Hughes Lawrence widened his mung bean-sized eyes, utterly confused about when he had gained a new relative in Whitaker Scarlett.
With Whitaker Scarlett being so strikingly attractive, even if they were distant relatives, Hughes Lawrence would surely remember her if they had met before. Scarlett didn’t give him much time to dwell on it.
“My name is Whitaker Scarlett. Uncle Bruce asked me to come find you,” she said.
Hughes Lawrence thought for a moment. “Bruce from the family that sells eel noodles?”
He and Hughes Bruce were indeed relatives, though their families didn’t interact often. Since Hughes Lawrence had some minor authority, he was always wary of people coming to him for favors without reason.
Scarlett quickly handed him the bag in her hand. “I have a small matter to trouble you with, Brother Lawrence.”
The moment Hughes Lawrence caught sight of the contents of the bag, his eyelid twitched.
Such a trivial matter, and she was offering a carton of premium cigarettes.
His first instinct was to decline, but Scarlett didn’t give him much room to overthink. She got straight to the point, explaining her request for him to act as a middleman to help sell some eels.
“If you think it’s doable, I’ve brought some samples,” she added.
Samples? More like leftover stock from the farmers’ market.
Hughes Lawrence immediately understood the situation. Purchasing some eels wasn’t a big deal, but offering a carton of cigarettes was indeed excessive.
Looking at the eels Scarlett brought, they were quite large and honestly met the procurement standards. However, Scarlett had made a special trip and even given such a significant gift. There was no way this was just about selling twenty-something pounds of eels. How much money could that possibly make? It wasn’t worth a carton of cigarette to build a connection.
Out of respect for their mutual relative Hughes Bruce and the valuable gift of cigarettes, Hughes Lawrence decided to be straightforward with Scarlett:
“Don’t be fooled by how large the reception center looks. For ingredients like eels, they can’t use much of it. Whether they’re leaders or ordinary officials, everyone’s daily meal budget is capped at one dollar. I can make the call to purchase the eels you brought this time, but if it’s this much every day, the reception center simply can’t consume it all.”
The reception center had its own meal standards. In addition to accommodating government and party officials visiting Harborfield, it also hosted major conferences organized by the municipal government or party committee, including the People’s Congress. Regardless of the level of the official, the meal budget was the same: one dollar per day covered by government funds, with the diner contributing one pound of grain coupons.
For one dollar, staple foods were guaranteed to be filling, and there were even some meat dishes, but eating eels every day was unrealistic!
Scarlett wasn’t discouraged. There was a hint of implication in Hughes Lawrence’s words—twenty-something pounds every day might be too much, but what about every few days?
In business, it’s all about making investments. She wasn’t aiming for a quick profit. As long as she built a good relationship with Hughes Lawrence, she wouldn’t have to worry about selling her eels in the future.
“I’ll follow your advice,” she said.
Seeing her easygoing attitude, generosity, and beauty, Hughes Lawrence’s impression of Scarlett improved significantly.
“Uncle Bruce is of a higher generation than me, so there’s no need for all this formality. Just call me by my name,” he said.
Scarlett immediately took the hint and climbed up the ladder.
“Brother Lawrence!”
Hughes Lawrence smiled so broadly that his eyes narrowed into slits. “Wait here for a moment. I’ll call someone to come and weigh the eels.”
