Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 94

They round the final bend and finally see the strange house. Behind the dead branches stands a square structure, seemingly formed by nature, with no signs of carving. Several colorless windows let pale light spill out—not like firelight, but cold and unnatural.

Silhouettes pass by the windows.

“General,” the scout whispers, “I’ll get a closer look.”

The general nods. “Go. Be careful.”

If this is a trap, they’ll fight to the last man.

If it’s salvation, then heaven has not yet abandoned the State of Chen.

The scout creeps forward, staying low and away from the light. Small and nimble, with large feet, he is perfect for scouting. He presses close to the wall and edges toward the window.

One glance through it—and cold sweat drenches his back

It was said that the royal family of Wei once possessed a treasure: a translucent, colorless cup. The King of Zhao had offered seven cities for it in vain. When Wei later fell into chaos, the cup vanished.

And now—this window, this translucent surface—it’s exactly like that legendary cup.

One cup is worth seven cities… and it’s being used as a window.

What kind of wealth is this?

Who builds such a place, here of all places?

Could it belong to some hidden master?

The scout shakes off the wild thoughts and leans closer to look inside.

And sure enough—there are people.

A woman!

It’s freezing outside, yet she wears only a dress with her arms exposed. But it doesn’t look torn—its edges are clean and smooth, as if always made that way.

Her hair hangs just past her shoulders. She wears no jewelry, not even a single hairpin.

In the past, the scout might have thought she’s just a poor commoner. But now, he doesn’t believe she lacks jewelry because she can’t afford any.

The windows alone are worth a fortune. How could they not afford jewelry?

The woman stands by a shelf, seemingly counting something, swaying idly from side to side.

She isn’t even wearing a skirt!

The scout feels dizzy. How can a woman wear just trousers, her thin legs fully outlined? It’s shameless!

He looks away for a moment. When he looks back—the strange woman has vanished.

He exhales, slightly relieved. Suddenly—
A woman’s face appears right at the window, black eyes staring unblinkingly at him.

The scout startles and falls backwards. In that instant, the woman opens the window, grabs his collar with one hand, and yanks him forward.

She’s tall—much taller than him—and strong. Even though he’s a man, she lifts him with one arm until his feet nearly leave the ground. He struggles with all his might, but he can’t break free.

The warm air from inside hits his face. After being frozen for so long, the scout is momentarily stunned. In that moment of hesitation, he loses his last chance to escape.

The woman pulls him to the window and pins him with her arm.

She says, “There’s actually a living person out here.”

The scout comes to his senses and shouts, “I’m a soldier of the State of Chen! If you kill me, you’ll be punished!”

The woman sneers. “Do you think I’m afraid?”

Despite her pretty face, she’s more terrifying than a yaksha. The scout can’t escape her grasp, nor can he tear himself away from the warmth inside. He’s at a complete loss.

Then he saw the woman reach into her trouser pocket.

His eyes widen in shock. You can store things in trousers?!

She pulls out a strange object, no bigger than a human palm, brings it to her mouth, presses a red bump, and speaks into it: “Boss, someone’s here. A soldier.”

The scout trembles in confusion. 

A voice answers from the device. “Just one?”

The scout shakes all over, voice trembling: “Voice… voice transmission over thousands of miles…”

The woman glances at him. “There should be more.”

She tightens her arm around his neck. Her muscles are as hard as iron. The scout’s face turns red and swollen, his eyes bulging.

She smiles. “Tell me—who sent you? How many are there?”

The scout slaps at her arm, but his strength is like a gnat trying to shake a tree. Useless.

Fortunately, she isn’t trying to kill him. Just as he’s on the verge of passing out, she lets go. Her face changes, and she smiles sweetly.

“It’s cold outside, isn’t it? I invited you in to rest. It’s warm in here. Just answer my question. Otherwise, I’ll have to send you to your death.”

The scout coughs violently. When he finally stops, he clenches his fists, closes his eyes, and says, “No need to ask. Girl, just kill me. If I beg for my life, I’m not a man!”

“Girl?” she echoes, amused. “Interesting. Since you won’t talk, I’ll go find them myself.” She calls out, “Zou Ming! Someone’s here! Bring two guns and follow me! Get a few more people!”

The scout instinctively turns toward her voice. Sure enough, someone emerges.

It’s a man, dressed just like the woman—in a shirt and trousers with his arms exposed.

Is that her husband?

No… if he were, why would she call him by name? Besides, no ordinary man could handle a woman like that.

The man walks over, rests one hand on the window frame, and leaps outside.

Isn’t he cold in those clothes?!

Zou Ming says, “Probably over by the withered tree. There’s only one way up.”

The woman nods and speaks into the device again. “Boss, we’ll go check it out. If it’s clear, we’ll bring them back. If not, we’ll deal with them. That okay?”

The same male voice replies, “Alright. Go ahead.”

There’s a faint sound behind the voice—like trickling water or fine rain.

The scout is thoroughly confused. Though still held in the woman’s grasp, he no longer struggles. He murmurs, “Where is this place… Who are you? Humans? Demons? Immortals?”

No one answers.

The woman calls a few strong men. They tie him up and pull him through the window.

He gives up resisting, slumps on the ground, arms bound behind his back. He leans against the wall, exhausted. Warm air blows over him, slowly reviving the feeling in his numb limbs.

It’s really warm here… so different from outside.

He looks out and sees the man and woman walking toward the general and the king, holding their strange weapons.

