Chapter 31: Artificial Truffle Cultivation

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Watching Ronan obediently eat the food she handed him, Elena felt a surge of uncontrollable joy welling up inside her. When she met Phil, he was also compliant, but Elena could tell that it was all an act. Beneath his macho exterior, Phil had no real intention of listening to her; he only acquiesced under the pressure of money. But Elena could sense that Ronan truly enjoyed and was happy eating the meal. At this moment, the knot that had long weighed on her heart finally unraveled.

Perhaps her brothers were right... How could Phil ever be worthy of someone as noble as herself? Only someone like Ronan, who even Lucas greatly admired, could be her future husband! Ugh, ugh, ugh! Stop thinking about that wretched Phil, Elena! You’ve only met him four times and never even held hands! From now on, you must be utterly devoted to your Ronan!

...

“Not eating anymore?” Elena paused, her fork and knife suspended in mid-air, noticing that Ronan’s plate remained largely untouched for a long while. Ronan nodded gratefully, “Thank you for the hospitality, but I really can’t eat any more.” Elena set down her utensils and saw that the other guests at the table were engrossed in their own conversations, paying no attention to them. She then said to Ronan, “Our family has lived in Provence for generations — politicians, merchants, artists, celebrities… we know quite a few people. If you encounter any troubles or problems as a newcomer, my two brothers and I can help you resolve them.”

Elena spoke her fib without a hint of guilt. Lucas had said that she couldn’t win Ronan over with money, so she would try something else, like family background. Ronan didn’t question Elena’s words and even found them quite reasonable. The son of the former Minister of Transportation was here… whatever you say, I believe it.

But he forgot the Provençal fondness for boasting and said seriously, “I actually do have a problem.” Elena elegantly lifted her glass of red wine, crossed her right leg over her left, smiling with her eyes: “Tell me about it.”

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“I want to apply for a stall in Menard Village,” Ronan said, looking at her hopefully.

...

Lucas swore off alcohol for the week. He had underestimated that mysterious spirit from the East… the last time he had been so disgracefully hugging the toilet and vomiting was ten years ago.

After cleaning the small amount of vomit that had splattered on his clothes and washing his face again, he steadied himself and returned to the dining room. From afar, he saw Elena sitting beside Ronan, and his heart tightened. Surely she wouldn’t cause some mischief?

As he drew closer, he saw the two chatting happily, Ronan smiling broadly, and he finally relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. Elena had countless flaws, as numerous as stars in the sky, but her one shining virtue was like the moon — when she liked a man, she threw her entire being into it.

“It seems letting Elena approach Ronan was a very wise decision…”

...

“What are you talking about?” Lucas stood behind them, his hands resting on the backs of two chairs. “Important matters,” Elena replied, standing up gracefully, flashing Lucas a playful wink, then patting the back of Ronan’s chair with a smile. “Alright, now I have to give you back to this gentleman.” Lucas didn’t understand the situation but felt it was inappropriate to ask further—what if they were flirting?

He sat down and resumed the earlier topic, discussing truffle business with Ronan. This time, Ronan’s attitude took a complete 180-degree turn. Previously, he had been cautious and evasive, but now he spoke as if one of their own, thoughtfully considering many details.

“Where will the storage be arranged? In Lourmarin, or in Nice and Marseille? We need to consider the costs.” Ronan propped his chin on his right hand, deep in thought.

He used “we.”

Lucas decided to increase Elena’s weekly allowance by 500 francs!

Suddenly, Ronan tapped the armrest of his chair: “We also have to consider the harvesting locations!”

Lucas was overjoyed—Ronan was even more useful than he had imagined. Not only did he have the skill to find truffles, but also the mindset of a manager… This man had to be secured!

“We will definitely succeed,” Lucas said happily, patting Ronan’s arm and laughing heartily.

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Ronan looked at Lucas, sincerely asking, “Can you really not say where your suppliers are? Even just a little hint?”

After talking with Elena, he fully acknowledged Lucas’s capabilities. Only two concerns left him hesitant. One was that there were quite a few participants in this business—besides him and Lucas, there was Olivier, responsible for finding upstream suppliers. More participants meant a higher chance of disagreements. Olivier seemed to play a more critical role in the entire chain, and Ronan worried about unfair distribution when money came into play. However, Ronan had his own system, one that could be upgraded, and its importance was no less than the organizer Lucas’s.

In this light, Lucas was actually the least “essential.” If Ronan didn’t have partners like Olivier or control over upscale restaurant resources, he might have wanted to cut out these two and make the money alone.

The second point that would determine whether he joined was the supplier issue Lucas refused to disclose. Without even a hint of detail, Ronan found it hard to convince himself to commit.

Under the influence of alcohol, Lucas’s mind was not as sharp as usual. Seeing Ronan’s attitude, he confidently believed his efforts were paying off. Facing someone who might very well become his brother-in-law, Lucas’s lips loosened.

“I can’t reveal the details, but I can tell you I have an earth-shattering insider scoop,” Lucas said mysteriously.

Ronan leaned in, putting his ear close to Lucas’s mouth. Such important matters must not be overheard!

“The Paris Research Institute has found a way to cultivate truffles artificially. They are secretly collaborating with plantations. The success rate is reportedly very high, and within three years, they’ll have initial yields. I plan to invest a few hundred acres to plant broadleaf and coniferous forests to cooperate with them in cultivating truffles. The expected annual output is 15,000 kilograms.”

Lucas’s face was wild with excitement: “We are the first successful growers entering ‘artificially cultivated truffles’ and can reap the first wave of profits. By the time others join, our annual output might reach 50,000 kilograms or even over 100,000… Ronan, do you know how much money that is?”

Ronan shook his head, not knowing the exact sum, but he saw Lucas’s optimism as naive.

“You’re only thinking about the scenario where artificial cultivation succeeds. Have you considered what happens if the mycelium cultivation fails or if it takes ten years to bear fruit?”