scholars.

This impresses Wei Shang greatly. After some time, he asks the man: if you were to leave Wei, which country would you go to?

The man answers without hesitation: “Chen. Within ten years, Chen will be strong!”

Wei Shang frowns. “Chen is weak. Sure, it has a supermarket now, but that’s just business. If Lu or Zhao wanted to move against it, Chen wouldn’t be able to resist.”

The man laughs. “Why resist? Chen is caught between two powers. Most see this as a problem, but I see an opportunity. Precisely because it’s weak, it must rely on the strong to grow stronger. In the past, Chen gave food to both Zhao and Lu. That’s how it ended up like this. What if they only say yes to one?”

Wei Shang shakes his head. “If it sides with Zhao, Lu will be angry. Lu may not beat Zhao, but it can certainly beat Chen.”

The man says, “No, no. Think about it, sir. You’re a Zhao noble. Chen State is offering you tribute, and just at that moment, Lu State attacks. If Lu conquers Chen, do you think there will still be any of Chen’s grain left for you?”

Wei Shang is taken aback.

The man continues, “For a small country to survive, it must play both sides—borrow strength from others. It cannot rely on itself alone, not even in ten or a hundred years. But I believe the Lord of Chen is ambitious. He has wise advisers at his side. Chen may yet grow strong.”

Wei Shang asks, “So you’re saying Chen will be strong in ten years?”

The man laughs heartily. “With me, it will be strong in ten years!”

Though the words are arrogant, Wei Shang doesn’t think he is bragging.

Convinced, Wei Shang decides to stay in Chen. If Chen grows strong, then he’s made the right choice.

If not, he can always leave again in ten years.

Having already turned his back on Wei, it doesn’t really matter which country he ends up in.

After leaving Zhao Shang’s room, Wei Shang heads toward the stable. He worries he may have said something wrong earlier and wants to consult the scholar—better to correct any mistake right away.

The post station is quiet. The staff have gone to rest. Moonlight is the only source of illumination. Wei Shang steps carefully into the courtyard, afraid of tripping in the dark.

The stable is in poor shape—leaky roof, horses on one side, and servants sleeping on the other. They have no quilts, so sleeping there is barely better than the ground. And with the stench of horses, even that slight comfort is negligible.

Wei Shang is about to call the scholar when he turns around and notices a shadow on the stable’s rooftop.

His vision is poor, but instinct tells him that shadow is alive.

Squinting into the dark, he tries to make it out—perhaps a bird? But then, the shadow moves.

A pair of massive wings spread open.

Startled, Wei Shang stumbles back and falls to the ground.

He has never seen such a large bat in his life!

It has to be a monster. No normal bat grows that big.

Wei Shang trembles. The bat’s blood-red eyes seem to lock onto him. His throat tightens, as if an invisible hand is choking him—he can’t make a sound.

Then, just as suddenly, the bat flies away.

Before it leaves, it looks back at him. It almost feels like it is mocking him.

Wei Shang: “…”

“I think he’s got something,” Sarah says as she sits on the table chewing on chili peppers. “I heard him tell the people sleeping in the stable that there must be a great talent in Chen, and soon scholars from other countries who can’t make a name for themselves will flock to Chen.” Sarah is confused. “Can’t they be officials in their own countries? Why come to a small place like Chen?”

Ye Zhou explains, “Because they can’t rise in their own states. Scholars who don’t care about official rank are usually from rich and powerful families. But for lower-tier scholars, just studying already costs a lot. A small family can go bankrupt supporting one. The only way to maintain their lifestyle—or improve it—is to become officials. Plus, most scholars have ideals: strengthening a weak country, winning through strategy, becoming famous across the world. Big states don’t lack scholars. The aristocratic families produce more than enough. Compared to ordinary people, they’re more trusted too.”

Sarah asks, “Why? Don’t noble families often go against their kings?”

Ye Zhou smiles. “But their power and wealth come from the monarchy. If they leave their homeland, they lose everything—unless they abandon their surname and betray their ancestors. But if they do that, they’ll be despised and scorned across the realm. Their descendants may never be appointed again. Even though noble families often oppose the monarch—and many monarchs work to suppress them—they can’t truly separate. They’re like lips and teeth—interdependent.”

Sarah nods. “So only noble-born scholars would never betray the king?”

