Chapter Thirty-Two: Three Hundred Plants

Jia Ping’an, who had been bowing his head to stroke the fox, finally looked up slowly upon hearing this. He revealed a harmless, innocent smile and said, "I, too, wish to congratulate the General."

Jia Ping’an spoke with nonchalance, but in reality, while his head was bowed, he had been using Little White’s "God’s-eye view" to observe every move of the three people in the hall.

Having exposed one of his own secrets, Jia Ping’an could not be certain if Hu Buyun might harbor any ulterior motives. However, he needed the other party’s support for his subsequent plans, so he had no choice but to gamble.

If he failed, at worst he would send Little White away and wait for an opportunity to let it escape. Though this would mean Little White could no longer appear in public, fortunately, with the existence of his space, it would not be a major catastrophe.

As it turned out, he had gambled correctly. Hu Buyun was a man of measure and intelligence, knowing how to maximize his interests; this was good. Jia Ping’an liked dealing with smart people.

That Jia Ping’an had exposed his secret without any defensive measures, and hadn't even looked up, left Hu Buyun somewhat shocked.

*Do you not understand the principle that possessing a treasure can be a crime?*

Hu Buyun truly wanted to offer the boy some advice. Not everyone was as easygoing as he was, capable of seeing a treasure without trying to snatch it. However, as Jia Ping’an looked up and offered his congratulations, Hu Buyun was left bewildered.

Why congratulate him?

"General, I presume the Imperial Court sets quotas for Ningguta every year. They must be difficult to fulfill, but from now on, everything will become much easier," Jia Ping’an said, noticing the confusion in Hu Buyun’s eyes and offering a blunt explanation.

He had not forgotten that his physical age was only fifteen. Even so, he could not appear too mature; displaying a childlike side appropriately would actually make people feel more at ease.

"Oh? Ha! Hahahaha!" Having finally grasped the meaning behind Jia Ping’an’s words, Hu Buyun burst into hearty laughter.

The laughter was exceptionally bright, and to the ears of the steward, Hu Shoufu, it was deeply moving. He could not remember the last time he had heard the General laugh so heartily; it felt wonderful.

Hu Buyun understood, and was delighted. Hu Buxin, who stood nearby, also understood, but he thought further ahead. As soon as his cousin’s laughter ceased, he could not help but ask, "May I ask, Young Master Jia, with this white fox, how confident are you in finding ginseng, and how much can you produce in a year?"

As the manager of the Hu family’s ginseng firm, Hu Buxin naturally knew the source of his cousin’s troubles. He had been trying hard to procure ginseng, but the General’s estate lacked the financial resources of the Zheng family, making it very difficult for him to achieve results.

Now that Jia Ping’an was willing to step forward and solve this problem, he naturally wanted to confirm the quantities.

"As for that, forgive me for not being able to give you a definitive answer. After all, I only went into the deep mountains with Little White once; I don’t know what the next harvest will be. But a conservative estimate would be this much in a year."

Jia Ping’an did not make any guarantees. A truly smart person never locks themselves into a promise; this was a way to keep his options open. However, since his future plans required the help of the General’s estate, he had to offer some assurance to put them at ease. He raised his right hand and held up three fingers.

"Thirty roots? Well, that would solve part of the problem." Hu Buxin felt a twinge of disappointment. As far as he knew, Ningguta had to provide about five hundred roots of ginseng to the Imperial Court annually just to barely pass inspection. Thirty roots were not even a tenth of that. Still, considering that the ginseng Jia Ping’an had produced was of excellent quality, it did solve a portion of the issue.

Hu Buyun looked at Jia Ping’an with similar anticipation, but felt a similar disappointment upon hearing the number thirty. Perhaps thirty roots were plenty for Jia Ping’an as an individual, but for all of Ningguta, it was far from enough.

"Hm? Who said thirty? I meant three hundred," Jia Ping’an said with a smile, correcting the number after realizing they had misunderstood.

"What? Three hundred!"

Almost instantly, both Hu Buyun and Hu Buxin widened their eyes, speaking in unison.

"Yes, exactly three hundred," Jia Ping’an replied with a tone of absolute certainty.

Realizing they had heard correctly—that it was truly three hundred—the two brothers’ eyes lit up with excitement. The annual quota was only five hundred; if Jia Ping’an could help them cover more than half, they would only need to come up with two hundred more. Distributed over twelve months, the task would be significantly easier. In previous years, they could still collect dozens of usable roots each month during summer and autumn; by that calculation, wouldn't the Imperial quota be easily met?

Thinking of how easily the burden on his shoulders could be lifted, Hu Buyun’s mood soared. "Good, good! Young Master Jia—no, wait, this matter is entrusted to you. Rest assured, the price will be fair; we will not treat you shabbily."

The Imperial Court allocated funds every year to purchase ginseng. Although the price wasn't high, Hu Buyun, as the administrator of Ningguta, had ways to procure funds from other sources. In short, the payment for Jia Ping’an should be sufficient.

"No, no, no!" The other party was satisfied, but Jia Ping’an was not.

Was he selling ginseng just for that bit of payment? If that were the case, wouldn’t an auction-style sale like the one today have been better? That would have driven the price even higher. Clearly, selling ginseng was merely a stopgap measure for Jia Ping’an.

He did not intend to do this business forever. Compared to the state’s demand for ginseng, he believed the demand for food and entertainment was far greater. If that was the case, why should he be tied to the ginseng trade?

Jia Ping’an suddenly shook his head, which made Hu Buyun’s heart skip a beat. "Young Master Jia, what do you mean?"

Hu Buyun’s intuition told him that Jia Ping’an must have other intentions and that it wasn't about the price of the ginseng. Otherwise, why would he say so much and reveal the secret of the white fox? Wouldn't it have been simpler to just build a relationship and sell the eighty-year-old ginseng at a low price?

But he hadn't done that, which meant he clearly had other requirements, though Hu Buyun had no idea what they were.

Taking a deep breath and thinking over his plan, Jia Ping’an spoke slowly under the gaze of the three men. "General, you are still young and surely a man of great ambition. Don't you want to see Ningguta become more prosperous? This would not only count as your administrative achievement, but you would also be able to collect more in commercial taxes. Why not?"

"Become more prosperous?" Hearing this, Hu Buyun smiled.

The steward, Hu Shoufu, who had not had a chance to speak until now, also smiled. "Young Master Jia, I’m afraid you don’t know, but the General has already done this. The Huaicai Restaurant, for instance, is owned by our Hu family."

This was true. Before Hu Buyun came to Ningguta, there was only one large restaurant—Yuelai Restaurant. It belonged to the Zheng family and monopolized the catering industry in Ningguta. Upon learning this, Hu Buyun established the Huaicai Restaurant, giving others a different choice.

"Huaicai Restaurant?" Jia Ping’an almost laughed out loud upon hearing the name.

He had been to that restaurant, more than once, primarily because it was closer to his own home. But precisely because he had been there and tasted the food and wine, he had conceived the idea of entering the catering industry.

In his previous life, Jia Ping’an had lived an exquisite life. As a high-level secretary, he was picky about food—he wouldn’t go to places with poor environments, unsanitary conditions, or inauthentic flavors.

Looking at these three criteria, which one did Huaicai Restaurant satisfy? The food was mediocre, the environment was monotonous, the service was lacking, it had no appeal, and as for hygiene—it was best not to mention it. Seeing the waiter’s hand almost dipping into the dish, how could anyone have an appetite?

It was because of these observations that Jia Ping’an decided to develop in this sector. His cousin in his previous life had been in the catering business, and he had taken many clients there; he had often heard about the precautions for running a restaurant.

Most importantly, Jia Ping’an loved to cook himself. When resting, his favorite thing to do was prepare a few small dishes at home, then sip tea or have a drink to relieve the pressure of work. With this foundation, Jia Ping’an had more confidence in opening a restaurant.

Compared to the overly monotonous restaurant industry of the present, he had far too many innovative ideas in his mind that people of this era would find fascinating. Compared to dealing in luxury goods, food was clearly an inescapable topic for people; as such, he had no fear of a lack of customers.

Jia Ping’an was stifling his laughter. Though he didn't make a sound, the expression on his face gave everything away. Hu Buxin, standing nearby, couldn't take it anymore and couldn't help but ask, "It can't be that bad, can it? Is the Huaicai Restaurant really that poor?"

The reason Hu Buxin said this was that he had been the first manager of the Huaicai Restaurant. He had been full of ambition at the time, but because business was poor, he had eventually transferred to be the manager of the Hu family’s ginseng firm. Now, seeing someone demeaning the restaurant, even if not directly, he still felt a bit slighted.