Song Suisui’s meal was quickly ready. She went to pick it up and then dug in heartily.  

Although she had brought some snacks with her, she hadn’t had much of an appetite on the train—even in the sleeper car.  

Right now, handsome men could just step aside!  

If you’re not enthusiastic about eating, there’s something wrong with your mindset!  

Besides, in her eyes, handsome men were only for admiring from afar—getting close to them would bring nothing but trouble!  

Qin Mulin had initially noticed Song Suisui’s brief moment of awe at his looks and assumed she was just another infatuated woman like those back in his compound.  

But watching the way she devoured her food, he realized he might have been mistaken.  

His meal was about the same as Song Suisui’s. She ate with such gusto that her cheeks puffed out like a little squirrel’s, looking quite adorable.  

It even made Qin Mulin’s own appetite improve a bit.  

In this era, the portions at state-run restaurants were generous and substantial. Song Suisui couldn’t finish hers, so she pretended to pull out an aluminum lunchbox from her satchel—though it was actually from her space—and packed up the leftovers to take with her.  

She couldn’t bear to waste food, and neither did the times allow it.  

Once she was full and satisfied, Song Suisui simply took her lunchbox and headed back to the guesthouse.  

As for Qin Mulin and his good looks? She’d admired them enough—no need to linger!  

Watching her leave just like that, Qin Mulin couldn’t help but laugh.  

This might be the first time his looks had ever failed to make an impression.  

Though Qin Mulin’s appearance didn’t quite fit the era’s popular preference for square-jawed, thick-browed, big-eyed men, no one could honestly call him ugly.  

It was just a matter of differing beauty standards across times.  

Once Song Suisui returned to the guesthouse, she promptly forgot about him.  

Why waste brain cells remembering someone she’d never see again?  

The guesthouse didn’t provide bathing facilities—if she wanted a proper wash, she’d have to go to a public bathhouse.  

Unaccustomed to that, Song Suisui settled for asking the front desk sister for two thermoses of hot water and made do with a quick rinse.  

…  

March in the capital was much colder than in the more southern Xinghai City.  

Song Suisui wore a black sweater under a blue worker-style jacket, paired with black pants. She’d also pinned her hair up.  

Dressed like this, she looked a bit more mature.  

She walked to the bus stop, waited a while, and then boarded a bus.  

The night before, she’d already asked the front desk sister—this bus went straight to the Capital Steel Factory.

Upon arriving at the steel factory, she presented her letter of introduction to the security guard and was quickly let in.  

Of course, the factory wouldn’t release the goods to her immediately, so after some formalities, Song Suisui was given a pickup location.  

Once she left the factory, she went to a nearby post office to call her own workplace and arrange for empty containers to be sent for transporting the goods.  

The work wasn’t difficult, and Song Suisui finished it quickly. The steel factory staff didn’t give her any trouble either.  

Her first business trip had gone smoothly. She wouldn’t need to accompany the shipment back since it would be transported by freight train.  

But she still had two days to spend in the capital—she needed to oversee the loading of the goods and then report to Director Zhang.  

With two free days on her hands, Song Suisui figured, Since I’m already here, I might as well explore the capital properly! 

And if she could pick up some treasures along the way, even better!  

In fact, if possible, she would’ve loved to buy a siheyuan (courtyard house).  

In her original time, those things were selling for hundreds of millions.  

But she wasn’t sure whether property transactions were even allowed right now, so she dismissed the thought.  

Besides, she didn’t actually have enough money to buy one anyway.  

If she were to buy a siheyuan, it’d have to be a big one—close to the Forbidden City—to be truly valuable.  

But dazayuan (shared courtyard houses) were crowded, and reclaiming ownership would be a hassle, so she decided not to bother.  

After leaving the steel factory, Song Suisui didn’t hurry back to the guesthouse. Instead, she wandered around the capital.  

At the Capital Department Store, she wanted to buy everything—no surprise, the goods here were better than those in Xinghai City.  

With money and ration coupons in hand, Song Suisui happily embarked on a shopping spree.  

By the time she left the department store, she was carrying quite a few purchases.  

Finding a quiet corner, she stashed everything into her storage ring.  

Then she headed straight for the Friendship Store!  

Hehe, yesterday’s “blind box” had rewarded her with plenty of foreign exchange certificates—and even an entry permit for the Friendship Store.  

In this era, the Friendship Store was usually reserved for foreigners. Ordinary people needed special approval to enter.  

And as luck would have it, Song Suisui had just pulled that very item from yesterday’s blind box.  

This made her suspect that Little Lazy Fish (her system) had pulled some strings for her.  

Her system was a bit of a slacker—uninterested in tasks but occasionally willing to bend the rules in Song Suisui’s favor.  

She now felt deeply apologetic for her initial disdain toward Little Lazy Fish. The system was amazing—far from useless!  

Little Lazy Fish is incredibly helpful—I was just too blind to see it!!! 

Hearing Song Suisui’s sudden burst of flattery, the Little Lazy Fish couldn’t help but do a little flip in satisfaction.

Song Suisui smoothly entered the Friendship Store. In this era, all the best domestic goods were probably concentrated here.  

Not only did the store carry imported products, but it also stocked export-quality items—all meant to earn foreign exchange.  

She wasn’t particularly interested in big-ticket appliances, but jewelry, decorative screens, and high-end fashion caught her eye.  

After all, what woman doesn’t love looking stylish?  

The jewelry in the Friendship Store was authentic, especially the jade.  

Song Suisui spotted an emerald-green jade bangle priced at just over a hundred yuan. A bottle of Moutai was only ten yuan…  

Faced with such an abundance of goods, Song Suisui happily dove into another shopping spree.  

Jewelry? Buy! 

Imported chocolates? Buy!  

Skincare products? Buy!  

Antique porcelain? Bought! 

By the time she was done, she had spent all the foreign exchange certificates she’d gotten from the blind box.  

But she was thoroughly satisfied with her haul.  

Since she’d spent so much, Song Suisui decided she’d hit the black market tomorrow to make some quick cash.  

So she started mentally nagging Little Lazy Fish:  

“Hey, Lazy Fish! Tomorrow, hook me up with 5,000 jin of rice, twenty pigs, and some ‘Three Turns and One Sound’ items…”  

Lazy Fish System: …I’m not a wish-granting genie!  

Wait—had Song Suisui even found the black market yet, after just one day in the capital?  

Hehe, turns out her luck was pretty good. While wandering earlier, she had spotted a black market and planned to check it out tomorrow.  

That night, she opened her blind boxes and stared at the contents in deep thought.  

None of the items she’d asked for—rice, pigs, or “Three Turns and One Sound” goods—were there.  

Instead, the three boxes yielded:  

– Five lingzhi mushrooms  

– Five 100-year-old ginseng roots 

– One jin (500g) of cordyceps  

Though she didn’t get what she wanted, Song Suisui was still pleased.  

Ginseng and lingzhi weren’t cheap either—especially century-old ginseng.  

As for the cordyceps, she wasn’t sure about their value in this era, so she decided to keep them for now.  

She also wouldn’t sell all the ginseng and lingzhi—these were life-saving treasures, so she had to save some for herself.  

Her plan was to sell two ginseng roots and two lingzhi mushrooms.  

After all, selling too much at once would draw unwanted attention.  

Besides, the items from the blind boxes were top-tier quality—she’d feel bad parting with all of them.  

Maybe I should wait and see what tomorrow’s blind boxes bring before deciding whether to sell the herbs?

(Note: If there are any inaccuracies in pricing, please treat this as an alternate universe—don’t take it as a strict reflection of 1970s prices!)