Chapter 85. Rien and the Wind

"Ha! You!"

Is this something that even concerns His Majesty the Emperor?

But since he took the initiative, there was no proper way to retort. Count Mereloff could only pull at his beard and groan.

'Besides, it's said that touching it can be fatal? I remember seeing gula even in winter. There's no better weed. It grows in water and sand, but it's poison in the snow.'

The Mereloff estate had no greenhouses. They had never focused on farming, so they were completely unprepared for winter crops. If Ian's words were true, they needed to buy gula immediately and start greenhouse construction.

"Thirty coins."

"I'm sorry."

"Thirty-one coins!"

"My lord."

"You, think of your future. How long will you live as a lord? Let's settle here. It's the true noble's way to let bygones be bygones. Thirty-two coins."

He delivered even his unreasonable threats with utmost elegance. Ian had set the price at fifty coins, a somewhat high price, precisely because of this. He knew that Count Mereloff would try to haggle down to about half.

Just then, as if waiting for this moment, Romandro cleared his throat, and one of his subordinates outside intervened at the perfect timing.

Knock knock.

"Ian sir, Romandro sir. I have something to report."

"Is it urgent? We have guests."

"I'm sorry. It won't take long."

"Excuse me."

The atmosphere, which had become heated, was being cooled down. This was a strategy to give Lady Mereloff a chance to persuade the Count. She kept a serious expression, whispering something to the Count.

Creak.

As Ian and Romandro left the parlor, the lady raised her voice and frowned.

"Fifty coins, that's a total of 5,000 gold coins."

"You must be crazy. 5,000 gold coins for weeds?"

"But this year is special. We need to save the estate urgently. In Brats, they distributed temporary rations and then increased the tax for next year."

Once dead, you can't bring it back to life. She was certain of that. The lady subtly probed the Count.

"How much are you willing to pay per bundle at most?"

"Even one gold coin is too much."

"No, realistically, how much?"

Realistically, she was asking where the compromise between Ian and the Count might lie. The Count twisted his beard, clearly displeased with the situation.

"Thirty-five coins."

"Hmm. Thirty-five coins."

The lady pretended to ponder, repeating his words. If so, her next words were predetermined.

"Will Sir Ian really agree to that? From what I see, he seems determined to hold out for a good price."

"That's why, the young one is just greedy. He won't last long if he keeps this up."

"I think it's best to settle at forty coins. As they say, the price might rise when it snows. By then, it won't be about the price but the availability itself."

The lady's concerns were valid. Things had gone awry, leading to this situation. They thought they had no room to back down, but there was always a bottom.

"From forty to thirty-five coins. If the talks go between these, we should seal the deal immediately."

"Hmm."

"Instead, why don't we ask for half the seeds to be small and the other half to be large? Half for planting, packed tightly with small seeds, and half for eating, with larger ones."

The Count sipped his now lukewarm tea, sighing deeply.

"Hmm."

The lady continued her persuasion. The key was to ensure the deal went through at a reasonable price, rather than trying to get the lowest price for the gula.

Soon, Ian and Romandro returned to the parlor.

"I'm sorry. It took a bit longer to handle the matter."

"Cough. The tea has gone cold."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Hana!"

"Yes, my lord."

Count Mereloff cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation. The lady, looking troubled, rubbed her earlobe.

Clack.

The sound of her earrings and fingernails caught Ian's attention. She spread three fingers and then caressed all five. Ian, understanding the signal, sat down on the sofa.

'He said fifty, but thirty-five is the maximum.'

It was either a formidable challenge or the maximum the Mereloff estate could offer. Ian decided to trust the lady's cooperation.

'Not selling is worse. Besides, I need to deal with the people of the Mereloff estate, not just the Count.'

One hundred bundles, totaling 3,500 gold coins. It was almost a third of the tax due to the central government. Ian exchanged a glance with Romandro and began.

"Have you discussed the price?"

"Sir Ian. Fifty coins is too much. If we set the price like this, it sounds like you won't trade with us openly."

