When Garrett opened the box beneath the bookshelf, a dim light spilled out, illuminating a thin layer of coins. He carefully poured them out, sorting them by color, and meticulously counted each one—once, twice.

Ten gold coins.

Eight silver coins.

Among the gold, there was one that stood out.

Garrett picked it up, examining it closely. Nine of the ten gold coins featured a beautiful woman's face wearing a crown on the obverse side, with intertwined roses on the reverse—a familiar sight, likely from their own country's currency. It seemed to be a depiction of a queen on the front and presumably the royal emblem on the back.

But the last one had a different mark. The obverse displayed a bearded man with a crown, while the reverse showed a double-headed eagle with outspread wings. Different emblem, different face. Considering the rose pattern on the reverse of the other silver coins, this distinctive one might be from a foreign land?

As for how it was left there, its value, or whether it could be spent directly, Garrett searched his memory but found no answers.

Regardless, these ten gold and eight silver coins constituted the final savings left by his predecessor's father. Buried under the bed and stowed beneath the bookshelf, he was instructed not to touch them unless absolutely necessary.

The reason for the distinction between gold and silver was the concern that a young child, weak in strength, might recklessly spend gold coins and attract trouble.

... How much should he take out this time?

After careful consideration, Garrett put back eight gold coins into the box—including the one with the double-headed eagle—and returned three silver coins. He meticulously reset the box, cleared the traces on the floor, pocketed the money pouch, and darted out of the house towards the paper and pen store.

In Hartland City, Garrett only remembered one shop that sold paper and pens. The store was near the city lord's mansion square, about two hundred meters south along the main street, a prime location within the entire city. Carriages with family emblems adorned the bustling streets, gentlemen and ladies passing by now and then.

On each side of the store entrance hung two lanterns, illuminating half of the street. Surprisingly, there was even a doorman under the lanterns—white shirt, suspenders, holding a board about a foot wide and over two meters tall, laboring to put it up for the shop.

When Garrett arrived, the doorman glanced at him with surprise. His eyes swept over Garrett, who wore a visibly altered linen shirt, pants splattered with mud, and a patched backpack. His lips moved slightly, and he placed the board down, then approached to open the door for Garrett. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ɴøvᴇlFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

Stepping into the shop, a waist-high wooden counter divided the entire storefront into two sections. Inside the counter lazily sat a young attendant—white shirt, black waistcoat, a black bow tie neatly secured under his neck, wearing a face that said, "Don't bother me, I'm about to finish my shift."

Apart from the counter, there was nothing else on the outside. Inside, behind the attendant, cabinets displayed various scrolls, quill pens, ink bottles, and stationery boxes, a wall adorned with a myriad of items.

Garrett craned his neck to look at the scrolls. The attendant raised his head for a swift glance, lazily asking, "What do you want to buy?"

"Paper," Garrett managed to say one word before being interrupted. The attendant didn't even lift an eyelid but continued, "Parchment paper, two silver coins each, plain paper, four silver coins each. How many do you need?"

"So expensive?!" Garrett was astonished. Two silver coins for parchment paper could be understood since it's made from animal skin, but four silver coins for plain paper? Was this some sort of high-quality paper?

This couldn't be parchment from the Sanctum, could it?

No, that wasn't the main point. If regular plain paper cost twice as much as parchment, how did the paper-making industry survive without going bankrupt? 

The young attendant rolled his eyes impatiently. Rather than answering, he crossed his arms and arrogantly added, "Minimum purchase of ten sheets."

"One sheet for two silver coins, ten sheets for twenty silver coins, or two gold coins... How many sheets would it take to copy an entire book? Would a thousand be enough?" If calculated, just for this purpose, it would cost two hundred gold coins...

Apart from the alchemical apparatus and surgical tools in that box, selling off the house, furniture, everything in the house wouldn't likely be enough. Garrett calculated with the little hope he had and asked tentatively, "Anything cheaper?"

"Cheaper?" The attendant raised an eyebrow. Just as he was about to say something, a swift elderly man rushed out from the inner part of the shop.

"We have plenty! What kind do you need?" The elderly man appeared more extravagantly dressed than the young attendant. His coat was adorned with a velvety border, and the buttons on his rotund belly shimmered, almost ready to pop off. He glared at the attendant and then instantly put on a smiling face.

"We have all kinds of goods in this little shop. The cheapest one is paper from Valwick, four silver coins per sheet. Slightly whiter, smoother ones from Norumbria, official documents' paper, one gold coin per sheet.

"The paper you heard before is regularly ordered by the Magic Tower outside the city. It's said to improve the success rate of copying scrolls, even better than parchment. Only four silver coins per sheet. Quite a bargain!"

So, it was specialized paper for copying magical scrolls. Garrett suddenly realized—though paper-making had become common, high-quality paper wasn't easy to produce. Not to mention magical paper representing tangible power; in his previous life, even top-notch papers could cost a hefty sum, selling thousands for just one or two gold coins.

"How many sheets for a gold coin?" The young attendant sneered. But the elderly man didn't find the question too mundane. He continued with a smile, "25 sheets, absolutely no discount!"

Hmm... Garrett swiftly calculated. Twenty-five sheets for one gold coin, four silver coins. A thousand sheets would cost 160 gold coins—or 16 gold coins. He had ten gold coins, eight silver coins, and seven copper coins. But would a thousand sheets be enough for a child learning to read and write?

Definitely not enough, right? These days, reading and writing seemed to be the privileges of the upper class...

Garrett sighed. After the moment of reflection, he resumed negotiating the price, "Would buying more get me a discount?"

"For one tael, that's twenty pieces, seven gold coins and five silver coins! And we deliver right to your door!"

"Pens? Ink?"

"Quill pens, two silver coins for a goose feather pen that can be sharpened at least twenty times! Refined goose feather pen for four silver coins, can be sharpened at least fifty times, comes with a sharpening knife! Regular writing ink, two silver coins for an ounce, five ounces for a large bottle at eight silver coins!"

They were really good at doing business.

Garrett chuckled wryly. This pricing strategy and attracting customers reminded him of household packs, wholesale, and combination deals in supermarkets from his past life.

He considered his needs and took out

 his wallet, "I'll take four sheets of regular writing paper and one refined goose feather pen. I only have two gold coins and five silver coins, could I get another bottle of the large ink?"

The paper, pen, and ink totaled two gold coins and eight silver coins. As soon as Garrett made his request, demanding a ten percent discount, the young attendant, watching from the side, couldn't help but scoff and sneer, "If you can't afford it, then don't buy! —Do you even have gold coins?"

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