Pra Walton's identity was no secret to the world. As one of the Walton family's heiresses, she had long been in the spotlight. Though born into privilege, it was her own ability that made her stand out.
Naturally, the women around her had also been thoroughly investigated. Their backgrounds were crystal clear, and every nation was eager to place their people within her circle.
Cheryl Lee and the others were among those carefully selected—not as spies, but as intermediaries. They weren't placed there by their nations from the start; rather, they were recruited after their potential was recognized.
They served as mouthpieces, nothing more. Pra Walton and Walmart needed them to deliver messages to governments and, in turn, convey information back. But these women held no real power. Their roles ended at being conduits.
Among the five women by Pra Walton's side, only Isabelle Rolland was entrusted with specific responsibilities. The others were ornaments, tasked with appearances alone. Isabelle's position stemmed largely from her orphan background, which made her both discreet and reliable.
Meanwhile, Jiang Hai's forage had shaken the global livestock industry to its core. Every country and major livestock player was keeping a close eye on him, desperate for a share. They had seen what his grass could do.
But an open attack was impossible. Jiang Hai's influence, connections, and sheer stubbornness made him untouchable. Even covert methods had failed. His position in the U.S. was stronger than anyone expected.
If force wouldn't work, perhaps negotiation would. Following Du Famen's example, some thought a private approach might succeed.
Still, many countries scoffed at the idea of simply buying his grass. To them, Jiang Hai's estate was small—how much could he realistically produce? Leaders like Barbara Martina of Argentina and Filho Fallio of Australia, both present around Pra Walton, had no personal dealings with Jiang Hai. That was proof enough: they didn't want the grass itself, but the secret behind it. Without the technology, the grass was worthless to them.
Others took a different stance. Cheryl Lee, for example, approached Jiang Hai directly, passing along South Korea's intention to purchase some of his forage.
Jiang Hai only smiled at the news. If they wanted to buy grass, he'd sell it. He had recently cleared a large patch of land precisely for such sales. But if their intentions extended beyond that... well, the answer would be different.
"I'll discuss it with Pra tomorrow," Jiang Hai told Cheryl Lee with a smile. She didn't mind his deflection, and after delivering her message, she retired for the night.
Watching her graceful figure fade from sight, Jiang Hai felt an urge rise, though his body was weary. With a wry grin, he forced it down. After finishing his drink, he returned to his room, eventually falling asleep with Cheryl Lee nestled in his arms.
The next morning, Jiang Hai stopped Pra Walton before she left for work, recounting Cheryl Lee's words. After listening, Pra Walton suggested he consider opening sales to South Korea. Jiang Hai needed to sell his hay, and expanding the buyer pool beyond Du Famen and Luke Shawn could be a smart move.
But she also warned him to tread carefully. The business world was a battlefield, and international politics were even more treacherous. Nations could be ungrateful; Jiang Hai had to be prepared.
Taking her words to heart, Jiang Hai called Qi Li and Moses Adams to discuss. Together, they agreed he should handle things personally but in a controlled way.
The solution was simple: gather all interested buyers at once, divide the grass fairly, and avoid endless negotiations. Most importantly, this approach would drive the price up while sparing him from tedious back-and-forth.
Jiang Hai hated dealing with politicians and businessmen. He was clever but loathed wasting time on empty talk. Directness suited him best.
Once the plan was made, he consulted Pra Walton again. She agreed, noting that while it might not maximize profits, it would save time and trouble—an ideal compromise.
With her support, Jiang Hai handed the logistics to Moses Adams. They scheduled the distribution meeting for the day before Mid-Autumn Festival, giving Jiang Hai enough time to return home for the holiday afterward.
True to his nature, Jiang Hai acted swiftly. He booked the entire top floor of the Boston Harbor Hotel, including the banquet hall, spending more than three million dollars. But the cost meant nothing to him. The profits from this move wouldn't be in the millions—they would be in the billions.
Moses Adams began making calls, starting with Du Famen.
When Du Famen heard Jiang Hai was opening sales publicly, he fumed at his own guards and the islanders who had ruined his chance at exclusivity. If not for them, Jiang Hai's ranch might have been his alone. With Jiang Hai's expansion, that could have meant not fifty billion, but a hundred billion in profit.
For context: in 2012, Dubai's GDP was $86.7 billion. Thanks to his partnership with Jiang Hai, Du Famen had personally added fifty billion to that figure. One man had boosted Dubai's economy by 30%. If not for betrayal within his circle, the numbers could have been even higher.
But anger wouldn't change things. Swallowing his resentment, Du Famen was the first to accept Jiang Hai's invitation.
Next, Moses Adams called Luke Shawn. After a long discussion, Luke also agreed. He recognized the futility of private dealings and knew he had no choice but to come to the table.
Meanwhile, Cheryl Lee relayed the offer to South Korea. Their representative had wanted private negotiations, but when they saw Jiang Hai's intent to bring matters into the open, they reluctantly agreed. Their relationship wasn't the best, but they couldn't afford to miss out.
Other invitations spread as well. Some accepted eagerly, while others—those who had hoped for Jiang Hai's secret rather than his grass—lost interest and withdrew.
Still, Moses Adams's list showed a dozen major buyers had committed to attending. These weren't small farmers, but regional powers, countries, or large-scale landowners.
Among them were six Americans, though only three stood out: Luke Shawn, representing Texas; Archie Oldison-Emerson, a wealthy California rancher; and John Malone, the largest landowner in the United States, with over 2.2 million acres. Though Malone himself didn't come, he sent his son to represent Montana's interests.
Even so, the clout of these families far outweighed that of minor investors.
Moses categorized them as first-tier clients—alongside Du Famen and South Korea. Ironically, those representing entire nations were often the weakest financially.
Governments earned a lot, but they spent even more. South Korea, in particular, was fragile. Its GDP leaned heavily on conglomerates like Samsung, but who really believed Samsung paid its full share of taxes? Hardly anyone. Among all of Jiang Hai's potential buyers, South Korea was likely the most desperate of all.
(To be continued.)