Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 129

The town that the locals find strange isn’t very large. From a high vantage point, you can see a single main street with seven branches extending outward. At its center stands a vaulted castle. Compared to the stone houses of lords on the Minzil continent, this castle can only be described as magnificent and refined.

The surrounding walls are very low—probably because there hasn’t been war in a long time. They have lost their original purpose, and no one stops residents from coming and going freely.

But after watching all morning, Ye Zhou only sees the local townspeople moving in and out.

“It really is a bit off,” Cao’er says as she eats lunch. “If we had a town like this back home, people from ten miles around would be swarming in. Even if it wasn’t market day, they’d still come for things like grain or cloth.” She takes a bite of sandwich, sips some milk, swallows, then adds, “There’s definitely something strange.”

After that, she reaches for another sandwich.

In truth, she doesn’t even like sandwiches that much—at least not compared to roujiamo.

Roujiamo is packed with minced meat—mostly lean, but not dry thanks to the sesame oil drizzled over it. Add in a bit of fresh veg, and the flavor lingers in your mouth. Cao’er can eat five of them in one sitting.

Still, sandwiches make more sense for travel. They don’t taste all that different even when cold. Cold roujiamo just isn’t the same.

Seeing Cao’er eat so happily lifts Ye Zhou’s appetite a bit. He only manages one sandwich, though, before putting it down.

“Lord Immortal, let me be the one to check it out first,” Cao’er says. She has volunteered to come along and feels it’s time to actually do something useful.

Ye Zhou doesn’t stop her—this is exactly why he brings her along.

Just like she says, she’s small and a young girl. No one would be on guard around someone like her. Sending Zou Ming in would get a very different response.

Still, Ye Zhou reminds her, “Remember what you said before. Zou Ming and I will always be watching, but the only one who can really protect you is yourself. Be careful.”

Cao’er nods. She is armed: a pistol, an extended magazine, plenty of bullets. A dagger is strapped to her calf. She might not be able to beat someone like Wu Yan in a fight, but she can easily handle someone with no training.

Before Ye Zhou learned how to fight, he also thought that in the face of overwhelming strength, all technique was just for show. It wasn’t until he started training that he realized: most of the time, there’s no such thing as overwhelming strength between people.

“Overwhelming” isn’t about gender—it’s about body weight.

A 200-pound woman can easily overpower a 100-pound man. But an 80- or 90-pound woman probably can’t beat a man weighing over 100 pounds. A 120- to 130-pound woman, however, if well trained, can definitely overpower an untrained man under 150.

Cao’er is around 120 pounds now. Years of training mean her body fat is much lower than average.

In a real fight, she can aim straight for the temple or chin—one clean hit and she’ll have enough time to escape.

But that’s assuming a one-on-one situation. In a chaotic group fight, even Zou Ming can’t hold out for long.

That’s why she carries a gun—to intimidate, not to fight. She needs just enough of an edge to break away.

Because once she has to reload, she’s done for.

So when Cao’er is about to leave, Ye Zhou can’t help but remind her again, “Don’t think a gun makes you invincible. What if they don’t confront you? What if they sneak up while you’re sleeping? A gun won’t help then.”

Cao’er quickly replies, “I won’t eat their food, drink their water, or spend the night in the city.”

Ye Zhou is still uneasy. Just as he’s about to go in with her, Zou Ming places a hand on his shoulder.

“Let her go,” Zou Ming says quietly. “She’s a refugee, not a child.”

Ye Zhou takes a deep breath, then finally nods. “Go.”

Cao’er acknowledges him and walks toward the town with two silver coins in hand.

“You said you wanted to train them,” Zou Ming says, handing Ye Zhou a bottle of water.

Ye Zhou understands the unspoken meaning.

He wants to train his team, but when it comes time to let them face danger, he can’t stop worrying.

“I know. I understand the logic,” Ye Zhou says bitterly, “but…”

But after spending so much time together, building real bonds, how can he not worry when someone walks into danger for the supermarket’s sake?

“You feel responsible,” Zou Ming says suddenly. “Because they’re working for the supermarket, and you’re the boss, you feel it’s your duty to protect them.”

Ye Zhou nods. “If they were risking themselves for their own reasons, I might care, but not this much.”

