Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 24

The sky gradually brightens. As the sun rises, it seems to signal that those who are bathed in its light are granted just one more day to live. But it is only one more day.

Yang Zhi leans against the tree trunk. While the food that Chen Liu brought is enough to last for a while, there isn’t enough water. In this heat, even half an hour without water leaves them feeling parched.

Though it seems bearable, the thirst intensifies once they have water, making it harder to endure.

Yang Zhi looks south. He has already given up. After so many days, Chen Liu still hasn’t returned. Though no one speaks about it, they all accept their fate. Death is near, but they lack the strength to even leave a last word. Even Yang Zhi, who has the best physique, no longer has any energy. From morning till night, they can only manage to say a sentence at most. Their waking hours are growing shorter and shorter. Had it not been for the wild animals nearby being hunted down, they would already be rotten corpses on the roadside.

Yang Zhi’s eyes slowly lose focus. It feels as though his life force is draining away, and it becomes more real with every passing moment.

Just then—

The sound of galloping hooves breaks the silence, followed by the sound of neighing not far away, like music to the ears. No tune in The Immortal palace can compare to this.

Yang Zhi sits up suddenly. His head spins from the effort, and he has to sit there for a while before using the tree for support to stand.

The sound has also stirred Li Qing, who is lying on the ground, forcing himself to rise.

Everyone looks toward the source of the sound.

What they see next is something they will never forget in their lives—

On the dusty road, a red horse leaps into view. It is bathed in sunlight, its fur shimmering with a golden hue, like a divine horse from a story. It is majestic, its muscles rippling, as if it could soar over mountains and ridges with one bound.

The dark brown tail of the horse fans out in the air, like a whisk held by an immortal.

It is so beautiful that no one can look away.

Yang Zhi, who has seen fine horses before, can’t help but murmur, “Divine horse… divine horse!”

It’s as if he’s gazing at a beloved maiden—too awed to speak loudly, daring only to stare at it with longing in his eyes.

“Slow down! Slow down!” Before the horse reaches them, Yang Zhi and the others spot Wu Yan’s group gasping for breath as they trail behind the horse’s rear.

None of them knows how to ride, with Wu Yan being able to ride only a donkey, and Cao’er able to ride a cow, but not daring to mount a horse. In this era, horses are luxury items. Apart from unruly bandits who steal horses, most officials have to travel in ox carts. Only the nobility has access to horses, and a fine horse can be worth a fortune.

At first, they are able to lead the horses along on foot, but once the road becomes flat, all the horses—except the two pulling the cart—begin to frolic. Even so, they still “look after” the humans, stopping to wait after running ahead.

Chen Liu walks at the rear of the group, unwilling to engage with Yang Zhi’s group again.

Yang Zhi, still in disbelief, stares at the horses in the middle of the road, swallowing nervously.

He has given up hope of getting a horse. At this point, only immortals could have horses. He hopes they might give him just one horse—one would be enough. The one with the best riding skills could take the supplies.

But the horse before him is clearly a peerless beauty. Just from its legs and stance, it is evident it is worth a fortune. If it were sold, it could fetch a whole city.

And there are six of them!

The last two are even pulling a cart!

Yang Zhi no longer cares about the strange wheels under the cart. His eyes are completely fixed on the horses.

Wu Yan leads his group toward Yang Zhi and his men.

Except for Yang Zhi, everyone else instinctively takes a step back. Wu Yan’s group may not be tall, but compared to them, they are visibly sturdier. Not to mention they’re even traveling with two women—no, two young girls—clearly showing they have enough resources and confidence.

“Hero Yang,” Wu Yan clasps his fists toward Yang Zhi.

He has no idea what to call the man, not knowing his age, but “hero” is a safe bet.

“There are six horses, along with dry food and water,” Wu Yan continues. “You can count them. If everything is in order, we’ll head back and report.”

Wu Yan hands a bag to Yang Zhi. “The immortal said not to take anything in return for these. Please take a look.”

Yang Zhi reaches out to take the bag, but the moment he grasps it, his unsteady body causes him to fall to the ground with the bag.

Wu Yan and his men are alarmed, but the others around Yang Zhi understand. They can see that he is so weak that he can’t even carry the weight of the bag.

Yang Zhi slowly gets to his feet, weakly unwrapping the bundle.

Golden jewelry greets his eyes. Yang Zhi’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he collapses once more, the shock overwhelming him.

Among the gold pieces, there are only a few items that can be traced to wealthy families. The rest are ill-gotten gains from corrupt officials.

These items were taken in error by the brothers from Mount Huang. Though no lives were lost, for the Mount Huang group, this is a stain they can never wash away. This incident cements their reputation as bandits. Most of the ordinary brothers don’t care, but for someone like Yang Zhi, who never intended to be a bandit, it weighs heavily on his conscience and leaves him sleepless.

There’s so much gold, but he can identify the source of several pieces at a glance.

Wu Yan, noticing the look on Yang Zhi’s face, sighs. “The Lord Immortal knows everything.”

At this moment, Yang Zhi finally asks with a trace of doubt, “Why did The Lord Immortal… save us?”

