The tractor rattled along for over an hour.

When they got off at the commune, Su Cen saw several people jump down and immediately crouch by the roadside, vomiting. She secretly felt lucky—good thing she had only eaten one bun that morning. Otherwise, if she hadn’t been shaken sick, she would’ve been overwhelmed by the smell!

At that moment, all she wanted was to get away as fast as possible.

Hearing the driver say they would regroup at 2 p.m., she turned to Lin Jiajia and Gao Xiuqin and said, “I have something personal to take care of, so I won’t be going with you.”

She nodded to Yan Mingyuan and the others, then quickened her pace toward the town.

To avoid exposing her storage space, she planned to visit the scrap collection station first so she could stay out of sync with the others as much as possible.

After walking a while, she spotted a crooked wooden sign that read: “Waste Materials Recycling Station.”

At the entrance sat an old man wearing a blue work uniform with white sleeve covers. His head kept nodding—he looked like he had just fallen asleep, his work cap nearly slipping off.

Su Cen took out a small handful of fruit candies from her cloth bag (which was really just a cover for her storage space), walked over, and knocked lightly.

The old man woke with a start, wiped imaginary drool, straightened up, and asked without even looking up, “What are you selling?”

Su Cen handed him the candy and said softly, “Sir, I’m a newly arrived educated youth. I’d like to pick out some old newspapers and small items to use.”

The old man pocketed the candy, pointed toward the back courtyard, and said in a low voice, “Be quick. Don’t make a mess. Bring what you pick to me to weigh.”

“Thank you!”

Su Cen went to the back and crouched by a pile of books and newspapers in the corner.

Most of them were old red-covered notebooks, textbooks, and tattered comic booklets with missing pages.

She first set aside two bundles of old newspapers.

Continuing to rummage, she found a cookbook and added it to her pile.

Seeing nothing else she wanted, she was about to check the old furniture area when she noticed another messy stack of books behind it and went over.

This time, her luck struck—she actually found a full set of math, physics, and chemistry books. Some covers were missing, but the contents were intact.

To avoid drawing attention, she also picked out a dozen or so novels—Fire, Snowfield, Guerrilla, and others—and tucked the science books among them in a mixed-up order so it just looked like a random pile of old books.

After stacking everything, she checked the furniture area but didn’t find anything she wanted.

She only took a fairly large woven wooden basket, loaded it with the books and newspapers, and carried it to the front.

“Sir, could you weigh these for me?”

The old man glanced at the pile, saw it was just books and newspapers, and didn’t bother weighing them. “Four mao for all of it. The basket’s free.”

Su Cen took out the money, counted out four mao, and handed it over. “Thank you so much!”

Si mao for that entire set of science books—what a steal!

The old man pocketed the money and waved her off. “Take it and go.”

She carried the basket to a secluded corner, left one bundle of newspapers out, and stored the rest in her space.

Then she took the newspapers and headed to the bookstore.

At the counter stood a sales clerk with two braids, wearing a military-style uniform.

“Hello, comrade. Could you please get me ten envelopes, a stack of writing paper, a sheet of stamps, a fountain pen, and a bottle of ink?”

“What brand of pen?”

“Hero brand, please.” She had heard they were reliable.

The clerk nodded and placed the items on the counter. “That’ll be 2 yuan, 1 jiao, and 7 fen.”

Su Cen counted the money, paid, and packed everything into her bag. Then she squatted near the entrance and wrote a letter to Aunt Wang, letting her know she was safe and expressing her gratitude once again.

After finishing, she touched her stomach—she was starting to feel hungry. She decided to check the state-run restaurant for food and planned to mail the letter later.

But when she got there, it was closed.

A sign at the door read:
Breakfast: 6:30–8:30
Lunch: 11:00–14:00
Dinner: 17:00–19:30

So she headed to the supply and marketing cooperative instead.

Afraid she might forget, she bought the most important things first.

At the hardware counter on the far left, she bought a medium-sized iron padlock and a small one for 1 yuan and 4 jiao—no ration coupons needed.

She noticed kerosene lamps in the glass display case and asked, “Comrade, how much is this lamp? Does it require coupons?”

“No coupon needed for the lamp. A basic household one costs 1 yuan 3 jiao. Lamp wicks are 2 fen per chi. Kerosene requires coupons—half a jin is 1 jiao 8 fen.”

Since she didn’t have kerosene coupons, Su Cen took out two candies from her bag, handed them over, and lowered her voice. “Brother, can I exchange for kerosene coupons here?”

The male clerk frowned deeply, his expression turning stern. He didn’t take the candy and spoke in a low but firm voice:

“Comrade, don’t put me in that position. That’s against the rules. If someone sees, I’ll lose my job.”

Embarrassed, Su Cen quickly pulled her hand back, stuffed the candy into her bag, and apologized repeatedly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I don’t have a lamp at home and got confused for a moment. Please don’t take it to heart.”

She stepped out of the store and stood outside.

She couldn’t help but complain inwardly—experience really was the best teacher. Blindly copying things could backfire.

In novels, the heroines could casually trade small items and sweet-talk their way into getting coupons or goods at supply stores.

But after experiencing it herself, she realized how exaggerated those stories were. From now on, she decided to be less clever and more cautious.

Even in modern times, she had only been twenty years old and had just graduated—she hadn’t really experienced society yet. There was still much to learn.

After standing in the breeze for a while, the heat on her face faded.

She went back into the store and bought daily necessities: laundry soap, bath soap, toothpaste, and a toothbrush—costing 9 jiao and 1 fen plus two soap coupons.

Then she went to the fabric counter. Seeing a friendly-looking older saleswoman, she asked, “Sister, I want to hang a curtain in my room to separate the kang bed from the stove. About how much fabric would that take?”

“Girl, you’re quite particular!” the woman said curiously. “At least one zhang of cloth.”

Su Cen thought it over. She did have ten cloth coupons, but spending them all at once would attract attention. Better to think of another way.

“Thank you, sister. I’ll skip it for now.”

As she left, she heard an older woman picking out fabric mutter, “What a waste. My dear grandson doesn’t even have proper clothes, and she wants to use good fabric for a curtain.”

Su Cen didn’t argue. She pretended not to hear and walked toward the food section.