Chapter 85: Welcome
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Chapter 85: Welcome
Ha! You!
Was it necessary for him to mention the late Emperor?
But since Ian had already made such a move, Count Merellof found himself without a proper response. He just kept tugging at his beard, groaning in frustration.
And to think, it dies if it touches snow? I seem to recall seeing Grula in winter, what a tricky crop. It grows in water and sand, but snow is its bane.
There were no greenhouses in Merellofs territory. They hadnt focused on farming, so there was no preparation for winter crops. If Ians words were true, they needed to buy Grula immediately and start greenhouse operations while cultivating it.
Thirty coins.
I apologize.
Thirty-one coins!
Count.
Consider the days ahead. How much time do we have to live as lords? Lets stop here. Burying each others faults is the true posture of a noble. Thirty-two coins.
He even made threats with elegance. Ian had set a somewhat high price of fifty coins because he knew the count would try to halve it.
Just as Romandro seemed to be waiting for the right moment, he coughed, signaling his subordinate outside to interject.
Knock knock.
Lord Ian, Lord Romandro. I have a report for you.
Oh? Is it urgent? We have guests.
Sorry. Itll just take a moment.
Oh, excuse us then.
This was a strategy to diffuse the heated atmosphere and give the countess a chance to persuade the count. She whispered to the count, her expression showing deep concern.
Creak.
As Ian and Romandro stepped out of the reception room, the countess raised her voice slightly and frowned.
Fifty coins each would total 5,000 gold coins.
Madness. 5,000 gold coins for weeds.
But this year is a bit unusual. We have to save our territory as soon as possible. I heard that Bratz is temporarily rationing and then planning to collect higher taxes next year.
The dead cant be brought back to life. That was one thing she was certain of. The countess subtly prodded the count.
Whats the maximum youre thinking per bag?
Ideally, not even a single gold coin.
No, I mean realistically.
Realistically, she was asking what would be an acceptable compromise between Ian and the count. The count twisted his beard, clearly displeased with the situation.
About thirty-five coins.
Hmm. Thirty-five coins.
The countess echoed his words, pretending to ponder. Her next move was predictable.
Do you think Ian would agree to that? He seemed determined to hold his ground.
That boy, getting greedy. Tsk tsk. Living like that wont get him far.
In my opinion, settling around forty coins might be better. As you said, if it snows, the price could rise even more. Then it wont just be about the price but the availability itself
The countesss concerns were valid. Things had become increasingly complicated, leading to this point. They might have thought there was no way back, but theres always a deeper bottom.
Between forty and thirty-five coins. If the negotiation goes in that range, it would be best to seal the deal immediately.
Hmm.
Perhaps ask for half of the Grula to be small seeds for cultivation and the other half to be larger for consumption?
Half would be for planting, so it made sense to fill the bags with as many small seeds as possible. The other half, meant for eating, would be better if they were larger. The count sipped his now lukewarm tea, murmuring in contemplation.
Hah~. Alright.
This was it. A sigh, conceding as if there was no other choice. Ian smiled lightly, as if to say he was completely yielding.
Thirty-five gold coins per bag, for 100 bags. A total of 3,500 gold coins.
Good. Youve made the right decision. Lets draft the contract.
As Ian and the count shook hands, Romandro brought out the pre-drafted standard contract. It was ten pages long, but most of it was standard clauses used among nobility, with key points only on the first and last pages.
Clink.
The count meticulously examined each word of the contract. Unbuttoning his overcoat indicated that this process would take some time.
Here where it says fresh, lets change it to one week after harvest. Is that okay?
Yes, but please add that this may vary depending on the harvest schedule.
Understood. Bring me a new sheet of paper.
Here it is, Count.
Rip!
Modifications continued in this fashion.
Torn drafts of the contract littered the floor at his feet. Ian and Romandro took turns dealing with him. The countess, unable to hold back any longer, tapped her waist impatiently.
Are you tired, madam?
Oh. Sorry. That was rude of me.
Not at all. Since this might take longer, perhaps you would prefer to rest in another room?
