The Divine Sticks are adept at harnessing the power of fear, but the Merchants have to think about their own upgrades.

Those wool merchants are trying hard to sell their products in order to make money for themselves.

Just like Fei Xuechun, he will do almost anything to make Tang Zhangwei happy.

In West Francia, there was a wool merchant who gave almost everything they had in order to make some money. Yet, the damned aristocratic rebels, they almost destroyed their hopes of making a fortune.

The nobles and knights cut off the communication, and Tong Zhangwei abolished the preferential tax rate for West Francia.

Although this was only a wartime measure, it was enough to make the wool merchant feel miserable.

She longed to see McGonagall, and it was she who encouraged her. McGonagall is one of the few people who will help Alena without plundering her, raping her, or exploiting her. Alena had many specific questions to ask her about business in general and the wool trade.

It was a fair, so it took a lot of trouble for them to drive through the crowded city to the street where McGonagall lived, and finally to her house, where Alena walked into the hall. A woman she had never seen before stood there. "Oh!" Alena said, and she stopped.

"What's going on?" The woman said.

"I'm a friend of McGonagall's."

"She doesn't live here anymore," the woman said dryly.

"Oh my God." Alena didn't understand why the woman was so straightforward, "Where did she move?" ”

"Gone with her husband, who left the city in disgrace," the woman said.

Alena was disappointed and scared. She had been counting on McGonagall to easily buy her wool in bulk. "This is terrible news!"

"He's a dishonest businessman, and if I were you, I wouldn't have boasted to be her friend. Now, let's go. ”

Someone would say bad things about McGonagall, much to Alena's annoyance. "I don't care what her husband might have done, McGonagall is a good woman, much more noble than the thieves and prostitutes who live in this unclean city," she said, turning and going out of the gate before the woman could come up with a word of reciprocation.

Her sharp mouth gave her only a moment of comfort. "Bad news," she said to Richard, "McGonagall has left Winchester." ”

"Are the people who live here now wool merchants?" He said.

"I didn't ask. I was busy scolding her. That's when she felt a little silly.

"What are we going to do, Ally?"

"We'll have to sell the wool," she said worriedly, "and we'd better go to the market." ”

They turned their horses' heads and walked up the high street again, then slowly squeezed through the crowd towards the market between the high street and the cathedral. Alena led the horse, and Richard followed the cart, helping to push a cart when needed, but the horse was actually too old to push most of the time. The market was crowded, with people squeezing through the narrow passages in the middle of the stalls, and from time to time they were blocked by such cars that Alena was driving. She stopped and stood on the sheaf of wool looking for the woolmer. She could only see one. She got out of the car, led the horse, and walked in that direction.

The man had a good business. He used a rope to block a large area, and there was a shed behind it. The shed was surrounded by a balustrade, and a wooden frame was framed with a fence of twigs and reeds, which had apparently been improvised for the sake of the market. The merchant was dark-skinned, and his left arm was crippled below the elbow. Whenever someone sold wool to him, he put the broken arm into the wool, pulled out a sample with the comb, touched it with his right hand, and gave the price according to the fineness. Then, together with his wooden comb, he counted the pennies he had agreed to pay. When he met a big seller, he used a scale to weigh him.

Alena squeezed her way through the crowd and made her way to the bench. A peasant handed the merchant a very fine bundle of wool of three sheep tied on a leash. "It's too fine," said the merchant, "to give three-quarters of a penny for each sheep's wool." He took out two pennies, and then took out a small axe, and quickly and skillfully chopped the third penny into four corners. He gave the peasant twopence and a dime. "Three times three-quarter pence is twopence and a quarter of a pence."

The peasant untied his belt and handed over the wool.

Next, the two lads put a whole large bundle of wool on the counter. The merchant examined it carefully. "It's a whole bundle, but it's not in good condition," he said, "and I'll give you a pound of silver penny." ”

Alena didn't know how he could be sure that it was a whole bundle, perhaps empirically. She watched him weigh a pound of silver pennies.

Some of the monks came with a cart of wool piled up high. Alena decided to sell the wool in front of the monk. She beckoned Richard and dragged their wool bales out of the cart and onto the counter.

The merchant examined the wool. "Medium color," he said, "half a pound of silver." ”

"What?" Alena said in disbelief.

"One hundred and twenty pence," he said.

Alena was terrified. "But you just paid a bundle of pounds!"

"That's because of the difference in color."

"You pay a pound because it's not in good condition!"

"Half a pound," he repeated stubbornly.

The monks came, crowding the stalls, but Alena didn't want to move the place, her livelihood was here, and she was more afraid of the lack of money than the merchant. "Tell me clearly," she insisted, "there's nothing wrong with this wool, is it?" ”

"Nope."

"Then pay me the price you just paid for the two men just now."

"Nope."

"Why not?" She almost screamed.

"Because no one would give a girl the same price as a man."

She really wanted to strangle him, and the price he gave was lower than the price she bought, which was so infuriating. If she accepted his offer, all the work she had put into it would be in vain, and worse, her idea of supporting herself and her brother would be in vain, and her short period of self-reliance would be over. But why? Just because he won't pay a girl the same price as a man!

The leader of the monks was watching her. She hated people staring at her the most. "Look at me!" She said rudely, "Do your business with this godless man." ”

"All right," said the monk gently, beckoning to his companions, who brought up a bundle of wool.

Richard said, "Take the ten shillings, Ary." Otherwise, we will have nothing left except a bundle of wool. ”

Alena glared at the merchant fiercely, who was inspecting the monks' wool. "Medium color," he said, and she did not know if he would declare wool of good color, "a pound and twelve pence a whole bundle." ”

How could it be so unfortunate that McGonagall would be gone? Alena thought bitterly. If she's here, everything will be fine.

(End of chapter)