"And I also need some cashmere shawls and coats, two gold coins per shawl, and seven gold coins per coat."
"Make twenty shawls and ten coats first," Barton calculated quickly. A bolt of fabric required fifteen pounds of cashmere, so fifty bolts would need nearly eight hundred pounds. Cashmere was cheap, and eight hundred pounds would only cost fifty silver coins. A cashmere sweater for ten silver coins, one a day, three years would be a hundred gold coins. Adding the shawls and coats, it totaled over two hundred gold coins. Deducting costs, he could net two hundred gold coins, which was two million copper coins. Two million! Two million was enough to buy four large houses with gardens in the capital of Collins!
Barton calculated with trembling hands. His shop's annual net income was only twenty gold coins, and a worker's daily wage was seventy copper coins. This was astronomical—a single deal could earn ten years' worth of money! Barton's breathing grew heavy; he couldn't believe his ears.
"Miss Lilith, is this true? You'll really pay us that price?" Even if her formula was worthless, he could still profit from the high price.
"I always keep my word," Lilith leaned back. "However, I have two conditions."
"Please, go ahead." Barton now saw Lilith as a deity of wealth; he hung on her every word.
"First, you must strictly follow the formula I provide. If you can't do that, our cooperation ends."
"Second, the price I offer is exclusive. The cashmere products made with my formula can only be sold to me. You cannot sell them to anyone else or disclose my formula, even if I leave Siria."
Lilith's negotiating presence was powerful, emanating a chilling intensity that made Barton break into a sweat. "Of course, that's understandable." Barton wiped his forehead, thinking that nobles truly were different. The aura alone made him feel like kneeling. He understood Lilith's demands. The formula was her family's, the money was hers; he was merely acting as her private tailor for a while. Nobles always kept the best for themselves.
"Good, since Mr. Harkins agreed so readily, I'll trust you with the formula," Lilith said with a slight smile. "As Balk's father, I believe in your integrity."
Barton glanced at Balk, giving him a "well done" look. Balk puffed up with pride, though he scratched his head, wondering why Lilith trusted him so much after just meeting him today.
Lilith handed over the carefully transcribed sheepskin scroll. "If there's anything you don't understand, ask me now. Once you're sure you can produce the fabric, we'll draft a contract and I'll pay the deposit."
Balk unrolled the sheepskin and read it breathlessly. The scroll contained detailed instructions and illustrations, making it clear and easy to understand. The formula filled three sheets of sheepskin. The first detailed how to process raw wool into soft, white wool using complex methods he had never heard of. The second described how to spin cashmere into threads as fine as yarn, using tools he had never seen. The third detailed several weaving techniques to produce fabrics of different thicknesses and patterns.
This wasn't just a formula; it was an entire textile manual! Each process alone could make them rich.
Barton looked at Lilith, overwhelmed and incoherent. "This, such a valuable formula, you really trust me with it? Aren't you afraid I'll steal it?"
Lilith leaned back in her chair, looking bored. "To me, it's just a few sheets of paper. Besides, it only contains basic information. Even if it gets lost, it won't harm me much."
"Mr. Harkins, you're a businessman. You should understand what's most beneficial."
Barton nodded vigorously. "Rest assured, Harkins' shop will not disappoint you."
Lilith smiled warmly. "Mr. Harkins, you are trustworthy." She stood, straightening her dress. "It's getting late. Contact me once you've made the fabric samples."
"I'll make them as quickly as possible," Barton promised, rising to see them out.
"I look forward to it. Goodbye, Mr. Harkins." Lilith and Winnie left together, leaving Balk at home.
"Father, why does Miss Lilith need us to make her clothes? Can't she just have her servants send them?"
"What do you know," Barton scolded. "A noble like Miss Lilith won't use piled-up daily fabrics. She needs a new outfit every day. Do you think her servants can deliver daily?"
"If her estate is far away, delivering clothes would be very costly. She's a noble, not a fool."
Balk hung his head, chastened.
Seeing his son's dejection, Barton softened and sighed. "My son, as merchants, we must respect those who bring us business, regardless of their reasons."
Balk looked up. "I understand, father. Respect her decisions, as she is our most esteemed client!"
Barton patted his head. "Not just a client, but a benefactor. This formula alone is invaluable."
Balk nodded thoughtfully.
"By the way, that Miss Chali is your classmate?"
"Yes, we're in the same class."
"Thank her properly. Stay close to her; she's smarter than you." Barton's eyes gleamed with ambition.
"Yes, Winnie is very smart. She ranks in the top ten."
Barton shook his head, returning to study the formula.
That night, under the full moon, Lilith lay in bed, unable to sleep. She had given away the wool weaving formula. Though the improved machines couldn't be made quickly, the woolen cloth could be produced with current tools to make a sample. If Harkins' shop worked overnight, they could produce a sample in three days, just in time for her Horsemanship class.
However, she wasn't sure if Barton would follow her lead. If he wasn't impressed by the sample's quality, her plan would fall apart. She couldn't afford the hundred gold coin deposit, even if she could, she wouldn't pay it. She was here to make money, not spend it. It all depended on whether Barton played along.
Scenes from the day flashed through Lilith's mind: her answers in the Magic Runes class, her conversation with Athena, meeting Winnie and Balk, and negotiating with Barton. She realized she had made a mistake—her attitude towards others had been too arrogant.