After dealing with Sun Cuifen, Su Qiao felt not the slightest emotional disturbance.
She closed the door, completely shutting out the noise and prying eyes from outside.
The face that had just moments ago been filled with vulnerability and helplessness had now returned to its usual calm, even carrying a hint of boredom.
To her, a doomsday leader who had established order amid hordes of zombies, an opponent of Sun Cuifen’s caliber wasn’t even worth a second thought.
Wasting emotional energy was simply a drain on her strength.
Sorry, but Su Qiao had never been one to torment herself.
With that time, she might as well make more money or enjoy this hard-won peaceful life a little more.
She walked to the window, listening as the neighbors’ hushed discussions downstairs gradually faded away. A faint smile touched the corners of her lips.
Today’s little episode had worked out perfectly.
She had established both her authority and her public image.
The image of a pitiful military wife bullied by horrible relatives and forced to fight back was enough to silence most people.
This apartment building was her first safe zone. The residents of a safe zone needed both reassurance and intimidation.
Su Qiao turned around and surveyed the “bare-walled” house.
Concrete floors, whitewashed walls, and a bare wooden bed frame.
Her consciousness sank into her spatial storage.
The next second, a thick, soft dark-gray wool carpet appeared out of thin air, precisely covering the entire living room floor and instantly blocking the chill of the concrete.
Next, two simply designed ivory fabric sofas replaced the original wooden benches, while a small walnut coffee table appeared in front of them.
The previously empty wall now held a reproduction of Van Gogh’s The Starry Night.
The tacky old newspapers covering the windows were torn down and replaced with high-quality linen curtains, softening the light streaming into the room.
In the bedroom, the hard wooden bed was also covered with a luxurious down mattress and a set of Tencel bedding. Fluffy pillows were piled together, looking so inviting that anyone would want to sink right into them.
In just a few minutes, the shabby, rundown house had magically transformed into a cozy little home that combined the style of the 1970s with modern comfort.
Su Qiao walked barefoot across the soft carpet and let out a satisfied breath.
Now this was a place fit for human beings to live in.
That evening, she took a notebook and a fountain pen from her space, sat down on the sofa, and began planning her “Road to Wealth in the Seventies.”
She had the two hundred yuan in startup capital Gu Changfeng had given her, but living off her savings was never her style.
The supplies in her space were her trump card, but they were also consumables. She needed to find a way to turn those supplies into cash as soon as possible and establish a sustainable source of income.
Reselling supplies would be the first step—and the fastest one.
Goods were extremely scarce in this era. Almost anything ordinary by modern standards could become a coveted rarity here.
But she couldn’t aim too high. She had to start with the black market, move in and out quickly, and never linger.
She wrote down her first batch of trial products:
1. Nylon stockings. In this era, they were an absolute luxury. A single pair could drive women wild.
2. Dacron fabric. Bright colors and fashionable styles would make it a highly sought-after commodity.
3. Shanghai-brand watches. She had several boxes in her space, all brand-new stock she had scavenged from a watch collector before the apocalypse. These would have no trouble finding buyers. They were symbols of status and prestige.
4. Moutai liquor. She had an entire warehouse stocked with various famous liquors, including Moutai from different vintages. This would be the best medium for opening doors into higher-level social circles.
After finishing the list, Su Qiao began preparing for tomorrow’s operation.
She absolutely could not use her current face and appearance at the black market. Being too conspicuous would be asking for trouble.
She rummaged through her space and pulled out a set of faded, patched-up old clothes.
Then she took out the professional cosmetics she had used for disguises and reconnaissance during the apocalypse and began working in front of the mirror.
She used a slightly darker foundation to give herself a sallow, haggard complexion, added faint shadows beneath her eyes, and made her lips look pale and bloodless.
She then casually tied her long, glossy black hair into two braids and wrapped them in a headscarf.
The dazzlingly beautiful Su Qiao disappeared from the mirror, replaced by an ordinary rural woman with a sallow complexion, timid eyes, and a hint of greed.
“Good grief. I’m basically cosplaying as a country girl this time.”
She grinned at her reflection, revealing a row of pearly white teeth that instantly ruined the timid impression.
Everything was ready.
She lay on the impossibly soft bed, resting her hands behind her head, and began thinking about another person.
Gu Changfeng.
This man was an unexpected bonus in this era.
A senior regiment-level military officer was like a powerful protective shield, allowing her to avoid plenty of unnecessary trouble.
For example, if not for the powerful protection afforded by a military marriage today, Sun Cuifen and her group would never have retreated so easily.
This feeling of being protected by someone else…
It was novel.
In the apocalypse, she had been everyone’s shelter, the only person they could rely on in that wasteland.
She had never imagined that one day she, too, would stand beneath someone else’s wings.
And surprisingly, she didn’t dislike the feeling.
“Mutually uninvolved, huh…” Su Qiao murmured softly, but another image involuntarily surfaced in her mind.
That man who had gone red from his ears all the way down his neck beneath the moonlight simply because she had been wearing a silk nightgown.
The way he wanted to look but didn’t dare, his body tense as a stone, was far more amusing than the vigorous way he had behaved in bed.
His composure and self-restraint were like a hard shell wrapped in candy paper.
And Su Qiao loved unwrapping candy.
Her fingertips unconsciously traced across the soft bedding, and the smile in her eyes grew deeper.
“I’m afraid… that won’t be up to you.”
Just as she was about to turn off the light and go to sleep, an extremely faint, furtive sound of footsteps came from outside the door.
In the silence of the night, the sound was particularly clear.
It stopped right outside her door.