Famine 101: A Freewheeling Little Startup Shop

“Water…”

Water? What on earth could that mean?

Shen Dongming stood frozen on the spot.

He lowered his head and exchanged a glance with Qiu Qing behind him. The entire group looked at each other in confusion, as if they had suddenly forgotten how to read Chinese.

Was it to be taken literally?

A fruit-and-iced-drinks milk tea shop?
In this wasteland buried under molten rock?

For a moment, Shen Dongming had no idea how to respond politely.

Wang Jianguo gave a chuckle. The first time everyone set foot on the farm, no one could believe it—he himself had once gone through that phase, sitting in the ice tower with a chicken drumstick, wondering if it was all a fever dream. Now, watching their faces, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny surge of schadenfreude.

Anderson smiled and said, “Would it be possible for us to accompany you back to your camp?”

That question, at least, was easy to answer. Shen Dongming recovered quickly. “No problem. That place isn’t just occupied by my team,” he said.

“Is your camp in a large, public settlement?” Anderson asked.

“Hmm…” Shen Dongming hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “It’s hard to say it like that.
Let’s just say, it’s an excellent place to escape the heat.”

“Please, come with me.”

A lot of people, but not a large settlement? Wasn’t that contradictory? Anderson’s curiosity was piqued, and he exchanged a look with Wang Jianguo.

The group set out on their way.

Beside him, Qiu Qing tugged at Shen Dongming’s sleeve, using his secret means of communication, and wrote on the paper crane:

“Teacher, do we really trust them just like that?”

“And what good does suspicion do?” Shen Dongming patted the child’s head, his fingers moving lightly. “Don’t you see? Their equipment, their coordination, that uncanny ability to instantly disappear and reappear—these are levels of power I can hardly imagine. There might even be someone close to a [Chosen] among them. It’s possible.”

Chosen!

Qiu Qing’s eyes widened.

Legendary players said to be the closest to the gods—Qiu Qing had lived this long and never met a single one.

Was it possible there was a player of near-Chosen caliber in this team? Did Old Shen really have that high an opinion of them?

Old Shen went on:
If they truly bore us malice, we’d have no chance. They could take you hostage or simply break my legs and torture me for information. Whatever they wanted to know, it would be all too easy.
To possess the power to utterly crush me, and yet to show such respect and goodwill—such strength is truly rare. Even if it’s only surface courtesy, I’d be a fool not to appreciate it, and even more so to offend them.

To provoke a team like this is sheer stupidity!!

The words cut deep through the paper, the exclamation marks doubly emphasized. Qiu Qing shrank his neck again at the sight.

Old Shen sighed and wrote one last sentence:

There is order, too, among players.
I am a small man; I need the wisdom of the small to survive.

Qiu Qing read these lines, blinking pensively.

Old Shen crumpled the paper crane and stuffed it into Qiu Qing’s coat pocket. With a big hand, he ruffled the boy’s messy hair and pointed ahead: “Go on, lead the way.”

“Aye,” Qiu Qing answered, skipping ahead two steps to take the lead.

Amidst the endless sand and molten rock, with his bandaged foot he tapped and thumped along the ground. Soon, he found his bearings, ran up to a giant boulder, squatted down, and heaved!

Crack!

The rock shifted, revealing a narrow gap and the darkness below.

Wang Jianguo craned his neck to look. A cool breeze drifted up as a long, black crevice opened before them, with a sturdy climbing rope fastened to the rock wall, dotted with tiny lights twinkling like stars. The path wound away into the depths, disappearing at the edge of sight.

“Please. You first.”
Shen Dongming invited them,
“Welcome to the true survivor enclave atop this land of lava…”

“The Underground Cavern Network.”

…………
……

On the other side, Si Zhiyan put down the Holy Grail, stretched, and flexed his limbs.

Good, with the categories decided, now it was time to renovate the shop.

He took out the reward for leveling up the farm.

[A Freewheeling Little Startup Shop]

What? You want to start a business?
That’s great!

What? You want to start a business but you don’t want to research what actually sells, don’t want to analyze locations and foot traffic, don’t want to put on a smile and serve every passing customer… you just want to spend your parents’ savings to rent a shop, spend whatever it takes to decorate it exactly how you like, sell a few of your favorite snacks or drinks, call it an “Indie Gen-Z Manager’s Personality Shop,” hang a sign at the door that says “Only serving friends, God is not welcome,” and wait for like-minded customers to show up?

Tsk…
That’s tricky, but not impossible!

From Peter Pan’s latest—[A Freewheeling Little Startup Shop], to meet your every need!
A movable, modular, temperature-controlled 50-square-meter lot, capable of more than 80,000 types of decoration and restaurant machinery, all supplied for you—anything you want, you’ll have it! @All the best stories at Jinjiang Literature City

Chill in an air-conditioned room, play on your phone, chat freely with regulars, snap back at whoever you want—no problem!
And don’t worry, the AI clerk will apologize for you!

The only catch is… “spending your parents’ savings” might require just a tad more investment than you planned. But that’s alright—there’s always a price to pay! Who cares about a few measly coins when you’re starting your own business?

