A Divine Beast Is Opening a Shop? First, Tell Me the Rent

At forty-two, Liang Shouchang was running a barely surviving shop-review livestream.

When people called in, he didn't talk about dreams. He asked only three things:

How much is the rent?

How many orders do you get a day?

How much are you prepared to lose?

Then one day, an account with no location listed joined the livestream.

The owner said he ran a buffet restaurant and business had been slow lately.

Liang Shouchang looked over the books for a long while.

"You get forty-six customers a day. Why are you preparing 182 dishes?"

"So customers always have something to eat."

"What about the leftovers?"

"I eat them."

"That still counts as waste."

The owner fell silent.

A few seconds later, he leaned close to the water mirror.

"Could it be..."

"That I'm a Taotie?"

From that day on, Liang Shouchang's livestream started getting stranger and stranger.

Pixiu went into business, only wanting to collect money and never issue refunds.

The Nine-Tailed Fox opened a trendy shop, drawing a crowd of a hundred thousand onlookers but making zero sales.

Bai Ze wrote a thirty-seven-page business plan but never asked whether the customers wanted it.

The Black Tortoise was convinced that a century-old shop must never change its menu.

Liang Shouchang always thought this bunch was just taking their roles a little too seriously.

Until one day, a box of chili peppers from the real world was actually delivered to Yaoyao Mountain.

Only later did he realize:

Divine beasts aren't so different from humans.

They can be impulsive and stubborn, lose money, and argue over a few coins' worth of shipping.

And the livestream room that once had barely a dozen viewers gradually became a place neither world could do business without.