My Anime Shopping Tree & My Cold Prodigy Wife!
Episode : 129

Chapter: 257

Lloyd laughed, a sound of pure relief and triumphant partnership. The general had not only seen the value of the weapon; she was already planning the entire campaign. The soap empire was in very, very good hands.

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The test had been passed. The pitch, delivered with a conviction born of eighty years of observing human nature and a sudden, desperate need for capital, had landed with the force of a revelation. Mei Jing, the sharp-eyed, pragmatic merchant’s daughter, was no longer just an intrigued consultant; she was a true believer, a high priestess in the newly founded church of Aura. The air in the small, sun-drenched parlor crackled with a new, shared energy, the heady, intoxicating buzz of two keen, strategic minds recognizing a golden opportunity.

“So, you’re in?” Lloyd asked, though he already knew the answer. The predatory gleam in her eyes was more eloquent than any verbal confirmation.

“‘In’, my lord?” Mei Jing replied, a wry, almost teasing smile playing on her lips. She set the dispenser bottle down with a reverence usually reserved for royal regalia. “Lord Ferrum, I am not merely ‘in’. I am ready to build a commercial empire that will make the spice trade look like a child’s game of selling slightly bruised fruit by the roadside.” She leaned forward, her earlier professional reserve gone, replaced by a torrent of focused, commercial energy. “The concept… ‘selling an identity, not a product’… it is brilliant. Revolutionary. It bypasses the mundane arguments of price and function and appeals directly to the most powerful motivators in this society: status, aspiration, and the desperate fear of being seen as common.”

She started pacing, her movements quick, sharp, her mind clearly already five steps ahead. “The name, ‘Aura’. Perfect. Simple, elegant, mysterious. It hints at the scent, yes, but also at the… intangible quality… the aura of refinement you spoke of. It’s a brand, not just a label.”

Lloyd listened, a slow, satisfied smile on his face. He had planted the seed. Now, he was watching it germinate with astonishing speed in the fertile ground of her brilliant, commercially ruthless mind.

“So, you’ll take the position?” he prompted. “Head of Sales and Marketing for Ferrum’s Cleansing Elixirs, operating under the brand name ‘Aura’.”

Mei Jing stopped her pacing, turning to face him, her expression serious, her dark eyes holding a sharp, negotiator’s glint. The enthusiast was momentarily replaced by the professional. “I will, my lord. On two conditions.”

Lloyd’s eyebrow arched. “Conditions?”

“Of course,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “A partnership of this potential requires clarity from the outset.” She held up a single, slender finger. “First, authority. I require full operational authority over all aspects of sales, marketing, distribution, and branding. Your vision is the foundation, my lord, and your final approval is, of course, paramount. But the day-to-day strategy, the negotiations with merchants, the crafting of the marketing message… that must be my domain. I cannot build an empire if my hands are tied by committee or second-guessing.”

Lloyd considered for a moment, then nodded. It was a bold demand, but a logical one. He didn't have the time or the inclination to micromanage a sales team. He needed a general he could trust to win the war. “Agreed,” he said without hesitation. “You will have full operational authority, reporting directly to me. What is your second condition?”

A faint, almost predatory smile returned to Mei Jing’s lips. “Compensation, my lord.” She didn't flinch, her gaze steady, professional. “My grandfather, bless his academic heart, likely negotiated a generous salary for me. It is… adequate. For an employee.” She paused, letting the implication hang. “But I do not wish to be a mere employee, Lord Ferrum. I wish to be a partner. A junior partner, perhaps, but a partner nonetheless.”

She met his gaze squarely. “I propose a modest base salary, sufficient to cover my living expenses. But the true compensation… will be in the form of commission. A percentage of net profits on every bar, every dispenser, every single drop of Aura that is sold. A small percentage, to be sure. But one that directly ties my success to the success of the enterprise. It ensures my interests are perfectly, and profitably, aligned with yours. If Aura fails, I earn little. But if Aura succeeds, if it becomes the empire we both envision…” her eyes gleamed, “then we shall both become very, very wealthy indeed.”

Lloyd stared at her, a slow, genuine laugh of pure, unadulterated admiration bubbling up from his chest. Gods, she was good. She wasn’t just asking for a job; she was demanding a stake. She was betting on herself, on him, on the product. It was audacious, brilliant, and exactly the kind of hungry, motivated ambition he needed.

