Episode 14 of “She’s My Mother-in-Law, But I Hate Mother-Daughter-in-Law Drama”
“Thank you.”
Jane slowly lifted her teacup and savored the taste. Her blue eyes wavered faintly after taking a sip.
“This is…”
“Quince. First time trying it?”
“Yes, it has a unique aroma.”
“It’s good for colds.”
Apparently, this world had a continent similar to Asia. I’d found imported quince syrup in the ingredient warehouse.
Anna had warned me that expensive ginger shouldn’t be served to just anyone, so I intentionally chose this instead.
Jane gently rubbed her throat, then slowly continued drinking her tea.
“……”
I’d offered her some, but I didn’t expect her to stay silent until she finished the whole cup.
A strange silence lingered between us.
“…I heard you wanted to propose a business.”
It was Jane who finally broke the silence. She placed the now-empty teacup down, folded her hands neatly on her lap, and spoke.
“Like the Goldrail family motto, I always try to be prepared, but I fear I’m just a lowly merchant and might not be able to match the insights of a grand duchess.”
I hadn’t even mentioned the business yet, but she was already offering a polite refusal.
‘She doesn’t mean that.’
“Lowly merchant,” “grand duchess’s insights”… It was all just polite talk. It was clear she didn’t want to get involved with a bothersome noble.
“I think you misunderstood. I didn’t call you here to start a joint business.”
“Pardon? Then…”
“I want to invest in your business.”
I had told Johan to deliver a letter, but it seemed Jane had misunderstood it to mean that I wanted to start a business myself. That wasn’t it at all.
‘Why would I start a business?’
In this world or the previous one, starting a business was like buying a lottery ticket. And if the business succeeded, life would only get busier. Why would I put myself through that?
I liked peace of mind. I preferred to give money to someone competent and let them run the business. Being an investor suited me just fine.
“…Forgive me, but do you know what kind of business I run?”
“Speak comfortably. I do. You sell grains and seasonings, right?”
“Yes.”
Selling grains wasn’t unprofitable, but unlike shops that sold jewelry, fabrics, or ornaments, the profits were more stable and steady.
You could earn consistent money, but there was no jackpot to be had.
That’s why Jane had tried all kinds of bizarre promotions to break through those limitations.
She held tasting events comparing different grain origins, invited chefs to do sugar sculpture demonstrations, and sold handmade seasonings—marketing ideas far ahead of the times.
‘Too far ahead, that’s the problem.’
That’s why entrepreneurship is difficult. You need a hundred reasons for success, but just one reason to fail.
Even with brilliant ideas and intelligence, she lacked the wisdom to blend them well.
Or maybe her proactive nature ended up being her own obstacle.
‘Either way, that’s a personality I like.’
Having a spirit of challenge and decisive action meant she was likely to listen to the advice of someone like me—an outsider—without prejudice.
“You’re selling flour cheaply to orphans like Johan, aren’t you? Considering that kindness, I want to make a small investment.”
The key point here was that it was an investment, not a donation. I made it clear that even though I had goodwill toward her, our relationship was business.
‘Even if I told her a business idea now, she wouldn’t accept it.’
I had a few ideas, but since she was wary of me, I didn’t plan to bring them up right away.
Once we built some trust and familiarity, I’d reveal them slowly.
“…All right. I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.”
Who would refuse someone offering money without interfering in their business?
Jane bowed her head with a reluctant expression.
“I just want my principal back. I’m not expecting major profits from the start.”
“Of course, losing the principal is a crime, isn’t it?”
“…What?”
Wait, what kind of investor-friendly law is that? Surprised, I asked, and she explained in an awkward tone as if I should’ve already known.
Apparently, when merchants receive investments from nobles, they sign contracts promising not to lose the principal.
If they do lose it, not only do they have to repay it with their personal assets—just like back on Earth—they also face criminal punishment.
No bankruptcy, no forgiving debt. Nothing nice like that.
The debt is even passed down to their descendants, and if there are no assets, the entire family is thrown in prison. They live out their lives doing forced labor with a permanent mark on their record.
‘Wow. This is a brutal scene straight out of a romance fantasy novel.’
To survive as a wealthy merchant in a world like this? That’s a dream I could never imagine having.
“If you can’t lose the principal… doesn’t that restrict funding too much?”
“That’s why high-risk trade ventures, which require a lot of investment, are considered life-or-death gambles. Those who don’t want that risk prefer safer trade routes.”
After that, Jane and I had a long conversation about business in the Empire. It was a far cry from the theoretical lectures at the academy.
The basics of economics I’d learned as a political science major were mostly about estate management and taxes—very surface-level.
‘This is actually useful.’
There really was a difference hearing it from a professional.
Way more practical and informative than any cloistered professor at the academy.
“They don’t even audit accounting records properly? Then it’s totally possible to cook the books.”
“Cook the books? What’s that?”
She blinked wide-eyed, clearly hearing the term for the first time.
I figured the concept must exist in this world under a different name, so I explained casually.
And the more I explained, the more visibly shaken Jane became.
The first impression Jane had of Wilhelmina was that of a desert flower blooming in a grassland.
A striking and rare beauty, but one that didn’t quite fit her surroundings—a woman with a peculiar allure.
‘Still, she’s just a young noble.’
When Jane first heard that Wilhelmina wanted to start a business, she scoffed at the idea, assuming it was just another childish attempt by a young noblewoman.
One of the most common foolish endeavors of newly adult noble heirs was trying to build a merchant guild.
Thinking this was just another case like that, Jane planned to humor her and then quietly withdraw.
Even though Wilhelmina offered to invest, Jane had planned to return the money untouched after some time.
But Wilhelmina turned out to be far from ordinary.
‘She’s sharp.’
It was an impolite thought to have toward a noble, but for Jane, it was the highest compliment.
Wilhelmina had no trouble keeping up with the conversation.
At first, Jane thought she was economically ignorant, but the longer they talked, the faster Wilhelmina understood everything.
It was like talking to a scholar, not a noble.
Then, she mentioned a concept Jane had never heard before:
‘Cooked books?’
In short, it referred to manipulating financial statements to show false profits.
Jane had heard of naive merchants who exaggerated their success to attract more investments. Their ends were never pleasant.
“But that’s not the only kind. There’s also reverse cooking.”
“Reverse?”
But Wilhelmina wasn’t just talking about inflated numbers. Reverse cooking involved downplaying profits.
“Why do that? Then you wouldn’t get investment.”
“Exactly. You make it look like slow but steady growth.”
To demonstrate, she took a sugar cube container from the table.
She placed cubes on an empty plate. One row had 1, 2, 3, 4 cubes; the other had 2, 3, 2, 3.
“For four years, both made the same total profit. Jane, which would you invest in?”
Obviously, the upper row. It showed clear growth, while the bottom was erratic and untrustworthy.
“But what if the bottom one is the real record, and the top one is fake?”
“Oh…”
“Investors looking to the future would pick the gradual growth. That’s why they fake it. And this isn’t the only benefit. You mix both cooking and reverse-cooking techniques.”
It was a chilling realization, like someone pouring cold water over her head.
When Jane thought about it, it wasn’t a mind-blowing technique. There were already a few major merchant guilds she’d suspected of pulling tricks like this.
She never knew how they managed such perfect growth and constant investments—until now.
No one would teach a newcomer like her this kind of trick. It was the kind of secret only those at the top shared amongst themselves.
“But if you get caught, you become a fraud, right?”
“It’s a life-or-death gamble for people who think, ‘As long as I win big and pay it back, it’s fine.’”
