Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 120

The soldier is nervous—it is his first time meeting someone of such high status.

A merchant, technically, shouldn’t count as a high-ranking figure—but someone who can go head-to-head with the noble families and still gain the upper hand? That is a major figure.

The soldier swallows hard and almost trips over his own heels as he walks in.

Inside the hall, he doesn’t dare raise his eyes to look at the man in the main seat. The aroma of tea fills his nose, and he tells himself to calm down over and over again.

But when the man finally speaks, the soldier drops to his knees before he can even react.

Trembling, he stammers, “Please forgive me, sir. This night attack is the most shameless and despicable move by the Yang family. It has nothing to do with us. We are only following orders.” He prostrates himself on the floor and cries out, “Please spare our lives, sir. I’m willing to hold your horse and stirrup.”

He doesn’t dare move. After who knows how long, he finally hears a chuckle from above.

The sound sends chills down his spine. His scalp tingles, and every hair on his body stands on end.

He sees that his master still appears calm, but he himself is a mess, unable to make sense of anything in his mind.

The man’s voice is gentle, as if he weren’t facing an enemy who has just attacked his home, but simply a stranger: “Since it is a night attack, why don’t you follow the order and charge in?”

The fear in the soldier’s heart slowly fades. Strangely, he feels this man won’t kill him—or harm him at all.

But his voice still trembles as he replies in a low voice, “What the Yang family does is treasonous. Mobilizing troops without the sovereign’s command is punishable by death. Though I’m no scholar, I know enough to understand right from wrong. I would never dare follow such a lawless order from the Yangs.” He pauses and gives a bitter smile. “Besides… the Yang family can’t afford to support real soldiers. They want to raise troops but are afraid of being exposed. They don’t want to spend too much money or grain. Except for me, the others have already been captured by your people. The ones I bring are just household servants of the Yang family. They’ve never touched a weapon. Let alone killing anyone—they don’t even know how to swing a knife.”

The man responds with a soft “Mm.”

The tone is flat, devoid of emotion.

The soldier tenses again, realizing that this man still holds his fate in his hands.

He trembles and pleads once more: “Please forgive us, sir.”

After a long silence, the man above finally says, “In that case, stay for now.”

The soldier exhales in relief—only to find himself drenched in cold sweat, his clothes soaked through.

A gust of evening wind drifts in, making him shiver.

“Take him to the room where the head of the Yang family is being held,” the man orders. “He can explain the current situation of the Yang family.”

The soldier doesn’t want to go but dares not refuse.

Technically, the head of the Yang family is his former employer. He is a traitor. What can he say in front of the man? Speak honestly?

But he can’t object. So he can only follow the person leading him to the backyard.

The woman leading the way wears strange clothes. She isn’t tall, and a deep scar runs across her face. Even though it has healed, it still looks gruesome, as though someone has tried to destroy her looks on purpose.

But the soldier has seen women with worse scars. He isn’t particularly frightened.

They pass through a winding path and a stone-paved walkway before finally arriving at a small courtyard.

The woman turns and says, “The head of the Yang family has a bad temper. He’s been hungry for a day and should be too weak to hit you. Just speak with him and calm him down.” She says it with a warm smile.

The soldier takes one glance and quickly lowers his head. “Understood,” he mumbles.

She points to a room. “He’s inside. Go on in.”

The soldier looks at her in disbelief, surprised that the door isn’t locked and he can walk in directly.

She notices his doubt and smiles again, as if reading his mind. “He can’t get out.”

The soldier is awed. He nods repeatedly, walks up the steps hesitantly, places his hand on the door, but doesn’t push it open.

Only after some time does he gather the courage to open it.

The room is pitch-black—so dark that it seems to swallow all light.

The smell of blood, vomit, and sweat hits him. The foul mix makes him curse his sensitive nose.

He fumbles around, finds the oil lamp, takes out a smoldering ember from his sleeve, and lights the wick.

The tiny bean-sized flame gives off a faint glow.

In the flickering light, he finally sees the figure curled up in the corner.

