Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 95

A warm wind blows in from nowhere. If not for the snow and ice he remembers before falling asleep, Chen Yan would think he is back in his house in the capital, lying beside the wood stove.

He turns his head to look at Lord Chen, lying not far away, and finally feels a little more at ease.

Since their host hasn’t killed them and has even cleaned the house for them, he likely means no harm.

But this place… is too strange. Chen Yan’s head spins, and he can’t make sense of anything.

Wars between countries are frequent now, and rulers everywhere are recruiting talent, and all sorts of “reclusive masters” surface.

Could they have actually encountered a real one?

Chen Yan recalls what the man said yesterday—this place is within the territory of Chen.

There are indeed continuous mountains along the Chen border, and when the state of Chen is first established, the Marquis of Chen builds a pass behind those mountains. Though technically within Chen territory, that area is steep and barren, inhabited by wild beasts and rarely visited.

Those inside the pass don’t leave it, and the barbarians outside don’t come in.

If not for this strange house, they likely die here.

Even in good weather, it takes more than a month to reach the pass from here.

Thinking of this, Chen Yan can’t help but feel lucky.

“Awake already?”

Chen Yan looks toward the door and sees a slender woman holding a cup of water. She is dressed the same as the strange woman from yesterday, but her hair is shorter. Although she has a slim figure, her movements are brisk and direct, more like a man’s.

Chen Yan struggles to sit up, but the woman quickly says, “No need to be so formal. You don’t have necrosis, but you do have frostbite. Rest a bit more before moving around. Drink some hot water. If you’re hungry, I’ll bring you something to eat.”

She places the water on the low table beside the bed. Chen Yan glances at her profile—her skin is smooth and fair like a noblewoman’s, but her mannerisms are those of a country girl. He can’t guess her identity.

“May I ask, young lady, where is your master? I owe him my life and would like to thank him in person.”

Chen Yan is about to bow, but the woman says, “You won’t see him. But your king might.”

Chen Yan is puzzled. “Why?”

The woman smiles. “Think about it.”

She turns and walks to check on Lord Chen’s condition. Though Chen Yan hasn’t been in any real battles, he trains daily and stays in decent shape. Lord Chen, being a ruler, likely stays in the palace for long periods before this campaign. His body is weak and now ravaged by the cold—he has a high fever. If the fever doesn’t break, they might need to administer fluids.

As Chen Yan watches the woman reach into Lord Chen’s clothing, he panics. “Young lady, don’t!”

But before he finishes speaking, the woman has already withdrawn her hand—now holding a slender object.

It doesn’t look like a needle. The casing is transparent. Chen Yan has no idea what it is.

She glances at it and mutters, “38.6 degrees. It’s dropped a little.”

Noticing Chen Yan’s uneasy expression, she raises her chin and says, “Relax. If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn’t have waited this long. Besides, killing you doesn’t benefit us.”

Chen Yan forces a bitter smile. “It was… a vile assumption on my part.”

The woman waves her hand. “Drink some water. Stop worrying about everyone else—you’re not in great shape either. Your head’s spinning, right? You’ve got a mild fever. I don’t know what you call it here… a chill? Wind-cold?”

Chen Yan’s eyes widen. His lips tremble as he asks in disbelief, “His Majesty… has caught a chill?”

“His Majesty…” Seeing Chen Yan look like the sky has fallen, Feng Ling quickly reassures him, “It’s just a minor issue. He’ll recover soon. There’s no danger to his life.”

Chen Yan finally relaxes a little, though still uneasy. “Wind chill is a serious illness. Even in Wei, the state with the most physicians, they wouldn’t dare promise a cure.”

Feng Ling replies, “That’s because medicine is still in its early stages. If the cause isn’t understood, how can the illness be treated?”

Chen Yan’s eyes light up. “From what you’re saying, someone here has found the cause? And there’s medicine to treat it?”

Just then, Zhou Yuanhe walks in.

Feng Ling lets out a breath of relief. “He’s here. Brother Zhou, I’ll step out for now,” she says, walking toward the door.

Zhou Yuanhe nods. “Tell Aunt Li to make some porridge for him.”

Feng Ling nods and leaves.

“You don’t need to ask. Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.” Zhou Yuanhe unfolds a stool at the foot of the bed and sits beside Chen Yan. “My surname is Zhou—Zhou Yuanhe.”

Chen Yan replies, “I’m Chen Yan, courtesy name Duoqing. Forgive me, I can’t get out of bed.”

“Chen Duoqing?” Zhou Yuanhe raises an eyebrow. What kind of name is that?

Chen Yan explains, “Affection for others, affection for the world—my father hopes I’ll learn the ways of the world.”

Zhou Yuanhe nods. “Good name.”

Sure enough, in this era, any name can be made to sound meaningful.

“Your Lord hasn’t woken up yet,” Zhou says. “So I can only ask you. There are about 2,000 people outside. If they stay out in the snow overnight, less than half will survive. What do you plan to do?”

