Chapter Ten: The Sweet Soup Business

The dark brown beverage flowed from the enormous glass container, gurgling as it filled the cup below. Qingyi waited patiently until the liquid was nearly brimming, then released her finger from the lever. Ziye Su had spent the entire night preparing a substantial amount of concentrated syrup. Only a small portion had been distributed by the Third Prince, while Carlotus, not one to be left out, had claimed a large cask for his own office.

After all, it was plain to see that this drink would soon become a highly coveted commodity within the Academy. In that case, keeping a cask in his office was nothing if not prudent.

“It’s strange. He only met the Third Prince not long ago, yet somehow he seems to understand His Highness better than any of us,” Qingyi remarked with genuine admiration, taking a sip of what had been dubbed “Academy Joywater.”

“Some people are just born prepared,” Carlotus replied with a smile from behind his desk, his own half-finished glass of Joywater before him. “If you tried to learn about his past, you’d realize that, for him, all of this is only natural.”

“How much do you think he stands to earn from this venture?” Qingyi couldn’t help but ask.

“Isn’t that what you should be concerned about?” Carlotus countered.

He and Ziye Su had agreed on a challenge: within one year, to transform a single Goldleaf into a value of one million Goldleaves through such operations. Yet today was only the second day since their agreement, and Ziye Su had already presented Qingyi with an enormous surprise. Her skepticism, once unshakable, now wavered considerably.

“We still don’t know what price he’ll set for us,” Qingyi mused. At Ye Night Academy, direct sales to students weren’t allowed. All purchases had to be made in bulk by the Academy—or more precisely, by the Student Council—and then distributed free of charge to every student.

Naturally, bulk procurement usually secured a more favorable price than retail, and moreover, doing business with the Academy was every merchant’s dream.

“Then what do you estimate his costs to be?” Carlotus chose to steer the conversation.

“Costs?” Qingyi recalled, “Last night, they used ingredients bought with that single Goldleaf. I’ve already asked them to provide detailed accounts as soon as possible. The final product amounted to roughly two hundred kilograms, though the precise figure will depend on the records.”

“As for the proportions, the syrup is mixed with water at about one to twenty to produce the finished drink. There’s also a carbonation process we haven’t mastered—Ziye Su’s core technique. Furthermore, we don’t fully grasp the syrup’s production process itself, so for now, there’s no way to replicate it.” Qingyi’s tone was thoroughly professional. “But it’s clear this is an extremely lucrative opportunity.”

“Selling only in the Academy is small potatoes. If the distribution network could extend to Ye Night City and even radiate outward, the profits would be substantial.”

“But even that isn’t enough to reach the one million Goldleaf target,” Carlotus concluded calmly. “Still, I believe his methods go far beyond what we’ve seen.”

“At least his first step has been a success,” Qingyi countered. “The next big challenge is scaling up production. Last night’s small trial run worked, but he can’t possibly spend every night toiling away endlessly. It’s not realistic. How he’ll train enough workers to replace himself is a major problem—unless…”

She paused, suddenly struck by a possibility, but quickly dismissed it. “No, there is no ‘unless.’”

“What if there is?” Carlotus seemed to know what she meant, smiling gently.

“If he does that, would you stop him?” Qingyi looked at Carlotus.

“Give me a reason to do so first,” Carlotus replied serenely, meeting her gaze.

Qingyi was momentarily at a loss for words. “Would any student willingly agree to such work?”

“Why not?” Carlotus chuckled. “We can imagine that the Academy is forever filled with the most capable, unemployed young people in the world—and Ziye Su just so happens to offer them a perfect position.”

“But isn’t that a terrible waste of talent?” Qingyi argued. “These are people destined to change the world. Why would they willingly follow Ziye Su just to make sweet water?”

Indeed, no matter what name it went by, this Academy Joywater was, at its heart, merely sweetened water—perhaps tastier than most, but sweet water all the same.

At that moment, a gentle knock sounded at the door.

“Speak of the devil,” Carlotus glanced at the entrance, smiling.

“Should I open it?” Qingyi asked him.

“It’s never good to turn someone away, and besides, he’s here to negotiate with us,” Carlotus replied calmly, then called toward the door, “Come in.”

Before the words had faded, Ziye Su entered. The young man still wore his spotless, immaculate black Student Council uniform, looking more proper and composed than anyone.

“The Long March has finally taken its first step,” Ziye Su declared without preamble. “As expected, Academy Joywater is certain to find an excellent market within the Academy.”

“Conservatively, I estimate that the Academy will soon consume over ten thousand cups of Joywater each day. Considering the drink is free and some students are bound to become avid enthusiasts, consumption could reach twenty thousand cups daily. Even at ten thousand cups of five hundred milliliters each, that’s five thousand liters of Joywater a day, requiring two hundred and fifty liters of syrup.” Ziye Su looked at Carlotus. “Is the Academy prepared?”

“Or should I ask if you’re prepared?” Carlotus responded evenly, “Your current production capacity is nowhere near sufficient for that level of demand.”

Neither of them disputed the existence of this future shortfall. With the Third Prince personally promoting the product, and with everyone present having tasted it—and given that it would be distributed freely and in virtually unlimited quantities within the Academy—the demand was self-evident.

Even if students didn’t drink it as water, in an Academy of eight thousand, one cup per student per day would require eight thousand cups. In truth, both Qingyi and Carlotus had already consumed more than just a single cup that day.

The gap between supply and demand was undeniable.

Last night, Ziye Su had produced just over two hundred liters at best. In other words, his entire night’s labor would barely cover the following day’s consumption.

“That’s not for the President to worry about,” Ziye Su said, meeting his eyes. “Your question should be—”

“How do I intend to set the price?”