The cold wind howled, and the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed as a group of young men galloped on horseback, their laughter wild and unrestrained.

Second Young Master Chen was among them, dressed in a striking black outfit that stood out starkly amidst the others’ thick fur coats.

As the group reined in their horses, someone noticed Second Young Master Chen’s unusual attire and started gossiping.

“What’s with Chen Er today? Why is he dressed so lightly?”

“Did you forget? A few days ago, he wore a fur coat, but because of his plump figure, Young Master Qian mistook him for a black bear. It caused such a commotion!”

“Maybe he’s trying to wash away the humiliation this time by wearing something thinner?” The speaker, however, doubted it would work.

While Second Young Master Chen might appear dashing now, once the cold wind cut through him, he’d likely give in and put on his fur coat again. The incident might have been forgotten, but his antics would only serve to remind everyone, even those who hadn’t heard of it before.

Hearing their whispers, Second Young Master Chen glanced at the others, their bulky figures clad in fur. A glint of smugness flashed across his brow.

Laugh all you want. Soon, you’ll see how prepared this young master is.

During the hunt, the constant movement and focus on the chase distracted many from the biting cold. But as the pace slowed and they headed back to the makeshift camp for a break, the wind sliced through like a knife, leaving faces stinging. Even those in fur coats felt a creeping chill.

“This weather is just too cold!” someone grumbled. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have come out.”

“Why complain now? Besides, no matter how cold you are, you can’t be as cold as Second Young Master Chen. With that outfit of his, he must be—”

“What the…?” The person trailed off mid-sentence, their eyes fixed on something to the side. Curious, the other turned to look and froze in disbelief.

While many had hunched over from the cold, their faces pale, Second Young Master Chen, clad in his thin outfit, stood tall and upright, showing no signs of discomfort.

It wasn’t just a case of him pretending to be unaffected; by now, anyone wearing such light clothing would have succumbed to the cold and fallen ill. Yet there he stood, full of vigor.

Their reaction drew attention from others in the group, and soon, all eyes were on Second Young Master Chen. The very people who had mocked him earlier now felt utterly humiliated. They were thankful that their voices had been muffled by the wind, sparing them from total disgrace.

“Brother Chen, how are you not cold at all?” one of his closer companions finally asked. The others, though feigning indifference, all strained to catch his response.

Second Young Master Chen took in their reactions with concealed glee. Though his face remained calm, his heart was practically singing.

It was worth it. Ever since I discovered how warm these wool sweaters are, I knew this moment would be my triumph. Who even remembers the old joke now?

Having secured his dignity, his mood brightened considerably. He didn’t hesitate to share the secret of the wool sweater.

Though priced at fifteen taels of silver per piece—a hefty sum for most—the group consisted of wealthy young scions. Spending a few dozen taels on a unique garment wasn’t much of a burden.

Hearing about the sweater’s rarity and seeing the reactions of those around them, many became visibly eager. They couldn’t bear the thought of others getting one first and strutting around while they were left out in the cold—literally and figuratively.

Young people, after all, loved to look stylish. In winter, balancing style and warmth was always a challenge. Now that a solution existed, everyone wanted a piece of it.

Shopkeeper Fang never expected Second Young Master Chen’s display to bring such a flood of business. The wool sweaters Jiang Huai had left at Fang Ji Ready-made Clothing Store were snapped up almost instantly.

Had Second Young Master Chen not mentioned the limited stock, the young nobles—knowing each other well—might have avoided conflict. But now, some were ready to buy out all the sweaters in one go, ensuring only they could flaunt the look.

Shopkeeper Fang, oblivious to the silent competitions among the noble youths, was instead overwhelmed by a sweet dilemma.

The demand for sweaters far exceeded the supply. Customers who missed out kept pestering him to restock, and Shopkeeper Fang eagerly agreed. After finally seeing off his high-profile customers, he looked at the silver he had earned and couldn’t help pinching himself to confirm it wasn’t a dream. Just days ago, he had worried about selling the sweaters. Now, they couldn’t keep up with demand.

Even if this was a one-time boom, earning five taels per sweater meant that selling a dozen or so would net him fifty or sixty taels—essentially free money.

Unable to contain his excitement, Shopkeeper Fang rushed to find Jiang Huai, eager to replenish his stock. After handing over the silver, he collected the newly woven sweaters from Jiang Huai.

“Gong zi Jiang, is this all? Don’t you have more?” he asked, dissatisfied despite receiving the last of the stock.

But Jiang Huai’s supply was indeed exhausted. Shopkeeper Fang had no choice but to leave after some futile cajoling.

Before departing, he urged Jiang Huai, “The demand is huge right now. Strike while the iron is hot! If we wait too long, the craze might fade, and the sweaters won’t sell as well.”

Jiang Huai nodded thoughtfully. He understood the logic. The high price of the sweaters was only sustainable in the short term. Unless he intentionally created scarcity to drive demand, scaling up production would inevitably lower prices.

Expansion is necessary.

After some deliberation, Jiang Huai decided he needed more people to spin yarn and knit sweaters. Luo Yuan, ever dependable, was the first to volunteer.

With good food and rest, He Shi’s health had also improved significantly in recent days, making her fit to help with the work.

Previously, Luo Yuan hadn’t pressed Jiang Huai about hiring He Shi, fearing he might appear greedy. But now that Jiang Huai himself suggested expanding, Luo Yuan didn’t hesitate to propose her involvement.

Having grown to admire Luo Yuan’s gratitude and He Shi’s work ethic, Jiang Huai readily agreed. She was trustworthy and capable—a perfect fit for the task.

Still, Jiang Huai knew he needed at least one more worker. While he pondered where to find reliable help, Xiao Jingzhao offered assistance.

“You’re hiring?” Jiang Huai asked, surprised.

Xiao Jingzhao nodded. “The method for making wool and sweaters is a trade secret. It’s best not to trust just anyone. I’ve come across some refugees outside the city who could sign indentured contracts. It’s safer that way.”

Jiang Huai hesitated but eventually agreed. Xiao Jingzhao’s reasoning was sound. Regular hires could easily betray the business for better offers, but indentured contracts carried severe consequences for disloyalty.

Though it was likely that the method for producing wool and sweaters would eventually become common knowledge, caution was essential in the meantime.

Trusted workers are the key to success.

However, upon hearing about the contracts, Luo Yuan hesitated. While he was willing to let He Shi work for Jiang Huai, an indentured contract was a step too far. Even though Jiang Huai and Xiao Jingzhao seemed fair, he couldn’t accept the idea.

“Sir, about my mother…” Luo Yuan began, conflicted.

“She can simply sign a confidentiality agreement,” Jiang Huai said with a wave of his hand. He had no intention of demanding more from He Shi. For her, a simple work agreement would suffice.