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

As Jiang Zhiyu stood in the courtyard, she pondered. She had just delivered food to her parents last night, and she didn't need to go again for the next couple of days; going too frequently would attract attention. It was always better to be cautious.

The next morning, she took two cents and went to find Captain Chen.

"Captain, I'd like to get a letter of introduction to go to the county town."

Captain Chen was feeding the livestock when he heard this. He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow: "You only worked half a day yesterday, and you're going to the county town today?" This female educated youth was not like the other educated youth who were gloomy and miserable. Instead, she lived her life as she pleased.

"Yeah, I want to go buy some things." Jiang Zhiyu said calmly, without explaining further.

Team Leader Chen didn't ask any further questions. The educated youth loved to cause trouble, and as long as they didn't get into problems, he was usually too lazy to interfere. He put down his ladle, went inside, wrote a letter of introduction, stamped it with the team's red seal, and handed it over: "Go ahead, and come back soon. Be careful. Otherwise, the higher-ups will dismiss me."

"Thank you, Captain. Understood."

Jiang Zhiyu took the letter of introduction, pushed her bicycle, and went out. Just as she reached the village entrance, she bumped into Jiang Wenwen, who was carrying a hoe. When Jiang Wenwen saw the brand-new bicycle, her eyes turned venomous as she stared intently at Jiang Zhiyu, muttering something under her breath; judging from her lip movements, she seemed to be cursing "capitalist's daughter."

Jiang Zhiyu ignored her, pushed off with her foot, and the bicycle zoomed away, leaving only a blur. Jiang Wenwen stomped her feet in anger, but could only watch helplessly as she walked away—how could she dare to follow and cause trouble? Liu Erniu's miserable state yesterday was still fresh in her mind.

After cycling all the way to town, Jiang Zhiyu found a quiet alley, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then, with a thought, stored her bicycle in her spatial storage. In this day and age, bicycles were very valuable, and she didn't feel safe leaving them anywhere else; her spatial storage was the safest place.

She walked to the town's bus station and bought a ticket to An County. The old-fashioned green bus swayed and rattled for more than an hour before finally arriving in the county seat. An County was small, with a main street running north to south, lined with supply and marketing cooperatives, state-run restaurants, and a few grocery stores. Pedestrians wore gray, blue, and black clothes, walking slowly, exuding a peaceful and down-to-earth atmosphere.

"Host, there's a black market under the big banyan tree in the west of the city," 0047's voice echoed in my mind.

Jiang Zhiyu's eyes lit up: "Let's go take a look."

She turned into a quiet alley to change her clothes, and had only taken a few steps when a man in a short-sleeved shirt stopped her. He looked her up and down and asked in a deep voice, "Buying or selling?"

"purchase."

The man held out his hand: "One cent."

Jiang Zhiyu took out a dime from her pocket and handed it over. The man took the money, stepped aside, and pointed to the alley inside: "Go in, behave yourself, don't look around."

As you walk into the alley, the space opens up dramatically. Dozens of households have set up stalls along the walls, selling all sorts of things: farm eggs in baskets lined with straw, cured pork hanging on bamboo poles, hunters displaying weasel pelts, and some people secretly selling old books and porcelain.

Jiang Zhiyu watched with great interest. Unlike other transmigrators who were in a hurry to sell their goods for money, she had enough supplies in her spatial storage to squander. She came to the black market purely to find some rare items.

"How much are these eggs?" she asked, squatting in front of an old lady's stall, pointing to the free-range eggs in the basket.

"One cent and fifty cents each." The old woman lowered her voice, her eyes darting around warily.

"I'll take them all," Jiang Zhiyu said decisively, taking out her money. The old lady's eyes lit up, and she quickly packed the eggs into a cloth bag.

She then walked to a stall selling cured pork. The pork was glistening with oil and had a pleasant pine aroma; it looked delicious. "How much is this cured pork?"

"One yuan fifty per jin." The stall owner was a man with a rather loud voice. He was glared at by someone next to him and quickly lowered his voice.

Jiang Zhiyu bought five jin (2.5 kg) of herbs and also picked out some high-quality medicinal herbs—a few dried astragalus plants and some gastrodia elata, all for her parents to nourish their bodies. Each time she bought something, she would excuse herself to the nearby outhouse to store it in her spatial storage, then return to continue shopping.

"Host, are you here to buy more goods?" 0047 teased. "Everyone else comes to the black market to sell things and exchange them for money, but you're doing the opposite, buying everything in sight."

"Money can be earned back, but things are gone once they're gone," Jiang Zhiyu said matter-of-factly. Having been terrified of hunger in the apocalypse, she now wants to hoard food whenever she sees it, a habit she's unlikely to break.

After browsing for more than half an hour, she had spent almost all the money in her hand, but her space had accumulated quite a few good things. Just as she was about to leave, she suddenly remembered the mountain of corn in her space—it was harvested from the black soil and watered with spiritual spring water, so the kernels were incredibly plump. If she put it any more in, it would probably fill half of the space.

