"Uh, are you here to buy seafood?" Jiang Hai asked, a bit stunned, his voice carrying an air of curiosity.
"Of course, aren't you?" The group responded confidently.
As Winthrop grew more popular, Jiang Hai's seafood became the talk of the town. Tourists, and even locals, knew that his seafood was top-notch. His prices, while reasonable by American standards, made his products even more appealing.
Of course, they weren't talking about premium items like abalone or sea cucumbers—those weren't of interest to them. They were talking about lobsters. At Jiang Hai's manor, lobsters weighing more than 30 kilograms were sold for $3,000. While you might pay a similar price at commercial fisheries, it was still a good deal.
Typically, lobsters of such size would go for anywhere between $3,600 and $4,000, so Jiang Hai's price was a bargain.
However, with locals also buying lobsters, tourists began to feel uncomfortable.
Initially, Jiang Hai's lobsters were primarily sold to tourists, who didn't mind the price. They considered it a good deal, especially compared to what they'd pay elsewhere. But over time, some began to complain.
"His lobsters are too big, his lobsters are too small, the meat's not firm enough, the price is too high, the sides aren't what I want," they would grumble.
It's true—there are all kinds of people in the world. When faced with criticism like this, Jiang Hai had two options: swallow his frustration or stand his ground. Thankfully, his personality leans toward the latter. Edward Anderson, ever the loyal ally, backed him up on this. As Jiang Hai always said, the price was set, and people could choose whether or not to buy.
After standing firm, some refused to purchase, but the majority still bought from him.
Those who didn't buy? Well, their money wasn't essential to Jiang Hai's business. He'd survive without them.
To avoid any further issues, Jiang Hai and his team stopped accepting reservations. Every day, they would catch a small batch of lobsters and go around the town, selling them to interested buyers. If no one was around, they would simply take them back home. Jiang Hai loved eating them, so there was no concern about having too many left.
But now, with foreigners coming in to buy, things were getting complicated.
Edward Anderson and his team could only catch so many lobsters each day. Despite their early morning efforts, with only five team members—four of whom were actively involved in catching lobsters—there was a limit to what they could do. Maren Rupert had to fly for inspections, so that left only four people to manage the entire operation. They had to monitor fish schools and spend a few hours daily hunting lobsters. Given the size they were aiming for, catching lobsters over 30 kilograms wasn't an easy task.
On average, they could catch about ten lobsters a day, which was usually enough to meet the demand from tourists. However, with both locals and Americans joining in, the supply was stretched thin. If it was just lobsters, they could manage, but they also brought in abalone, sea cucumbers, Arctic shrimp, and shellfish. The limited supply made it harder to keep up.
On the second day after Jiang Hai left, a few food enthusiasts began waiting at his place. By the third day, they were still waiting, and when Jiang Hai finally drove up, a wave of impatience spread through the crowd.
"Hey, can we come in and take a look?" One man, now realizing who was behind the wheel, called out.
He'd heard of Jiang Hai and his world-class seafood—rumors of priceless beef, golden sea stalls, and vibrant fish-filled coral reefs. To the people of Winthrop, Jiang Hai's estate was like something out of a fairy tale, though it was private, not open to the public.
Seeing the man they all revered, the visitor hoped to gain access. Surely, this was their chance to experience the best.
"Not today, I have guests," Jiang Hai replied, shutting the gate behind him and driving into the manor.
Some of the visitors grumbled under their breath, discontent creeping into their voices.
"Who does he think he is? A country bumpkin acting all high and mighty," one muttered. "If he were in China, he'd be out of business in no time!"
"Yeah, how many people can afford his lobsters? He's getting too cocky for someone who's barely making it."
Hearing these remarks, the man at the front of the group couldn't help but chuckle. Deep down, he agreed with Jiang Hai's position. The sports car and the Rolls-Royce that accompanied him hinted at a wealth and status these tourists couldn't comprehend. Jiang Hai was no stranger to power or privilege.
"Just drop it, guys," an older man in the queue said softly. "Do you know how powerful Jiang Hai is here? If anyone hears you, don't be surprised if you never get to buy his seafood again. If you're not happy, just leave."
This silenced the group. Despite their complaints, the allure of Jiang Hai's seafood still held sway over them. They hadn't tasted it yet, but curiosity kept them waiting. Once they did, they'd understand the difference. Nothing compared to the fresh, delectable offerings from Jiang Hai's manor.
Inside, Jiang Hai was unaware of the grumbling crowd. He led Du Famen to his villa, where the aroma of cooking food welcomed them.
"Hey, you're back! This must be Mr. Du Famen—Weiha Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum, right?" Bernice, who had been busy preparing food, greeted them warmly. "I'm Bernice, a friend of Jiang Hai."
Du Famen's eyes lit up as he took in her beauty. "A beautiful lady from the East! Pleasure to meet you. Since you're a friend of Jiang Hai, you're a friend of mine as well." He winked at Jiang Hai, impressed. "I didn't know you had such a beautiful woman hidden away in your golden house."
Jiang Hai and Bernice's relationship, though close, was purely platonic, and Du Famen had to accept it. But he couldn't help but notice the connection between the two.
Bernice led them to the table, where Xiaoya had prepared a feast. As Du Famen caught the scent of roasted beef brisket, his excitement was palpable. This was the same beef he'd enjoyed in the imperial capital at the Qi family's residence—a rare and unforgettable delicacy. To his surprise, Jiang Hai had it too. If the beef was truly as good as it seemed, Du Famen's second goal might soon be realized.