novelraw Chapter 354 Mist Empire’s Rise- 352: The Silk Business
Chapter 354 Mist Empire’s Rise- 352: The Silk Business
Mist Empire's Rise-Chapter 352: The Silk Business
What Barton said made sense, but Luo Wei smiled and shook her head.
"Mr. Hawkins, if I were a customer and you put a two-hundred-gold silk vest and ten-gold handkerchiefs in front of me, I'd spend fifty gold to buy five handkerchiefs, pull some threads from them, and sew my own vest."
Fabric wasn't like jewels. Cut a jewel and you couldn't fix it. But fabric? You could stitch pieces together.
Once silk had functions beyond comfort and beauty, its value changed. It went from clothing to body armor or magical tool.
Normal people wouldn't spend a thousand gold on silk clothes. But people buying it for protection would choose the most economical option.
Fabric was consumable. No matter how tough, it would wear out eventually.
Plus silk regenerated fast. Compared to gems taking millions of years to form, silk's regeneration time was nothing.
Anyone who knew this wouldn't spend too much on silk.
The most expensive things were always purely decorative. Beyond that, they either stored wealth or displayed status—otherwise they weren't worth much.
To consistently sell silk at high prices, she needed to return to luxury essentials: emphasize "beauty" and "scarcity."
After thinking, Luo Wei said, "Handkerchiefs and scarves won't be sold separately. Only customers who buy shawls or gowns get two complimentary handkerchiefs."
"Silk is hard to come by—it requires magical cultivation. The price shouldn't be low."
Tim and Barton gaped. This silk was cultivated with magic? No wonder it was so beautiful and tough.
Anything touched by magic was out of reach for ordinary people.
Miss Luo Wei wasn't selling cheap handkerchiefs—they completely agreed. Such material cut into little handkerchiefs would be wasteful. Just use scraps from making clothes.
Luo Wei continued, "Silk shawls are three hundred gold coins each. Silk nightgowns are five hundred. Limited production, limited sales."
"Cloaks and capes won't be sold—I'll wear those."
"Outer gowns won't be custom orders. Only three sold per year, and only customers who've bought nightgowns can bid. We'll send invitations, tell them starting price is a thousand gold, and sell to the highest bidder."
Barton and Tim listened with racing hearts. Only three per year, only returning customers, sold through bidding—what a scene that would be!
Just imagine: all the great nobles and wealthy merchants gathering together, competing for those three dresses.
The ultimate status display. Whoever bought the dress would be envied by everyone.
Great families needed to show their wealth occasionally or people would forget them. Anyone wanting status couldn't miss this opportunity.
"Miss Luo Wei truly has vision! We merchants are shortsighted. We'll do everything as you say!" Barton gushed.
Tim: ...Just call yourself shortsighted. Don't drag me in. Not all merchants are as fawning as you.
Still, a young woman with ideas like this definitely had skill.
Tim thought confidently that if Miss Luo Wei really knew business, she'd know who to choose for selling silk.
When it came to selling, traveling merchants beat shopkeepers. Hawkins Shop was just small-time in Siria. Did he have guts to deal with great nobles?
Luxury goods like silk—that needed someone like Tim!
Both men stared eagerly at Luo Wei, waiting for her answer so they could make a fortune.
Luo Wei took in their expressions. She lowered her eyes and smiled, paused, then looked up, her gaze sweeping past Tim to land on Barton.
"Mr. Hawkins, if I entrust silk weaving and sales to you, can you cut the threads? We can't leave loose ends."
Barton's face flushed. At first he really didn't have a way, but hadn't dared tell Luo Wei, afraid she'd think he couldn't handle it.
Later his son Balke and classmate Winnie had helped cut the silk threads on the loom.
But they were busy with final exams lately, practicing swordsmanship daily. He didn't want to take up their time.
Before boxing the silk sample, he'd thought about trimming it, but shop workers broke three scissors trying, so he'd sent it as is.
But once Balke finished exams, it would be fine. Balke wasn't cut out for magic anyway. When Barton sent him to the academy, he never expected him to become a mage—just hoped he'd make noble friends.
Now that Balke accomplished that, Barton decided to have him drop out and come back to manage the family business, working under Miss Luo Wei.
Barton told Luo Wei his plan. "Once Balke drops out, I'll have him help at the textile mill. He's a swordsman apprentice with great strength. I'll get him enchanted scissors, and he'll definitely handle cutting silk!"
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Luo Wei studied Barton's expression and realized he wasn't joking. Her mood became complicated.
"Mr. Hawkins, magic apprenticeships aren't easy. Balke only has one year until graduation. Business isn't urgent—let him focus on studies."
Having Balke drop out over something trivial would be penny-wise and pound-foolish.
When war broke out across the West, no amount of gold would matter without combat power to protect it.
Balke becoming a swordsman would be much safer than becoming just a merchant.
Barton changed tune quickly. "Miss Luo Wei is right. He should finish school. The academy is close—he can help without dropping out. My brain didn't turn the corner there. Look at my pig brain!"
He smacked his head with a rueful expression.
A faint smile appeared on Luo Wei's face. She nodded. "I'm glad you see it that way, Mr. Hawkins."
Barton asked urgently, "Miss Luo Wei, then the silk business..."
"I'll leave it to you," Luo Wei said readily.
"Thank you, Miss Luo Wei! Thank you! You can count on me—I'll weave the most beautiful silk!" Barton was overjoyed, smile stretching ear to ear.
Tim's face turned ugly. He never imagined Luo Wei would give both weaving and sales entirely to this fawning old merchant!
He'd thought she'd only let Barton handle weaving at most. But she gave him sales too!
What about him? He got nothing?
Shocked and furious, Tim blurted, "No! I don't agree!"