He can’t believe that the disheveled man with matted hair, who looks like a beggar, is the same head of the Yang family he used to look up to but never dared meet eyes with.

The arrogant man who once gave orders and decided others’ fates now crouches in a dark corner like a scared rat.

For a moment, the soldier doesn’t know whether to pity him or feel satisfied.

But oddly, a faint and cruel sense of glee rises in his heart.

His life has once been at this man’s mercy. He has believed the Yang master omnipotent.

Now, seeing him like this, he realizes the man is no different from himself.

Holding the small lamp, the soldier steps toward him.

After drinking a strong cup of tea, Ye Zhou has initially felt drowsy, but now he can’t sleep at all. Since he couldn’t fall asleep, he decides to deal with tomorrow’s task tonight.

“Prepare the carriage. Let’s go to the Chen Palace.” He puts on his coat and tells Zou Ming, “Call Zhou Yuanhe. I want him to check what’s really wrong with Marquis Chen.”

The moment Chen Hou falls ill, all kinds of shady figures start appearing. Ye Zhou can’t help but suspect a conspiracy.

As soon as Chen Hou gets sick, the Yang family makes their move.

Are they acting on their own, or is someone else behind it?

How can a family with no official position act so brazenly in Linzi? Can they really be acting alone?

Ye Zhou doesn’t believe it is coincidence. He believes it is a setup.

If it is, then Chen Hou’s illness probably isn’t a real illness.

The three of them ride into the palace. The outer gate is still unguarded, and only the inner palace has a few guards changing shifts.

Palace guards are allowed to carry swords—here, it isn’t a privilege granted by rank.

Just as they are about to stop the carriage, a hand emerges from behind the curtain, holding a token.

The guards exchange glances and ultimately let them through.

Inside, Ye Zhou navigates the palace from memory, heading straight for Chen Hou’s chambers.

The carriage driver is Zheng Shaoyu, the young general “gifted” to Ye Zhou by Chen Hou. Recently, he has been living and eating with Wu Yan and the others, teaching them how to drive a carriage. He has quickly become one of them.

Even though he still remembers his loyalty to Marquis Chen, he doesn’t feel out of place among the Wu Yan’s group.

After all, Chen Hou never tells him to monitor them.

So he follows his heart, interacts with them, and quickly becomes part of the group.

“Lord Immortal, you go ahead. I’ll stay here,” the young general says. He too suspects a conspiracy and prefers to guard from outside.

Ye Zhou doesn’t stop him. He nods and enters the palace first.

The palace servants recognize Ye Zhou and don’t dare block his way.

A eunuch hurries over and says cautiously, “His Lordship has had a fever these days and can’t get out of bed. Her Ladyship visits daily, but the fever won’t break.”

Ye Zhou frowns. “Why am I not told?”

The eunuch replies quickly, “His Lordship gave the order. He said it would trouble you too much.”

Ye Zhou says nothing more and walks straight to the bedside.

Sure enough, Chen Hou lies there, face flushed red. Even in his sleep, his brow is furrowed. His hands, exposed outside the covers, are clenched tightly—as if warding off some danger in his dreams.

Just as Ye Zhou reaches the bed, Zhou Yuanhe arrives carrying a medical kit.

He takes out a thermometer to measure Chen Hou’s temperature, then draws some blood for testing.

As he works, Ye Zhou asks the eunuch, “Has anyone been here recently? Any unusual activity in the palace?”

This servant is Chen Hou’s trusted aide—he’s grown up alongside him. Chen Hou has told Ye Zhou specifically that of all the people in the palace, he only truly trusts this servant and his wife.

The eunuch lowers his head and answers, “The heads of the Zhang and Zheng families came. They don’t seem suspicious.” He hesitated, then adds, “But surprisingly few court ministers have visited.”

Ye Zhou understands the implication immediately.

Suddenly, Ye Zhou thinks of something.

“Perfect. Saves me the trouble of visiting them one by one.”

He looks at Lord Chen.

The man still has a bit of luck left.