He lounged in a relaxed posture. “Assistant Qiu, don’t think I’m trying to shortchange you. Under intellectual property law, this bracelet is an antique piece—long past any creator’s copyright term. It’s already fallen into the public domain, available for anyone to use. Me offering you a one percent royalty cut is already pretty generous.”
“Besides, all you’re providing is the bracelet itself. The marketing, packaging, raw material sourcing, production, online and offline sales channels, even after-sales follow-up—all of that falls on my side. And frankly, I wouldn’t have told you this plan at all if I were worried you’d run off with the idea. In this city, I’m the only one with the connections to get this bracelet onto television in front of the masses, then let the internet amplify the buzz and milk public sentiment.”
“Young Master Jiang, you make a fair point.”
But Qiuyun wasn’t some naive newbie who had never run a shop or read up on relevant laws. “The bracelet’s design and style may have entered the public domain, so I indeed can’t claim design royalties. But Young Master Jiang should be clear—the bracelet’s real value doesn’t lie in its design. It’s in the complex hidden clasp mechanism and the story behind that letter of divorce. My bracelet serves as the sole production template and the storytelling centerpiece, which in intellectual property terms falls under a licensing fee for reproduction rights.”
“As for the marketing and sales on the back end—which product does Young Master Jiang sell that doesn’t require those same steps? It’s not like you’re building a new production line just for this bracelet. If you’re offering me such a low reproduction fee, is it just because Young Master Jiang and I happen to have such a special connection?”
Jiang Yifeng narrowed his eyes.
To be honest, he had pegged Qiuyun as a top-tier assistant with both emotional intelligence and technical skill. He had headhunted her for two reasons: she would look good by his side, and she was sharp enough to untangle sticky interpersonal problems in the business world.
But he hadn’t expected her to know this much about product sales and royalty percentages—she certainly didn’t come across as someone with no assets to her name.
With that thought, Jiang Yifeng put a hand on his hip. “Fine. I do need your bracelet to sell the story. Name your price.”
“Five percent of sales revenue, plus an annual reproduction licensing fee of five hundred thousand.” Qiuyun’s voice was steady. “Young Master Jiang should know I’m not asking for the moon.”
Jiang Yifeng stroked his chin.
She wasn’t overcharging, that was true. But as the buyer, he had the leverage and capital to push the price down another one or two points.
Still... looking at Assistant Qiu’s striking, refined face and those calm, clear eyes, Jiang Yifeng decided not to press harder. He agreed to the terms.
“Assistant Qiu should also realize I could have bargained you down,” Jiang Yifeng extended his hand. “But I want to do you this favor. Pleasure doing business.”
“Thank you, Young Master Jiang, for being generous.” Qiuyun gave his hand a light shake. “Pleasure doing business.”
The contracts were signed within half an hour. Jiang Yifeng’s finance assistant immediately transferred five hundred thousand into Qiuyun’s account.
As a partner earning a five percent cut, Qiuyun offered a suggestion. “Why not get the product manufactured and on the shelves before you go on TV to promote it? Audience emotions have a hype window—wait too long, and people might not be as eager to buy.”
“Don’t worry.” Jiang Yifeng signed the last document. “When it comes to harvesting consumer emotional value, we capitalists are professionals.”
Hah. As if I didn’t know you’re a heartless capitalist.
One percent—shame you even had the nerve to offer that.
Qiuyun rose to leave. “Then I’ll trust you on that. I’ll wait for good news from Young Master Jiang.”
Jiang Yifeng handed his pen to the assistant. “What’s this? We just sealed the deal, and Assistant Qiu won’t even stay for lunch?”
“I’ve got things to take care of at home—really can’t spare the time.” Qiuyun pulled out her phone to confirm the transfer had arrived. “You don’t mind if I bring an accountant along for the year-end audit, do you?”
Jiang Yifeng chuckled. “Of course not. I’d have reminded you to do exactly that if you hadn’t brought it up.”
“Good. See you around, Young Master Jiang.” Qiuyun gave a polite nod and turned to leave.
“Tsk. See you.”
She really didn’t give him an inch, did she?
Once she was gone, Jiang Yifeng snapped his fingers. His assistant leaned in. “Boss?”
“Hand this product to Selina. It needs to be turned into the viral hit of the year.”
Exactly as Qiuyun had said—a tale of dying for one’s country mixed with lingering regret was a precise hook for every customer who loved jewelry, male or female. And the silver pieces weren’t expensive.
Whether for personal wear or as a gift, it carried real meaning.
The assistant nodded. “Understood.”
After blocking two spam calls, Qiuyun had just left the auction house when she got a call from a colleague in the art department.
“What’s up, Meimei?” She strolled slowly down the antique street, hoping she might get lucky with another bargain find.
“Miss Qiu.” A cool, youthful male voice came through the phone—Pei Cizhou’s. “Why did you hang up on me?”
“Oh, that was your number.” Qiuyun crouched in front of a stall. “I don’t answer unknown calls.”
Pei Cizhou stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, glancing at the electronic clock on the wall. “I heard Aunt Yu found a new companion reader for Little Seven. Are you... busy today?”
Qiuyun picked up a copper coin.
Honestly, after dealing with Young Master Jiang’s ruthless capitalist tactics, a straightforward and generous client like Young Master Pei was practically an angel sent from heaven!
She was about to say “Not busy,” when the copper coin she had been fiddling with was snatched—half grabbed, half taken—by the stall owner, who then wiped it carefully and placed it in a little box.
“?”
Qiuyun froze, momentarily forgetting to reply to the call.
Growing impatient from the silence, Pei Cizhou’s voice betrayed a hint of agitation as he drummed his fingers on the desk, lowering his tone. “Chief Artist Qiu, you said that once Little Seven starts school, you’d have more time for the company’s work.”
“Got it. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Qiuyun hung up and looked at the stall owner. Even her usually unshakeable composure cracked, and her voice went up a notch. “Seriously, is this how you do business?! It’s your own stuff sitting out on the stall—who snatches things back from a customer’s hands?! Not even allowed to look at it? Why don’t you just put it in a glass case and frame it?!”
The stall owner tucked the copper coin into the big canvas bag behind him, then flashed an apologetic grin. “Why don’t you take a look at something else?”
Suppressing her irritation, Qiuyun frowned and glanced around—only to find that the nearby stall owners were all enthusiastically waving her over.
?
A sudden realization struck Qiuyun.
“Tsk. So you’ve all decided to treat me as a free appraiser?”
Even a city-slicker like Young Master Jiang had heard about how she’d scored a huge bargain on the antique street by bundling purchases on a little stall.
The small-time vendors right next to the action naturally knew all about it too.
“Fine, then.” Qiuyun stood up and dusted off her hands, ready to give up on this antique street altogether.
“Hey, hey, gorgeous, don’t leave!” The stall owner scrambled to stop her. “You’ve got a sharp eye—how about you do us a favor and take a look at a few more pieces?”
Tsk. Strangers who’d just disrespected her, and now they wanted a free ride off her expertise?
Qiuyun gave a light snort, pretending to walk off in a huff, then suddenly lit up and slowly reached toward an old manuscript on his stall. “That one...”
Quick as a flash, the stall owner snatched the book and clutched it to his chest.
Qiuyun turned and walked away.
Ha! Carbon-14 dating isn’t cheap, you know.
Half an hour later.
Qiuyun took a cab to Jiahe Tech Tower.