Chapter: 258

“Lady Mei Jing,” he said, his smile widening into a grin. “You are, without a doubt, the most terrifyingly effective negotiator I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. And that,” he added, thinking of King Liam, “is saying something.” He extended his hand, not as a lord to a subordinate, but as one partner to another. “You have a deal. Welcome to the board of Aura.”

Mei Jing’s smile, in return, was dazzling. She took his hand, her grip firm, confident. “A pleasure to be aboard, my lord.” The deal was struck. His commercial general was officially enlisted.

“Now,” she said, her tone instantly shifting back to crisp, efficient business, releasing his hand. “Let us begin. The product is magnificent. The concept is sound. But the execution must be flawless. We need to craft the brand.”

They spent the next several days closeted in the quiet, dusty confines of the Ferrum estate library, a space that had likely never witnessed such a fervent, almost manic, explosion of commercial strategy. The air, usually thick with the scent of old leather and forgotten histories, was now filled with the sharp scent of charcoal and the buzz of two brilliant minds working in perfect, if occasionally argumentative, sync.

They covered vast sheets of parchment with notes, diagrams, and sketches. Lloyd, drawing on his fragmented but potent memories of Earth-based marketing, introduced concepts that were utterly alien, yet instantly grasped, by Mei Jing’s sharp, intuitive mind.

“Branding is not just a name, Mei Jing,” he explained, sketching a simple diagram. “It’s a story. A promise. An ecosystem.” He talked about target demographics. “We launch first with the nobility, the highest echelons. Create an aura of exclusivity, of unattainable luxury. The price must be high. Obscenely high, at first. High enough to be a statement in itself.”

Mei Jing nodded instantly, her eyes gleaming. “Of course. Scarcity creates desire. If only the Duchess and a few favored ladies of the court have it, every other noblewoman in the capital will move heaven and earth to acquire it. It becomes a weapon in their social wars.”

“Exactly,” Lloyd confirmed. “Then, once the brand is established as the pinnacle of luxury, we introduce a secondary line. A diffusion line, if you will. The hard soap bars. Still premium, still far superior to the common lye blocks, but at a price point accessible to wealthy merchants, guild masters, the upper e-middle class. We allow them a taste of the luxury the nobles enjoy. We make them feel as if they are part of the same, exclusive club.”

“Brilliant,” Mei Jing breathed, already scribbling notes. “We create a tiered system of aspiration. The common man sees the merchant using the hard bar and desires it. The merchant sees the noble with the elegant dispenser and covets it. And the noble,” she looked up, a slow smile spreading across her face, “sees the King using it, and feels affirmed in their superior status. It’s a perfect, self-perpetuating cycle of desire.”

They hammered out the details. Packaging was crucial. “The dispenser is its own advertisement,” Lloyd insisted. “But the hard bars… they cannot be sold wrapped in common cloth.” They designed simple, elegant boxes of dark, polished wood, lined with soft velvet, each bar to be wrapped in fine, scented paper stamped with the ‘Aura’ logo they were developing – a simple, elegant swirl of lines that hinted at both a gentle lather and a wisp of fragrant smoke.

(Author Note: Bar soap yet to be perfected. They are deciding about what they will do with bar soap in future.)

They discussed pricing tiers. The standard hard bar. A premium line, made with the olive oil Lloyd was now securing, which would be marketed as ‘Southern Elixir’. And then, the pinnacle. The product reserved for royalty, for the highest-ranking nobles, for gifts of immense significance.

“The Royal Rosemary,” Lloyd declared, the name coming to him in a flash of inspiration. “The soft soap, made with the purest rosemary essential oil, housed exclusively in the oak-and-steel dispensers. It will not be for general sale. It will be available only by special order, or as a direct gift from House Ferrum. Its exclusivity will be its greatest selling point.” He thought of his five-year-long, complimentary supply contract with King Liam. “And, of course, a steady, generous supply will find its way to the Royal Household of Bethelham. Very publicly.”

Mei Jing’s laugh was sharp with delighted, predatory glee. “My lord,” she said, her eyes shining with admiration. “You are not just a merchant king. You are a devil. A wonderfully, brilliantly, profitable devil.”