The lady lifted her chin and shot a sharp remark. The Count nodded solemnly, and Ian feigned a troubled expression.

"Alright. Then I'll add a condition."

"Condition? What kind?"

"I'll give you forty gold coins per bundle. In return, you must sign a pledge not to interfere with any economic activities in this estate in the future."

"…Not interfere with economic activities?"

The unexpected condition made Count Mereloff's eyes narrow suspiciously. The lady felt the same. They had been outmaneuvered, but they couldn't understand the hidden intent behind this condition.

"Is it unacceptable?"

"Not unacceptable, but…"

It was a rather significant condition.

The Count, seeing the warriors of the Thousand Clans passing in the corridor, guessed that Ian was trying to meddle with the border tribes. Was he planning to smuggle something out?

'A foolish condition. Even if we don't interfere, they can stop it by reporting to the central government. Tsk.'

But Ian saw through the Count's thoughts. The Count was good at hoarding money but lacked the ability to see deeper.

'He suspects the Thousand Clans. But he's wrong.'

A long, feigned silence followed. Romandro watched the two, and the lady broke the silence by lifting her teacup.

"Sir Ian, you are appointed by the Emperor, are you not? The economic rights of each estate are the autonomy of the lord. It's strange that you're making such a natural condition."

"Is it? If it's natural, there's no need to adjust the price."

The Count's eyes widened, and he glared at the lady. It was a silent warning to keep quiet if she didn't understand. The lady pretended to be embarrassed, but Ian saw through her act.

"Alright. I don't know how you view Mereloff, but ensuring each other's rights is natural. In return, you must promise not to object to Mereloff's economic activities. Let's settle at thirty coins."

"Lord, I said forty coins."

"Damn, alright. Thirty-one coins."

"Changing the leading digit twice is too much, isn't it, Lord?"

In the negotiation, where the upper limit was going down and the lower limit was going up, the midpoint between forty and thirty was set. After several rounds, Count Mereloff reached his limit first.

"Thirty-five! I can't go any lower."

Thirty-five coins. The price the lady had secretly told him. Ian crossed his arms and signaled to Romandro. It was a show to ensure a mutually satisfactory deal.

"Fine."

This was it. A sigh, a word of reluctant concession. Ian smiled lightly, as if giving in.

"Thirty-five gold coins per bundle, one hundred bundles. A total of 3,500 gold coins. Let's make the deal."

"Good. You've made a wise decision. Let's draft the contract."

As Ian and the Count shook hands, Romandro brought out the basic contract. It was ten pages long, but most of it was standard clauses for nobles, with only the first and last pages containing important details.

Clack.

The Count began to scrutinize each word carefully. His unbuttoned shirt suggested it would take a while.

"Let's change 'fresh' to 'one week after harvest.' Is that okay?"

"Hmm. As long as you add that it can vary depending on the harvest schedule."

"Understood. Bring new paper."

"Here, Lord."

Rip!

This went on, with the Count making changes and more changes. The revised contracts were scattered on the floor. As Ian and Romandro took turns dealing with him, the lady couldn't hold back and tapped her waist.

"Are you tired, Lady?"

"Oh, sorry. I was being rude."

"Not at all. Since it will take longer, why don't you rest in another room?"

Ian asked the Count, but he was focused on the contract.

"Dear, are you listening?"

"Handle it yourself. Don't bother me."

"..."

The lady didn't seem hurt and even smiled, grateful for his lack of interest. Ian left the Count to Romandro and stood up.

"Lady, let me show you. I need some fresh air too."

As he said this, the Count's eyes followed Ian. Serving himself? Why? Blood rushed to his head, and jealousy threatened to burst out, but the Count was a noble. He couldn't lose his composure in front of the Emperor's advisor.

"Lord?"

"Ah, sorry. Can you repeat that?"

"If we change Article 3, Section 3, we need to modify Article 5, Section 1 to maintain fairness. Shall we?"

"Hmm. Yes