Speaking as an elder, Village Chief Wang expressed his concerns.

Qian Chunhua put on a respectful and attentive expression.

Seeing her attitude, the village chief was quite satisfied and continued, “But even the courier station can’t keep running on this route—how could a tea stall make money?”

To him, Qian Chunhua was just being reckless.

Qian Chunhua understood—Uncle Village Chief was worried she might lose her silver.

She smiled and replied, “Thank you for the reminder, Uncle Village Chief. I’ll reconsider it carefully. Do I need to register with the village or go to the county office if I want to open a tea stall?”

Village Chief Wang shook his head in confusion. He didn’t know and casually answered, “No need.”

In his mind, a little tea stall couldn’t make much money anyway, and there was no need for formalities.

In Huanghualing, what he said went.

Now that she had his verbal approval, Qian Chunhua felt reassured.

However, something he had said earlier troubled her: the court couldn’t even pay the soldiers. She couldn’t help but ask, “Uncle Wang, if the court can’t even issue pay, doesn’t that mean…”

Doesn’t that mean there won’t be enough people working for the government?

Wouldn’t that throw the whole society into chaos?

Her heart sank.

Min Dynasty—a fictional dynasty that never existed in real history—seemed anything but stable.

Village Chief Wang’s face darkened as he gave a veiled warning, “Gan Prefecture had a locust plague this autumn—total crop failure. Yongning Prefecture hasn’t seen rain since summer. If this continues, we won’t be able to plant in the spring.”

He stopped and looked anxiously at the sky.

Qian Chunhua now understood: Nanzhou County belonged to Yongning Prefecture.

No wonder she had seen the bottom of the mountain stream yesterday.

Gan Prefecture was right next to Yongning. If their harvest failed, grain prices here would definitely soar.

The original owner of this body had never paid attention to things beyond the village, so Qian Chunhua had to ask more, “What about other prefectures aside from Yongning and Gan?”

The village chief’s face became even more uneasy. “The other prefectures are suffering from war and rampant banditry. Your husband, Yongcai, was…”

He stopped himself.

He had unintentionally touched on a painful subject.

But Qian Chunhua wasn’t particularly bothered—after all, she wasn’t the original owner of this body.

What really worried her was the realization that this world she had crossed into was far from peaceful.

If she wanted a stable life here, it would be difficult.

She frowned. In this body, her physical strength was practically worthless.

The village chief’s family thought she was mourning Zhao Yongcai’s death, and all fell silent.

The atmosphere in the room turned heavy.

Qian Chunhua stood up to take her leave.

On the way home, she felt her joy from yesterday had been premature.

Her journey to another world had brought her into a time of natural disasters and war. It wasn’t quite the apocalypse—but close enough.

She needed to start planning ahead, to prepare for herself and the children.

But she also felt a surge of motivation.

With a whole space full of supplies, she was far better off than other villagers in Huanghualing. Happiness, after all, comes by comparison.

She had already thanked the village chief.

Now only Clan Head Zhao’s family was left.

Last night, he had at least stood on the side of fairness

…

At the Zhao household, Clan Head Zhao’s eldest daughter-in-law, Madam Cao, was feeding chickens in the courtyard.

Seeing Chunhua approach, she shouted, “Chunhua’s here!”

“Busy, Aunt Cao?” Chunhua greeted.

“Just feeding the chickens,” she replied with a smile.

“Is Second Uncle home?”

“He is—just go right in,” Madam Cao said.

Chunhua thanked her and entered the main room with Qingsong.

Clan Head Zhao had just finished eating and was wiping his mouth. “Chunhua, you’ve come.”

Qian Chunhua placed a pack of brown sugar on the table and gave her thanks.

Even little Qingsong followed her lead and bowed in gratitude.

Clan Head Zhao immediately felt very comforted.

Last night’s events, with the baby switch and Qingsong’s abuse, had stirred different opinions in the clan. Some even criticized him for not siding with Zhao Yongqiang.

But he had insisted that since they were all Zhao family children, he had to remain impartial.

He hadn’t expected or asked for thanks from Chunhua.

But her gratitude made him feel his efforts hadn’t been in vain.

Unlike Zhao Yongqiang’s family—he had helped them suppress the matter, not allowing it to be reported to the authorities—and yet they were ungrateful and complained he hadn’t done enough.

In contrast, Clan Head Zhao found Chunhua much more agreeable.

He now turned to a more caring tone. “Chunhua, what are your plans from now on?”

Qian Chunhua answered honestly, “Second Uncle, once the rooms are partitioned, I plan to send Qingsong back to school. I’ll also find some work to earn silver.”

Clan Head Zhao nodded, but he didn’t say anything.

In his heart, though, he was skeptical—finding work wasn’t that easy.

Hadn’t he seen how many strong young men in Huanghualing sat idle at home, unable to earn even a few coins?

He offered a suggestion: “You didn’t get any land in the separation. If you still have some silver, why not buy a few mu of farmland?”

It was a good idea—if the Min Dynasty were enjoying peace and prosperity. But with drought, famine, locusts, and conflict, Qian Chunhua didn’t dare invest in fixed assets.

Still, she smiled and accepted the suggestion politely, saying she’d consider it.

After chatting for a while longer, she took her leave.

..

Back inside, Madam Cao opened the gift Qian Chunhua had brought—and gasped, “Brown sugar! No need to buy it for Nizi’s postpartum month. I’ll use this for gifting after she gives birth!”

Nizi was her daughter, married in a neighboring village and about to give birth.

Hearing this, Clan Head Zhao leaned over for a look.

He hadn’t expected Chunhua’s gift of thanks to be so generous.

He’d thought it would just be some millet or dark flour.

..

Meanwhile, unaware of their surprise, Qian Chunhua was heading home with Qingsong.

She had plenty of brown sugar in her space.

When stockpiling supplies back then, she’d bought white sugar, brown sugar, and salt by the ton from wholesalers.

Back home, she washed up with the kids, then brought Zhao Qingfeng and Zhao Xiaoling back to their place.

That night, they all slept in the room next door. The bed was small, but cozy enough to squeeze in together.

She checked Qingsong’s wounds and reapplied medicine.

The cuts had started scabbing—kids really did heal fast.

Even the frostbite on his feet had stopped oozing. She applied more ointment.

But all three children, including the original host, had dry, flaky skin on their faces and hands.

Fortunately, when she was hoarding supplies, she’d stocked up on a lot of baby cream.

She hadn’t bought cosmetics, thinking she was too old to bother, but she had loaded up on face wash and baby lotion.

Who knew it would come in so handy?

She applied baby cream to each child’s face and hands.

The kids kept sniffing their hands.

“Mom, it smells so good!”

“Yes,” Chunhua replied, “Mom put on the good-smelling cream for you.”

She remembered calling baby lotion “good-smelling” when she was little too.

In just two days, the kids already looked healthier, their cheeks rosier.

Especially Qingsong—she might be imagining it, but his face seemed to have filled out a bit.

Everything was slowly turning for the better—especially for the three children.