Ye Zhou shakes his head. “It’s because they won’t leave their homeland. If the nation declines, so do they. But,” Ye Zhou adds after taking a sip of water, “if the reward is big enough, traitors will always exist. And when nobles do betray, their betrayal carries far more weight than that of any scholar.”

Sarah understands now. “That person is called Zhao Xue. I think he’s from Lu State. But even though he’s a Lu native, he lives with his mother inside Chen territory. He originally wanted to go to the Lu capital, but ended up coming to Linzi instead.”

Ye Zhou nods. “I’ll go see him tomorrow.”

Sarah says, “You’re going personally? Why not have him come to you? He’s the one who wants a job in Chen—he should be the one to come,” Sarah says, unhappy. “You’re going to him? Who does he think he is?”

Ye Zhou is amused by her attitude. “Times are different now. Alright, go see if there’s anything you want to take. Once you’re packed, we’ll head out. Let’s get back and sleep early.”

Sarah nods. “By the way, where did Zou Ming go?”

Ye Zhou replies, “I sent him to take care of something.”

Sarah frowns. “What?”

She doesn’t finish her question—What can he do that I can’t?

Ye Zhou says, “Just a small matter.” He rubs his temples. “I’m a little tired.”

When Ye Zhou says he’s tired, Sarah stops asking. She is very understanding and says, “I don’t have anything to bring. Let’s go.”

With that, she throws on her cloak and puts on her hat.

Though she only ever goes out at night, she still makes sure to be fully covered so as not to frighten anyone.

Not that Sarah cares whether she scares people—or even if she scares them to death—but she knows Ye Zhou cares. So even though he never says anything, she always does everything she can to be considerate.

Ye Zhou stands up, shuts off the computer, and does a quick check around the supermarket for any safety hazards. Once everything is secure, he leaves the supermarket with Sarah and Cao’er.

Zou Ming climbs over a wall into a house on the east side of the city. Just as he lands, he sees a man kneeling in the corridor, clearly waiting for him.

It seems the man has known Zou Ming is coming. He nods and smiles at Zou Ming. “Thank you for your trouble, sir.”

Zou Ming doesn’t look surprised. He approaches and kneels across from the man.

Neither speaks. The man pours tea from a pot and offers Zou Ming a cup. There are also glutinous rice cakes—one for each. It’s hard to tell whether it’s thoughtful or stingy.

Zou Ming asks, “Is your brother asleep?”

The man—Bai Yu’s milk brother—nods. “The journey was tiring. He’s been sleeping early these days.”

Zou Ming says, “The boss asked me to tell you: he will prepare what you want. Will you give him what he wants in return?”

The brother-in-law hesitates briefly, then replies, “As long as I see the goods, our deal still stands. I’ll fulfill what I owe.” Then he asks, “The supermarket owner—he’s not very old, is he?”

Zou Ming looks at him.

The brother-in-law waves his hand. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not like Bai Yu.”

At the mention of Bai Yu, Zou Ming’s expression darkens.

The man adds quickly, “He doesn’t have that kind of thoughts about the boss. He just admires beauty—he’d never try to claim him. Don’t worry. He’s a Bai. If he ever misbehaves, the Bai family will discipline him themselves.”

Zou Ming says, “Next time we meet the boss, I hope you go. He shouldn’t have to.”

The man smiles bitterly. “I’m afraid that won’t work. Even though I’m his milk brother, I’m just a servant.”

Zou Ming says, “You don’t look like a servant.”

The man doesn’t respond, only smiles. “The Bai family’s in decline. The king trusted them, yet they lost three cities and accomplished nothing. They’re short on capable young men. Otherwise, why would I be out here with Bai Yu?”

Zou Ming doesn’t reply. He isn’t interested in noble family intrigues. He only says, “The boss is waiting for your good news.” Then he looks him in the eye. “Don’t let him down.”

It’s the first time the man has been looked at like that. At first, he feels flattered—but soon, he is terrified.

Those eyes don’t look human.

They look like a beast’s—like a lion or tiger.

In front of such a creature, he feels helpless. If Zou Ming wants to kill him, there would be no escape.

Lowering his head, the man whispers, “Please rest assured. I won’t go back on my word. If I do, you may take my head.”

He hears Zou Ming reply with a simple “Hmm.”

Only then does he finally feel his pounding heart begin to settle.