The scout cries out through the window: “General!! It’s a trap! It’s a trap! General!!!” He shouts again and again, but the two guards beside him don’t stop him. He turns to the man on his left, confused. “Why… aren’t you stopping me?”

The man replies expressionlessly, “Once the window’s shut, no matter how loud you yell, no one outside will hear you.”

The scout slumps. “I see… So that’s it… That’s how it is…”

—

“General, Chen Dan hasn’t returned yet.” The personal guards support Chen Hou, whose expression grows more and more tense as he looks at the house. “Your Majesty… if we stay any longer, I’m afraid Your Majesty will be in danger.”

The general presses his lips together. “Wait a bit longer. If Chen Dan doesn’t return, we attack. Bring the tiger skin blanket!” the general orders. “Wrap His Majesty up again!”

Chen Hou, now wrapped like a large bundle, still feels little warmth, and his lips are beginning to darken from the cold.

“The marquis is in danger, you can’t hesitate, General!” the soldier urges. “General, give me a team of soldiers. I’ll lead them to charge!”

The general shakes his head. “No. Too few soldiers can still move. If we lose more… even if we capture this house, how will we leave? We have no guide here. The snow and ice are everywhere. If we’re trapped, there’s no way to survive.” He frowns. “Even if we attack, at least one of us must survive.”

Moreover, a house in such a desolate place was too strange. It felt unnatural. He couldn’t afford to act recklessly.

“Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures!” the soldier insisted.

“Extraordinary times?” a woman’s voice cut in. “If you’re going to scheme, fine—but your voices are so loud. Is it really wise to plot so openly?”

The general and guard immediately drew their swords. “Form up! Protect His Majesty!” the general shouted.

The general and guards draw their swords. “Form up! Protect His Majesty!” he shouts.

Exhausted soldiers raise their shields around Chen Hou.

A male voice follows—cold and indifferent. “The Marquis of Chen?”

The general ignores the question. “Who are you? From Lu? Zhao? Where is this place? We are soldiers of Chen, escorting Lord Chen home. Please grant us safe passage.”

The voice replies, “We are neither from Lu nor Zhao. You are in Chen territory.”

The general sighs in relief. “If you are not enemies of Chen, then surely we can reach an understanding. I offer a hundred gold—no, a thousand! Please, save our lord’s life! We’ll repay you fully!”

He sheathes his sword and steps forward. “May I see your faces? I, Chen Jian, have laid down my weapon and mean no harm.”

A female voice replies, “Come forward.”

He trudges through the snow. Two figures gradually come into view—tall and still, untouched by the cold.

The man is tall, but not beyond the reach of ordinary soldiers.

But the woman… she is only slightly shorter, still half a head taller than the general. Her bare arms are thick—not fat, but solid with muscle. She’s more powerfully built than most men.

The general stops, heart trembling.

Up close, he sees the two holding strange objects. He doesn’t know what they are, but instinct tells him they are weapons.

They feel… different. They fear no cold, are tall and slender, with long fingers—not ordinary folk. From their bearing, they must be of noble descent.

The general lowers his head and cups his fists. “I am Chen Yan, general of the Chen State. We attacked Lu’s third pass and were ambushed. The king is gravely wounded. If you help us, once he recovers, he will reward you handsomely.”

Chen Shu glances at Zou Ming. They both nod.

Chen Shu says, “Only you can bring Chen Hou. No tricks.” Her voice turns cold. “Or I’ll kill all of you.”

The general gives a bitter smile. “Don’t worry. Our soldiers can no longer fight. But… if you harm our king, we’ll fight you to the death!”

Chen Shu smiles faintly. “You still have some spirit. We’ll wait here. Bring your king.”

The general turns back, moving through deep snow, one step at a time.

Many horses are stuck and must be killed.

It’s painful. To them, the horses are more than livestock. They are comrades. Killing them cuts deep.

Carrying a grown man alone is nearly impossible. The general slings Chen Hou over his back, tying him securely.

“General… it’s just you and His Majesty. If they’re hostile—”

The general sighs. “What choice do we have? Wait for spring? We don’t even know how many of them there are. That house is a fortress. How many of us can even lift a sword now?”

He stands. “But those two… they’re rare beings. Maybe they won’t harm us. Maybe they’ll save us. If they mean harm, we’ll find out soon enough.”

Carrying Chen Hou feels like carrying the weight of a nation. He says nothing more, marching onward.

He bears not only the king—but all of Chen’s hope.

A soldier watches him, tears in his eyes. “A hundred years of prosperity… our Chen…”

A comrade growls, “Shut up! His Majesty’s not dead! Cry again and I’ll cut you down myself!”

The armored soldier wipes his face. He doesn’t dare cry—if he does now, his tears will freeze.

The general’s legs are numb. He can only force them to move by sheer will, lifting and placing them one step at a time.

To be a general of Chen is no privilege. Chen is weak and in decline. Though he holds the title of general, it’s in name only. Even after being granted a military position, he has never fought a real battle. All he knows of marching and warfare comes from books.

He is well aware of his own limits, and he also knows that if the monarch hasn’t personally taken command this time, the Zhao State would certainly use it as an excuse to strike at Chen.

He knows the truth—it has never been him holding up the monarch—it’s always the monarch supporting him.

Loyalty to the king! Loyalty to the ruler!

Chen Yan grits his teeth. He can die—but not the king.

When he finally reaches the two figures, he collapses into the snow.

With his last strength, he reaches out and whispers, barely audible, “Save… my king…”

In his hazy daze, he hears a woman’s voice say, “Now that is a man.”