"I have to find a way to sell it," she muttered.

Jiang Zhiyu walked up to the man who had just taken her money and cut to the chase: "I have a deal to discuss with your boss. Can you make that decision?"

The man raised an eyebrow: "What kind of business?"

"Can he eat 5,000 jin (2,500 kg) of corn?"

The man's eyes widened instantly. He sized her up for a while, and seeing that she didn't seem to be joking, he quickly said, "You wait here, I'll go get our boss!"

A moment later, a middle-aged man in a Zhongshan suit with a buzz cut followed the man in. His eyes were sharp and shrewd. He looked Jiang Zhiyu up and down and said politely, "Comrade, shall we talk inside?"

Jiang Zhiyu followed him into a small courtyard deep in the alley. There were some sacks piled up in the courtyard, and several men were guarding the door, looking like they were not to be trifled with.

"What's your surname, comrade?" The man with the buzz cut poured her a cup of hot water.

"My surname is Jiang." Jiang Zhiyu didn't say much, but took a handful of corn kernels from her pocket and put them on the table. "Take a look at the goods first."

The corn kernels were golden and plump, with a glossy sheen, looking much better than ordinary corn. The man with the buzz cut picked up a kernel, put it in his mouth and chewed it. His eyes suddenly lit up—this corn actually had a sweet taste. It was so delicious even when dried. If it were ground into flour, wouldn't it be incredibly fragrant?

"Comrade Jiang, this corn..." His tone changed, becoming somewhat excited, "Is it really five thousand catties?"

"Yes, I won't shortchange you by a single pound." Jiang Zhiyu nodded. "I want it for 15 cents a pound."

The man with the buzz cut hesitated for a moment. Ordinary corn on the black market cost only twelve cents, so this price was indeed a bit high, but the quality of this corn was definitely worth it. He gritted his teeth: "Fine! Fifteen cents it is!" He paused, then asked, "Do you want cash? Or…?"

"I want antiques," Jiang Zhiyu said. "Porcelain, calligraphy and paintings, jade are all fine. If they are old, I can calculate the market price and make up the difference." She doesn't lack cash in her space, but antiques have great potential for appreciation in the future, so it's definitely a good idea to stock up on some.

The buzz-cut man's eyes lit up even more—he actually had a few old items he'd collected, and was just worried no one would buy them. "No problem! Shall we make the deal tonight? In the grove behind the old stage, there's no one there."

"Okay." Jiang Zhiyu stood up. "I'll be there on time at eight o'clock tonight."

Leaving the black market, Jiang Zhiyu felt hungry and headed straight for the state-run restaurant. The restaurant wasn't crowded. She ordered braised pork, and after just one bite, her eyes narrowed – the braised pork was tender and the sauce was rich, much tastier than the fast food in her spatial storage.

"One more, to go," she called to the waiter.

The waitress, a young woman, saw that the girl had ordered two portions of meat and couldn't help but remind her, "Comrade, we can't waste food."

"We have guests over," Jiang Zhiyu said casually. Inwardly, however, she sighed—if she had known this would happen, she wouldn't have ordered so much; she had originally planned to pack five portions to go.

After lunch, she went to Xinhua Bookstore. The store was quite crowded, mostly with people buying the "Little Red Book" (a popular study guide for high school students). High school textbooks were tossed aside in a corner, covered in dust. Jiang Zhiyu went over and bought all the textbooks from grades 10 to 11—there were still two years until the 1977 college entrance exam, and she needed to start reviewing in advance.

When she checked out, the sales clerk looked at her with surprise—in this day and age, someone still buys high school textbooks? She must be a bookworm.

Jiang Zhiyu was too lazy to explain. She paid, picked up her textbooks, and left the bookstore, finding a secluded corner to store them in her spatial storage. The following afternoon, she wandered around the entire county, checking out the fabrics at the supply and marketing cooperative and buying some needles and thread at a general store. She leisurely whiled away the time, enjoying this rare moment of peace.

As evening fell, she found a guesthouse near the state-run hotel, showed her letter of introduction, and booked a room. After resting for a while, she changed her clothes and went back to the state-run hotel.

"Comrade, six servings of braised pork, to go."

The waitress who had just been there looked at her, even more surprised: "What's this...?"

"The boss wants to treat some people to dinner, and he only recognizes your braised pork. He says your braised pork is the most authentic, and he specifically asked me to pack it up." Jiang Zhiyu lied without batting an eye.

The young woman then understood and quickly called to the kitchen, "Chef, six servings of braised pork, rush!"

Carrying six lunchboxes, Jiang Zhiyu walked out of the restaurant, turned into an alley, and quickly put the braised pork into her spatial storage—it was a surprise for her parents, still warm.