Chapter 21: What bad things are you planning?
Su Qingyue thought she had done it secretly, but she didn't know that her sneaky and angry look was seen by Ruan Anan.
Ruan Anan leaned against the carved railing, holding a cup of tea brewed with space spiritual spring water.
With his other hand, he casually flipped through a booklet containing illustrated instructions for foreign weapons.
Watching Su Qingyue disappear behind the side door, the corners of her lips curled up in a half-smile.
"Tsk, she's worthy of being the heroine of the original book. Her ability to self-regulate is truly top-notch. She was furious as a boiled prawn just now, her face red and her neck thick. How long has it been since she was fine? And she's still looking so smug. It seems like she's up to something bad again."
She took a sip of coffee, her eyes cold and indifferent: "Alright, if you want to act like a demon, go ahead! I, Ruan Anan, will accompany you to the end. Let's see who gets the worst of it."
But right now, Su Qingyue's reputation has become so bad that she definitely won't have the courage to go out in the short term.
But she also has more important things to do, which is - buy a jar!
The sun was scorching in the afternoon, and Ruan Anan quickly changed her clothes.
A half-new, half-worn, washed-out red cotton-padded jacket with floral patterns, paired with a tacky dark green woolen headscarf.
The headscarf tightly wrapped the lower half of the face, and the thick bangs covered the smooth forehead and the overly bright eyes.
With all her clothes on, her bright and pretty little face was completely covered. From a distance, she looked just like an aunt or grannies busy making a living in an ordinary alley. She would become "invisible" in an instant if thrown into a crowd.
The destination of her trip is exactly the starting point of Su Qingyue's fortune in the original novel - the Haishi black market.
According to Li Jianguo, she will probably go to the island base in the next few days.
Before leaving, she had to brew wine and pickle all the high-quality green plums and fresh vegetables stored in the space!
In the past three days, she used the "one-click cooking" function in the space to make a lot of good things, but the biggest problem was -
No place to put it!
The ready-made containers in the space, any pickle jar picked out at random, are antiques from the Xuande period of the Ming Dynasty. Keeping them at home is simply the source of disaster!
What she needed was the most ordinary, inconspicuous clay jar that looked "poor".
The reason for choosing the black market is not because we are short of those industrial tickets.
Instead, using the coupons to openly buy a bunch of jars from the supply and marketing cooperative would be too conspicuous and would easily attract attention.
It would be better to solve it quietly by using money on the black market.
After all, on that island where supplies are relatively scarce, tickets are much more valuable than cash.
Relying on his memory of the novel's plot, Ruan Anan found his way to the black market with ease.
Unlike other places, the black market in Haishi is hidden deep down. It is not located on the streets or in the alleys, but is entrenched in an old chemical factory that has been abandoned for many years and smells of rust and residual chemicals.
The tall iron gate of the factory building was closed, and two rough men with old military caps tilted on their heads and ruffian looks were squatting at the door.
Their eyes scanned passers-by like knives.
One of the scarred men saw Ruan Anan approaching in this attire and immediately stood up vigilantly, shooing her away in a gruff voice: "Auntie! This isn't the place for you! Get out of here, get out of here!"
His eyes swept over her like a searchlight several times.
"Cough! Cough cough!" Ruan Anan suppressed her voice and coughed violently a few times, like an old woman with lung disease.
She tremblingly took out an ancient copper coin from her dusty trouser pocket and handed it over, her voice hoarse: "Ahem... I'm from the Zhou... Zhou family... ahem... here to do some shopping..."
Scarface took the coin, took a closer look, and his expression changed instantly. His ruffian attitude immediately disappeared, and he unconsciously straightened his back a little. He changed his tone to respectful and even a little flattering: "Oh! So you are Boss Zhou's people! You should have told me earlier! Sorry for the inconvenience! Please come in!"
As he spoke, he deftly opened an inconspicuous small iron door next to him.
"Thank you!" Ruan Anan still lowered her voice, imitating the old voice, took back the copper coin, and slipped in sideways.
Perhaps because the situation has been tense recently, the huge factory seems quite deserted.
There were only five or six customers shopping, all with their necks hunched and eyes alert.
Most of the stall owners looked impatient or anxious as they guarded their "goods".