Zou Ming looks at Ye Zhou’s side profile.

Ye Zhou has always been like this—extremely protective of his own. You wouldn’t notice it in daily life, but the moment something happens, it becomes clear.

He’d rather take risks himself than let anyone else get hurt.

“But like you said, if you never give them a chance, how will they grow?” Zou Ming asks. “Are you planning to look after them forever?”

“I know, I know,” Ye Zhou says, cutting off the conversation. “I get it.”

Zou Ming doesn’t say more.

He loves that side of Ye Zhou’s personality. If Ye Zhou weren’t that kind of person, he wouldn’t have saved him, raised him, or taught him everything.

But he also hates it—because there are always people like him around Ye Zhou who need to be saved.

He lowers his head, dark eyes unreadable, as if a storm is quietly brewing inside.

For Cao’er, this is her first time acting on her own. She feels nervous—but more than that, excited.

She knows she isn’t as smart or capable as Chen Shu or the others. Anything she can do, they can probably do better.

Her mother always tells her: their good life is a gift from the Lord Immortal. But just because someone is willing to give doesn’t mean they should shamelessly keep taking. If you want to be respected, you have to have ability. Like Sister Chen or Sister Sarah—they don’t need to know how to clean or cook. As long as they can do something others can’t, they can live the way they want.

Cao’er doesn’t understand at first, but after hearing it enough, she starts to get it.

She has no intention of going back to the Daliang Dynasty. What would she do there? Marry some guy, cook, keep a fire going, pop out a few sons, then find wives for them? That would be her whole life.

When she’s young, she listens to men. When she gets old, she listens to her sons.

Just thinking about it makes her scalp tingle.

Her mother tells her to make progress, and the Lord Immortal gives her that chance.

Before, she never had the opportunity. What progress can a village girl even make? Washing more clothes? Farming a bit more land?

Even wealthy girls who learn music and painting are only preparing to marry well someday.

Cao’er reaches the city gate and checks the translator pinned to her chest. This time, she wears two—one like a brooch, one as an earring. There’s a backup in her bag, too.

Just as she looks up at the city wall, someone approaches her.

It’s an old woman in a long skirt. Unlike the nearby farmers, there isn’t a speck of dirt on her. Her hair is neatly combed and has something slick applied—though it smells a little, it makes her hair dark and shiny. She looks refined.

Her face is round with fine wrinkles, not mean-looking, but kind—almost grandmotherly.

Cao’er sees something of her own mother in the woman.

No—her mother isn’t this gentle. Her mother is fierce.

“Miss,” the old woman says with a smile, “are you here to find relatives, or just passing through our town?”

Cao’er quickly pulls out her prepared response. She shrinks her shoulders slightly, pretends to be timid, and replies carefully, “I’m here to try and find a job.”

The old woman examines her. Though the girl is short and her skin rough, she doesn’t look like she comes from a poor family. Her cheeks are full, and her frame sturdy—her clothes fit well.

“Where are your parents? Are they really letting you find a job on your own?” the old woman asks, stepping closer. She grabs Cao’er’s wrist warmly and says, “Come in first—it’s nearly time to eat. Come have a meal at my house.”

Cao’er politely declines. “No, I—I’ll find a hotel…”

“Nonsense,” the old woman says, “You don’t know the town or where to look for work. I like you. Come with me, and I’ll help you find a job later.”

Cao’er lowers her voice. “Then… who’s in your family? I’m unmarried—I can’t stay with men.”

The old woman’s smile widens.

Nowadays, women work in many larger towns. The money still goes to their husbands, but no one says women can’t eat with men. Only isolated little villages have rules like that.

Girls from such places often have no relatives in town. Even if their parents or brothers come to look for them, no one cares.

In fact, if her parents or brothers show up—that’s even better.

The old woman takes Cao’er into the town. She grabs Cao’er’s wrist and claims she needs someone to help her walk steadily because of her age. But in truth, if Cao’er makes even a slight move, the woman can easily drag her back to her side.

Once inside the town, Cao’er notices even more things that feel off.

Though she’s an outsider and naturally attracts a few curious glances, people normally wouldn’t be this welcoming.

As they walk along the road, people greet them warmly. Many even invite Cao’er to their homes.

