The Pride and Hope of a Weissenburg Resident

The salt was quickly unloaded from the ship. The carts here could carry twice as much cargo as elsewhere, and they moved quite fast while remaining perfectly stable.

There was a designated area by the dock for buying salt. The staff randomly selected a few barrels, took a measured volume of salt, placed it in a conical measuring cylinder, and added water until it was completely dissolved.

After the saltwater sat for a moment, the impurities settled at the bottom of the cylinder.

This batch of salt was of good quality, classified as Grade 1.

Since the wooden barrels were sold separately, it took some time to empty all the salt, weigh it, and repack it into other containers.

When signing the contract, the cargo owner pointed to a clause and asked, "What's this Stamp Duty all about? I've never heard of it anywhere else."

The intermediary brother immediately explained, "This is a type of transaction tax our young master invented after he took charge. You buy tax stamps proportional to the contract value and stick them on. If there's a lawsuit, the court will first recognize the contract with tax stamps as evidence."

"If you pay extra taxes, the tax bureau will keep the attached documents for anywhere from one month to fifty years. Even after the time limit, you can still check the registry book for the names of both parties, the type and quantity of goods traded, and the amount of money involved."

The cargo owner understood immediately and praised, "That's a great method! It makes lawsuits much easier."

"That's right," the intermediary brother said. "We don't have to argue as much when we collect our intermediary fees either."

Armand stood by, examining a tax stamp. It was a small piece of white cotton fabric printed with red roses and green vines, with the year and month below. It could be pasted onto parchment with paste.

He couldn't help but ponder. The tax rate for this Stamp Duty wasn't high, but the source was broad, and merchants were willing to pay it. The annual income must be considerable.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel curious about Frederick.

After selling the salt and barrels, they started to sell the beans.

As they reached the edge of the city, Armand suddenly noticed many children on the grass by the city wall.

The youngest of these children were just over three years old, and the oldest were nearly ten. They were gathered in groups of about a dozen on the grass, each group wearing hats of a different color. An adult was teaching each group how to recognize things, count, and sing nursery rhymes. The older children were also taught literacy and arithmetic.

Armand asked in surprise, "Whose children are they?"

The intermediary brother replied with a smile, "They are our children here. My little one is there too. Look, he's the one in the green clothes with the white hat trimmed in red."

Armand saw the child, who looked about five years old, putting his hands on his head with the others to mimic rabbit ears, singing, "Little rabbits jump and play on the grass, their big ears happily swaying to the rhythm."

A smile appeared on his face as he said, "That's quite interesting."

The intermediary brother chuckled and said, "A while ago, Lord Basf's newly opened workshop needed hands, so he planned to recruit some women to work."

"But many women had to stay home to look after their children, so Lord Basf came up with a solution. He had his fiancée build this kindergarten, so women could go out to work without having to stay home with their children."

"This spread quickly within a couple of days. My family discussed it and decided to send our child there too."

"My wife is a tailor. She didn't have much work when she was at home with the child. Now, we pay a little money to the kindergarten to look after the child, and she goes to the tailor shop to work. Our family earns several extra shiny silver coins a month."

"I drop the child off early in the morning and go to the dock. In the evening, my wife picks him up after she finishes work, and she buys some Steam Bread on the way home. When I get back, the soup is ready, and we can eat."

"Look, the building being constructed over there will be the kindergarten building in the future. For now, the children have to make do in the large tent."

"My little one won't be able to get into the new building, but I heard the young master is planning to open quite a few schools in the next two years. Children over six will go to learn writing, arithmetic, and so on."

"If they're promising, they can go to Weissenburg University to study magic. If not, they can go to the guild schools to learn a trade..."

Armand suddenly realized that the intermediary brother's rambling subtly revealed a hint of pride and hope for the future.

He was not unfamiliar with this. In the past, when he and his classmates at the military academy drank, boasted, and talked about their future lives, they were also this proud and full of hope for the future.

However, they were all children of nobles. His own father was a favored minister of the king, and his godfather was a Marshal of Gaul. The families of the others were equally wealthy and powerful, and they all had bright futures.

But what about this intermediary? For a commoner like him, who had no military power, no wealth, and no status, what did a bright future look like, and what was there to be proud of?

Armand couldn't understand.

The caravan carrying the chickpeas quickly arrived at the mill by the river. The intermediary brother went to find the mill manager and the cargo owner to discuss business. After inspecting the goods, they weighed them and signed the contract.

The unloaded carts were called away by another intermediary. Armand and the others walked towards the Yelena Trading Company not far away.

Armand paid special attention to the Waterwheels along the way and noticed they were turning particularly fast.

It was close to noon, and the weather was hot. Everyone was sweating.

"Yelena Trading Company" was the common name, but the sign at the main gate read "Yelena Sugar Refinery," with a white rabbit logo.

It looked a bit rudimentary here. The buildings were just put up, and many more were under construction inside.

It was very lively. The carts coming and going occupied the road, requiring someone to specifically direct traffic.

The building next to the main gate was an eye-opener for Armand. This row of wooden houses had no wall facing the street. Behind, near the river, were several Waterwheels. Inside, there were only pillars, with many tables and chairs where people were eating and talking. A section closer to the refinery had a counter with steam rising behind it.

None of this was the main point. The main point was the fans driven by waterwheels on the wall, blowing through a water curtain, bringing waves of cool air on the hot summer day.

After Armand and the others sat down, the intermediary brother called for a business representative from the refinery and brought several servings of "Ice Crystal."

"What is this?" Armand asked, looking at the cold, frosty powder. He had never seen this before.

After Frederick ate jelly, he developed Ice Crystal using Agar. Small pieces of Agar mixed with frozen Maltose water became the popular summer treat in Weissenburg.

The intermediary brother said, "It's too hot. This Ice Crystal cools you down and quenches your thirst. It's a good thing the young master invented."

Armand pointed to the refinery representative sitting opposite and asked, "Then why doesn't he have any?"

The representative smiled and shook his head, saying, "We have a rule that we cannot accept things offered by guests."

Armand nodded, scooped up a little with his spoon, and started eating.

Cool and sweet, with a unique texture that felt good. He had never eaten anything this interesting, not even in the royal palace.

Before he even finished the Ice Crystal, the deal to exchange chickpea flour for Weissen Syrup was finalized, with pickup in three days.

The broker collected his fee and was just about to leave when Armand said, "I want to look at steel this afternoon. You can take me."

"Alright!" The broker grinned widely. The steel business was a big one, and the commission wouldn't be small.

He immediately ordered their lunch, serving the clients the most expensive steamed Steam Bread with salt and sauerkraut stewed pork knuckle. In front of himself, he placed the cheapest bran and grain Steam Bread with sauerkraut.

The guests from the Kingdom of Gaul examined the steamed buns for about ten minutes before slicing and eating them like bread.

Armand glanced at the price list hanging on the pillar and couldn't help but ask the broker, "You've made a good amount today. Why are you still eating the cheapest thing?"

The broker replied with a smile, "The kindergarten teacher said my little one is quite smart. We've decided to save some money. If he really shows promise, we'll send him to Weissenburg University. The tuition there isn't cheap."

Armand thought this person was skilled, efficient, and talkative today, and decided to give him a hand. He said, "You can come find me in Barris City then. I think Baron Weissen will recognize my letter of recommendation."

The broker was taken aback, then shook his head and said, "The young master said that Weissenburg University doesn't look at letters of recommendation or anything like that, only exam scores."

Armand couldn't understand.

But he did understand one thing: why this person was so full of hope for the future.