Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life-Chapter 19: Can a scholar’s affairs be called spending money?

The sky had brightened.

Not the kind of awakening brought by rooster crows and dog barks in the village, but a listless light that filtered through the gaps in the window paper, having been strained once by the high courtyard walls.

Zhao Rui hadn't slept all night, lying awake on the cold wooden plank bed like a fish thrown ashore.

His uncle's contemptuous words, the servants' mocking faces, and that bowl of watery porridge worse than pig slop—they pricked him like needles all over, making him utterly uncomfortable.

Su Ming was already up, practicing a strange set of fist movements in the corner of the courtyard with meticulous precision.

The movements were very slow, very clumsy, like elderly villagers stretching their joints.

Zhao Rui couldn't understand it, finding it only ridiculous, but looking at Su Ming's calm face, he couldn't bring himself to laugh.

That face held no anger, no humiliation, only a kind of focus completely unfamiliar to him.

"You... you're really going to the bookshop?" Zhao Rui finally couldn't help speaking, his voice dry and hoarse.

Su Ming finished his fist movements, exhaling a long puff of white breath, and nodded: "Yes."

"...I'll go with you." Zhao Rui climbed off the bed plank, his voice as small as a mosquito's buzz.

He didn't know why he wanted to tag along either—perhaps simply because he couldn't stand this suffocating courtyard anymore, couldn't bear facing his shattered pride alone.

The streets of Qingshi Town awakened in the early morning like a giant beast yawning.

Early-rising shopkeepers removed their door panels, assistants splashed water to sweep the streets, steamers from bun shops emitted white heat, mingling with the aromas of meat and dough, making people's stomachs growl with craving.

Zhao Rui kept his head down, instinctively wanting to hide his face in his collar.

He felt like everyone on the street was watching him, looking at his shabby clothes, the bruises on his face.

But Su Ming walked steadily.

His gaze didn't linger excessively on the dazzling array of goods, but rather absorbed everything around him like a sponge.

The location of the carriage house, the prices at the grain and oil shop, the patrol routes of the street guards...

"Disciple, see that?" Lin Yu's voice sounded in his mind, like an experienced tour guide. "That cloth shop on the left displays fine cotton and silk fabrics, indicating many wealthy households in town. But the pawnshop on the right has a queue outside, meaning there are even more poor people."

"This is a typical feudal society model with clear class division. Our goal is to climb from the exploited class to the exploiting class as quickly as possible... no, to become self-sufficient independent individuals who aren't exploited by anyone."

"Remember, the prosperity is theirs, the dangers are theirs too. We're just passing through."

The two wound through the streets, following the route Su Ming had memorized yesterday, until they found the town's largest bookshop—Wenbao Zhai.

The shopfront was made of black lacquered wood, exuding a solemn air.

A shopkeeper wearing a long gown with a mustache shaped like the character "eight" was lazily dusting the counter with a feather duster.

He lifted his eyelids, saw Su Ming and Zhao Rui entering, and his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Especially when he saw Zhao Rui's wretched state, the disdain in his eyes nearly overflowed.

"You can look at books, but wash your hands before touching them." The shopkeeper's voice was neither warm nor cold. "Don't dirty the books—you couldn't afford to replace any here."

Zhao Rui's face flushed crimson instantly, his fists clenching, but he didn't dare lash out like he used to.

Su Ming, however, acted as if he hadn't heard. He walked to the wall, washed his hands meticulously in a water basin, dried them with his own clothes, and only then approached the bookshelves.

"Good, disciple, your 'Way of Survival' mindset has improved further," Lin Yu praised. "Enduring humiliation to preserve strength offers the highest return on emotional investment. Getting angry at irrelevant people wastes nothing but saliva and yields no benefits."

Wenbao Zhai had many books, rows of shelves reaching the ceiling, the air filled with the scent of ink and the unique smell of old paper.

Su Ming took a deep breath.

This smell was more fragrant than meat buns.

He didn't look at the prominently displayed "Classics Collection Explanations" or "Key Points of Policy Essays"—those books used premium materials and clearly cost a fortune.

He went straight to the innermost corner, where some yellowed old books and miscellaneous texts were piled.

He pulled one out, squatted in the corner, and began reading as if no one else was around.

Zhao Rui stood in place, not knowing where to put his hands and feet.

The shopkeeper's contempt, the strange looks from other scholars in the bookshop—all made him feel prickly discomfort.

Seeing Su Ming squatting on the ground reading with relish like a true bookworm, a sudden inexplicable anger rose in his heart.

But this fire couldn't quite ignite.

