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

Having promised Zhang Chong and the others that she would send them the materials, Jiang Zhiyu disguised herself again today and went out alone.

She changed her clothes, wrapped her hair in a cloth, and did some work on her face, making her look like an ordinary woman in her thirties. No one would recognize her if she walked down the street.

When they arrived at Xinhua Bookstore, they were dumbfounded.

The bookshelves were completely empty; there wasn't a single review material left, not even a basic textbook. The sales clerk behind the counter glanced at her, holding a teacup, and said indifferently, "Self-study series for math, physics, and chemistry? Long gone. Many people received the letters a while ago; it sold out last month. No textbooks either. Come back next month."

Seventeen thought to himself, "Host, you're in trouble now, aren't you?"

"Yes, I didn't expect these textbooks to be in such high demand."

"What should we do then?"

"Well, we're already here. We'll figure something out when we get back. But since we're out here, let's buy some supplies and send them over. They'll need to focus on their studies and won't have time to earn work points, so they'll definitely be short on supplies. We still have so many ration coupons; they'll come in handy."

She turned and left the Xinhua Bookstore, heading straight for the department store.

Since there were no self-study books for math, physics, and chemistry, we bought them some large sheets of white paper and review notebooks. Notebooks were scarce at the time, and most of the educated youth were reluctant to use paper, so they would flip through the pages after writing a few words.

"Comrade, bring five hundred sheets of white paper and ten exercise books."

The salesperson counted the money and gave it to her.

Seventeen reminded her, "Host, you should also buy them pens, erasers, and pencils. These are rationed, so they definitely don't have any."

"Okay, you've thought of everything quite thoroughly."

She then picked out a pen, eraser, and pencil, placing them one by one into her basket. When she reached the grocery counter, she saw malted milk powder on the shelf, in a tin can with red lettering printed on it. A standard nutritional supplement in the 1970s, it was fragrant and sweet when mixed with water.

She bought ten cans in one go.

There's not much to eat to supplement nutrition in winter, so let's buy this to help them get some.

I bought some biscuits, brown sugar, and white sugar, filling a whole bag. As I passed the general merchandise counter, I saw coarse woolen balls and thick cotton gloves hanging there.

She paused in her steps.

In the winters of Northeast China, there's no heating indoors, and your hands can freeze while writing. Those educated youth who lived in Kaoshantun for so many years endured every winter with sheer grit.

She took twenty pairs of thick socks and twenty pairs of cotton gloves, asking the salesperson to pack them up together.

After buying these items, she asked the department store clerk to help her take the goods to the post office. Once there, she packed everything into a box, then added 300 jin of grain coupons and 10 jin of oil coupons.

Finally, I wrote a letter, folded it, and put it on top of the box so the post office could seal and pack it.

"My elder sister sent these to Kaoshantun Brigade in Heilongjiang Province."

...

After leaving the post office, she didn't walk straight ahead, but instead turned a corner and went to the military compound.

The gate to the Song family's courtyard was ajar. When she pushed it open, Song Bingzheng was sitting in a rattan chair in the main room, flipping through a newspaper. Seeing a woman with an unfamiliar face walk in from the courtyard, the old man paused, his brows furrowing.

Who are you looking for?

Jiang Zhiyu touched her nose and smiled as she said, "Grandpa, it's me."

Song Bingzheng pushed his reading glasses up his nose, stared at her for several seconds, and then suddenly slapped his thigh.

"My goodness, what are you doing? I almost didn't recognize you!"

"Those people are always watching me. How can I dare to come out openly without dressing up?"

"Come in quickly, don't let the people outside see."

Jiang Zhiyu looked at the cautious old man with amusement. She went inside and sat down, and Song Bingzheng looked her up and down twice.

"Look at you, you've gotten so thin lately. I'll ask Sister Yang to make you some chicken soup."

"Grandpa, no need, I just ate when I arrived."

She settled herself into the chair before getting down to business.

"Grandpa, I came to see you today because I need your help. I wanted to send a set of self-study books on math, physics, and chemistry to the other educated youth who went to the countryside with me, but I couldn't find a single one at the Xinhua Bookstore today."

Song Bingzheng thought for a moment, then stood up and paced around the room with his hands behind his back.