He thinks they no longer deserve saving. They have stolen from good people, and that makes them undeserving of help.

Moreover, with so many brothers in the mountain, he can’t claim they are all good men. He dares not say that they haven’t robbed or killed innocents. He can’t promise that before the drought, let alone now.

Wu Yan answers, “Perhaps The Lord Immortal believes you can become a good man in the future.”

Yang Zhi gives a bitter smile. “Yang cannot become a good man. I fear I will have to kill more in the future.”

Wu Yan responds, “The Lord Immortal never misjudges. Don’t belittle yourself. If you kill bad people, aren’t you saving others?”

Yang Zhi waves his hand, unwilling to speak further.

With Wu Yan’s assistance, he climbs onto the carriage and immediately notices the strange wheels. But what shocks him more than the wheels is the sight of the cart filled with water, dry food, and even horse rations—all neatly organized.

Just a moment ago, they were on the brink of death. Now, “fortune from the heavens” has descended upon them.

Yang Zhi’s hands tremble, and his steps falter. If Wu Yan hadn’t supported him, he would have fallen again.

For the first twenty years of his life, Yang Zhi lives a smooth, prosperous life—the son of a wealthy landowner, born into a status beyond the reach of commoners.

But he is a sentimental man, always pitying the weak and unable to bear seeing others suffer.

To this day, he still doesn’t know whether his decision to take the farmhands to the county government is right or wrong.

His family’s century-old foundation has been destroyed because of him.

Though the mountain king saved his family, he couldn’t save the tenant farmers.

His parents and siblings are now in hiding on Mount Huangshan, dreading government crackdowns. The peaceful days they once knew are now far out of reach.

People praise him—praise his loyalty, praise his bravery, and call him a good man.

But only he knows how much he has sacrificed to earn that praise.

His parents weep daily, his siblings no longer speak to him, and even the tenant farmers likely don’t thank him.

Had he not gone to the county office, most of them could have continued to farm in peace.

But he did go, and the family estate was confiscated, the farmers driven off land their families had tilled for generations. Farming was all they knew. Could they find new land in a foreign place? Could they even feed themselves?

His fleeting moment of indignation has only led to destruction. It ruined his family’s foundation, severed the tenants’ livelihoods, and forced his family to take to the mountains as bandits. As for him, he goes from being a young master to becoming the second-in-command of a bandit group.

Yet he still doesn’t feel he does the right thing—nor can he say for sure what he does is wrong.

Is it wrong to stand up for the tenants? Is it wrong to pity the weak? Is it wrong to aspire to be virtuous?

Yang Zhi can’t find the answers. He can only keep moving forward. Perhaps, in the end, he will learn whether his actions are right or wrong.

“Thank you,” Yang Zhi says, looking into Wu Yan’s eyes. “Does The Lord Immortal have a name? If I reach the south safely, I will build a statue in his honor, so he may enjoy incense offerings forever.”

Wu Yan shakes his head. “That’s unnecessary. Whether you believe in the immortal or not, whether you build a statue or not—it doesn’t matter to him.”

Yang Zhi murmurs, “Immortal, huh…”

“Come, get some water.” Wu Yan says, taking out a barrel of water from the cart. It’s a wooden barrel, and even a strong man has to use all his strength to pour it carefully so it won’t spill.

Yang Zhi and the others eagerly grab the cups prepared in the carriage, bringing them to their mouths one by one and drinking deeply.

By the time they finish, Yang Zhi can feel his stomach full of water, the sloshing sound audible with each step he takes. They have finally drunk enough and are ready to lie down and rest, but none of them move from their spots.

Wu Yan speaks up: “Since there are no objections, we’ll be leaving now.”

“Chen Liu!” Yang Zhi suddenly calls out.

Chen Liu, who has been hiding behind the group, flinches, unwilling to respond or step forward. He wants nothing more than to avoid further interaction with Yang Zhi and the others.

However, to his surprise, Yang Zhi walks straight toward him, bowing respectfully for a long time. His voice trembles slightly as he says, “I offended you before.”

Chen Liu looks around helplessly, blinking before responding with a dry tone, “I… I’ve repaid the kindness to my brothers. We no longer owe each other anything. If we meet again, please don’t recognize me.”

Yang Zhi remains silent, still maintaining his bow.

Wu Yan exchanges a look with Chen Liu, and the group moves on without speaking further, returning down the official road in silence.

Cao’er whispers to Sarah, “Sister, is that it?” She had expected to use her repeating crossbow, but it’s probably better she hasn’t.

Sarah yawns, and Cao’er rubs her eyes. “Yeah, it’s all done,” she replies, as if to show off, even though it seems there isn’t much to boast about this trip.

Cao’er breathes a sigh of relief, her face lighting up with a smile. “Looks like The Lord Immortal is watching over us!”

Sarah doesn’t argue, simply nodding in agreement. It’s part of being a good bodyguard—respecting the boss’s image and not disrupting their stage.

Only Yang Zhi and his group remain, watching them leave, their expressions filled with complicated thoughts.

Yang Zhi murmurs faintly, “Immortal…”