Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 71

Zhou Yuanhe is in the “ward,” and when Kane sees him, he immediately starts screaming.

As a doctor, Zhou Yuanhe can’t stand the screaming, so he lets Feng Ling take over the task of communicating with Kane.

Feng Ling nods. “I will, boss.”

Kane grows particularly dependent on Feng Ling. He doesn’t seem to see her as a woman but more like an elder—almost like a sister or a mother. He often shares his food with her.

Feng Ling thinks she has a cold enough heart—how else could she have survived in the Public Service Center? But under Kane’s gaze, her heart turns unbearably soft.

She looks at him—like a bird with a broken wing. Battered and covered in wounds, but still yearning for freedom and affection.

She looked at him—like a bird with a broken wing. —battered and covered in wounds, but still yearning for freedom and affection.

Has Kane done anything wrong?

He doesn’t seem to have. He is just born, grows up, and gets caught in a situation beyond his control.

Even if he has done something unforgivable, he should at least know what he has done, have a chance to defend himself, and perhaps even die to atone for it—rather than becoming a slave.

Feng Ling says, “You can have meat today.”

She walks into the “ward” carrying a tray with a sandwich on it. It is filled with pure meat—ham and bacon—along with egg, lettuce, and tomato. Not only does it look good, it smells delicious.

But Kane doesn’t eat. He smells the aroma and pushes the tray Feng Ling sets down toward her. He says in a small voice, “You eat it. I’ll keep watch so they don’t find out.”

Feng Ling laughs. “I have my own. I get to eat meat too—every day. This is prepared just for you. You need to eat more, your body will get better, your back will straighten, and one day, you’ll be summoned by the Moon God to work with me.”

Kane looks surprised. “Can I really work for the Moon God?” Then, panic takes over. He waves his hands frantically, saying, “No, no, I don’t deserve it!”

He looks at Feng Ling, trembling. “No, no, someone like me appearing before the Moon God would be blasphemy.”

Feng Ling stares at him in silence.

So… do you believe in God, or not?

Feng Ling: “In the eyes of God, everyone is the same. You are not lowly because you were once a slave, and those people outside are not noble just because they are nobles or kings. You all have the same limbs and facial features, and God does not see any difference between you.”

Her words seem to comfort Kane once again.

Feng Ling sighs inwardly.

As long as Ye Zhou is considered a god, Kane accepts everything and follows every word. For Kane, the concept of God transcends ordinary understanding. In his world, he is oppressed, bullied, and abused simply because he is human. He doesn’t trust people, particularly men. During his years of suffering, it is men who whip him, torment him, and betray him.

After leaving the “ward,” Feng Ling takes the dinner plate and water cup to the sink.

Outside the back door of the supermarket, Cao’er Niang and the others are sunning quilts in the fine sunlight. After a full day under the sun, the quilts will be warm and carry the scent of sunshine.

“That room is great!” Cao’er Niang says cheerfully. “We can fit two beds in there. We can each have our own! Cao’er thrashes around in her sleep—she’s kicked me more than once.”

Cao’er hurriedly whispers, “Not that many times, just two.”

Cao’er Niang smiles, unbothered. “What’s the matter? Kicking your mother twice isn’t a big deal?”

Cao’er mutters, “But you punched me too.”

The nearby employees, who are practicing with their crossbows, chuckle. “Are you two putting on a martial arts show or something?”

Cao’er Niang laughs. “Oh, that reminds me—I need to take out my crossbow and get in some practice as well.”

Cao’er whispers even more quietly, “…That’s mine.”

But no one hears her.

Ah, the first time she gets that crossbow, she’s terrified. But now? Not only is she no longer afraid—because her mother always wants to use it, she begins to think of it as something precious and wants to practice more with it herself.

“He’s a slave?” Cao’er asks, shocked while chatting with Feng Ling.

Others gather around, intrigued.

“I thought only the tribes beyond the borders had slaves. We don’t have them in the Daliang Dynasty.”

“I heard that the children of slaves inherit their mother’s status. Even if their father is a noble, they’re still slaves.”

“Those nobles must be terrible. Watching their own flesh and blood become slaves!”

“Yes, they look down on slaves, yet sleep with female slaves. How disgusting!”

The women are indignant, and Feng Ling, watching their reactions, can’t help but smile. She finds their passion endearing. “Slave societies have existed for a long time,” she says.

