Chapter 48: Asking Without Buying

In truth, many things could be purchased within Wenyao’s space, often of far superior quality than what was currently available. She recalled how the protagonist in the book, eager to make money, would simply take items from her space and sell them. A single bottle of perfume fetched tens of thousands of taels, and even a certain miraculous floral water, which cost less than a coin for a bottle and included shipping, was repackaged and sold for ten or twenty taels each—utterly outrageous.

Thinking of others who could so easily earn hundreds, thousands, or tens of thousands of achievement points, all because they could directly purchase stock, Wenyao felt nothing but frustration. As for herself? She could only grind out a point or two at a time, scraping by. Fuming, she took a bite of the sesame cake in her hand.

It tasted quite good.

After wandering for a while, Wenyao realized just how expensive everything was. The ten taels of silver she held would barely suffice to buy a few sets of winter clothes—each set cost about a tael. For her family of four, the children’s clothes were cheaper, half price.

After much deliberation, she bought four sets of the thinnest cotton jackets, suitable for spring and autumn, priced at less than half the cost of winter wear. The shop assistant seemed hesitant, but ultimately sold them to her.

Perhaps he was worried her family would freeze to death this winter?

Wenyao had no such concerns. She already had a plan: though the clothes of this era were crafted well, and her predecessor was skilled at embroidery, she herself was not. In her previous life, her hands could turn food into art, but sewing? Never.

Thus, the dry cleaner’s aunt at her apartment complex had always been on good terms with her, as Wenyao often sought her help.

She decided she would buy some outer garments for appearances, wearing them on the outside. As for what was underneath, she would purchase simple styles or vintage down jackets from her space, layering them beneath the outerwear for warmth and inconspicuousness.

But when she checked the price of down jackets—

Of course, as expensive as ever.

Fortunately, she now had something to earn achievement points with.

Tomorrow, she would cook something delicious and bring it to the Hall of Benevolence, then ask Wenjun to introduce her to the various medicinal herbs. She’d slip a tiny bit of each into her space—no loss for the Hall, yet she could earn some achievement points.

After all, there was no rule about how much was needed to earn points. Even the tiniest scrap counted as a medicinal herb, didn’t it?

If her space dared to say otherwise, she’d give it a good talking-to tomorrow.

Carrying the clothing, Wenyao found a quiet spot and surreptitiously tossed them into her space before leisurely making her way to the study.

Upon entering, her attention was immediately drawn to the cabinet filled with all sorts of exquisite writing implements. It was said the ancients had skillful hands, and indeed, these crafts far surpassed any modern industrial production line.

The shop assistant noticed the young girl wandering in, glancing around with wide-eyed wonder, occasionally whispering an astonished “wow.” He eyed her attire, curled his lips in disdain, and asked with a chilly tone, “What are you looking to buy?”

Wenyao caught the contempt in his words. What would one buy here, after all? Surely not groceries.

“How much is this set of writing implements?” Wenyao asked, suddenly mischievous.

Seeing which set she indicated, the assistant’s expression soured. It was the highest set on the cabinet—the most expensive in the shop.

“Do you really think you can afford it?” he sneered openly, clearly disgusted. Raggedly dressed, yet aiming for the finest set—she was utterly ignorant of her place.

Wenyao smiled serenely, her demeanor calm and unflustered, quite unlike a rustic girl. She countered, “Since you display these items here, surely you intend to sell them. Whether I can afford them is my concern; quoting the price is yours.”

The assistant was momentarily stunned, uncertain how to respond. Observing the girl’s bearing, she hardly seemed like a country bumpkin—perhaps a young lady disguised, sent to test him?

With this thought, his gaze grew more inquisitive.

Wenyao remained patient under his scrutiny—if need be, she could simply buy from her space for Daitou. Hmph.

After a moment, the assistant became more polite, saying, “This is our finest set of writing implements, priced at one hundred and fifty taels of silver.”

Regardless of her origins, caution was wise; offending the wrong person could bring trouble from the manager.

One hundred and fifty taels—how long would her family of three need to save to buy Daitou such a set?

Wenyao nodded coolly after hearing the price, then pointed to the bottom shelf, where many sets were piled. “And these?”

“These are cheap—just two taels for a set,” the assistant replied. Ordinary families bought these most often; they weren’t refined, but were affordable and durable.

Wenyao considered her modest savings and sighed inwardly. “What about paper? How is it priced here?”

The assistant introduced several types and quoted prices. Paper wasn’t so expensive—dozens, hundreds, or even several hundred coins per bundle. She felt it; Daitou was just beginning, and didn’t need the finest paper, mostly for practicing calligraphy. “Is there anything cheaper?”

The assistant nearly resorted to sarcasm again, but restrained himself, pointing to a stack of slightly yellowed paper in the corner. “These are discolored, so a bundle is just ten coins.”

Ten coins—a price Wenyao could accept. The paper was merely a bit yellowed, not affecting writing at all.

She must save where she could, and spend where she must—such was poverty.

Having made her selection, Wenyao pointed to the cheap writing set and the stack of paper. “I’ll take these: one set of writing implements, two bundles of paper.”

The assistant nearly choked. After all that, she was just another poor country girl. Still, a sale was a sale; at least the manager wouldn’t scold him.

He grudgingly cut the paper, tied it with string, wrapped the writing set, and rather unhappily held out his hand. “Two taels and twenty coins, total.”

Wenyao counted out the money and handed it over. He tossed it in the cash box, unconcerned whether she could carry so much paper, not bothering to see her out, and retreated behind the counter.

Wenyao hefted the bundles; manageable, just barely. Once she left the shop and was out of sight, she could simply store everything in her space.

The assistant watched her struggle out the door, muttering, “Poor folk want to study? Hah.”

Luckily, there were few people on the street by the study. Wenyao found a secluded spot outside, and immediately stashed the paper in her space—her weak body truly needed more exercise.

With everything done, she cradled her new writing set and strolled on to her next destination: the market.