Chapter 216 — The Business Plan

Plump Padrick Bohm sat somewhat stiffly in the reception hall of the Cecil lord's "castle," adjusting the position of his cravat for the third time.

He was not a man who had never seen the world, but even the most worldly man in this world would find it hard to win the chance for a private talk with a founding hero. He knew this occasion was entirely different from that earlier conversation at Kant Castle: last time, he had stood amid a crowd as the representative of the Kant domain and received Duke Cecil's appointment; this time, however, Duke Cecil had summoned him from the Kant domain for a private, face-to-face meeting.

The pressure exerted by these two kinds of conversation was utterly different.

At the same time, Padrick was curiously surveying this place that seemed so novel in his eyes.

This residence was Duke Cecil's castle, yet its style and form were completely unlike the noble fortresses of popular imagination. Rather than a castle, it came closer to the "holiday manor" architectural style that some nobles in the central regions had recently taken up. It was probably not as sturdy as a castle, but its interior was unexpectedly comfortable: broad floor-to-ceiling windows, a bright reception hall, and warm corridors and rooms—and in the air there was not the slightest trace of the damp, decaying smell common to castles. This was truly an astonishing thing.

Most of the walls here were painted a spotless white, and bright mana-crystal lamps lit every corner of the building as though they cost nothing at all. In fact, not only within Xuanyuan Castle—ever since he had entered the Cecil domain, the number of mana-crystal lamps Padrick had seen exceeded the total he had seen in the first half of his life.

Heaven only knew how this newly established frontier domain had managed such a thing. In the space of a few short months, neat rows of brick-and-tile houses had risen here, broad straight streets had been laid out, and docks, mills, and sawmills stood complete. And among all these things, the most eye-catching were those mana-crystal lamps lit just as dusk approached, arrayed in rows along both sides of the roads and before the front doors of common dwellings—not to illuminate the lord's mansion, but to light the places where the common people lived!

Padrick had originally thought that the Kant domain's achievement in getting half its people to light oil lamps after nightfall was already a remarkable feat, but seeing the brightly lit Cecil domain after dark, he felt that the town he knew had in an instant gone dim and colorless.

Just how rich was the Cecil domain? Had they hired dozens or even a hundred formal mages solely to charge the street lamps before the commoners' doors?

And what was the meaning of this inconceivable speed of construction? What of the engineering projects that continued without pause even through winter? And what of those commoners strolling freely about the domain, talking and laughing loudly, who did not tremble with fear at the sight of patrol soldiers? And what were those large structures that gave off strange sounds and were called factories?

This domain seemed shrouded in countless mysteries, yet Padrick did not dare probe deeper. He knew the master of this land; he knew the origins of that Archduke Gao Yang Cecil—a legend who had lived through the Gondor period and the Second Expansion, who was said to have reached a secret agreement with the four elemental lords and to be on close terms with the royal lines of elves and dwarves. Such a figure seemed to Padrick to be something "beyond human," and even if he had borrowed the power of the elemental lords to build this domain, Padrick would have found nothing wrong with it—but if a small man like himself were to wag his tongue too much on such matters, then the trouble would indeed be great.

As Padrick adjusted his cravat for the fourth time, that little maid who looked so dull-witted came up again and, for what must have been the umpteenth time, filled the teacup on the round table: "Sir, tea."

"Oh, oh, thank you." Padrick gave a gurgling hiccup, but this time he had learned his lesson and merely lifted the cup for a tiny sip. He had realized that the little maid before him was not deliberately making things difficult for him, nor was she probing him on the duke's orders; it was simply that she had probably never learned from a senior maid or a head maid how to receive guests. All she knew was to stand there woodenly filling the guest's cup again and again and then stare at him while he drank—but if the guest were too honest or overthought things, as he himself had half an hour ago, he might very well be drowned in tea.

"May I ask... does the duke know I am here?" Setting down the cup, Padrick looked cautiously at Betty.

The other party was merely a little maid, and in terms of status could not possibly compare with himself, a (former) advisor to a lord—but only a fool would make comparisons in such a simple way. It was true the girl was only a maid, but she was the duke's maid!

Then this "duke's maid" propped her chin on her finger and fell into a blank stare for a few seconds. After thinking hard, Betty shook her head: "I don't know!"

Padrick sighed and gave up on learning anything from Betty.

Just then, the door of the reception hall was finally pushed open, and a tall figure stood there, making Padrick, who had just finished sighing, spring to his feet by reflex.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Gao Cen said with a smile as he walked into the room. "I was inspecting the alchemy factory, and sorting the samples took a little time. Betty, have you poured tea for our guest?"

Betty raised the big teapot in her hand: "Poured tea!"

The moment Padrick heard the sound of water in that big teapot, he hiccuped by reflex...

Gao Cen was startled: why did this plump gentleman's hiccup have an echo?

He did not dwell on it, however; instead, he felt deeply gratified by the growth of his little maid. After giving the girl an approving smile, he looked at the somewhat nervous Mr. Padrick, whose hiccup came with an echo: "Philip highly praised you. When he came back to report last time, he mentioned that you had kept the finances of the Kant domain in perfect order—not only ensuring the supply of goods through winter, but also, even after the lord's death, holding steady the merchants who traded with the Kant domain, so that they would still do business with it in the coming year?"

"I only did what was my duty," Padrick said with a reserved nod. "I have always been responsible for dealing with the domain's merchant guilds and advising the lord in that regard. To my shame, though I am well versed in heraldry, grammar, and matters of etiquette, I have put more energy into money. That... is probably not very dignified."

"It is only truly undignified when you are good with money and yet dare not admit it," Gao Rong said. "I asked you here today precisely to discuss matters of money with you. I imagine you already know that?"

"Ah, yes, I saw your letter. Your domain has entered a stage of production, and so you wish to summon me to establish trade routes?" Padrick nodded. "Alchemical potions, is that it?"

"Correct—alchemical potions. But I must state beforehand that the way the Cecil domain produces and sells alchemical potions is probably quite different from what you imagine. I have an entirely new trade model, and I need you to help me build it and bring it to fruition."

"An entirely new trade model?" Padrick frowned, not knowing what Gao Yang meant. "You mean your cut as lord?"

"It is too troublesome to explain; you had better look at the materials directly." As he spoke, Gao Cen gestured for Hetty, who had followed at his side, to hand a not-very-thick booklet to Padrick. "This will tell you what a 'new trade model' means."