When the businessmen saw Jiang Hai behind Edward Anderson, they couldn't help but pause and exchange glances.
To be honest, while they came from the food industry, the beef and seafood sectors were as different as land and sea. Normally, they didn't intersect—but word always traveled fast.
Just a month ago, "Jiang Hai of Winthrop" was a name only known in a few northeastern states. But now, his reputation had exploded—especially after the recent National Livestock Exhibition.
At that event, Jiang Hai's Tainlong Manor crushed the leading livestock companies from Texas and Montana, and news of it spread rapidly.
Although most of these people didn't know about Jiang Hai's dealings with Pra Walton, they did know that Walmart's Sam's Club and Haishang Supermarket had exclusive rights to his premium beef. Now, seeing the quality of his fish, they were even more surprised.
"No matter how expensive it is, there has to be a price. You're not seriously going to sell American redfish at the same price as bluefin tuna, are you?" one of the businessmen finally asked, with a trace of disbelief. Unknowingly, Tainlong Manor had already become synonymous with top-tier quality.
"That's true—it's not priced like bluefin," Edward Anderson replied calmly, "but it's still more expensive than most fish on the market. If you're not running a high-end Western restaurant or don't have an established distribution network, I won't recommend buying our fish."
He gestured to the rest of the booth and continued, "Now, these fish—barracuda, herring, mackerel, sea bream—are all wild-caught, and we're selling them at $10 per kilogram. The American redfish, raised using our most advanced aquaculture methods, is $40 per kilogram. Grouper is $60, giant grouper is $65, and Atlantic salmon is $100 per kilogram. Tiger prawns are $30 per kilogram. We only sell lobsters of a certain size, priced per piece—$5,000 each, guaranteed to weigh over 15 kilograms. King crabs are also priced by size, at $2,000 each. Tuna is a different matter altogether."
As Edward finished listing the prices, many of the smaller vendors gasped and quietly stepped away.
They remembered what the fishery companies quoted earlier: American redfish at $8.60 per kilogram, groupers and giant groupers at $20, salmon at $28, and tiger prawns at $15. Jiang Hai's prices were double, even quadruple in some cases. That kind of markup was hard to swallow for small-scale buyers.
The middle-tier distributors quickly bowed out—they simply couldn't afford it.
Only high-end restaurant buyers and top-tier fishery companies remained, weighing the costs against potential gains.
"We're determined to win the top prize at this fishery expo," Edward said confidently. "We're not too concerned about sales volume. Sam's Club and Haishang Supermarket are already long-term buyers. So, feel free to just look around."
His tone was relaxed, but his words left an impression.
Jiang Hai's prices might be high, but the quality was undeniable. Tainlong Manor hadn't gone mainstream yet, but once it did, it would be hard to compete with Walmart and Haishang for supply.
This made the more adventurous buyers in the crowd reconsider.
"Do you accept small orders?" someone from a well-known French restaurant group near Boston stepped forward and asked.
Edward recognized the brand instantly—one of the most respected Western restaurant chains in the Boston–New York corridor. Their pricing was premium, giving them flexibility in ingredient sourcing.
"If it's a small quantity, it's no problem—for this month," Edward replied after glancing back at Jiang Hai, who gave a subtle nod. "Consider this a trial phase."
Once Pra Walton finalized control over Tainlong Manor's distribution logistics, such small orders would no longer be accepted. But for now, they were still experimenting, so a small deal was acceptable.
"That's great. Honestly, your fish quality is outstanding, but cost is always a factor. We need to test the waters, so we'll start small. One month is more than enough." The man paused, then continued, "We'd like to order 300 kilograms of American redfish, 100 kilograms each of grouper and giant grouper, and 50 kilograms of salmon. No need for the others just yet. Can we expect delivery by tomorrow?"
That added up to $30,000—$12,000 for the redfish, $6,000 for the grouper, $6,500 for the giant grouper, and $5,000 for the salmon.
Jiang Hai didn't particularly care about the $30,000 itself, but this was a meaningful start. For a high-end restaurant, this was just their daily purchase quantity—so the potential was there.
After mentally calculating the numbers, Jiang Hai gave another nod. Edward smiled and shook the client's hand—a successful deal.
