The grain shop was already surrounded by a dense crowd.

From a distance, Qian Chunhua could see that it was impossible to squeeze her way in.

Before she could even try, constables from the county yamen arrived, shouting, “Make way! Make way!”

They drove the crowd away from the grain shop and posted a notice on the front door.

A voice rang out—it was a literate scholar reading the announcement aloud. But the noise was too loud, and Qian Chunhua couldn’t hear clearly.

“What? Grain purchasing restrictions?” a middle-aged man beside the scholar shouted. “You need household registration to buy, and each person can only purchase ten jin of grain!”

That line, Qian Chunhua heard clearly.

It was expected—such a frenzied buying spree couldn’t go unchecked, unless even the county magistrate had fled.

Another voice followed: “This is great! They’re also putting a cap on prices. White rice: 25 wen per jin, millet: 18 wen, corn and sorghum: 13 wen, white flour: 25 wen, black flour: 13 wen.”

These prices were only three to five wen higher than yesterday.

The magistrate of Nanzhou County seemed like a good official. Qian Chunhua felt a newfound respect for this unseen parent-like figure of the people.

The constables began maintaining order, asking everyone to line up in two queues. Those without household registration documents were told to go home and get them, and the crowd immediately thinned by half.

Qian Chunhua took one look but didn’t join the line.

There wasn’t much silver left in her space—only 230 taels originally, and after recent spending, only 218 taels remained.

Since she already had grain stored in her space, she would avoid spending silver if she could help it.

After leaving the grain shop, Qian Chunhua headed to a bookstore. With the three children starting school the next day, she needed to prepare books, writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

The shop assistant was polite and didn’t look down on her shabby appearance.

Although Qian Chunhua had bought some fabric and cotton for new clothes, she hadn’t had time to make them yet, and was still wearing her patched jacket.

“Excuse me, do you have Three Character Classic, Hundred Family Surnames, and Thousand Character Essay?” Qian Chunhua could read, but the original owner of the body could not.

To avoid being recognized by someone familiar, she pretended to be illiterate and asked the assistant directly.

The young assistant was surprised but quickly composed himself. “Yes, yes, madam. Let me show you.”

He led the way, wondering silently at how appearances could be deceiving.

This plainly dressed woman, in clothes covered with patches, was actually here to buy children’s primer books?

When he handed her the three books, Qian Chunhua flipped through them.

The beginning lines of the Three Character Classic were familiar, though the traditional characters of this era made her guess a little.

“How much is each book?” she asked after confirming these were what she needed.

These were the books Master Qian had told her to prepare, to be used starting tomorrow.

The assistant hesitated slightly—people like her usually balked at the price. “One tael of silver per book,” he said quietly, bracing for a scolding.

But Qian Chunhua wasn’t surprised.

She had already expected the price and said directly, “I’ll take three sets.”

The assistant was stunned. “H-how many? Three sets? That’s nine books?”

She nodded. “Yes, one of each—three kinds, three sets, nine books.”

He couldn’t believe she was serious. “Madam, are you sure? That’s nine taels of silver?”

Qian Chunhua smiled, understanding what he was thinking. Since he had treated her respectfully, she pulled out the silver.

“Here, ten taels.”

When the assistant felt the weight of the silver in his hand, he finally believed she wasn’t just toying with him.

Still, it baffled him—how could someone dressed so poorly be willing to spend nine taels of silver on children’s books?

Were rich people now amusing themselves by dressing in rags to tease shop assistants?

Puzzled, he nonetheless quickly fetched the books.

After purchasing the books, Qian Chunhua also bought some lower-quality, inexpensive brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

Since the children were beginners, she didn’t mind using cheap materials that could be wasted without regret.

The total cost was ten taels and twenty-three wen. The assistant even kindly asked the shopkeeper to waive the change.

Once she paid, Qian Chunhua carried her purchases out of the bookstore.

When she turned a corner, she placed the books and supplies into her basket and, using it as cover, slipped everything into her spatial storage.

Next, she went to a general store to buy fifty burlap sacks for storing grain. The rice and flour in her space were from the modern era and didn’t match the packaging used in this time.

Each sack cost ten wen—totaling 500 wen.

As she paid, her heart ached a little. Fortunately, the sacks could be reused.

With everything she needed either bought or stored in her space, Qian Chunhua left the county town.

Thankfully, she hadn’t encountered any villagers from Huanghualing along the way. Perhaps they had ignored Village Chief Wang’s warning or had just taken a different route.

Either way, it was for the best—she didn’t want them to see her.

Near the village entrance, Qian Chunhua ducked into a small grove and retrieved a wheelbarrow from her space.

She poured out 200 jin of rice—each sack held exactly 100 jin. These were for her mother and brother.

Then she added another 200 jin of flour—400 jin of grain in total, packed into four large sacks.

She also cut a piece of pork rib from her space, about five jin in weight.

Straining slightly, she pushed the loaded wheelbarrow out from the grove onto the main road.

With over 400 jin of grain, pushing the cart was no easy task.

The ease she had felt earlier was gone.

Thank goodness I have the space, Qian Chunhua thought. If I had to push all this from the county town, I’d be dead from exhaustion.

At the village entrance, Qian’s mother was already craning her neck, watching the road.

The moment she spotted Qian Chunhua, she rushed over.

“You bought so much?” she exclaimed, quickly taking hold of the wheelbarrow, insisting on pushing it herself.

Qian Chunhua had no choice but to help from the side. With the two of them working together, it was much easier.

Panting, she explained, “Mom, the county grain shop has already imposed purchase limits. I figured I should buy as much as I could while I still could.”

Qian’s mother nodded.

Her daughter’s family had just split off from the main household and had no grain of their own.

Four hundred jin of grain might seem like a lot, but for a family of four—eaten frugally with some help from her own household—it could last an entire year.

The two of them pushed the cart toward the Qian home.

As they passed under the old locust tree, gossiping villagers spotted the cart—Li Cuihong’s eyes went red with envy.

That wasteful wench Qian Chunhua had spent money again!

But Qian Chunhua ignored Li Cuihong and her crowd.

The people who were close to her were also the ones mocking her for stockpiling grain—they didn’t believe a word Village Chief Wang had said and now laughed at the so-called cowards who were buying up supplies.