But the things were really complete, from cloth, grain and oil to pots and pans, and even some smuggled electronic pianos and tin car models piled up in the corner.
There are also many living things, including chirping chickens and ducklings, and grunting piglets.
Ruan Anan had a clear goal and soon found a stall in the corner against the wall that sold all kinds of pots, pans, and large and small wine jars.
She pointed to a modest-looking, five-jin (100-pound) clay wine jar lying on the ground and asked in her now somewhat recovered, cool voice, "How much is this jar?"
The stall owner, a flabby-faced man, was picking his teeth idly. Without even raising his eyelids, he lazily quoted a sky-high price: "Five dollars a piece! No bargaining! Let me make it clear, if you want to buy, you have to move it yourself. I won't serve you!"
Five dollars?! Ruan Anan sneered inwardly.
These days, a good quality coarse porcelain jar costs about this much!
How dare he, a broken clay jar, ask such a question?
It's obvious that he is looking at her because she doesn't look familiar, and he is raising the price to rip her off!
She frowned and chopped it down fiercely: "Two pieces. I'll take all the money from your stall."
The voice was not loud, but it was unquestionably decisive.
"Huh?!" The man looked at her straight in the eye and sneered at her rustic outfit.
"Aren't you afraid of getting your tongue tangled up in your boasting? I've got over fifty of them! Two dollars apiece? That's a hundred dollars! Can you afford that?"
Without saying a word, Ruan Anan reached into the inner pocket of his cotton-padded jacket and took out ten brand new and crisp "Great Unity" banknotes, which he slammed onto the stall owner's broken wooden box containing change.
Without waiting for the man to recover from his shock, she turned and left, saying, "Fifty of them. Count them and pile them up by the door. I'll pick them up when I'm done shopping!"
The tone was crisp and clear, with an air of urgency that brooked no rebuttal.
The man changed his attitude and said, bowing his waist, "Don't worry! I promise to sort them neatly for you!"
As he spoke, he quickly pointed twice with his saliva-soaked fingers and gave a fierce look to an accomplice who was keeping watch nearby.
"See? A fat sheep! And a rich fat sheep!"
The two exchanged a knowing look of greed, and began to move the heavy wine jars with swift hands and feet.
When the pile reached the door, he did not forget to wink at the thin, dark-skinned middle-aged man sitting in the corner.
Ruan Anan had already noticed this little action out of the corner of her eye and sneered in her heart.
Panic? That doesn't exist.
Instead of being in a hurry, she deliberately slowed down her pace of selection, as if she was strolling in her own vegetable garden.
The conditions on the island are harsh, but it is a military base after all, so we won’t starve to death.
She picked out a few pieces of high-quality bacon, which were fat and lean, shiny and oily, and more than fifty pounds of beef shank with firm tendons.
This thing is durable in storage and tastes delicious even when stewed.
The real big money is those inconspicuous bottles and jars.
Fermented bean curd, sesame paste, soy sauce, aged vinegar...especially brown sugar!
As a new-age woman who is well versed in health preservation, Ruan Anan knows that loving anyone is not as good as loving yourself.
With a wave of her hand, she bought up all the brown sugar cubes that were like a small mountain on the stall.
And those exquisite little skirts and leather shoes in the original owner's wardrobe are pretty, but using them to work in the fields is pure suffering.
She also picked out a few sets of ordinary gray, wear-resistant and dirt-resistant clothes and cloth shoes, which looked like those from an ordinary working-class family in the city.
She didn't miss out on anything that could be stockpiled and used.
The most surprising thing was that there was a female goat with a round belly and bulging nipples tied in the corner!
Ruan Anan's eyes lit up——
This is a live milk source!
Once it gives birth to cubs in space, freedom from goat milk will no longer be a dream!
After a round of shopping, the "huge sum" of 4,000 yuan in his pocket was reduced to a thin stack.
In the open space at the entrance of the black market, her "trophies" had already piled up into a small mountain.
At some point, she became the only customer left in the huge abandoned factory.
The eyes of the originally lazy vendors around her were glued to her like hooks, with undisguised greed and calculation.
Ruan Anan seemed unaware of the danger and walked straight towards the two people guarding the door...
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