Chapter 12

Chapter 12: How to Enter Spacetime Supermarket

“With liquor like that,” Xiao Ying Chun asked, smiling, “one bowl per person still isn’t enough?”

Fu Chen An waved both hands quickly. “Enough, enough! I didn’t expect it to be this strong. If we drink too much, it’ll ruin things.”

Twenty cases of instant noodles. Three boxes of medicine. Forty buckets of liquor, fifty jin per bucket.

Once the dollies rolled outside, Fu Chen An told the soldiers to take the goods back first. He stayed behind—he still needed to discuss something else with the boss lady.

The soldiers had heard rumors for days: the shop’s owner was a young woman, beautiful and mysterious. The moment they saw Fu Chen An linger, they started hooting like wolves.

“Oh! So that’s why the General dressed up so nicely today!”

“Nicely? The General is elegant and handsome!”

“General, go, go! We’re fine!”

“We’ll head back to camp and wait for you, General!”

“If you’re busy, General, it’s fine if you don’t come back tonight!”

Laughter rolled through the group as they carried buckets and cases away, half teasing, half genuinely delighted.

Fu Chen An shook his head, a helpless smile tugging at his mouth, and turned back into the shop.

Xiao Ying Chun dragged a plastic stool to the outside of the counter. Fu Chen An sat as if he’d done it a hundred times and handed her a bag of gold ingots.

She opened it.

Thirty ingots.

More than twenty million yuan, just like that.

Xiao Ying Chun straightened, suddenly all business. She raised her phone, showing him the medicine list she’d photographed. “These medicines will take three days to prepare. Will you still be here by then?”

Fu Chen An’s gaze flicked over her face—bright eyes, a healthy flush. “In time.”

Within three days, the withdrawal order shouldn’t come down.

Taking Yong Zhou was the soldiers’ work. Peace talks belonged to the Imperial Court.

Fu Chen An couldn’t control any of that. The Fu Family Army had finished the hardest fight. What came next was waiting for orders with his father.

Return to the capital?

Hold position?

Fall back to Tai Zhou?

The Emperor was suspicious. He likely wouldn’t dare keep Fu Chen An and his father together in camp for long.

A strange heaviness settled in Fu Chen An’s chest, and he found himself explaining anyway. “The medicine isn’t for now. It’s for later.”

He paused, then continued. “The Fu Family Army will be transferred. When that happens, it won’t be easy to come to your shop again. The army doctor suggested we stock up while we’re still here, in case we can’t buy later.”

Xiao Ying Chun stared at him. Then, genuinely baffled, she said, “But only you can enter this place. You can come in no matter where you are.”

Fu Chen An blinked. “I can?”

“Of course.” Xiao Ying Chun leaned forward, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret—though the shop was empty besides them. “All you need to do is silently think Spacetime Supermarket. Walk fifty steps north, then twenty steps east. You’ll see the door.”

That was what the system notes said.

She didn’t know why Fu Chen An had never figured it out. Was he really planning to stop coming?

How could that be allowed?

This shop was her golden money-printing machine.

Fu Chen An stared at her, stunned. “Really?”

“If you don’t believe me,” Xiao Ying Chun said, laughing, “go try.”

He didn’t hesitate. He bolted out the back door like a man chasing fate.

Out in Xi Ma Town, the soldiers stationed there watched their young general sprint out of an alley and head for the open fields.

One of them squinted. “Didn’t the General go to buy supplies? Why is he back already?”

Another snickered. “Maybe the pretty owner turned him down.”

A third said, dead serious, “So the General is heartbroken and ran out to cry where no one can see.”

A fourth lifted his chin. “Or he’s plotting something. Let’s go.”

They followed.

They found Fu Chen An walking north in slow, measured steps. After a stretch, he turned and walked east—still step by step, as if counting with his bones.

The soldiers stared.

“It’s over,” one whispered. “Rejected and driven mad.”

“Quick!” another yelped. “Go tell the Marshal!”

One of them took off at a sprint.

The remaining three watched as a mass of fog gathered ahead, swelling until it was the size of a house. Fu Chen An didn’t slow. He walked straight into it, steady as a blade.

The soldiers exchanged looks, hearts thudding.

A moment passed.

Fu Chen An did not emerge from the far side.

Another moment.

Still nothing.

“That fog is wrong,” one soldier hissed. “Go tell the Marshal!”

Another runner took off.

Marshal Fu Zhong Hai arrived soon after, face tight with restrained fury. After hearing the report, he stared at the fog and issued an order at once. “Physician Niu. Check if it’s poisonous.”

Physician Niu approached pale-faced, like a man walking toward the executioner. He leaned in, sniffed carefully, waited for the world to tilt.

It didn’t.

He exhaled hard. “No poison.”

“Send one man in,” Fu Zhong Hai said. “See if he can pass through.”

A soldier went in with the resolve of a martyr.

A moment later, he stepped out the far side, untouched.

“Another.”

Another soldier went in.

Another soldier came out.

Both were fine.

Fu Zhong Hai’s gaze stayed fixed on the fog. “Wait here. We’ll talk after it disperses.”

His son was skilled. His master had always said his fate was hard as iron.

He couldn’t have survived war only to die inside a patch of fog.

Inside Spacetime Supermarket, Fu Chen An had no idea his father was outside, panic climbing his spine and threatening to spark a flare-up he didn’t want to think about. He was too busy looking at Xiao Ying Chun like she’d just rewritten the world.

“It really worked,” he said, breathless with excitement. “I walked in from an empty field!”

Xiao Ying Chun was pleased too. [Her only client was still hooked. The future was still gold.]

In her good mood, she handed him a bottle. “Assam milk tea. On the house.”

Fu Chen An took it, twisted the cap, and sipped.

His eyes widened. “This… it’s sweet, but not cloying. It’s fragrant.”

Xiao Ying Chun nodded, then grabbed a handful of small, vacuum-sealed packs. “Try this too.”

Jerky.

Fu Chen An chewed, then nodded again. “Good. We’ve tried making jerky too, but it never tastes like this. And in hot weather it spoils easily.”

“This won’t.” Xiao Ying Chun slipped smoothly into sales mode. “It’s treated to keep, and it’s vacuum-packed—no air inside.”

She tapped the pack for emphasis. “If you take it on campaign, in weather like this it’ll keep for at least a month.”

“That’s excellent.” Fu Chen An didn’t hesitate. “How much do you have? I’ll take it all.”

Xiao Ying Chun weighed the jerky and bagged it up. Then she added tofu strips, crispy peas in different flavors, and whatever else she could reach on the shelf. Fu Chen An tasted, nodded, and bought, until a full dolly was piled with bags.

At a certain point, Xiao Ying Chun almost felt guilty. “You can come back again later. Why not stop here for today?”

Fu Chen An looked at the mountain of snacks and actually laughed. “Fine.”

Then his gaze drifted to the plastic bucket. “That bucket doesn’t make water taste strange. It’s better than a leather water bag. Next time, can you sell me some?”

“Easy.” Xiao Ying Chun agreed at once and enthusiastically showed him different sizes.

Fu Chen An watched her gesture with her hands, then chose without a second thought. “The ten-jin one.”

With that, plus the empty bottles left from the cases of mineral water he’d bought earlier, he could carry water anywhere he found a source.

Too convenient to ignore.