Transmigrated as the Villain Boss's Precious Darling

Chapter 435: Chapter 435: The Advertising Effect is Very Good

That night, Tang Xiaonan and her family slept at Adrian Hawthorne’s house. There were only two hard plank beds. Tang Xiaonan shared one with Goldie Thorne, and the wooden planks felt as hard as a concrete floor. She didn’t sleep well all night and woke up with several red mosquito bites on her face and body.

"It’s so itchy..."

Tang Xiaonan scratched at her face nonstop, which quickly turned red. Goldie Thorne grabbed her hand. "You’ll break the skin if you keep scratching. Jim, go get a basin of water."

He didn’t need to be told; Jim Thorne had already fetched some clear, cool water from the well. Washing her face with it brought some relief, but the bites were still incredibly itchy. Jim spat into his hand, about to smear it on Tang Xiaonan’s face.

"A little spit will stop the itching."

"No way! I’ll use my own."

Tang Xiaonan backed away in horror and irritably swatted his paw away. ’There was no way she was letting someone else’s spit get on her—not even her third brother’s. It was beyond disgusting.’

Jim Thorne chuckled and wiped his hand on himself. Tang Xiaonan dabbed a bit of her own saliva on her face, and the itching did stop. But she was left with over a dozen red spots, making her face look all blotchy. ’It was like every mosquito from last night had feasted on her, while Jim and the other two didn’t have a single bite.’

"Our Xiaonan is so lovable that even the mosquitoes can’t resist her," Goldie Thorne said with a hearty laugh.

Tang Xiaonan pouted. ’That’s a kind of affection she could do without. It had been the same in her past life; whenever she went out with her friends, they would be perfectly fine while she’d get eaten alive. The mosquitoes always singled her out. It was so infuriating!’

Around noon, Winston Lowell and his two companions came over, bringing back a few finished garments. They were incredibly excited. The moment he stepped through the door, Winston shouted, "Boss, I’ve already sold dozens of feet! I took the fabric home last night, and some people dropped by for a visit. As soon as they saw the floral patterns, they said they wanted to buy some. This morning, people were already lining up at my door, terrified they wouldn’t be able to get any."

He pulled a list from his pocket, which was covered in a long string of orders: thirty feet of floral fabric for Zhang, eight feet of white fabric for Li, seven feet of red fabric for Wang—all of them workers from the machinery factory.

Adrian Hawthorne breathed an inward sigh of relief, finally feeling at ease. It was just as he’d predicted. The market for polyester was practically limitless; as long as they had the product, it was guaranteed to sell.

"Cut the fabric for them and make the deliveries. It’s seventy cents a foot. Winston, keep careful track of the books. We’ll settle the accounts later," Adrian Hawthorne said.

Winston Lowell nodded vigorously. "You can count on me. The books will be crystal clear. How do we handle the money?"

"The commission is eight cents a foot, and we’ll settle up every ten days. If you have enough capital, you can also purchase inventory to sell on your own, but the price can’t go above seventy cents. If I find any of you selling for a higher price, our partnership is over for good." Adrian Hawthorne’s tone turned serious.

"I’ll keep an eye on it. If anyone dares to mess around, I’ll make them regret it!" Winston Lowell added fiercely. He knew Adrian Hawthorne’s temperament—the man didn’t make empty threats. If they offended a golden goose like him, their own road to riches would be severed.

The heavy-set boy and his partner also voiced their agreement. They weren’t stupid; following Adrian Hawthorne was their ticket to a good life. Otherwise, they would still be the local good-for-nothings that everyone looked down on. Forget eating well—they wouldn’t even get a taste of the broth. They’d have no future, just wasting their days away. There was no way they were going back to that life.

Adrian Hawthorne’s tone softened. "The wholesale price is also fifty-five cents a foot, but the minimum order is one hundred feet. One more thing: if anyone asks where you got the fabric, just say Tristone. Don’t say anything more than that."

"Understood."

The three of them nodded solemnly.