William Turner spread his hands and said, "I don't understand either!"

　　"So what should we do? How about we quickly return the silver?" Mr. Turner said worriedly.

　　William Turner was completely defeated and had no choice but to lay all his cards on the table.

　　"Father. Since we don't understand, we can subcontract it out. Simply put, we find someone to do it for us. After thinking it over, Uncle Brooks is the most suitable candidate."

　　As they were speaking, Mrs. Brooks walked in again. She wanted to ask how the chicken should be cooked—braised or stewed in soup. Hearing William Turner mention the head of the household, she immediately became alert.

　　"Young master, what do you want that old ghost to do? No offense, but the head of the house is busy with the shop all day long and really doesn't have the time."

　　William Turner knew exactly what she was thinking. If she wanted to play mind games with him, she’d need to practice for another ten lifetimes!

　　"That's a pity. We just took on a carpentry job, and here’s a deposit of twenty taels. But my father and I are both laymen, so we wanted to discuss with Uncle Brooks who would be the right person for the job!"

　　Mrs. Brooks saw the big silver ingot on the table, and her eyes lit up instantly, brighter than a lightbulb.

　　"Young master, no need to look for anyone else. That old ghost’s skills are good enough."

　　William Turner hesitated slightly and asked, "Uncle Brooks has to run the shop, and besides, this carpentry job won’t earn us dozens of taels. I’m afraid..."

　　Dozens of taels!

　　Mrs. Brooks's eyes sparkled with stars, and she almost jumped up, grabbing William Turner's arm.

　　"Young master, dear ancestor! Just leave this job to Old Brooks. I misspoke earlier. I’ll go buy some good wine right now, and we can talk it over slowly."

　　Mrs. Brooks turned around, ran to her room, changed clothes, grabbed some silver, picked up a basket, and in less than ten seconds, disappeared at the end of the street. Her efficiency was simply astonishing.

　　Sure enough, profit can drive people crazy. David Reed was right. William Turner shook his head and sighed.

　　……

　　As the lanterns were lit, on the wooden table sat a plate of scrambled eggs, a plate of edamame, a plate of greens, a bowl of hot and sour soup, and in the center, a large bowl of braised chicken. Beside it was a jar of huadiao wine—more sumptuous than New Year’s.

　　Mrs. Brooks's cooking was indeed excellent. William Turner ate happily and said with a smile, "Uncle Brooks, the first thing we need is twenty merit boxes, each two feet high, one foot wide, and five inches thick, with a slot on top for copper coins and small silver pieces."

　　As William Turner spoke, he quickly sketched a design. Mrs. Brooks nodded repeatedly.

　　"Heh, this is even easier than making a wedding chest. No need for any carving or decoration. I can make three to five a day," Mrs. Brooks said, patting his chest.

　　"Yes, and also prayer beads, small Buddha statues, incense sticks, and wax candles. I can provide the designs, but the craftsmanship must be exquisite."

　　Mrs. Brooks frowned in thought. Mrs. Brooks, standing beside him, slapped his shoulder and laughed, "Why are you being silly? Doesn’t Thomas Reed know how to make clay rabbits?"

　　That thing can be made too? William Turner almost spat out his food.

　　Mrs. Brooks, not understanding, explained, "It’s just a clay figurine. On the fifteenth of August, women worship the moon goddess, and to keep the children from making trouble, they give them a clay rabbit to play with, painted with gold lacquer. Young master, haven’t you seen one before?"

　　"I have, I have." William Turner coughed twice. Clearly, he had misunderstood.

　　But Mrs. Brooks looked a bit worried and said, "Making clay rabbits isn’t the same as making Buddha statues. If it doesn’t turn out well, I’m afraid..."

　　"Hehe, Uncle Brooks, don’t worry. Just let Thomas Reed give it a try. Tell him, clay rabbits only sell during the Mid-Autumn Festival, but Buddha statues sell all year round. This is a long-term business, and the price is fair."

　　Mrs. Brooks rubbed his hands together. Nothing is as practical as money. He smiled and said, "Alright, I’ll go ask him."

　　Mrs. Brooks thought for a moment and timidly asked, "Young master, do you think I could make the prayer beads?"

　　Before William Turner could reply, Mrs. Brooks waved his hand. Maybe after a couple of drinks, he was feeling manly and boldly said, "What are you meddling for? The young master wants fine craftsmanship—what do you know!"

　　Mrs. Brooks slapped the table and immediately protested, angrily saying, "So what if I don’t know? I can figure it out! I know people at the furniture shop, and I can get leftover materials from them. Old Smith in our village makes prayer beads and gives them to us during festivals! And Mrs. Carter next door makes incense, and there are others who do embroidery. I can gather them all, and at most, we just pay them a bit. It’s the slack farming season right now anyway."

　　Talent!

　　Isn’t this just subcontracting? William Turner got the project and startup funds from Tianfei Temple, then subcontracted to The Brooks Couple, and they subcontracted further. The beginnings of an industrial chain were already forming!

　　Looks like he really found the right people. With Aunt Brooks being so capable, he could save himself a lot of trouble.

　　"Excellent, Aunt Brooks. Later, I’ll make a list with the designs, quantities, and prices. Once it’s set, we’ll place the orders."

　　"The young master is so straightforward! Even though I’m just a woman, I’ll drink with you all!"

　　As Mrs. Brooks spoke, she picked up a large wine cup, filled it with huadiao, and downed it in one gulp.

Chapter 7: To Take, One Must First Give