Shen Shuangshuang hid in the space, controlling it to slowly exit the Marquisate and landed at the busiest intersection on the west street of the capital.
As soon as she emerged, an old man selling steamed buns blocked her path. “Young master, want some buns? Hot and fresh!”
Shen Shuangshuang patted her pocket—she only had the twenty taels of silver the Marquis of Quling had given her and a few taels of spare coins she had saved.
“Sir, how much for your buns?”
“One wen for two!”
She bought two buns and started eating while walking, growing more anxious by the minute.
Rice at the granary cost ten taels per shi, coarse cloth at the fabric shop one tael per bolt—her money was far from enough to stock up.
“I need some capital,” she thought.
Her eyes lit up—she remembered a box of modern glass cups in the space.
She had stocked them for afternoon tea; each one was crystal clear. In ancient times, such a thing would be extremely rare.
She found the most impressive-looking pawnshop, “Jubaodang,” and pushed the door open.
The shopkeeper, a goat-bearded old man, glanced at her. “Young master, pawning or redeeming?”
Shen Shuangshuang pulled two glass cups from her bosom and placed them on the counter.
The moment the cups caught the light, the shopkeeper’s eyes widened. He picked up a cup, holding it to the light for a long time. “This… this is liuli? How is it so clear?”
“Don’t worry about what it is. Just tell me how much you’ll give.” Shen Shuangshuang feigned impatience.
The shopkeeper rubbed his hands, hesitated—afraid of undervaluing them and losing them to someone else, yet also afraid of overpaying and taking a loss. Finally, he said, “Alright, one cup for fifty thousand taels, two for one hundred thousand. How about that?”
Shen Shuangshuang’s heart leapt.
She had expected only a few thousand taels at most—this was far beyond her expectations.
Feigning calm, she said, “Deal.”
Receiving the silver notes totaling one hundred thousand taels, she dashed to “Fenggu Granary” on West Street.
The plump owner was dozing at the counter. Shen Shuangshuang tapped him awake. “Sir, how much for a shi of rice?”
“Ten taels!” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “How much do you want?”
“I’ll take everything you have,” she said, slapping the silver notes on the counter. “Flour, beans, corn—everything edible, wrap it all up for me.”
The man nearly fell off his chair. “Y-you mean all of it? I have fifty shi of rice and thirty shi of flour!”
“Stop talking. Load it quickly.”
She gave the shopkeeper an address—the courtyard she had just rented, specifically for storing goods in transit.
After paying, Shen Shuangshuang went to the neighboring “Jinxiu Fabric Shop.”
The owner, a flamboyantly dressed woman, smiled as soon as she heard Shuangshuang wanted to buy everything. “Young master, which wealthy household do you manage? I have top-grade yun brocade, and fine cotton for undergarments. I can give you a discount!”
“No need. Full price. The faster you pack, the better.”
Using the same method, Shen Shuangshuang purchased all the cloth in the shop, spending thirty thousand taels.
Over the next few days, she fully entered “shopping mode.”
Groceries like oil, salt, soy sauce, pots, and pans were all purchased.
The blacksmith’s knives, hoes, sickles—all bought in dozens.
Even the pickled vegetables and cured meats sold on the street, she bought hundreds of pounds.
The one hundred thousand taels were quickly spent, so she went to another pawnshop, “Hengchang Pawn.”
This time she brought modern makeup mirrors—smooth and reflective, ten times clearer than bronze mirrors of the time.
The shopkeeper didn’t hesitate and handed her one hundred fifty thousand taels in exchange.
With money in hand, Shen Shuangshuang went even more wild.
She bought thirty carriages at the cart and carriage shop, both freight carts and sedan chairs.
She also purchased ten horses and five oxen from a ranch outside the city, storing them in the space’s pasture.
The pasture was prepared for her to experience country life, with grass and water—perfect for raising livestock.
One day, passing a “Drunken Immortal Restaurant,” the aroma inside reminded her that while the space’s instant foods were convenient, they could become tiresome in quantity.
She entered, and the manager hurried to greet her. “How many, sir?”
“I want to order hundreds of tables, all with chicken, duck, fish, and meat—make them as lavish as possible,” she said.
“But I don’t want to eat here. Deliver everything to my rented house.”
The manager’s eyes widened. “Hundreds of tables? Are you holding a wedding?”
“Don’t ask. Just tell me if you can do it.”
Shen Shuangshuang took out ten thousand taels. “This is the deposit. Pay the rest upon delivery.”
The manager nodded eagerly. “We can do it! When do you want it?”
“Start tomorrow. Deliver twenty tables a day to the house next to the Yue Lai Inn on West Street.”
She had already rented the house specifically to receive goods, so transporting directly into the space wouldn’t draw attention.
For half a month, Shen Shuangshuang, disguised as a boy, went out daily to buy supplies, while the Third Branch’s courtyard remained unusually quiet.
Shen Yaozong, except for eating and drinking, “rested” in his room, occasionally coughing to make others believe his injuries were severe.
Xiang Meimei stayed in bed, with Chun Tao serving tea and water but not daring to ask questions.
The main branch didn’t bother them—partly because the Marquis had previously scolded Lady Zhou, so she no longer dared to openly mistreat the Third Branch, and partly because Shen Jiaojiao had become infatuated with the Second Prince, leaving her no time to concern herself with Shen Shuangshuang.
One noon, Chun Tao brought in lunch, hesitating. “Miss, Cui’er from the main branch was just peeking at our courtyard.”
Shen Shuangshuang, peeling an orange for Xiang Meimei, smiled. “Let her look. We haven’t done anything shameful.”
Xiang Meimei worried. “Could Lady Zhou be trying to find trouble again?”
“Even if she does, it won’t matter.”
Shen Yaozong walked in from outside, holding a piece of paper. “I just heard from the steward—the emperor is cracking down on corruption and has already arrested three officials. Lady Zhou is currently too busy to bother with us.”
Shen Shuangshuang’s mind stirred. “Dad, could this extend to the Marquisate?”
“Hard to say,” Shen Yaozong frowned. “In the original memories, my eldest uncle Shen Yaowen works in the Ministry of Revenue, often dealing with merchants. Perhaps some of his dealings weren’t entirely clean.”
Suddenly, hoofbeats sounded outside, followed by the steward shouting, “Imperial decree! The Marquis of Quling’s household is to receive the edict!”
Their faces changed. Shen Shuangshuang quickly helped Xiang Meimei out of bed. “Mom, don’t panic. Let’s go receive the edict and see what it’s about.”
In the main hall, they saw the Marquis of Quling leading the family in kneeling. A eunuch stood in the center holding the imperial decree, his expression grim.
Shen Jiaojiao hid behind Lady Zhou, trembling.
“The Emperor commands: Shen Yaowen, heir of the Marquis of Quling, has colluded with merchants and embezzled taxes. Evidence is conclusive. Arrest him immediately! The Marquis failed in household management; his title is revoked and he is demoted to commoner! The Marquisate’s family assets are to be confiscated! By imperial order!”