The Courier Station: My Warehouse Connects to the Modern World

Three post horses died overnight, the military report was delayed, and the station inspector slammed the table demanding sixty taels—or exile three thousand li away. Lu Chuan woke up, grabbed a handful of moldy beans, and immediately exposed the inspector's cousin. He was the owner of a modern express delivery station, transmigrated into a minor courier station chief at Black Stone Station in the northern borderlands. On the north wall of the station's back warehouse, there was a rolling shutter door that only he could open, and behind it was his own shop. Every night at midnight, the door opened for a quarter of an hour. For every li the station delivered, one li of purchasing credit was recorded. White sugar exchanged for silver, headlamps for snowy nights, firecrackers to defeat mountain bandits. The farther the deliveries, the more goods appeared on the other side. But on the shelf was a package with his name on it, containing his own handwriting: "Don't trust the one in crimson robes." This note had appeared ten years ago. — Description from novelcodex.orgFull novel: The Courier Station: My Warehouse Connects to the Modern World — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