Chen Yan answers, “Please save the soldiers of the Chen State!”

Zhou Yuanhe asks, “And what’s in it for me? We’re warm, fed, and safe here. We’ve already saved you two out of goodwill. Why should we save the rest?”

Chen Yan immediately offers, “If you’re willing, I will remove my armor and lead your horse. I will serve as a humble soldier under your command…”

“No need. You’re not worth much.” Zhou Yuanhe adds, “And I don’t like riding horses.” He pauses. “Besides, I was entrusted by someone to save you. If you want to give thanks, thank them.”

Chen Yan asks, “Was it the master of this house who saved us?”

Zhou Yuanhe nods. “Yes.”

Chen Yan asks carefully, “Does the master have any requests? If so, I will gladly offer whatever I have.”

Zhou Yuanhe hesitates, recalling Ye Zhou’s advice—don’t be too direct about asking for money. Let them understand the value without making it sound like a transaction.

This isn’t his strength. He’s a doctor, not a salesman.

After a long pause, he says, “Valuables. The master here loves collecting precious items from the mortal world.”

Chen Yan catches the word and mutters, “From the mortal world…”

His voice suddenly rises. “In the past, when the Zhou dynasty was founded, the first emperor was once detained on an immortal mountain by the fairy of Luo River—drunk for ten whole years. Have the immortals now descended into the world? Could the master here be that very Immortal of Luoshui?”

Zhou Yuanhe, half-dizzy already, shakes his head. “Not a woman.”

Chen Yan lets out a sigh of relief. “Honestly, if the king were to be trapped here for ten years, I wouldn’t know what to do. Since that’s the case, though the king hasn’t woken up, I’ll decide on his behalf. If it’s treasures you want, I have the Emperor’s Sword, gifted by the king himself. This sword once belonged to the Zhou royal family. Forged by the famous craftsman Weiwei using black iron from beyond the heavens. Though it’s a sword, it has no edge—it’s a gentleman’s sword.”

He reaches around, but his armor and swords are missing. He looks to Zhou Yuanhe.

“Your things are outside,” Zhou Yuanhe says. “Don’t worry. We’re not thieves. No one will touch them unless you ask.”

Chen Yan says, “Then may I trouble you to deliver the Emperor’s Sword to your master? It’s easy to recognize—double-edged and blunt.”

Zhou Yuanhe nods in relief. Honestly, he doesn’t know how Ye Zhou has handled the natives in other planes. To him, this is more exhausting than seeing patients. At least patients don’t make you talk circles around them.

Language, truly, is an art.

An art Zhou Yuanhe has no intention of mastering.

“They’ll bring you food soon. Eat well. If you were honest, your soldiers should get a good night’s rest.” He stands and folds the stool.

Just before he leaves, Chen Yan asks, “Sir, may I ask, how should we address your master?”

Zhou Yuanhe thinks for a moment and replies, “Just call him ‘Lord Immortal.’ I came late—those who arrived earlier all call him that.”

“Immortal…” Chen Yan repeats the word. After Zhou Yuanhe leaves, he turns to look at the sleeping Lord Chen.

Whether an immortal or a master recluse—just from this place, from these people—it’s clear this is no ordinary place.

Perhaps this isn’t a disaster after all, but a turning point in their crisis—a blessing in disguise!

“Emperor’s Sword?” Ye Zhou takes the sword from Wu Yan’s hand and immediately notices it’s not bronze. “Celestial iron from beyond the heavens? Meteorite?”

He swings the sword—it’s noticeably heavier than others.

But Ye Zhou has never seen a meteorite-forged sword, so he can’t tell if it’s real. He’s reluctant to trade it to the system, but if he doesn’t, he won’t know its value.

“Let’s gamble,” Ye Zhou says, handing the sword to Zou Ming. “Store it somewhere. Just over 2,000 people—it won’t cost much to keep them fed and warm.”

Grain is still cheap—bulk rice sells for two yuan a pound, but Ye Zhou buys at wholesale prices, so his costs are even lower.

It’ll still be a big expense long-term, but compared to this sword, Ye Zhou thinks it’s worth it.

Besides, he isn’t short on money. Supporting 2,000 people—or even 20,000—is no big deal for him now.

Zou Ming holds the sword, clearly impressed.

It’s exquisitely crafted, yet maintains a sense of ancient weight and simplicity. The craftsmanship is superb—even in the modern era with more refined techniques, this would still be a fine blade. Let alone the claim that it’s forged from a meteorite.

“Not bad, right? I don’t know much, but I can tell this is a good sword.” Ye Zhou runs a finger lightly along its length. The blade trembles with a clear, pleasant hum. It has no edge, but it’s still powerful.

Zou Ming nods. “We just don’t know if it’s really a meteorite.”

Ye Zhou smiles. “That’s why it’s a gamble.”

Either way, he’s not going to let the system have it. No way he’s trading such a fine sword to the system.