Night had fully descended. The clamor of Silk Street had simred down into a thick, lazy slurry of sound.
Luke didn't head to any of the cheap, mixed-bag inns. Following the information he had gathered from the Gold Cloaks and several vendors during the day, he found a reasonably reputable inn located between Silk Street and the Old City Gate — the Blackwater Riverside Inn.
It was a three-story stone-and-timber building, noticeably cleaner and more orderly than the shacks in Flea Bottom. A wooden sign painted with a river sail hung at the entrance, and the polished brass door ring reflected the flickering torchlight.
The people coming in and out were decently dressed and at least clean.
Luke walked up to the counter and, in slightly stiff but clear enough language, asked for a room.
The innkeeper was a lean middle-aged man with neatly trimd mustaches and sharp, lively eyes. He sized up Luke's well-made but uniquely styled gray ranger outfit and the noticeably heavy coin pouch at his waist. Without asking too many questions, he quoted the price: a single room with a small window overlooking the street, basic fresh water and bedding. One silver stag per day, or ten silver stags for a full month.
For ordinary commoners this was a huge sum, but for Luke, who had just earned several hundred gold dragons, it was completely acceptable — especially in exchange for safety, cleanliness, and quiet.
He didn't haggle. He simply counted out ten shiny silver stags and paid for a full month upfront.
This straightforward attitude made the innkeeper's smile noticeably more genuine. He personally led Luke to the innermost room on the second floor.
The room was more spacious than expected, roughly twenty square ters.
Thick but slightly worn carpets covered the floor. A wooden bed with a canopy and heavy curtains stood in one corner, dressed with washed plain linen sheets and a wool blanket. There was a solid wood table, two chairs, a washstand with a copper basin, and even a small fireplace. The window was slightly ajar, letting in the slightly fishy but far fresher air from the direction of the Blackwater Rush.
No strange odors. No insects.
The furnishings were simple, yet carried a heavy, authentic "antique" texture. Luke thought that on Blue Star, this would easily be a thed guesthouse room costing eight hundred to a thousand yuan per night.
He carefully checked the door lock — a simple bolt and latch, not modern but sturdy enough. He also inspected the windows and walls to make sure there were no peepholes or abnormalities. Only then did he relax a little and sit down at the table.
But he didn't rest imdiately.
He needed to organize and plan.
He took out a notebook and ballpoint pen from Blue Star, lit the stable beef-tallow candle in the copper candlestick on the table, and began to seriously sort through everything.
After a full day of trading and careful eavesdropping, combined with his previous knowledge, he had basically figured out the mainstream currency conversion rates in Westeros. He wrote on the paper:
Gold Dragon is the highest unit. 1 Gold Dragon ≈ 30 Silver Moons ≈ 210 Silver Stags ≈ 1400 Copper Stars.
Copper pennies are the smallest unit, with many varieties and complicated exchanges — he would deal with those later.
Additionally: He had received a small number of Essosi coins (Braavosi iron coins, Pentoshi silver coins, etc.), value to be determined.
Next was pricing.
He recalled the expressions of the shopkeepers, rcenaries, prostitutes, stewards, and nobles when they saw the sugar, salt, and glass bottles, or slled the fragrances — greed, shock, longing, hesitation, and finally gritting their teeth to buy.
Those expressions told him clearly: The "scarcity" and "quality" of the things he brought far exceeded the common understanding of this era.
He could not sell them too cheaply.
He picked up the pen and wrote down a new, clear pricing strategy as his future benchmark:
Refined Salt (200g bamboo jar): 100 silver stags. (Today's average was about 90; rounded up to emphasize the "refined" quality.)White Sugar (200g bamboo jar): 1 Gold Dragon. (Hold firm on this price as the luxury threshold.)Wind Oil Essence (small bottle): 50 silver stags. (Positioned as a "practical miracle dicine.")Floral Water (bottle): 10 Gold Dragons. (Insect repellent, odor remover, fresh scent value of the glass bottle itself. Target custors: rich rchants, fastidious nobles, high-end brothels.)Perfu (bottle, different shapes and scents): Starting at 10 Gold Dragons. (Can go higher depending on bottle elegance. Core selling points: long-lasting captivating fragrance artistic glass bottle. Target custors: noblewon, high-class courtesans, luxury-seeking rchants.)
When he wrote "10 Gold Dragons," Luke's pen paused. He stared at the number.
In Westeros, this was a considerable sum of money — a skilled craftsman might need several years to save it.
But he had good reasons to set this price:
Cost and value were completely different things here.
On Blue Star these items were nearly worthless, but here they were unique. Pricing must match the "perceived value" they brought — status, enjoynt, novelty.
Moreover, the glass bottles themselves were hard currency.
He rembered the burning gazes people gave the bottles during the day. Although glass existed in the Ga of Thrones world, it was expensive to produce, and the purity, transparency, and variety of shapes were far inferior to Blue Star's industrial products.
These bottles were artworks and luxury items here.
Most importantly, he needed to control supply and maintain scarcity. This was his core strategy.
If he flooded the market with large amounts of cheap high-quality sugar, salt, and fine glass bottles, he might earn more in the short term, but it would quickly disrupt the local market and attract the attention and hostility of local sugar rchants, salt traders, glassmakers, and the guilds and nobles behind them.
The cri of possessing a jade is the fault itself. As a lone person, he couldn't withstand the resulting greed and dirty tricks.
He had to take the "high-end limited supply" route — release only tiny amounts each ti and keep an air of mystery. By targeting the top-tier clients who could afford the premium and cared more about "face" and "rules," he could minimize disruption to the existing power structure and reduce the risk of being violently robbed by desperate thugs or bottom-tier forces.
High prices were themselves a form of screening and protection.
"I only earn pocket money from the rich. I don't earn living expenses from the poor!"
He closed the notebook and stored it back in his personal space.
He blew out the candle. The room sank into darkness, lit only by faint starlight and distant blurry lanterns leaking through the window.
Lying on the bed that wasn't particularly soft but was dry and clean, Luke listened to the unique nightti sounds of this other world — so different from the constant urban hum of Blue Star. His thoughts surged like tides.
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