Ian asked, glancing at the count, who remained fixated on the contract.
Honey. Are you listening?
Do what you like. Just dont bother me.
The countess didnt seem offended; rather, she appeared grateful for his indifference. Ian, leaving the count to Romandro, stood up to accompany her.
Madam, allow me to show you out. I could use some fresh air myself.
At his words, the counts eyes followed Ians back. Why is he personally escorting her instead of a servant? His jealousy surged like reverse-flowing blood, but he was a nobleman. He couldnt disgrace himself in front of an imperial advisor.
Count?
Ah, sorry. Say that again?
If we modify clause 3.3, we also need to adjust clause 5.1 at the back for consistency. Shall we do that?
Um, yes. Lets do that.
Creak.
The countess leaned against the wall in the corridor and sighed deeply.
Youve worked hard, madam.
And Clark?
Hes probably the luckiest in the mansion. Just staying in his room, eating whats brought to him.
Although they said they werent in a relationship, the first person she asked about after escaping the counts radar was Clark. Ian gestured for her to follow him.
If you wish, I could offer my arm for support.
Thats alright. Its just my waist thats sore from the corset, my legs are fine.
She walked gracefully, holding the hem of her dress with poise. Ian wondered if she had more bruises from that night but chose not to ask. Bringing up wounds, in any form, can be painful just by the mere mention.
Instead, he subtly shifted the conversation.
Have you ever seen Count Merellofs brother?
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 85: Welcome
Ha! You!
Was it necessary for him to mention the late Emperor?
But since Ian had already made such a move, Count Merellof found himself without a proper response. He just kept tugging at his beard, groaning in frustration.
And to think, it dies if it touches snow? I seem to recall seeing Grula in winter, what a tricky crop. It grows in water and sand, but snow is its bane.
There were no greenhouses in Merellofs territory. They hadnt focused on farming, so there was no preparation for winter crops. If Ians words were true, they needed to buy Grula immediately and start greenhouse operations while cultivating it.
Thirty coins.
I apologize.
Thirty-one coins!
Count.
Consider the days ahead. How much time do we have to live as lords? Lets stop here. Burying each others faults is the true posture of a noble. Thirty-two coins.
He even made threats with elegance. Ian had set a somewhat high price of fifty coins because he knew the count would try to halve it.
Just as Romandro seemed to be waiting for the right moment, he coughed, signaling his subordinate outside to interject.
Knock knock.
Lord Ian, Lord Romandro. I have a report for you.
Oh? Is it urgent? We have guests.
Sorry. Itll just take a moment.
Oh, excuse us then.
This was a strategy to diffuse the heated atmosphere and give the countess a chance to persuade the count. She whispered to the count, her expression showing deep concern.
Creak.
As Ian and Romandro stepped out of the reception room, the countess raised her voice slightly and frowned.
Fifty coins each would total 5,000 gold coins.
Madness. 5,000 gold coins for weeds.
But this year is a bit unusual. We have to save our territory as soon as possible. I heard that Bratz is temporarily rationing and then planning to collect higher taxes next year.
The dead cant be brought back to life. That was one thing she was certain of. The countess subtly prodded the count.
Whats the maximum youre thinking per bag?
Ideally, not even a single gold coin.
No, I mean realistically.
Realistically, she was asking what would be an acceptable compromise between Ian and the count. The count twisted his beard, clearly displeased with the situation.
About thirty-five coins.
Hmm. Thirty-five coins.
The countess echoed his words, pretending to ponder. Her next move was predictable.
Do you think Ian would agree to that? He seemed determined to hold his ground.
That boy, getting greedy. Tsk tsk. Living like that wont get him far.
In my opinion, settling around forty coins might be better. As you said, if it snows, the price could rise even more. Then it wont just be about the price but the availability itself
The countesss concerns were valid. Things had become increasingly complicated, leading to this point. They might have thought there was no way back, but theres always a deeper bottom.
Between forty and thirty-five coins. If the negotiation goes in that range, it would be best to seal the deal immediately.
Hmm.