"Yeah, I'll go see Old Zhang later. His son is the principal of a middle school; getting a set of that book shouldn't be a problem."

Jiang Zhiyu took out a fifty-year-old ginseng from her spatial storage and placed it discreetly next to Old Master Song.

"Grandpa, take this. Don't go empty-handed."

Song Bingzheng glanced down, gasped, and his expression changed.

"You little brat, take it back! It's just a set of books, why would you want a fifty-year-old ginseng?"

Jiang Zhiyu didn't move, but looked at him with a smile.

Old Master Song put on a stern face and adopted a serious expression.

"If I just put on a stern face, he'll have to find me both sets."

"Grandpa, you can't keep trying to get something for nothing, can you? Besides, this is the book I wanted."

Song Bingzheng glanced at the ginseng on the table, picked it up, stroked its roots, looked at it again, and muttered something under his breath.

"No, that's final."

He turned around and took two bottles of special-supply liquor from his wine cabinet, then looked at the ginseng root again and again. After hesitating for a good ten seconds, he finally sighed and picked it up.

"Your Grandpa Zhang's wife isn't in good health, so please take it."

"Grandpa, you go ahead, I'll get you another one from an even better vintage."

Upon hearing this, Song Bingzheng's eyes lit up.

"Alright, then Grandpa will be waiting for your ginseng."

...

Sure enough, not long after, Grandpa Song returned.

He was carrying two sets of self-study books on mathematics, physics, and chemistry, along with three thick notebooks. He put the things on the table and dusted them off.

"I got it for you. Old Zhang's son was overjoyed; ginseng is incredibly rare. So he also included his work notes. You can mail it back to the kids now."

"Thank you, Grandpa. As expected, we needed your help; you solved the problem so quickly."

"Girl, do you know how valuable your ginseng is? They still owe us a huge favor because of it." The old man patted his chest proudly. "Ah, I've really benefited from your influence."

Jiang Zhiyu smiled, took out an even larger ginseng from her pocket, and pushed it in front of Old Master Song.

"Hey, Grandpa, I promised you. This one's two hundred years old. Just add a little bit when you make soup."

Song Bingzheng jerked to his feet, nearly dropping his reading glasses.

"How much did you say? Two hundred years?"

He reached out and picked up the ginseng, examining it over and over several times, his hands trembling.

"Hey you silly girl, why are you taking everything out like this! It's such a waste for me to eat such expensive things!"

"Grandpa, just take it without worry. It's good for replenishing nutrients, but don't overdo it. Just put in a little bit each time."

Grandpa Song carefully wrapped the ginseng in cloth, got up and went into the inner room.

"I'd better hide quickly, lest Zhang Jisheng sees me next time he comes. He's getting more and more shameless these days; he's really daring to steal!"

Jiang Zhiyu couldn't help but laugh when she saw the old man's nervous expression.

...

After saying goodbye to Grandpa Song, Jiang Zhiyu hurried to the post office with the two sets of books and three notebooks, managing to pack and mail them before the office closed.

After mailing it, she thought for a moment, then walked to the public phone next to the post office and dialed the number for Kaoshantun.

It rang several times before the other end answered.

"Feed? Is that Xiao Jiang, the educated youth? You called them again?"

It was Captain Chen's voice.

"Yes, Captain. We'll be hibernating there soon, so the educated youth won't have to work in the fields anymore, right?"

"Yes, there was supposed to be some work, like clearing land and stuff, but I didn't let them go to the fields. I wanted these kids to focus on their studies."

"Yes, you did the right thing, Captain. The more people from our village who pass the exams, the more honored you will be."

"That makes sense, that makes sense." Captain Chen chuckled a few times on the other end of the line.

"Captain, could you please pass on a message to them? I sent them some supplies and review materials; please make sure they sign for them upon receipt. As for how to distribute them, I wrote Zhang Chong as the recipient; let her handle the distribution."

"Okay, okay, I've got it!"

"Village chief, if you encounter any difficulties, please give me a call." She recited the small courtyard's phone number.

"Alright, alright, I'll remember that. Thank you, Little Jiang, for remembering us even after you've left."

"You're too kind, Captain."

After hanging up the phone, Jiang Zhiyu walked out of the phone booth and let out a long sigh.

The street had already darkened, and the streetlights had just come on, casting a dim yellow light on the road.