“Where should we go first?”  

Gazing at the shabby, rundown little town before her, Qin Tianru blinked her eyes in bewilderment.  

This was the county town? It felt even less developed than the small town she came from.  

Then it occurred to her that this was still the early 1950s. Given the circumstances, it made sense—the country had only been established a few years ago, and much of the infrastructure hadn’t even begun construction yet.  

On the way here, she had already learned about the historical context of this world, so she was no longer completely in the dark.  

This world bore some resemblance to the China her mother had originally lived in. She recognized certain events, but some key figures were entirely different, as if history had diverged at a certain point, branching into two parallel timelines.  

In a way, it felt like an alternate reality.  

But this realization put her at ease. As long as it wasn’t the exact historical world her mother came from, she wouldn’t have to constantly restrain herself, worrying about the consequences of every little action.  

What if the tiny flap of her butterfly wings somehow erased her dear mother from existence?  

Now that she had confirmed this was a different timeline, she could relax.  

From now on, she’d just follow her partner’s lead. After all, this was his territory—he’d take care of everything, and she could happily continue her laid-back, carefree life.  

“Let’s head to the train station first.”  

Qi Han’s memories of this county town were a bit hazy. Too much time had passed, leaving him with only a general impression.  

In this era, the most common modes of transportation were walking or ox-drawn carts. Private cars were unheard of, and even long-distance buses weren’t widely available yet.  

Traveling was a challenge!  

This was why many people lived their entire lives without ever leaving their hometowns. The roads were poor, the distances vast, and if anything happened along the way, there was no one to turn to for help.  

The terrible road conditions meant that even short trips took forever. Traveling between provincial capitals was daunting enough, but even journeys within the same province were exhausting.  

The only viable option was the slow, green trains. But the cost of a ticket was beyond what most people could afford—a ticket priced at over ten yuan was enough to support a rural family for several months.  

So most people never ventured far from home, spending their entire lives within the confines of their small villages.  

Just getting from the county town to the provincial capital by train took thirty hours. That alone showed how arduous the journey was.  

Fortunately, Rong County was relatively well-off—it was one of the few county towns in the province with its own train station.  

“Okay.” Qin Tianru had no objections. She wasn’t familiar with the area anyway.  

…

Half an hour later, Qi Han bought two train tickets to the provincial capital.  

As for the money?  

Qin Tianru had provided a small gold ring to exchange for cash. The area around the train station was a bustling, chaotic place, teeming with black-market dealers and hustlers.  

With his experience from two lifetimes, Qi Han was well-versed in these underground dealings. He quickly found a middleman and traded the gold ring for eighty yuan.  

The ring wasn’t particularly valuable—it was thin, with no intricate design, so it couldn’t fetch a high price.  

Qin Tianru’s storage space had a dedicated compartment for gold, silver, and jewelry. She had plenty of similar pieces, all part of the dowry her mother had given her.  

At first, she wanted to offer a thicker gold ring, but Qi Han refused.  

He wasn’t broke. As long as they had enough for the train tickets home, that was enough. Once they returned, would they ever lack money?  

There was no need to sell gold at a loss. It was better to keep it—its value would only appreciate over time.