Fan i'er's grandfather was fortunate; he made a fortune from speculating in silk and spices, but by the ti it got to Fan i'er's father's generation, they lost everything in a previous gilded speculation disaster.
By the ti it was Fan i'er and his brother's generation, although they still bore the noble title, they were left with nothing but a few silk clothes, the ancestral ho, and a small pharmacist's shop.
These possessions would certainly ensure a lifeti of comfort for any other family, but for the Fan i'er brothers, whose estate was already bankrupt and left with only a title, losing even that title would make them noble in na only.
But to make a living, Fan i'er had no choice but to beco the shady hand of the rchant tycoons he despised, specializing in debt collection from those nobles who owed money, amassing quite a bit of savings over the years.
This ti, however, Fan i'er decided to go all in and invest all his savings in buying sugar.
This was guaranteed by the rchant tycoons above him, who assured him that sugar prices would definitely not drop.
In this, Fan i'er was utterly convinced. These rchant tycoons controlled the supply channels of the sugar workshops. With no changes in the sugar raw material market, it was impossible for a large amount of sugar to appear suddenly.
So he couldn't understand what motivated this little girl, Lupher, to claim an increase in sugar production—what was she thinking?
"Brother, what do we do next?"
"Disrupt her newspaper, and the Stormwind Family will hand us the futures contracts. You keep an eye on the newspaper, as long as nothing goes wrong, our Bastian Family can get back to the table." Fan i'er rubbed his reddened hands.
"Okay." Wolfhardt rode off on his small pony, while Fan i'er continued to wait at the canal dockside.
At the dockside, almost a thousand people were gathered, all stretching their necks like waiting wives, gazing towards the end of the canal.
These people were all speculators in the sugar battle, so going long, and others going short.
Fan i'er found a flowerbed to sit by, but his eyes never left the river surface for a mont.
He had to stay focused; it was the last day for Nao'an River navigability. If the shipnt didn't arrive today, they wouldn't be able to transport anything co the winter dry season.
He waited from noon until evening, and whenever a boat appeared, the crowd sitting on the ground would rush forward together.
Upon finding it wasn't a sugar-carrying ship, they would disperse like startled birds and beasts.
The sun gradually sank in the west, and there were fewer and fewer boats on the river, let alone any large ships.
Under the winter sun, seeing this scene, Fan i'er humd a tune, looking at the increasingly desperate short traders at the inland dock with a satisfied smile on his face.
He even pulled out so cheese from his pocket: "Eating sauerkraut-wrapped cheese, not even the Emperor's majesty can match this."
The red light of the setting sun shone on the rippling river like blood reflecting in everyone's pupils.
Many speculators and citizens were unsteady on their feet; so pessimists began to viciously curse Lupher as the "sun on the shoreline," and even the most optimistic optimist couldn't muster a smile.
The sun sank inch by inch towards the water, and so did people's spirits.
When the sun touched the water, the crowd rippled like water waves, gradually beginning to disperse.
Just as the waiting crowd was about to leave, the clattering of hooves accompanied by loud, cracked shouts arose: "The ship has arrived, the sugar shipnt is here."
"Nonsense." Hearing the shouting, the previously reclining Fan i'er jumped up, leaping onto the flowerbed platform and shouting towards the direction of the sound, "I've been waiting at the canal all day, no ship in sight!"
But when he saw who it was that was shouting, he was stunned: "Wolfhardt? You rascal, you're supposed to be minding the newspaper, why are you here babbling nonsense?"
"Not nonsense, brother." Wolfhardt was so anxious that he was spitting as he spoke, "The sugar shipnt ca by sea route, they didn't co through the Nao'an River."
"What?!"
Mounting his small pony, Fan i'er and his brother rushed breathlessly from the inland canal to the sea dock on the other side.
At this mont, the dock was as crowded as a festival, filled with onlookers crying and laughing, so even madly banging their heads against trees on the street corner.
Seeing this scene, Fan i'er's heart sank infinitely.
Stumbling to the dockside and pushing through the crowd, the mont Fan i'er saw the sea, he felt as if an invisible chain strangled his throat, leaving him gasping for breath.
Eight rchant ships from Falan were docked at the pier. With one glance, Fan i'er instantly calculated that the ships were carrying between 40,000 to 50,000 dan.
Boxes filled with silver moonlight-like fine sand and damp sugar blocks were being unloaded from the ship's hold, while the tax collector's feather pen was moving at lightning speed, his fingers cramping.
"Silas." Seeing a familiar junior official at the docks, Fan i'er pounced on him like a man grabbing at a life-saving straw, "Here, how much sugar is this? Is this sugar?"
"Are you blind?" The junior official glared at him, "The ship is unloading 48,000 dan of sugar, tsk, don't block the way."
He pushed Fan i'er aside like a stray dog, and the junior official jogged forward, while Fan i'er stood there like a statue.
Wolfhardt cautiously approached, rubbing Fan i'er's shoulder: "Brother..."
As soon as he spoke, Fan i'er suddenly rushed forward, slipping beneath the guard's armpit and kneeling before a crate, he began shouting wildly: "Impossible, impossible, Black Snake Bay doesn't produce 40,000 dan in a year, it's impossible!"
He kicked over the crate and pried open the nailed-down lid with his hands and teeth, and then thrust his hands into the gritty sugar.
Unfortunately, his hands didn't touch the stones he imagined, and amidst the cold gazes of the guards and other ship owners, he scooped fistfuls of sugar out.
Yet, all the sugar in the box was genuine, full-asure sugar, and visibly higher quality than the sugar from Red Leaf Hill Sugar Workshop.
"Citizen, let remind you, this crate of sugar is about 10 dan (1120 pounds)." A ship owner with a heavy Falan accent walked slowly up to him, "You'll have to compensate, um, let calculate, 150 gold pounds."
The previously kneeling Fan i'er trembled all over, slowly raising his head, his eyes bloodshot, his voice tinged with a quiver of tears: "How much? You said how much!"
Fan i'er lunged at the ship owner, grabbing his collar: "Why is it only this much, why only... ugh..."
Clutching his stomach, he slowly knelt down, while the ship owner disdainfully wiped his fist with a handkerchief: "Are you possessed by a demon? You're not happy with less compensation?"
Fan i'er couldn't hear the ship owner's words. Being a veteran speculator, he instantly calculated the per-pound price of this sugar at about 16 dinars.
16 dinars! 16 dinars! The current per-pound price of sugar in Dam City was 30 dinars!
He had previously borrowed futures sugar 50 dan; the buyers sold it for 1,400 gold pounds, and today they would need only 746 gold pounds to repurchase the 50 dan of sugar for him.
"Cough cough cough cough—" Fan i'er began coughing violently.
His brother rushed up to support his arm, but as Fan i'er lifted his head, the look of misery and shock on his face transford into a smile.
"Brother, you..."
"Yay—" Fan i'er clapped his hands, "I've made it! I've made it! I've earned 653 gold pounds, I've made it, hahahaha!"
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