Luo Wei and Barton looked over in surprise, both thinking: Why does this need his agreement?
Tim looked at Luo Wei anxiously. "I traveled all this way to Siria just to discuss business with you. If you only wanted him, why call me here?"
He'd wasted nearly half a month traveling. Who was covering those losses?
Luo Wei leaned back, attitude cold. "Mr. Swift, I called you to discuss the porcelain order issue. Nothing to do with silk."
"Besides, you know perfectly well why I called you. Do I need to remind you again about the trouble you caused in the Holy City?"
"I..." Tim choked, then said defiantly, "You said you'd sell me white porcelain for one gold coin each, and you didn't care how much I sold them for. It's written clearly in the contract. How is this trouble I caused? You're breaking the contract. I can refuse!"
"Me, breaking the contract?" Luo Wei laughed coldly. "Looks like you still don't realize how serious this is."
"If I'd known you were so ungrateful, I shouldn't have covered for you when Prince Alfried asked. I saved your life, and now it's my fault."
"Go ahead—take the contract to the Church. Tell them the porcelain they bought for a thousand gold only cost me one gold to source."
Luo Wei's gaze was icy. "You'd better go right now. And if you don't, I'll find people to help you out—spread word about your good deeds in the Holy City. Let the world know what an amazing businessman Tim Swift is."
Tim's face went from red to white. If people found out, probably no one in the entire West would dare buy from him again. And those petty bastards in the Church definitely wouldn't let him off.
He mumbled, knowing he was wrong but unable to apologize, his body growing stiffer.
But Luo Wei wasn't finished. "You did something wrong. I helped you. You're neither grateful nor remorseful. Someone like you—I don't dare get close to."
"As you said, I'm breaking the porcelain contract. We don't need to discuss that business anymore. I'll compensate you double the deposit. Go find Manager Teresa tomorrow to collect it."
"Bella, show him out."
"Yes, Master!" Bella immediately set down the wooden box, bowed slightly, and gestured toward the door. "Mr. Swift, please!"
Tim looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean..."
"Mr. Swift, please!" Bella said loudly.
Tim was forced to stand. He looked pleadingly at Luo Wei, but she'd already looked away and ignored him completely.
"Mr. Swift, please don't make this difficult for me," Bella reminded him for the third time.
Tim felt utterly humiliated. With no choice, he left.
Luo Wei was looking at the blank parchment. She pulled a quill from her spatial ring, thought for a few seconds, then bent down and wrote a line.
"Mr. Hawkins, take a look. If there's no problem, use these numbers to draft a detailed contract when you get back."
She raised her hand. Barton quickly took the parchment, unrolled it, and was so excited his hands trembled.
Twenty percent! Twenty percent profit!
Miss Luo Wei was giving him twenty percent!
"Miss Luo Wei, isn't this—isn't this too much?" Barton, who'd already lowered his expectations, looked at the words with a floating feeling.
He was only handling weaving and sales, yet getting twenty percent profit. And the machines in his mill had only improved thanks to blueprints Miss Luo Wei provided. Taking this much—what had he done to deserve it?
Barton gripped the parchment tightly, expression conflicted. "Miss Luo Wei, you're providing all the silk. Even ten percent would be too much for me. How about..."
He really couldn't bring himself to say the words about cutting his own profit in half.
Twenty percent was too tempting. If he sold something for a thousand gold, he'd get two hundred. Cut that in half and he'd lose a hundred gold coins. That was a hundred gold coins!
Barton was so conflicted his features twisted. He stammered but couldn't get those last words out.
Luo Wei made the decision for him. "Mr. Hawkins, keep it. This twenty percent is what you deserve. What you need to do isn't simple."
She pointed at the wooden box Bella had placed on the table. "This fabric doesn't only have one plain weave. There's also twill, satin, and combined variations. Different weaving methods produce silk with different appearances."
"To make it worth its price, you'll also need to improve the looms and hire more weavers. They'll need long-term training before they can weave silk with more complex, gorgeous patterns."
"Plain silk alone is too monotonous. You need to produce all seven types: ling, luo, chou, duan, zhou, juan, and rong."
"Plus garment design, cutting, decoration, sewing, and sales—you'll handle all of it. Twenty percent really isn't much."
Barton's heart swelled with emotion. Miss Luo Wei was always so kind and generous, always thinking of others.
She said he had a lot to do, but he'd learn so much more from her!
How to improve looms, how to train weavers, plus weaving methods for those seven fabrics and guidance on garment design—weren't these priceless treasures he'd receive from Miss Luo Wei?
By rights, he should pay tuition to learn these skills. But Miss Luo Wei was not only teaching him for free—she was also giving him twenty percent profit!
Put himself in her shoes, even Barton wouldn't be willing to give away something so precious.
Only someone like Miss Luo Wei, a noble like her, would treat a merchant like him with such courtesy. Other nobles didn't just scrape three layers off him—they made him hand over money on his knees.
Barton had lived most of his life. As a businessman, he'd welcomed and seen off countless people. But he'd never met anyone like Luo Wei.
Her eyes were like a mirror. Whatever you were, that's what reflected back. People were people, things were things. No distortion.
But other people, especially nobles who prided themselves on bloodlines—in their eyes, some people were people, but others were livestock.
And some weren't even livestock. Just grass, just stones. They'd kick them when unhappy, and kick them when happy too.
Nobles, commoners, slaves. Those in high positions couldn't see the joys and sorrows of those below—or if they saw, they didn't care.
Even Barton himself looked down on street beggars and field serfs.
Living long enough, he'd grown numb too. Meeting Luo Wei was his great fortune—she'd jolted him awake from his muddled state and reminded him that he was a person.
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