Without further delay, Qianhua grabbed a burlap sack and went to the stream to collect sand and gravel.
She made several trips back and forth, eventually hauling back over a hundred jin of sand and gravel.
She carefully chose stones of roughly the same size.
After returning home, she poured all the sand onto a bamboo sieve, rinsed it thoroughly with water, then spread it out in the courtyard to dry.
Liu Shi helped by using scissors to cut open the green, thorny outer shells of the chestnuts, taking out the brown chestnut kernels inside.
“Mother, once you’ve cut open all the thorny chestnut shells, rinse the chestnuts clean and lay them out in the courtyard to dry. When the water’s gone, bring them back inside,” Qianhua instructed.
“Alright, I’ll make sure it’s all done properly,” Liu Shi replied while continuing to cut the chestnuts.
Qianhua returned to her room, tied her hair up high, and used charcoal from the stove to darken and thicken her eyebrows, disguising herself as a boy.
“Qianhua, why are you dressed like that?” Liu Shi asked, puzzled, as she snipped chestnuts.
“Mother, making sugar-roasted chestnuts requires malt sugar. We’ll also need oil paper for wrapping, a large iron spatula, a portable stove, and a weighing scale. I’m planning to go to town to buy these things. It’s more convenient to dress as a man when going out,” Qianhua explained.
In truth, she also planned to go to the county seat to survey the market, but she knew her parents wouldn’t be at ease, so she only mentioned the town.
Both parents were indeed uneasy about her going alone.
“Qianhua, I’ll go with you,” Liu Shi said anxiously. “You’re just a girl. I won’t feel at ease letting you go to town by yourself.”
Liang Er’s leg injury made it impossible for him to accompany her, so Liu Shi wanted to go instead.
“Mother, you should stay home and work,” Qianhua persuaded her. “After cutting all the chestnuts, you still need to turn over the back plot of land and plant vegetables. There’s so much work waiting for you—how could you spare the time to go to town with me?”
She didn’t want her parents treating her like a helpless child, worrying about everything she did. If that continued, she’d never be able to go out alone to do anything. She needed them to see that she could handle things on her own.
“Do you even know the way to town?” Liu Shi asked worriedly. “I’m afraid you’ll get lost—or run into danger on the road.”
“I’ve followed Father to town many times when he went to sell small game. I know the road well. It’s only four or five li away; if I walk quickly, I’ll be there in just over a quarter-hour. It’s broad daylight, and I’m dressed as a man—what danger could there be? You and Father can rest assured.”
She had inherited the original owner’s memories, so the route to town was very familiar to her.
“But before, your father always went with you,” Liu Shi said hesitantly.
“Mother, I’m already thirteen. Big Sister Da in the village is only a year older than me, and she’s already married. Don’t worry—I can manage on my own.”
In the end, Liu Shi couldn’t argue with her and reluctantly agreed, repeatedly reminding her to come home early.
Thirteen was considered nearly grown. Many village girls married at thirteen or fourteen. Qianhua herself would have been of marrying age in just a couple of years—if not for her broken engagement and damaged reputation.
Letting her go to town on her own might actually be a good thing.
Following the memories in her mind, Qianhua walked briskly and reached town in less than half an hour.
The town consisted of a single street lined with shops on both sides, most selling daily necessities like firewood, rice, oil, and salt.
There were also a few fabric shops, though it was obvious at a glance that the selection of materials and patterns was limited.
She entered a general goods shop that sold a variety of items, including salt and malt sugar. After asking about prices, she learned that malt sugar cost sixty copper coins per jin, and oil paper cost one coin for a hundred sheets.
After asking, she left without buying anything—she still planned to visit the county seat to compare prices.
The shopkeeper was extremely annoyed that she had asked so many questions and bought nothing.
She then entered a bookstore, hoping to find a historical chronicle. After searching for a long time without success, the owner finally spoke up.
“May I ask what kind of book you’re looking for, young sir? I can help you find it,” the elderly shopkeeper said from his seat at the door.
“Sir, I’m looking for a historical chronicle—something that records the situation of the entire continent.”
“My shop mainly sells beginner texts like The Analects and Three Character Classic, as well as the Four Books and Five Classics, poetry collections, and folk storybooks. I don’t carry historical chronicles. You’d probably need to go to a larger bookstore in the county seat.”
The old man was puzzled. Scholars usually read classics and poetry—who would casually read historical records?
Qianhua thanked him and left. This town’s bookstore really was too small; it seemed many things could only be bought in the county seat.
To avoid disturbing residents, the blacksmith shop was located at the very end of the street. From afar, she could already hear the rhythmic clang, clang of hammering.
She followed the sound and found a very simple workshop.
A piece of canvas was stretched taut, tied at the four corners with thick ropes to sturdy wooden posts. Beneath it stood a furnace, a bellows, an anvil, and a water trough beside the anvil.
Yet within this crude setup, under the blacksmith’s hammer, rigid iron transformed into all kinds of tools and household items.
The blacksmith was in his fifties, short in stature, with a perforated apron tied across his chest.
Seeing Qianhua enter, he stopped working and asked, “Young fellow, what kind of ironware do you need?”
“How much would it cost to make a large iron spatula—about twice the size of an ordinary cooking spatula?” Qianhua asked, gesturing with her hands.
“A regular spatula costs twenty-five copper coins. A double-sized one would be fifty,” the blacksmith replied.
He glanced at her, clearly surprised that such a skinny young man wanted such a large spatula.
“Alright, I’ll take one.”
“May I ask how much it costs to make a portable iron stove?” Qianhua continued.
“That depends on the weight. Anywhere from half a tael to two or three taels of silver,” the blacksmith answered after thinking for a moment.
“Do you have paper and brush? I’d like to design the stove myself.”
“Yes, I’ll bring them right away.”
Qianhua drew a design similar to a modern rural portable stove: three legs at the bottom, an ash tray underneath, and a wide opening in the body for feeding firewood.
“How much would it cost to make this kind of stove?” she asked, handing the drawing over.
The blacksmith studied the design with admiration. It really was convenient—lightweight and ideal for cooking while traveling.
“Young fellow, I’ll make this stove for free,” he said. “But could you give me this drawing? I’d like to make more stoves like this to sell.”
“Of course. You’re welcome to use it. When will the stove and spatula be ready? I need them urgently.”
“I can finish the spatula in one hour. The stove will take longer. Pay for the spatula, leave your name and address, and come back tomorrow morning to pick up the stove.”
“Alright. I’ll come back this afternoon for the spatula and tomorrow morning for the stove.”
Because iron sales were strictly regulated, all purchases had to be registered.
Qianhua gave her father Liang Er’s name and their home address, paid fifty copper coins for the spatula, and left the blacksmith shop.
She had originally planned to spend about half a tael of silver on a stove. Instead, she ended up paying nothing at all—trading a simple design drawing for a stove. It was an unexpected stroke of good fortune.