Feng Ling, having studied history, knows that even in modern times, slavery persists in some regions. Different cultures, different histories.

“Then he’s really pitiful,” someone remarks.

“How about we ask Aunt Lin to cook him a bowl of braised pork, and deduct it from my points?” another suggests.

“Do you even have points left after all the snacks you buy?” someone else teases.

“I still have enough for a bowl of braised pork,” the first replies with a grin.

The men are curious too. “I heard the red-haired monster is afraid of men?”

“This monster is strange. He looks like a man, though,” one of them says.

Feng Ling responds, “When he was a slave, the supervisors who abused him were all men.”

The men sigh in response.

“Weren’t we the same back in our service days? No pay. Sure, they fed us, but just two coarse buns a day—how was that enough? No oil, no meat. And if the overseers thought we weren’t working hard enough, they’d beat us.”

“Plenty of people didn’t make it.”

“Especially the older ones. They didn’t want to let the young guys out, so they kept doing it themselves—and died for it. No one knows how many.”

“We are all born to parents, raised by family, but those overseers never treated us as human.”

The more the men talk, the more they feel that overseers are the same everywhere—none of them see people as people.

“Good thing we stuck together—those of us from the same hometown!”

“Exactly! Only by banding together could we avoid getting bullied. At least we could fight for the buns and not starve.”

“Don’t slaves band together?”

Feng Ling shakes her head. “They don’t.”

Either they’ve grown numb, or they’ve lost all courage to resist. They only dare to go with the flow, bullying those even weaker.

Maybe they have banded together once—only to face ruthless suppression.

No one to lead them, no weapons, no food, no strength, no shared resolve. How can they resist?

Resistance isn’t just about standing up and raising your fists.

“Do you really think the boss is a god?” Feng Ling asks Cao’er as the others continue their chatter.

Cao’er is unusually sharp among them.

Cao’er nods confidently. “Of course! Don’t you believe it? The Lord Immortal performed such a miracle. How can you not believe it? The Lord Immortal is kind and generous, and you can’t even muster a bit of reverence?”

Cao’er raises her chin with pride.

Feng Ling smiles and says, “No, I was just curious. Don’t you think he looks very human—because he is human?”

Cao’er curls her lips. “Immortals aren’t like ordinary people. What kind of person is like that? Take His Majesty the Emperor for example—he’s the true dragon and son of heaven, right? But every time it’s time to collect taxes, he never shows mercy. So tell me, if he’s a dragon, why doesn’t he manage those soldiers and officials of his? His Majesty never saved us—he doesn’t care about us. But the Lord Immortal does.”

Feng Ling understands what Cao’er means. Cao’er believes Ye Zhou has done what the emperor never did, making him nobler than the emperor. And what can be nobler than an emperor? Only a God.

Feng Ling can’t find a way to argue, nor does she want to. The logic is consistent.

She smiles at Cao’er. “Thank you.”

Cao’er blinks, surprised. “Why are you thanking me? Do you think what I said makes sense?”

Feng Ling nods. “Yes, what you said makes sense.”

Ye Zhou is using a drone to survey the surroundings. After two hours, he finally spots a figure on the cliff.

Zou Ming and Chen Shu sit on either side of him, while Sarah crouches on the ground, watching the TV screen.

“Looks like a supervisor?” Zou Ming comments.

They are using the best drone available, capable of long-range surveillance and zooming in without detection.

Ye Zhou sees several emaciated people, their upper bodies exposed, crawling on the ground like dogs, their heads burrowed into the dirt, seemingly eating something. Standing beside them are several brawny men, pointing and laughing with folded arms.

Ye Zhou’s face darkens.

Zou Ming and Sarah exchange glances, sensing his mood.

Sarah speaks up, “Do you want me to go up and kill them all?”

Ye Zhou almost says yes, but he holds back. “Killing them is easy, but what do we do with the slaves afterward? Feng Ling’s idea is better. The slave owners owe them. Let the slave owners pay, and so do the supervisors who treat them like dogs.”

Ye Zhou’s eyes are cold as he stares at the image on the screen.

The slaves are kneeling, but the dogs stand.

It is a stark contrast, one only seen here.

Ye Zhou’s face is cold and unreadable. His gaze remains fixed on the scene. Not a trace of emotion in his eyes.