Perhaps ask for half of the Grula to be small seeds for cultivation and the other half to be larger for consumption?
Half would be for planting, so it made sense to fill the bags with as many small seeds as possible. The other half, meant for eating, would be better if they were larger. The count sipped his now lukewarm tea, murmuring in contemplation.
Hah~. Alright.
This was it. A sigh, conceding as if there was no other choice. Ian smiled lightly, as if to say he was completely yielding.
Thirty-five gold coins per bag, for 100 bags. A total of 3,500 gold coins.
Good. Youve made the right decision. Lets draft the contract.
As Ian and the count shook hands, Romandro brought out the pre-drafted standard contract. It was ten pages long, but most of it was standard clauses used among nobility, with key points only on the first and last pages.
Clink.
The count meticulously examined each word of the contract. Unbuttoning his overcoat indicated that this process would take some time.
Here where it says fresh, lets change it to one week after harvest. Is that okay?
Yes, but please add that this may vary depending on the harvest schedule.
Understood. Bring me a new sheet of paper.
Here it is, Count.
Rip!
Modifications continued in this fashion.
Torn drafts of the contract littered the floor at his feet. Ian and Romandro took turns dealing with him. The countess, unable to hold back any longer, tapped her waist impatiently.
Are you tired, madam?
Oh. Sorry. That was rude of me.
Not at all. Since this might take longer, perhaps you would prefer to rest in another room?
Ian asked, glancing at the count, who remained fixated on the contract.
Honey. Are you listening?
Do what you like. Just dont bother me.
The countess didnt seem offended; rather, she appeared grateful for his indifference. Ian, leaving the count to Romandro, stood up to accompany her.
Madam, allow me to show you out. I could use some fresh air myself.
At his words, the counts eyes followed Ians back. Why is he personally escorting her instead of a servant? His jealousy surged like reverse-flowing blood, but he was a nobleman. He couldnt disgrace himself in front of an imperial advisor.
Count?
Ah, sorry. Say that again?
If we modify clause 3.3, we also need to adjust clause 5.1 at the back for consistency. Shall we do that?
Um, yes. Lets do that.
Creak.
The countess leaned against the wall in the corridor and sighed deeply.
Youve worked hard, madam.
And Clark?
Hes probably the luckiest in the mansion. Just staying in his room, eating whats brought to him.
Although they said they werent in a relationship, the first person she asked about after escaping the counts radar was Clark. Ian gestured for her to follow him.
If you wish, I could offer my arm for support.
Thats alright. Its just my waist thats sore from the corset, my legs are fine.
She walked gracefully, holding the hem of her dress with poise. Ian wondered if she had more bruises from that night but chose not to ask. Bringing up wounds, in any form, can be painful just by the mere mention.
Instead, he subtly shifted the conversation.
Have you ever seen Count Merellofs brother?
