xymnovel Chapter 103 Refined Salt Really Makes Money
Chapter 103 Refined Salt Really Makes Money
Chapter 103 Refined Salt Really Makes Money
Roger quickly nodded in agreement, then smoothly changed the subject, "How's cousin Owen? Has he learned a lot of knightly skills?"
""
Aunt stopped crying and scolded, "I get angry just thinking about your good-for-nothing cousin. He's just like you used to be."
Roger nearly choked to death on a mouthful of wine.
His aunt quickly picked up a linen cloth from the dining table and handed it to Roger, apologizing profusely.
Roger waved his hand, signaling to continue.
"Last month, he harassed the lord's maid. Your uncle personally brought generous gifts to the lord's house to apologize, which finally calmed the situation down."
"I didn't learn many skills, but I caused a lot of trouble."
After finishing her sentence, her aunt didn't want to continue the topic and changed the subject, asking, "Why did you think of bringing Louis here in this awful season? Look what you've done to him."
Roger was about to bring this up when he continued, "Aunt, Louis loves learning and has the talent of a wise man. I'm thinking of sending him to the University of Paris so that whether he becomes a scholar or a clergyman, he'll have a good background."
"7
My aunt was a discerning woman. She agreed with Roger's point of view and suggested that my uncle could arrange for Louis to study at the University of Paris. "It just so happens that your cousin's husband's family has some influence in Paris, so Louis won't be left without support while studying there..."
'
The aunt and niece chatted for a while longer before the steward led the young stable boy and the weakling back to the manor. The goods at the port had been handed over, and now all that was left was for Roger to finalize the accounts and sign off.
"—The goods you brought this time include 9,500 pounds of refined salt, 1,000 pounds of fine salt, 18 barrels of premium ale, 10 barrels of herring and cod, 30 deer hides, 5 bear hides, 50 mink pelts, 80 fox pelts, 400 pounds of salted beef, 600 pounds of salted fish, dried fruit..."
"7
"The fine salt and coarse salt were one and a half pennies and half pennies respectively, totaling sixty-one pounds, nine shillings and two pence; the ale and salted fish were four pounds; and the remaining northern furs, salted meats and mountain products were priced at sixteen pounds."
"Sir, the brown greige cloth you brought is quite dense, but most of the cloth in Ireland is fine fabric from the southern continent that is transshipped from England. The English have a ban on that. Here's what we'll do: four bolts of narrow cloth, totaling forty-eight yards, I'll take them at one shilling and five pence per yard. That price is already quite high."
Jeffrey's butler presented Roger with a detailed account book, saying, "The total price of this shipment is eighty-four pounds, seventeen shillings, and two pence. Please review and verify it before signing."
Roger took the ledger, glanced at it briefly, and handed it to the young stableman behind him. "Since I've put you in charge of the ledger, the right to sign it is yours."
The young stable boy accepted the ledger with both hands in surprise. This was not only a sign of trust but also a full affirmation of his abilities. The young stable boy felt his self-esteem greatly satisfied, his face turned red, and his hand trembled slightly as he signed.
After the goods list was signed, the remaining payment could only be made after Jeffrey returned; eighty pounds was no small sum.
After dinner, Roger declined his aunt's invitation to stay at the manor, leaving his frail brother Louis at the manor house. He then took a few attendants and some leftover food, and before nightfall, boarded a small boat and hurried back to the rocky island.
"...Sir, eighty-odd pounds! I never imagined a salt factory could make so much money."
"What do you mean by expanding our salt production after we get back? If we can produce 500 pounds of refined salt every day, wouldn't we earn nearly a thousand pounds a year? That's the entire annual income of the Isle of Arran!"
On the small boat, the excited young horseman kept chattering; he had certainly seen something new today.
Roger chuckled a few times. "Let's leave it at that for now. The saltworks can't expand production for the time being."
"Why? Refined salt is so profitable, how can you bear to give it up?"
Roger replied, "Because my strength doesn't allow it."
The young stable boy thought his master was acting strangely all the time. After muttering a few words, he suddenly became serious and said, "By the way, today the steward kept asking about how refined salt is made, whether intentionally or unintentionally. I think they must be trying to steal the secret technique."
Roger was not surprised to hear this. Everyone wanted to master the secret technique of making "white gold". "So we must keep it a secret and never let the salt making process be leaked. If everyone can make salt, then we will have no way to make money in the future, and the hundred or so people and craftsmen of Milk House Manor will starve to death."
"Remember, no outsider may approach the second saltworks without my permission, including the salt workers from the first saltworks."
After a moment of deep thought, Roger said seriously, "When you get back, remind all the salt workers and employees at the Second Saltworks that they must not utter a word about anything they see, hear, or do at the saltworks, not even in their sleep. If anyone dares to be so talkative as to leak secrets, they'll lose their head."
Roger's words were cold; this issue involved personal interests, so it was impossible for him not to be cold.
"In addition, after we return this time, I will increase the confidential salary for everyone at the Second Saltworks: one penny per week for ordinary salt workers, and two pennies per week for you and the two wounded technicians."
9
"I will send more guards to Holly Island when conditions are right."
As we approached the rocky islet, it was already dark. A few lanterns on the Sea Wolf, which was moored at the island's makeshift pier, swayed gently, revealing a vaguely visible figure patrolling back and forth on the deck.
Roger and his men jumped onto the dock pier, and immediately a commotion came from the Seawolf, followed by the creaking sound of Sergeant Connor drawing his bow.
"Night Order!" came the voice from the ponytail.
Roger was taken aback for a moment, then smiled. It seemed that the training he had received some time ago had been effective; at least his men knew how to set up passwords and codes when spending the night in dangerous areas.
Night raids were extremely rare in that era; with night blindness and the lack of lighting and positioning equipment, who would dare to launch a night raid? However, Roger himself was only a dabbler; he simply tried everything he could think of, letting practice test whether it was truth or fallacy.
"There is no wind tonight. I am Roger."
"There is no wind tonight, I am Marx and Engels."
Two familiar voices brought a sigh of relief to the crew on the Seawolf. Ponytail quickly ordered the gangplank to be lowered. "Sir, the Olaf brothers have taken Baldy and the others ashore for a rest. Connor and I will stay on board to keep watch."
Roger did not board the ship. Standing on the pier, he could vaguely see an armed sergeant and two crew members on each of the towers of the Seawolf, which was very reassuring. He had not specifically instructed Olaf to be on guard against pirates.
"Have you had dinner yet?" Roger asked.
"We ate some bread and beer with corned beef, and the Olaf brothers said they'd bring us some broth later."
Roger turned to the young stable boy behind him and said, "Take the packed food upstairs and distribute it to the men."
The young horseman, burping contentedly, and the weakling together carried the large cloth bag, still dripping with oil, onto the Seawolf. A group of people, drawn by the aroma, gathered around.