With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

Jiang Zhiyu extended her spiritual power to sense the surroundings. It was almost time to rest, and she figured no one would be coming over tonight. She closed her eyes, focused her mind, and began to organize the surging power within her body, while also fully absorbing the original owner's memories.

Jiang Zhiyu focused her senses and confirmed that all three elemental abilities were still present. However, her body was too frail to withstand the strain of using her powers extensively.

She first tried channeling a wisp of her wood-elemental power, the gentle green energy slowly flowing from her fingertips throughout her body. A warmth spread through her, and she instantly regained some strength. She couldn't rush things now; she had to take it slow!

Then, she activated a wisp of poison-based ability. A pale purple mist flashed and disappeared at her fingertips. She just needed to confirm that the poison ability was still there; this body couldn't withstand any more disturbance right now.

Finally, there was the spatial ability. With a thought, Jiang Zhiyu's consciousness entered the space. The space was originally nearly a thousand square meters, and it still contained the last supplies, weapons, and various ability crystals of the apocalypse. Everything inside was still there.

Currently, her three superpowers are her biggest trump card. With these powers, even in 1975 and on this smuggling fishing boat, she has the confidence to protect herself.

With her strength restored, she slowly stood up, dusted herself off, and, by the dim light, began to carefully examine the densely packed wooden crates in the hold.

These wooden boxes varied in size and material. Some were ordinary pine boxes containing cloth and machine parts, common smuggled goods; others were heavy camphor or mahogany boxes with seals on the outside and different surnames written on them.

Of course, we'd start with the wealthy Li family. Jiang Zhiyu opened the mahogany chest in front of her; rows and rows of large and small golden croakers were neatly arranged, gleaming with gold. She opened four or five chests in succession, all filled with gold. Then came bundles and bundles of large black 10s...

"It's actually a Black Ten!" She remembered that this one was urgently recalled and destroyed in history! How come there are so many here? Before the apocalypse, a good one could sell for tens or hundreds of thousands.

Next came two boxes of US dollars. In addition, there were several boxes of precious medicinal herbs, including century-old ginseng, lingzhi mushrooms, and deer antlers, carefully packed in brocade boxes. Even through the boxes, one could smell the faint fragrance of the herbs.

In the wooden box beside it were various antiques and paintings. The works of famous calligraphers and painters were carefully rolled up and wrapped in moisture-proof oil paper. The poems and paintings from the Tang and Song dynasties, and the landscape paintings from the Ming and Qing dynasties, were all priceless treasures.

Several other boxes contained expensive furs, imported watches, pens, phonographs, and various jewelry, a dazzling array of items that filled the boxes. These were rare items that ordinary people in that era would never have seen.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at the treasures before her, her heart unmoved. In the ten years since the apocalypse, gold and silver jewels were far less useful than a piece of dry rations. She had long since lost her attachment to these material possessions. But she knew that although she couldn't take these things out in this era, it didn't mean she couldn't in the future.

With a thought, the treasures in the wooden boxes vanished silently before her eyes, then were neatly stacked in her spatial storage. She kept none of the sealed, valuable goods, storing them all inside, leaving only the empty boxes in their original places.

Jiang Zhiyu's gaze finally fell on an inconspicuous camphor wood box in the corner.

The chest wasn't sealed with a surname label, and its design wasn't particularly ornate, but the wood was of excellent quality—top-grade camphor wood—emitting a faint, pleasant fragrance. This was the dowry that the original owner's mother had hastily prepared, according to her memories.

Jiang Zhiyu walked slowly forward, gently opened the box, and a scent of sandalwood wafted out, triggering a flood of images in her mind. These were all memories of the original owner of the body.

The contents of the box were neatly arranged, each item carefully handled, showing how much the original owner's mother cherished them.

The top layer is a complete set of silver jewelry, which is the most fashionable style during the Republic of China period. Although it is not very valuable, it was my mother's dowry when she was young.

Below are several silk garments: a moon-white silk cheongsam and a soft satin cape embroidered with begonia flowers. The fabric is soft and smooth, and even after so many years, it remains intact. The stitches are fine and dense, clearly made by a famous craftsman. These are garments that only ladies from well-to-do families in that era would own.

In addition, there was a bankbook with a gold-embossed cover, as well as several land deeds and house deeds with clear handwriting. They were properties under her mother's name, which she probably secretly left for her as a backup plan.

At the very bottom, there was a small brocade box containing a jade pendant, shaped like a teardrop, with a warm and smooth texture that remained cool to the touch in summer and warm in winter. Engraved on the pendant was a small character "Su," a family heirloom. Her mother, Su Wanqing, always reminded her that it was left to her by her maternal grandfather and must never be lost.

Jiang Zhiyu was holding the jade pendant. Suddenly, a tremor ran through the space, and the jade pendant vanished from her hand.

Jiang Zhiyu was startled and was about to investigate when she was pulled into the space by a suction force.

The space had expanded more than ten times, and there was a two-story courtyard with an ancient well in the center, the water of which was slowly overflowing from the stone platform.

"Could it be the legendary sacred spring?"

Jiang Zhiyu darted forward. With a thought, a water cup appeared in her hand. After drinking the spring water, she found it sweet and refreshing, a taste she hadn't experienced in many years since the apocalypse.

A sharp pain shot through my body in an instant. A foul stench filled the air.

"This spring water really does have the effect of cleansing the marrow and tendons; the novels are absolutely true."

Jiang Zhiyu slipped into the small building and found the bathroom. She showered for more than two hours before coming out.

She stared blankly at the person in the mirror. She looked exactly like her before the apocalypse. Standing at 1.7 meters tall, slightly thin, with deep-set eyes and a high nose bridge, her somewhat youthful face was now filled with astonishment.

She turned and looked at the building in front of her. It was a traditional Beijing-style courtyard house, two stories high, symmetrical on both sides with side rooms and a connecting corridor upstairs. The courtyard was paved with blue bricks, and the main house was to the north, fully equipped. Just outside the courtyard were the supplies in her post-apocalyptic space, plus more than ten acres of black soil. It seemed she could start farming from now on.

Jiang Zhiyu left the space in high spirits, her eyes softening as she looked at the dowry. These things were not just gold and silver treasures, but also the kinship she wanted to protect for the original owner of this body.

She gently stroked each item, then put it away in her space, deliberately placing it in a separate corner, keeping it apart from the other items.

After collecting the dowry and making sure there were no traces left, she slipped into her spatial dimension. She was going to visit her dear uncle that evening.