Chapter 14: The Mysterious Seed

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Just as Su Liu was about to check out with her items, the little fluffy creature perched on her shoulder suddenly twitched its delicate pink nose. Its bushy tail swept unconsciously across a dusty, low shelf nearby.

“Pfft—”

A package, forgotten in the corner and almost blending into the dust, was knocked to the floor by the tail.

“Hm?” Su Liu bent down to pick it up.

The item was unremarkable, wrapped in a rough, yellowed oil paper without any label or sign of commercial circulation, as if it had been forgotten by time itself.

She weighed it in her hand—it felt light as a feather.

“What’s this? Some trash that accidentally fell out?” Su Liu muttered, intending to put it back casually. But the moment her fingertips touched the paper package, the hourglass on her backpack gave a very faint tremble.

“Oh?” Su Liu’s senses sharpened.

Having been reborn, she was especially alert to any anomalies.

This vibration was unlike the feeling when she manipulated the hourglass in the Time Maze instance; it was more like… a faint resonance.

She brought the package closer to inspect it.

Beneath the dust, the oil paper’s surface revealed faint, indistinct dark patterns with a peculiar texture, like some tough grass fibers.

This was no ordinary trash packaging.

The little fluff also lowered its head to sniff the paper, emitting a puzzled gurgling sound.

Su Liu casually tossed the packet of seeds into her shopping cart.

Pushing the cart toward the checkout counter, she noticed the cashier was an adorable little hamster, scanning items for payment.

The hamster said to Su Liu, “Dear customer, would you like to apply for a points card?”

“Accumulate 5,000 points to gain access to shop on the supermarket’s second floor.”

“The second floor mainly sells magical potion materials, various advanced vehicle parts, rare evolution materials, and more.”

Su Liu’s heart stirred with interest. “Sure, sign me up.”

“Very well, esteemed customer. A points card costs 1 Game Coin. The total is 19.8 Game Coins. You have earned 198 points. Have a pleasant day!”

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[Detected: Player’s first Game Coin expenditure within 48 hours. Congratulations! You have triggered the [Stingy Iron Rooster] title effect. This purchase is free of charge!]

Strangely, the hamster showed no special reaction, pausing briefly as if unaware of the free transaction, then proceeded to print the receipt and hand over the packaged goods to Su Liu.

Su Liu wondered if the difference in Game Coins was covered by the game developers themselves.

From her previous gaming experience, these occasionally encountered “service” areas and various instances seemed to hint at the existence of an entire hidden world behind the scenes.

Taking the packed supplies, Su Liu squeezed the mysterious paper packet in her hand and casually asked the cashier, “By the way, I found these seeds here too. They look pretty old. Do you know what kind they are?”

The hamster, without missing a beat, answered plainly, “Oh, those are the ‘Embers of Time.’ Some careless traveler must have dropped them. They’ve been in that corner for a long time, showing no life energy fluctuations and aren’t on the sale list. They look about to ‘die’—nothing special.”

“Embers of Time?” Su Liu mused over the poetic yet odd name. “About to die? They do look withered.”

“Indeed,” the cashier’s tone remained flat, as if stating a well-known fact. “Time here is chaotic yet precious, but seeds need steady, flowing time to revive. These grayish ‘Embers’ look like hope has been drained from them. Probably… they barely serve as ‘Time Anchors’ at best.”

As he said “Time Anchors,” the hamster seemed to glance faintly at the hourglass on Su Liu’s wrist, but the look was casual and fleeting.

“Time Anchors?” Su Liu’s curiosity was piqued once more as the phrase sparked a subtle resonance from the hourglass.

But she kept her expression neutral, smiling faintly. “Alright then, they look pitiful. I’ll keep them and maybe… try to revive them.”

“As you wish.” The cashier completed the transaction with the same indifferent attitude. His figure seemed even more ethereal in the shifting light.

“Time is in your hands. How you use it is your wisdom. May you find your rhythm and… flavor in this chaotic journey.”

The last two words carried a strange pause before the doors of the Hamster Supermarket glowed softly, as if bidding her a gentle farewell.

Back on the path, after a large shopping spree, Su Liu felt invigorated. She tossed the supplies into her space and resumed her journey.

Feeling in high spirits, she activated the hourglass’s slow-down function once again.

Unconsciously, it was already seven o’clock; her time management system reminded her it was time for dinner and leisure.

Su Liu returned to her space carrying a bronze chest, two rusty iron boxes, and the gathered supplies, ready to inventory and organize.

Meanwhile, the little fluff happily chewed on some spirit beast jerky nearby.

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“Phew—” Su Liu exhaled, shaking her slightly sore arms, taking in her eight-square-meter home, warmly transformed by her customizations from the spell “Good Fortune Comes.”

The massage chair sat quietly in a corner; the workbench emitted a practical glow; the brand-new dining table and chairs stood ready, awaiting their first proper dinner.

“Let’s get to work!”

She cheered herself on, eyes sparkling with efficiency.

“Go, Sister Liu!” the little fluff chimed in excitedly.

First, Su Liu needed to sort the supplies and find a place for everything.

She dumped all the items onto the clean floor, and instantly, a colorful array of goods mingled with the supermarket’s unique scent—a mix of food, detergents, and paper—filled the air.

With almost reverent seriousness, she carefully separated the fresh produce—

bright green lettuce, plump apples, earthy potatoes and carrots—

along with several boxes of precious shelf-stable milk, guiding them with her consciousness into the newly added stillness compartment of the solid wood cabinet.

Frozen meat and jerky were stowed in the same stillness compartment.

Seeing her “vegetable basket” instantly fill brought an odd sense of fulfillment.

Next, rice, flour, cooking oil, salt, and spices, along with a somewhat curled “100 Home-Cooked Recipes” booklet, were neatly stored in the cabinet’s ordinary storage section.

She even gestured toward the cabinet, pondering where to put a small freezer next time to make it perfect.

Spirit beast jerky and snacks were placed separately in a prominent spot for the little fluff’s easy access.

She picked up the basic cookware set, its clinking sound accompanying her as she walked to the newly built simple stove.

The stainless steel pots found their places on a freshly nailed rack above the stove, reflecting the soft light of the space.

Porcelain bowls and utensils were neatly stacked in a nearby unused wooden box serving as a temporary cabinet.

When the last small soup spoon was put away, the kitchen area finally looked fully functional.

Medications, which she regarded as a “survival barrier,” were carefully categorized—painkillers, anti-inflammatories, fever reducers, cold medicine, and hemostatic bandages—stored separately in another small storage box originally meant for miscellaneous items.