Under the gentle early summer morning light, the Prime Minister's residence seemed draped in a dreamy veil. The lush grape trellis resembled a vast green umbrella. Sunlight filtered through the layers of leaves, casting a shimmering, shimmering pattern on the bluestone floor like fine gold foil. The interplay of light and shadow created a delicate and fantastical painting, each ray of light and shadow telling a silent story.
Amidst this dreamlike light and shadow, Jiang Xiaocai squatted in the corner of the garden, staring intently at the crystal-clear maltose in his hand. His brows were furrowed, their small brows forming a knot, as if hiding countless puzzles waiting to be solved. His concentration was so intense that it could pinch a fly to death.
Jiang Xiaocai, just thirteen years old this year, is the only son of Jiang Yan and Nian Li. He perfectly blends his mother's shrewdness and his grandfather's academic prowess. His eyes often gleam with intelligence, and his mind is as agile as a deer. However, when it comes to staying grounded, he unreservedly replicates the whimsical nature of his great-uncle, Young Marquis Su. His mind is constantly churning out surprising and surprising ideas, a source of both infuriating and amusing alike.
"Xiaocai, what are you thinking about hiding here?" Lu'e walked towards Jiang Xiaocai with light steps, holding a bowl of iced sour plum soup steadily in her hands. She walked slowly like a swaying flower. She saw the candy tightly grasped in Jiang Xiaocai's hand and couldn't help but shake her head slightly, her eyes full of helplessness. She whispered angrily, "Madam said, if you don't study hard, I will throw you into the bookstore as an apprentice. Let's see if you can still indulge in such idle thoughts."
Jiang Xiaocai suddenly raised his head, and his originally focused eyes instantly flashed with a sharp gleam, like a torch suddenly lit in the darkness. He stood up suddenly and loudly retorted: "Be an apprentice? I won't do that! I want to be a boss in the future!" As he said that, he slammed the malt sugar in his hand on the stone table. The crisp sound seemed to be the solemn oath he had made. He looked excited, like a soldier about to step onto the battlefield, and shouted: "Lue'e, look at this sugar! How precious it is! If I could control the sugar industry in the world, I could buy as many sugar paintings as I want. Not to mention a whole room, even ten rooms of sugar paintings would be no problem!"
Hearing this, Lu'e nearly dropped the plum juice in her hand. She looked at Jiang Xiaocai with a mixture of anger and amusement, saying, "Young Master, stop imagining things! Last time you said you wanted to resell rouge, what happened? You ended up with a room full of 'Death Barbie Pink,' and my wife is still using that rouge to paint the fence. You better be more careful!"
Jiang Xiaocai curled his lips in disdain and said unconvincedly: "That was just an accident, pure bad luck! This time is completely different from the last time. I really saw the huge business opportunity in the sugar industry! Grandma once said that business opportunities are like the fine threads of sugar painting. If you are not careful, they will slip away. You must be quick-eyed and quick-handed to grab them while they are hot!" He became more and more excited as he spoke, with excitement flashing in his eyes, as if he had already seen the glorious scene of himself standing at the pinnacle of the sugar industry. As he gestured, he spoke incessantly, "Think about it. In this capital, from the mansions of high-ranking officials to the homes of ordinary people, who can live without sugar? If there were no sugar in the bun shop, how would the buns taste worse? If there was no sugar to blend the fragrance in the rouge shop, how could they make those alluring rouge powders? As long as I can firmly control the source of sugar, then the price of sugar will be mine. Then, I can sell it at any price I want. The entire sugar industry in the capital will revolve around me!"
Lu'e sighed helplessly. She knew that once this little ancestor made up his mind, no one could stop him. It looked like he was going to cause a big commotion. Sure enough, at dawn the next day, just as the sky was beginning to turn pale, the glimmer of morning light, like soft silk, just as it quietly fell on the eaves and corners of the prime minister's residence, Jiang Xiaocai quietly got up, secretly pocketed the New Year's money his grandfather had given him, and like a nimble and cunning little mouse, he slipped out of the prime minister's residence without a sound.
Jiang Xiaocai trotted along, and soon arrived at the largest sugar mill in Beijing. He tried to straighten his still-small frame, trying to appear taller and more imposing. He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound steady and powerful, and asked the mill owner in a sophisticated manner, "Boss, how much are your sugars?" However, despite his best efforts to conceal it, his childish face and youthful temperament still inadvertently revealed themselves.
The owner of the sugar shop was busy with his work. When he heard the sound, he casually glanced at Jiang Xiaocai. Seeing that he was just a half-grown child, he lazily responded, "Boy, if you want to buy some candy, go home to your mother. Don't make trouble here. I'm busy here."
Seeing this, Jiang Xiaocai quickly pulled out a shining silver ingot from his pocket. Under the rising sun, the silver shone brightly, as if telling of its value. Jiang Xiaocai held the silver high and said loudly, "I'm not here to buy candy, I'm here to buy your candy shop!"
The sugar mill owner was stunned at first, as if he hadn't heard Jiang Xiaocai's words clearly. Then, he burst into a deafening roar of laughter, a laughter that seemed to blow the roof off the sugar mill. He pointed at Jiang Xiaocai and said, almost breathlessly, "You...you want to buy my sugar mill? Little brat, stop daydreaming here and go home to your mother! Hahahaha!"
Jiang Xiaocai's face flushed red with anger, like a ripe tomato. He glared at the sugar mill owner and stormed out of the mill. He then went to several more sugar mills, but the responses he received were almost identical: the owners, without exception, treated him like an ignorant, mischievous child and scoffed at his words.
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