Cao’er has never felt like such a “hot commodity” in her life.

But there’s a saying she knows well: people who are nice for no reason are either schemers or thieves.

If she has nothing to offer them, even the kind-hearted wouldn’t go to such lengths to help her.

She glances quietly at the old woman still dragging her forward.

This old woman doesn’t seem to have suffered much, at least not recently. Her face carries a smile, and there’s a gleam in her eyes.

Cao’er recognizes that look all too well.

After all, what kind of people hasn’t she met while fleeing disaster?

To survive, people will resort to any despicable means.

Selling oneself into slavery is already considered honorable. As long as someone is willing to buy you—even to send you somewhere degrading—at least you get to eat.

Better a miserable life than a good death. Everyone wants to live.

There are worse ways still—cannibalizing children is common. People will kill each other over a single wild vegetable.

Cao’er has seen hell on earth—faces that appear kind but are more vicious than demons. But at least those people have one motive: survival.

What about this old woman?

What does she want?

After all, she’s just a poor girl from elsewhere. What could the old woman possibly want from her? What could a poor girl from another region possibly offer?

Cao’er stays alert, but she keeps her expression neutral.

All along the way, the old woman keeps praising the town.

“We don’t have beggars here,” she says with a smile. “No one urinates or defecates on the streets. As long as you come in, you can find good work. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

She also points at the friendly passersby who greet them along the way: “The people here are kind, warm-hearted, and always ready to help others.”

But the more Cao’er looks at those smiling faces, the more her scalp tingles.

If only one person smiles like that, it wouldn’t be strange. But everyone wears the same smile—as if they are carved from the same mold. That uniform expression makes her feel deeply uneasy.

Before long, they arrive at the old woman’s home.

The old woman is clearly wealthy. While most people live in bungalows, she lives in a two-story house with a small fenced yard. Flowers and vegetables grow in neat rows.

Cao’er follows her inside—and her unease intensifies.

She’s not the only one the old woman has brought here.

The living room is nearly full. These people are clearly not locals: their clothes are torn, their hair greasy, and their eyes filled with panic.

There are men, women, and even children—all from different races.

That’s when Cao’er realizes something: the old woman might not be human. She’s only about 1.4 meters tall.

In the Daliang Dynasty, poor nutrition has made short stature common, so Cao’er hasn’t thought much of it. But now, she suspects—the old woman must be a dwarf.

And sure enough, most of the people in the house are dwarves.

The dwarves become excited when the old woman returns. The children run over, asking for food.

She smiles and tells them, “Sit down. I’ll prepare something to eat.” Then she says to Cao’er, “They’re just like you—came to town looking for work. Go ahead and sit with them.”

Cao’er nods and takes a seat nearby. A dwarf child walks past her to drink from a kettle. She glances around and notices all the others staring toward the kitchen hungrily.

She leans toward the child and whispers, “Are you related to that old woman?”

As she speaks, Cao’er pulls a candy from her pocket.

Though the dwarf boy doesn’t know what it is, the shiny wrapper catches his eye.

He mimics her and whispers back, “No. My parents said we came here to find work. When we entered the city, she told us we could stay in her house until we found a job.” The boy seems cheerful. “My parents say she’s a good person!”

Cao’er nods slightly, then unwraps the candy herself and pops it into his mouth.

As soon as she does, she says, “I don’t have many of those. If you tell anyone, you won’t get another.”

The little dwarf immediately covers his mouth and shakes his head, signaling he won’t say a word.

Though she’s only been here a short while, Cao’er already has a rough idea of what’s going on.

These people are all poor. The only thing anyone might covet… is their bodies.

This old woman… must be a human trafficker.

Cao’er presses her lips together. She must find a way to report this to the Lord Immortal.

Ye Zhou holds a telescope, watching as Cao’er and the old woman enter a two-story house. But Cao’er doesn’t come out.

“People in this town are really friendly,” Ye Zhou is saying to Zou Ming, when suddenly, a figure appears in his view as he pans the binoculars.

Zou Ming notices his expression darken. “What is it?”

Ye Zhou lowers the telescope, staring blankly toward an alley behind the castle.

There, someone in rags, hair matted, crawls slowly along the ground.

Why does that person look so much like… Sarah?