Chapter 85: WelcomeHa! You!Was it necessary for him to mention the late Emperor?But since Ian had already made such a move, Count Merellof found himself without a proper response. He just kept tugging at his beard, groaning in frustration.And to think, it dies if it touches snow? I seem to recall seeing Grula in winter, what a tricky crop. It grows in water and sand, but snow is its bane.There were no greenhouses in Merellofs territory. They hadnt focused on farming, so there was no preparation for winter crops. If Ians words were true, they needed to buy Grula immediately and start greenhouse operations while cultivating it.Thirty coins.I apologize.Thirty-one coins!Count.Consider the days ahead. How much time do we have to live as lords? Lets stop here. Burying each others faults is the true posture of a noble. Thirty-two coins.He even made threats with elegance. Ian had set a somewhat high price of fifty coins because he knew the count would try to halve it.Just as Romandro seemed to be waiting for the right moment, he coughed, signaling his subordinate outside to interject.Knock knock.Lord Ian, Lord Romandro. I have a report for you.Oh? Is it urgent? We have guests.Sorry. Itll just take a moment.Oh, excuse us then.This was a strategy to diffuse the heated atmosphere and give the countess a chance to persuade the count. She whispered to the count, her expression showing deep concern.Creak.As Ian and Romandro stepped out of the reception room, the countess raised her voice slightly and frowned.Fifty coins each would total 5,000 gold coins.Madness. 5,000 gold coins for weeds.But this year is a bit unusual. We have to save our territory as soon as possible. I heard that Bratz is temporarily rationing and then planning to collect higher taxes next year.The dead cant be brought back to life. That was one thing she was certain of. The countess subtly prodded the count.Whats the maximum youre thinking per bag?Ideally, not even a single gold coin.No, I mean realistically.Realistically, she was asking what would be an acceptable compromise between Ian and the count. The count twisted his beard, clearly displeased with the situation.About thirty-five coins.Hmm. Thirty-five coins.The countess echoed his words, pretending to ponder. Her next move was predictable.Do you think Ian would agree to that? He seemed determined to hold his ground.That boy, getting greedy. Tsk tsk. Living like that wont get him far.In my opinion, settling around forty coins might be better. As you said, if it snows, the price could rise even more. Then it wont just be about the price but the availability itselfThe countesss concerns were valid. Things had become increasingly complicated, leading to this point. They might have thought there was no way back, but theres always a deeper bottom.Between forty and thirty-five coins. If the negotiation goes in that range, it would be best to seal the deal immediately.Hmm.Perhaps ask for half of the Grula to be small seeds for cultivation and the other half to be larger for consumption?Half would be for planting, so it made sense to fill the bags with as many small seeds as possible. The other half, meant for eating, would be better if they were larger. The count sipped his now lukewarm tea, murmuring in contemplation.Hah~. Alright.This was it. A sigh, conceding as if there was no other choice. Ian smiled lightly, as if to say he was completely yielding.Thirty-five gold coins per bag, for 100 bags. A total of 3,500 gold coins.Good. Youve made the right decision. Lets draft the contract.As Ian and the count shook hands, Romandro brought out the pre-drafted standard contract. It was ten pages long, but most of it was standard clauses used among nobility, with key points only on the first and last pages.Clink.The count meticulously examined each word of the contract. Unbuttoning his overcoat indicated that this process would take some time.Here where it says fresh, lets change it to one week after harvest. Is that okay?Yes, but please add that this may vary depending on the harvest schedule.Understood. Bring me a new sheet of paper.Here it is, Count.Rip!Modifications continued in this fashion.Torn drafts of the contract littered the floor at his feet. Ian and Romandro took turns dealing with him. The countess, unable to hold back any longer, tapped her waist impatiently.Are you tired, madam?Oh. Sorry. That was rude of me.Not at all. Since this might take longer, perhaps you would prefer to rest in another room?Ian asked, glancing at the count, who remained fixated on the contract.Honey. Are you listening?Do what you like. Just dont bother me.The countess didnt seem offended; rather, she appeared grateful for his indifference. Ian, leaving the count to Romandro, stood up to accompany her.Madam, allow me to show you out. I could use some fresh air myself.At his words, the counts eyes followed Ians back. Why is he personally escorting her instead of a servant? His jealousy surged like reverse-flowing blood, but he was a nobleman. He couldnt disgrace himself in front of an imperial advisor.Count?Ah, sorry. Say that again?If we modify clause 3.3, we also need to adjust clause 5.1 at the back for consistency. Shall we do that?Um, yes. Lets do that.Creak.The countess leaned against the wall in the corridor and sighed deeply.Youve worked hard, madam.And Clark?Hes probably the luckiest in the mansion. Just staying in his room, eating whats brought to him.Although they said they werent in a relationship, the first person she asked about after escaping the counts radar was Clark. Ian gestured for her to follow him.If you wish, I could offer my arm for support.Thats alright. Its just my waist thats sore from the corset, my legs are fine.She walked gracefully, holding the hem of her dress with poise. Ian wondered if she had more bruises from that night but chose not to ask. Bringing up wounds, in any form, can be painful just by the mere mention.Instead, he subtly shifted the conversation.Have you ever seen Count Merellofs brother?
