Chapter 48: Just Asking, Not Buying
In truth, most of the things Wen Yao needed could be bought from her space—and not only that, the quality was often much better than what was being sold in the current era.
She remembered how in the original novel, the female lead made her fortune by selling items from her space. A single bottle of perfume sold for tens of thousands of taels. Even a bottle of that 9.9-yuan floral water with free shipping had been repackaged and sold for a dozen or twenty taels per tiny bottle. Completely absurd.
And with every sale, she gained hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of achievement points, allowing her to restock instantly.
But Wen Yao? She had to grind out one or two points at a time, bitterly scraping by. She angrily bit into the sesame flatbread in her hand.
Still pretty tasty, though.
After a round of window-shopping, Wen Yao came to one conclusion—everything was expensive. The ten or so taels of silver she had? Just buying a few sets of winter clothes would eat up half of it. One tael per set of winter wear, and there were four of them in the family.
Da Tou was still small, so his clothes were cheaper—half price.
After some serious internal struggle, Wen Yao bought four sets of the thinnest cotton jackets—good for spring and autumn—each costing less than half the price of a full winter set. The shop assistant eyed her with a look like he wanted to say something but held back. In the end, he still sold her the clothes.
Maybe he was worried the whole family would freeze to death this winter?
Wen Yao wasn’t the least bit worried. She already had a plan. The clothes in this era, though well-made, weren’t exactly warm. The original owner had known how to sew, with impressive embroidery skills too—but Wen Yao didn’t. In her past life, she could create culinary miracles, but sewing and mending? Nope, not in her skill set.
Which was why she’d had such a good relationship with the auntie who ran the dry cleaner’s at the entrance to her neighborhood—she was always bringing her stuff there to be fixed.
So her decision was this: buy a few decent outer garments to keep up appearances, then wear simple or old-school down jackets from her space underneath. Layered up with a few coats, they’d be warm and wouldn’t look out of place.
But then she saw the price of down jackets.
Heh. Figures. Same as in her past life—dead expensive.
Good thing she now had a way to earn achievement points.
Heh heh. Tomorrow she’d bring some tasty treats to Jishi Hall, then ask Wen Jun to walk her through the herbs—she’d sneak tiny shavings of each into her space. The clinic wouldn’t lose anything, and she’d rack up points.
There were no rules on how much of something was needed to count as “collected.” Even the tiniest sliver still counted as a medicinal herb, right?
If the system dared say otherwise, she’d give it a good whack.
After hiding the clothes away in her space in a secluded alley, Wen Yao wandered over to the stationery shop.
As soon as she stepped inside, her eyes were drawn to the various brushes, inks, paper, and inkstones neatly displayed on the shelves.
They always said the ancients were skilled with their hands—this craftsmanship was incredible. Nothing like the mass-produced goods of her previous life.
The shop assistant spotted her—a little girl, clearly from a humble background—wandering in wide-eyed wonder, muttering little “wows” every now and then.
He sized up her shabby clothes, curled his lip, and asked coldly, “What do you want?”
Wen Yao caught the disdain in his two-word question. What else could someone want in a stationery shop? Veggies?
She decided to play a little prank. “How much for that set of scholar’s tools?”
The assistant’s face immediately darkened—she’d pointed to the most expensive set, displayed on the highest shelf. That set was the most expensive one in the store.
“How much? Can you even afford it?” the assistant sneered, making no effort to hide his contempt. Dressed in rags and asking about their top-tier items? Talk about overreaching.
Wen Yao just smiled coolly, not showing the slightest trace of the timid demeanor expected from a country girl. She calmly retorted, “Since it’s on display, it must be for sale. Whether I can afford it is my business. Telling me the price is yours.”
The shop assistant was momentarily stunned. Her composure threw him off.
She didn’t seem like a country bumpkin after all. Could she be a young lady from a wealthy family in disguise, here to test him?
His gaze grew speculative.
Wen Yao let him stare as much as he wanted. Worst case, she’d just buy something for Da Tou from her space. Hmph.
After a moment, the assistant adjusted his tone and said more politely, “That set is our finest—one hundred and fifty taels of silver.”
No matter where she came from, best to be cautious. Offending the wrong person could cost him his job.
A hundred and fifty taels. Wen Yao didn’t even want to think about how many months her family would have to save to afford that for Da Tou.
She nodded slightly, then pointed to a pile on the lowest shelf. “And these?”
“Those are cheap. That set’s only two taels,” he replied. Most customers bought these—simple but durable.
Wen Yao thought about her tiny hoard of silver and sighed internally. Then she asked, “And paper? How much is the paper here?”
The assistant introduced several kinds and quoted their prices.
Paper wasn’t as expensive—anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred wen per bundle. Wen Yao touched a few samples. Da Tou was just starting out, so no need for high-end paper. She asked, “Anything cheaper?”
The assistant almost launched into another sarcastic comment, but restrained himself. He pointed to a pile of slightly discolored paper in the corner. “Those were affected by light exposure. Ten wen per bundle—clearance.”
Ten wen was a price Wen Yao could accept. The paper was just yellowed a bit, perfectly fine for writing.
Spend where it counts, save where you can. She had no choice—she was broke.
After picking what she wanted, Wen Yao said, “I’ll take this set and two bundles of paper.”
The assistant nearly choked. So after all that, she was just buying the cheapest stuff? Still, at least she was buying something. His boss wouldn’t yell at him now.
Grudgingly, he cut the paper, tied it with string, wrapped up the stationery set, and held out his hand. “Two taels and twenty wen.”
Wen Yao counted out the money from her pouch and handed it over. The assistant sullenly tossed it into the cash box. As for whether she could carry all that paper out by herself—he couldn’t care less. He didn’t even bother to see her out and went straight back behind the counter.
Wen Yao tried lifting the bundles—barely manageable. But once she was out of sight, she could just stash them in her space.
The assistant watched her struggling to carry everything and muttered under his breath, “Trying to study with no money? Hah.”
Thankfully, the street outside the shop was nearly empty. Wen Yao ducked into an alley, stuffed the paper into her space, and sighed—this body was seriously out of shape.
Done with that, she cradled the newly bought scholar’s tools in her arms and strolled leisurely toward her next stop—the market.
