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Su Qingqing handed the twenty taels of silver to Zhang Ping’an.
Zhang Ping’an stared at her blankly, unsure why this young girl was giving him so much money. “Miss, this…”
“This is compensation for your father’s medical expenses,” Su Qingqing said plainly. “Butcher Hu injured him, so he should pay for the treatment.”
From the beginning, Su Qingqing had only planned to demand compensation—she never intended to kill Hu. Taking someone’s life wasn’t something she had the right to do. That kind of punishment belonged to the county authorities.
She was a decent citizen from the 21st century—hardly the type to kill or burn things down.
“But still…” Zhang Ping’an hesitated.
Su Qingqing cut him off. “No more ‘buts.’ Don’t waste my time. I need to get home to check on my little brother.”
Seeing she was getting impatient, Zhao Cui hurried forward and accepted the silver. “Thank you, miss! Thank you! If not for you, we wouldn’t have seen even a single coin.”
Suddenly, something occurred to her. “Didn’t you want to buy some pork, miss? Take whichever piece you like—as a thank-you gift from us.”
Zhang Ping’an slapped his forehead. “Right! I completely forgot! We’ve wasted so much of your time today—please, take anything you want.”
The sun was already starting to set, and Su Qingqing didn’t want to waste more time.
She picked out:
They packed everything into a large burlap sack.
Though the couple insisted she take it for free, Su Qingqing refused. After much insistence, they finally accepted a fair amount of silver—reluctantly, with guilt written all over their faces.
In Qingyun Dynasty, one tael of silver equaled a thousand copper coins.
At the shop:
They accepted just one tael of silver, refusing to take the leftover 12 coins, but Su Qingqing insisted and paid the full amount.
Hoisting the heavy burlap sack over her shoulders, Su Qingqing made her way toward the grain store in town.
The streets were quiet—many shops had already closed.
When she reached the grain shop, the shopkeeper was just instructing his assistant to shut the doors.
Su Qingqing rushed forward with the sack. “Boss, please wait!”
The shopkeeper looked over—and saw a dusty, ragged girl carrying a huge sack.
“Shoo! Go beg somewhere else,” he waved dismissively, turning to his workers.
To be fair, Su Qingqing did look the part—her clothes were faded and patched, her hair tousled by the wind, and she was carrying a burlap sack like a beggar.
But inside the store, a gray-robed assistant suddenly lit up in recognition.
“That’s her!” he said excitedly. “Boss, that’s the girl I told you about earlier—the one who beat up Butcher Hu!”
Earlier, he had followed the curious crowd toward the pork stalls and had witnessed Su Qingqing kick Hu to the ground. Hidden among the people, he’d even quietly cheered, “Nice hit!”
Then he’d run back and told the shopkeeper everything.
At first, the shopkeeper didn’t believe him—but when other customers mentioned it too, he was stunned.
In fact, he was so impressed that he didn’t even scold his assistant for sneaking off.
That Butcher Hu often bought grain from the shop without paying. The owner had long wanted to teach him a lesson—but he was powerful, with a brother-in-law in the county office and ties to local thugs.
So the shopkeeper had always kept quiet for the sake of business.
Now, realizing he’d misjudged Su Qingqing, he rushed forward and apologized. “Miss, I’m so sorry! I completely misunderstood you.”
Su Qingqing set down her sack and said calmly, “I’m here to buy grain.”
She could tell he wasn’t malicious—he had truly mistaken her for a beggar.
Well… looking at herself, she really did resemble one.
Time to wrap up shopping and get some proper clothes—for both her and her brother.
The shopkeeper invited her in warmly. “What kind of grain would you like? I’ll give you a discount!”
Su Qingqing inspected each bin and nodded in approval. The quality was very good.
“I’ll take ten jin each of white rice, white flour, and cornmeal.”
“Coming right up, miss!” said the assistant, who even threw in a little extra in each bag.
The shopkeeper noticed but turned a blind eye.
Price list:
The shopkeeper gave her a discount of 1 coin per jin.
Total should’ve been 360 coins—but Su Qingqing paid the full amount anyway.
As with the meat, she asked for a burlap sack and packed her purchases.
The owner even offered to lend her a horse-drawn cart to transport everything, but she politely declined.
Now carrying two full sacks, Su Qingqing headed toward the town’s clothing shop.
But it had already closed.
Left with no choice, she turned toward home.
The sun was half-set, the sky stained red by evening clouds.
Glancing at the two sacks, Su Qingqing didn’t feel like walking all the way back.
So she went to the local cart rental—and spotted the same old man who had driven her and her brother home the day before.
She approached him as he napped beside his donkey cart. “Grandpa, is your cart available?”
The old man snapped awake. “Of course! Where to, young lady?”
“Jixiang Village.”
The old man didn’t seem to recognize her this time. His hair was white, his eyes cloudy, and he sat in the driver’s seat urging the donkey forward.
An hour later, they arrived in Jixiang Village.
The fare was twenty copper coins—but Su Qingqing secretly slipped him a whole tael of silver.
As soon as she got off and unloaded her things, the old man cracked his whip—and the donkey suddenly took off at surprising speed, disappearing at the village entrance.
Su Qingqing blinked. That same donkey had been dragging its feet the whole ride. Now it was running like lightning?
“Seriously… he could’ve gotten us here in half the time!”
Meanwhile, the old man muttered to himself as he bounced along, rubbing his waist:
“Aiyo, my old back… but this girl’s not bad. With this silver, I can buy some good wine tonight.”
Su Qingqing, watching the disappearing cart, couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
She had smelled a faint herbal scent on the old man both times they’d met.
She had thought maybe he was injured and using medicinal plasters—but now, she wasn’t so sure.
Rubbing her chin, she murmured, “Hmm… this old man might not be as simple as he looks.”