Order now: XXXX-XXXXXX

Peter Pan Toys had long been an old friend of Si Zhiyan’s—his [Yogurt Moat] came from them.

But come to think of it, was it really safe to have the shop made by a toy company? Si Zhiyan arched a brow.
…Well, what’s a “freewheeling shop” if not a kind of toy?

The usual—though the ad copy was full of holes, the phone number was still a tangled scrawl, but if you looked closely, you could make out the digits. Si Zhiyan still had no intention of calling.

Buzz!

A square of dark gray ground unfurled before Si Zhiyan, four walls and a ceiling rose up—a neat, compact fifty-square-meter cube.

Si Zhiyan clapped his hands and set to work on the little shop.

For a milk tea shop, first, three-quarters of the space would become the operations area.

There, the operations area was divided in two.

The first section, naturally, was for making fruit tea and milk tea.

Refrigerator, ice maker, sink for washing ingredients, gas stove, storage shelves for fruit—those were the basic set, all essential.

Washing fruit, simmering ingredients, brewing tea—those were all early-preparation steps, usually handled before business opened in the morning. The rearmost part of the shop would house all this, with a double door on the back wall to more easily bring in supplies.

The dish-washing sink, the sealing machine, the assembly zone, the insulated urns for tea and ice water—these were for the most frequent operations during business hours, placed closer to the front to cut down the staff’s movement on shift.

Fresh, juicy fruit would be cut into chunks right here, ready to be tossed in cups at a moment’s notice, topped by the measured swirls of fruit syrup for flavor, finished with crisp tea, sealed, shaken, packed, and handed over—perfect!

On top of all that, Si Zhiyan had specially added a “Peter Pan Multifunctional Ice Shaver.”

Now he could make custom-flavored fruit smoothies and fluffy milk ice desserts.

In this scorching region where sand and molten rock billowed everywhere and everyone suffered from heat and thirst, just imagine—a cold, sweet, icy smoothie…

The very thought was wonderful.

For the second section, Si Zhiyan chose a coffee bar area.

Near the register, he set up a coffee machine and a bean grinder. Drip kettles, filter papers, drippers, frothers—he assembled the full set for hand-brewed coffee, stocked methodically.

Not long ago, the farm had collected a new cursed item and, after feeding it to the grounds, grown a [Petite Bourgeois Forest] producing a variety of high-quality coffee beans. Better even than the scent of [Your American] in the seedbeds, and with a wider range of options.

As a half-enthusiast of pour-over coffee (that is, loved to drink but not to make it), Si Zhiyan was biased and made sure to set up a thorough coffee workspace. After all, the AI staff could handle everything and did it well.

Anyone could guess by now—in a region plagued with heat and thirst, the coffee wouldn’t sell as well as the fruit teas… but what did it matter? Si Zhiyan liked it.

After all, this was a [Freewheeling Little Startup Shop].

It was a rare chance to do as he pleased, and Si Zhiyan had every right.

Finally, a quarter of the space was reserved as a display area, the shop’s interface with the outside world. @All the best stories at Jinjiang Literature City

He set up a clear display case, a menu that was both eye-catching and elegant, a crosswise bar, and two sets of tables and chairs for dining in—there, finished.

Cold drink shops weren’t about eating in, so the tables were just for show.

In the end, Si Zhiyan picked a refreshingly cool color for the shopfront. Big, frosted letters proclaimed [Farm Iced Drink Shop], and farm vines draped beside the door, covered with lush, attractive greenery—if there was one thing the farm was never short of, it was plants.

He even set up a little air conditioner vent at the entrance, and beside it, a mist sprayer emitting a chill vapor, all to accentuate the feeling of coolness.

The aim was that from eight hundred meters away, you’d spot this store and know—here, you won’t go thirsty!

As for the recipes for milk tea, fruit tea, and shaved ice, the [Freewheeling Little Startup Shop] came preloaded with a huge array—no need for the shopkeeper to figure them out one by one.

Following the recipes, Si Zhiyan made himself a glass of icy, freshly beaten orange, sweet and sour and deeply refreshing. Delighted, he adopted the recipe on the spot.

He called in several familiar friends, spent half the day taste-testing and tweaking, and tentatively finalized the menu.

It’s worth noting that Nidhogg, the beast, protested violently while sampling—he insisted the “full sugar” wasn’t sweet enough by half; it needed another “normal” sugar level (his version of normal meant half the cup was syrup). And the “extra-large” wasn’t nearly big enough. He wanted the milk tea urns to be fifteen liters…

Si Zhiyan mercilessly ejected him from the shop.

The drink shop was made for humans—no room for dragons.

At last, evening had fallen, and everything was done.
@All the best stories at Jinjiang Literature City
Si Zhiyan, quite satisfied, clapped his hands and reopened the black-hole house that connected to the Holy Grail.

He had spent a lot of time and effort. The advance party should have entered deep into the settlement by now.

He had given clear instructions for them to scout out suitable locations for opening the shop. He wondered how that investigation had gone.

But on first glance, Si Zhiyan couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow.