Transmigrated as the Villain Boss's Precious Darling-Chapter 69: Chicken Feathers for Candy
"Uncle, what does the Bureau of Industry and Commerce do?" Nancy Thorne asked casually.
"They manage the markets. It’s a cushy job—all he does is drink tea and read the newspaper all day," Goldie Thorne scoffed.
’My mother scolds me every day for loafing around, but hah... my brother-in-law is the one who truly does nothing. He goes to work, reads the paper, drinks tea, makes a few trips to the bathroom, and takes a nap. Then he spends the afternoon doing the same, just coasting through the day. And for what? A measly salary that’s barely enough to live on. If that’s not wasting your life, I don’t know what is.’
This intrigued Adrian Hawthorne even more. He had come to the city specifically to learn about the market conditions. He never imagined the Thorne family’s son-in-law was the one in charge of it. He could use this chance to ask a few questions later.
Nancy Thorne could hear Goldie’s disdain for his brother-in-law, though she didn’t know why. But while Goldie might be a loafer, the Thorne family had one redeeming quality: they were fiercely protective of their own.
’They might not be kind to outsiders, but they were true to their own family. So there could only be one reason for Goldie’s disapproval: this uncle-in-law didn’t treat her aunt, Phoebe, very well.’
’Still, she’d have to meet him in person to be sure. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding.’
The sun climbed higher in the sky, having already crested the mountain peak and begun its descent. Once they were down the other side, they would reach Wraven.
The sound of hurried footsteps came from up ahead. A moment later, a middle-aged man appeared before them, ambling along with a peddler’s pole balanced on his shoulder. A pair of cloth shoes hung from one end of the pole, while the man himself wore straw sandals. He moved quickly, the sharp stones on the path not slowing him in the slightest, as if he were walking on level ground.
The pole balanced two large baskets. One held a winnowing tray, upon which sat a large slab of brown sugar covered by a clean cloth. The wind lifted a corner of the fabric, and Nancy Thorne’s heart skipped a beat.
’Could this be the famous "trading chicken feathers for candy"?’
"Uncle, I want some candy," Nancy Thorne wheedled.
The middle-aged man stopped immediately, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile as he looked at Nancy Thorne. Having traveled far and wide, he had developed a keen eye for people and could tell at a glance that her family was well-off. He chuckled, "What a pretty little girl. Here, let your uncle give you some candy."
He took out a hammer and a chisel. With a CLINK and a CLANK, he chipped off a piece of sugar the size of a child’s palm, wrapped it in mulberry paper, and handed it to Nancy Thorne.
"How much is it, Uncle?"
Nancy Thorne rummaged in her pocket. She had her own little stash of money; just yesterday, Byron Thorne had secretly slipped her a dime, and Felix Thorne had done the same.
"No need for money, it’s a gift from me," the middle-aged man chuckled. This little girl was not only pretty but also sweet-tongued; she was just so endearing.
"But I have money."
Nancy Thorne shook her head firmly. ’Life is very hard for the people of Wraven right now,’ she thought. ’Otherwise, they wouldn’t travel over mountains just to trade for chicken feathers, all to increase their grain yield by a few dozen pounds per mu.’
’The original purpose of "trading chicken feathers for candy" wasn’t to turn a profit, but to increase crop yields.’
’Wraven is mountainous with little arable land, so each person is allotted only a small plot. But that couldn’t stop the clever and hardworking people of Wraven. They discovered that by composting chicken feathers into their fields, they could increase the yield by several dozen pounds per mu. And so, the world-famous story of "trading chicken feathers for candy" was born.’
’Although it started as a way to increase yields, this trade became the very seed of Wraven’s future business empire. While trading for candy, many people would also carry goods for others. Slowly, commerce began to flow, forging the unique business acumen for which the people of Wraven were known.’
’It was no accident that Wraven would one day become the world’s largest hub for small commodities; it was the natural result of market forces.’
Goldie Thorne pulled some change from his pocket to pay, but the middle-aged man spotted the eggs peeking out. "Don’t worry about the money," he said. "How about you give me a couple of those eggs for my breakfast instead?"
