After turning in her registration form, Wen Qiao headed straight to the supply and marketing cooperative and switched into full-on shopping mode.
She had plenty of supplies in her space, but very little that she could openly take out in this era.
As for that space—it was something from long ago.
Back in the modern world, on her sixteenth birthday, her grandmother had given her a mutton-fat jade ring, saying it had been passed down through their ancestors.
The ring was pure in color, evenly translucent, warm and delicate to the touch. Wen Qiao had fallen in love with it at first sight.
She wore it every day.
Once, while cutting fruit, she accidentally nicked her finger. A bead of blood slid down her fingertip and onto the ring.
And that triggered the legendary “space.”
The space wasn’t large—about twenty to thirty square meters. Like the ring, it was circular. Other than a small spring at the center, there was nothing inside.
It was truly empty.
Wen Qiao tested it. People could enter it, and items stored inside would stay fresh.
To her, those features were rather useless.
Her family was well-off. Although her parents were strict about her studies, they had never been stingy with money. In modern times, supplies weren’t scarce, so hoarding didn’t seem necessary.
Still, Wen Qiao stocked up on a bit of everything.
Just in case.
The chances of an apocalypse were slim.
But what if?
After all, even a magical space had appeared.
She symbolically stored a little of everything—truly just a little. The space was too small, and with so many types of items, even a bit of each quickly filled it up.
The only thing that was truly useful to her was the spiritual spring inside.
The entire spring wall was made of jade. Suspended at the center was a transparent bead, faintly shimmering with seven-colored light.
The spring water seeped naturally from the jade bead. Mist hovered above it, and the spiritual pearl sparkled crystal clear.
Out of curiosity, Wen Qiao scooped up a handful of the water. It was slightly cool upon entering her mouth, with a refreshing sweetness.
The moment it slid down her throat, she felt a warm current surge through her entire body.
It was like being cleansed by spiritual energy, washing her marrow and tendons with a mysterious power.
The sensation was too wonderful. Unable to resist, Wen Qiao took sip after sip.
Before she knew it, she had drunk the entire spring dry.
In truth, there hadn’t been much to begin with—just a shallow layer. Two cups were enough to nearly empty it.
Soon after, foul-smelling grime began oozing from her skin.
Once she washed clean and looked into the mirror, the dizzyingly beautiful woman staring back at her made her realize just what a treasure the space was.
She had already been pure and delicate in appearance, with good skin to begin with.
Now, it was as if a porcelain base had been glazed and a painter had added the final touch of crimson to her lips. She became lively and radiant, glowing with brilliance.
There was an ethereal quality to her—an almost breathtaking beauty.
Her features were the same, yet she felt like an entirely different person.
That was when Wen Qiao understood—the spiritual spring had beautifying effects.
She regretted being careless and drinking too much at once.
Fortunately, her parents were always busy. They flew all over the country year-round, hosting various dance selection competitions. The time they spent at home could be counted on one hand.
Sometimes she would only see them once every few months.
The very next day, Wen Qiao flew to Korea.
She claimed she had gone for cosmetic procedures.
Only then did the people around her stop being suspicious.
She had no choice.
She would never tell anyone about the space.
Lies were her only option.
Later, she gradually discovered that the spring water was incredibly powerful.
Not only could it enhance beauty, it could also adjust the body to its optimal condition.
Especially for healing external injuries—it worked almost instantly.
But the jade bead only secreted a limited amount of water—just a few milliliters per day. She had to save for months to fill even a small cup.
At the same time, she discovered a side effect.
Her physical condition improved—but she also became more delicate.
She had to wear the finest silk, eat the most refined grains. Her body became as sensitive as the Princess and the Pea.
Unexpectedly, the apocalypse never came.
Instead, she transmigrated into a novel—into the materially impoverished 1970s.
The space was bound to her soul, so naturally it followed her here.
When Wen Qiao first arrived, she checked immediately. The space was still there, and not a single item was missing.
It was just that many things could only be used secretly—not displayed openly.
Especially in this era where everyone was on guard, class struggle ideology ran deep, and vigilance against spies was extremely high.
She did not dare underestimate the wisdom of the masses.
Anything that didn’t belong to this era, she would absolutely never take out.
Daily necessities would have to be bought for emergencies.
She first went to the non-staple food counter on the first floor.
Various pastries, canned goods, brown sugar, white sugar, malted milk essence, milk powder, and assorted candies—she bought some of each.
These were all precious goods in this era. If she couldn’t finish them, they would still make respectable gifts.
Then she went to the daily necessities counter.
Toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, laundry powder, mosquito nets, toilet paper—she bought some of everything.
Several bulaji dresses, a pair each of slippers, sandals, white canvas shoes, and leather shoes.
Raincoat, umbrella, straw hat, matches, candles, kerosene lamp, flashlight, canvas bag, enamel basin, aluminum lunchbox, metal thermos…
Finally, she bought two suitcases—one canvas, one woven rattan.
Who knew if the educated youth dormitory had storage space? If not, she’d have to keep things in her luggage.
Wen Qiao spent all her ration coupons cleanly before leaving the cooperative.
Finding an empty corner, she put the larger items into her space and placed the smaller ones into the canvas bag she had just bought.
That evening, Shen’s mother handed her a locked metal box.
Wen Qiao opened it and saw thick stacks of cash and coupons inside.
National grain coupons, military grain coupons, cloth coupons, oil coupons, meat coupons—daily necessities—as well as various non-staple food coupons like sugar tickets, egg tickets, tofu tickets, and industrial product coupons.
There were even some overseas remittance vouchers.
The variety was impressively complete.
Wen Qiao didn’t count them. She swept everything up in one go and gave Shen’s mother a sweet smile.
“Thank you, Mom. You’re the best.”
Shen Yueru wore a fake smile, her tone dripping with sourness.
“Big Sister, Mom owed quite a few favors to exchange those tickets for you. You’d better keep them safe—don’t lose them.”
She emphasized the word lose.
Wen Qiao glanced at her. Who was she being sarcastic toward?
She was going to the countryside on behalf of the Shen family. It was only right that they prepare these things for her.
Besides, even if she lost them, the money would never truly be lost.
She had a space.
The corner of Wen Qiao’s lips curled upward as she cast her a sideways glance.
Three parts sincerity, seven parts mockery.
“Yueru, if you’re jealous, just say so. I can let you have the spot. You go to the countryside—then all this money and these coupons will be yours.”
Shen Yueru’s smile froze. She quickly explained,
“Big Sister, that’s not what I meant. I was just reminding you that these weren’t easy to get—don’t lose them.”
Wen Qiao deliberately drew out her tone and replied coolly,
“Oh. Then thank you so much. I’ll keep them safe.”
She didn’t know how Shen Yueru had managed to withhold the original host’s supplies.
But with her here now, not a single cent would be siphoned away.
Shen’s mother had originally planned to exchange some of the money and coupons for physical goods, but Wen Qiao refused.
Items bought by Shen’s mother couldn’t be openly stored in her space. She would have to carry them herself.
And she had no intention of boarding the train burdened with big and small bags.
These were all green leather trains. Even on a direct express, it would take two full days and nights to travel from the capital to Yangcheng.