He could only imitate Su Ming, find a corner, pick up a book, and pretend to read.

Time passed bit by bit.

Su Ming became completely immersed in the world of books.

He read broadly—geographical records, biographies, even some agriculture-related texts.

This knowledge opened windows for him, showing him the vast world beyond Su Family Village.

"Disciple, just reading isn't enough—you need to leave evidence," Lin Yu's voice chimed in timely. "Go, buy two books."

Su Ming replied mentally: "Master, money... we need to spend carefully."

"Foolish!" Lin Yu's voice turned serious. "Can this be called spending? This is strategic investment! Let me ask you, where will our papermaking formula come from in the future? You can't say you dreamed it up at night, can you?"

Su Ming froze.

"You'll say you found it in an insignificant miscellaneous book! Untraceable! What is this called? This is building an 'intellectual property firewall'! Spending a few dozen coins to buy a flawless excuse, avoiding endless future troubles—is this deal worthwhile or not?"

"Moreover, we're staying at the Zhou family's place, saving a large sum on inn expenses. That money should be used where it's most needed! Knowledge is our sharpest blade right now! Go, find one book about regional customs and another about farming techniques. The older and cheaper, the better!"

Su Ming's mind suddenly brightened.

He stood up and began searching through the pile of old books.

Just as he reached for a heavily damaged "Essential Farming Techniques" buried at the very bottom, another hand reached for it too.

It was a very clean hand, with slender fingers and distinct knuckles.

Su Ming looked up and saw a youth.

The youth appeared about fourteen or fifteen, wearing faded blue cloth clothes. Though the material was ordinary, they were cleanly laundered without a single wrinkle.

He had a lean face, tightly pressed lips, and eyes like deep pool water—unusually serene for someone his age.

Seeing Su Ming, he paused briefly, then silently withdrew his hand.

Su Ming noticed the youth had a small book box at his feet. The box was open, containing not valuable books but a stack of neatly cut rough paper and a simple set of writing implements.

He had actually been here reading while copying texts.

Those who copied books here were either from poor families who couldn't afford books, or possessed extraordinary dedication to scholarship.

Su Ming felt an inexplicable closeness toward him.

He took out the "Essential Farming Techniques" and offered it: "You read it first."

The youth shook his head, his voice cool yet clear: "No need, I've finished reading. You take it."

After speaking, he packed his small book box and turned toward another bookshelf.

Su Ming watched his retreating figure, then found another book with a faded cover titled "Records of Southern Border Wonders." Holding both books, he approached the counter.

"Shopkeeper, how much for these two?"

The mustached shopkeeper took the books, flipped through them lazily, and snorted through his nose: "Sixty coins, not one less."

Sixty coins.

This was almost half a month's living expenses for the Su family.

Su Ming reached into his clothes, touching the heavy string of copper coins.

The coins still carried the warmth and sweat of his eldest and second brothers.

His hand trembled slightly.

Zhao Rui, watching nearby, felt mixed emotions.

Su Ming took a deep breath, carefully counted out sixty copper coins from the string, and placed them on the counter.

"Here."

The shopkeeper took the money, pushed the two shabby books toward him, and paid no further attention. The shopkeeper's eyes shifted to the youth and said: "Surname Xu, get out."

Su Ming carefully stored the books in his small bundle as if holding two rare treasures.

He turned and left the bookshop.

The youth who had been copying also came out. He looked at Su Ming, hesitated for a moment, then spoke up.

"Books in Qingshi Town are expensive," the youth said. "Under the old locust tree at the west city corner, there's a bookstall. His books are all handwritten copies—half the price."

After speaking, he said no more, nodded slightly to Su Ming and Zhao Rui, shouldered his small book box, and walked straight away.

Su Ming watched his retreating figure, silently memorizing the words "west city corner, old locust tree, bookstall."

"Disciple, see? This is also a smart person," Lin Yu remarked with feeling. "He knows how to use information to exchange for a potential favor. If such people aren't enemies, you can try befriending them. On the 'Way of Survival,' having one more friend means one more information channel, one more layer of safety."

Stepping out of Wenbao Zhai, the outside sunlight was somewhat dazzling.

Zhao Rui remained silent until they had walked quite far before he asked in a low voice.

"You... why did you buy those two shabby books? They're useless for the exams."

Su Ming's steps didn't stop. Looking at the bustling crowd ahead, his voice was soft yet clear.

"Reading isn't just for exams."

Zhao Rui's footsteps halted abruptly.

He looked at Su Ming's back—that fellow villager he'd always seen as somewhat dull and slow—and in that moment, he seemed both unfamiliar and somehow taller.