The other buyers didn't act. They wanted to see how this first customer would perform before making their move. Even if Jiang Hai had full confidence in his product, they didn't necessarily share it—yet.
Following that first deal, Jiang Hai and his team remained relaxed. Edward continued slicing fish occasionally to keep the crowd engaged. Even other nearby fish vendors came over to sample his products.
After tasting them, many were tempted. Like Jiang Hai's beef, his fish stood apart in both texture and flavor.
This led some to speculate: they were all using the same sea—so why was Jiang Hai's fish so much better?
Some fishing companies were already planning to research Jiang Hai's aquaculture methods. Others considered sneaking into his fishing grounds to try catching some themselves. But any fisherman from Winthrop would've laughed at that idea.
Jiang Hai's fishing grounds were heavily protected. The perimeter was lined with sonar detectors. If any large fishing vessel entered, an alert would sound immediately. Small speedboats would be easily intercepted—Jiang Hai's patrol crew wasn't to be underestimated.
During the day, helicopters patrolled overhead. They didn't even need to intervene—just recording ship numbers and reporting them to maritime authorities was enough.
Anyone caught would be lucky if they weren't fined or had their boats confiscated.
Despite Jiang Hai being approachable, he wasn't known for leniency—especially when it came to his territory.
Since the order was scheduled for the next day and the total volume was manageable, Edward sent Maren Rupert, Andrew Christian, and Enol Ceci back to prepare the shipment. Jiang Hai, Edward, and Tommy Charles stayed to continue managing the booth.
However, the foot traffic in the afternoon was noticeably lighter than in the morning. Though people still came to observe, fewer than a dozen lingered. Jiang Hai had been sitting there all day and was feeling fatigued.
He told Edward he was stepping out to get a drink—he remembered a good beverage stall nearby.
But just as he was leaving the exhibition area, a man stopped him.
Standing before him was a short, yellow-skinned man, no taller than 1.7 meters. Jiang Hai frowned in confusion.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Hello, Mr. Jiang. I'm Suzuki Murao from Suzuki Corporation, Japan. I was in the crowd earlier and tasted your fish. To be honest, the quality is top-notch." The man spoke in stiff but clear Mandarin. Still, his effort to speak Chinese didn't earn any goodwill from Jiang Hai.
"Just get to the point. I don't like beating around the bush," Jiang Hai cut him off bluntly.
"Apologies," Suzuki replied quickly. "We are a major seafood company based in Japan. While I believe your fish will sell well in the U.S., I was wondering—what are your plans for those tunas?"
He glanced at the two massive fish still sitting on ice behind Jiang Hai.
"You mean those two?" Jiang Hai turned back to look. He hadn't planned to sell them here—those fish were more like a visual advertisement. Bluefin tuna over four meters long was exceedingly rare, and these two were intimidating just to look at.
"Yes, those two magnificent creatures," Suzuki said, a hint of reverence in his voice.
"You want to buy them? Sure, I'll sell." Jiang Hai shrugged. Although such large tuna were rare elsewhere, they weren't uncommon in his waters. He had at least thirty to fifty of that size, with many more growing rapidly. He could afford to let a couple go.
"Thank you! May I ask the price?" Suzuki asked.
"Hmm… one million eight hundred thousand," Jiang Hai said after a quick mental calculation.
He had sold a two-meter-long tuna in Puerto Rico for nearly $50,000. These were over four meters long. So logically, $300,000 each was reasonable—$600,000 for both. But since the buyer was from a wealthy Japanese company, Jiang Hai tripled the price.
To his surprise, Suzuki's face lit up with joy.
"$1.8 million? No problem."
Jiang Hai immediately realized he'd undercharged.
"I mean $1.8 million per fish," he clarified, doubling the price.
Suzuki hesitated for a second but still nodded. "That's fine."
Jiang Hai stared. Was this tuna really worth that much?
"I'm talking about U.S. dollars, not yen," Jiang Hai emphasized.
"Of course," Suzuki replied with a smile. "We're in America, after all. Yen is practically worthless here."
It was clear he had no intention of walking away without those fish.
"…Alright then," Jiang Hai sighed. He knew he had underpriced them, but it was already out there. As someone who valued face, it would be embarrassing to take the offer back.
Still, $3.6 million for two fish wasn't bad at all.
To be continued…