CHAPTER 12
Hedy's expansion of assets was happening so quickly that even she found it hard to believe.
But this was very scientific—just like how ancient humans might spend an entire afternoon using flint to make fire, while modern people can do it with just a click of a lighter.
The first industry she invested in was a textile workshop, and she carefully selected a few loyal and honest partners.
This industry had been developing for over two hundred years and already had a fairly complete production line—
From the cleaning, washing, and stretching of wool to the later processes of finishing and dyeing, a total of fifteen steps were required to complete the manufacturing of the product.
Not only that, but the artisans also had clear divisions of labor. According to guild rules, each person was only allowed to do their designated task and could not arbitrarily sell the items from the workshop.
With just over a hundred gold coins, Hedy opened a textile workshop and, under Leonardo's guidance, improved the hydropowered washing process, which significantly boosted efficiency.
—Strictly speaking, she had acquired a new identity: that of a cloth merchant.
The affordable and high-quality cloths sold at the market almost immediately flew off the shelves. She even made a colorful poster to advertise the durability and warmth of her products, and indeed, people were quite taken with it.
The workshop now sat here like a hen continuously laying eggs.
If she stayed in Florence for a long time, it seemed she could be involved in an endless cycle of success, eventually becoming one of the wealthy merchants.
She also took the opportunity to socialize with the owners of nearby workshops, sometimes dining and chatting at their homes.
They exchanged a lot of information—merchants wanted to hear from her about the lord’s interest in tax changes, while she could learn about other areas of the world.
She heard that the lord of Milan was gleefully pursuing a fiery-tempered beauty, as if he were a donkey dangling a carrot before him, sending gifts over and over again.
She also heard that the textile workers in England could no longer bear the high taxes and had fled in droves. Oxford once had over three hundred looms, but now only thirty or forty remained.
Amidst all this complex information, she keenly noticed a knowledge blind spot she had never paid attention to before—
The relationship between mercenaries and weaponry.
In modern times, with the state machinery being perfected and mature, weapons are not something ordinary people can casually possess or produce.
But in this era, clearly, all of this was hampered by insufficient production capabilities.
In the early days of history, weapons and rations were said to be made and supplied by villagers from different towns, and if they failed to meet the requirements, they faced a fine of up to one pound of gold.
As the rule of lords developed, blacksmithing became more in demand, and weapon production successfully increased, giving rise to the weapons manufacturing industry.
Florence now had twenty flags in the city and seventy-six flags in the countryside.
Whenever an external enemy threatened, the citizens were expected to promptly equip themselves and come to aid.
However, the true standing army wasn’t made up of the citizens, but rather a group of mercenaries called "contracted soldiers."
"They must be very expensive, right?" Hedy asked curiously while having dinner with another wealthy merchant. "With the costs of training and placement, it must add up to more than just a small expense."
The plump, jolly merchant waved his hand dismissively, picking up a rabbit bone and using it to gesture.
A squad at least consisted of three people: a knight, a sergeant, and a page.
"As for the price…" he stroked his beard uncertainly, "twenty florins per month?"
Hedy was stunned, thinking she had misheard the number.
Three people for only twenty gold coins?!
When she first arrived, her monthly salary at Leonardo's workshop was sixty soldi, which was roughly half a gold coin. At that time, she was living very carefully, uncertain if her basic needs would even be met.
But later, when she moved to the Doge's Palace, her salary immediately jumped to five or six gold coins per month, which was twelve times higher.
And with her various accomplishments, the lord would occasionally reward her with generous gold coins.
Her assets had now reached nearly four hundred coins.
By this amount, one painting by Botticelli could be exchanged for more than a hundred gold coins. To support just one artist was equivalent to supporting how many mercenaries…
"Originally, they were quite expensive, but once the Black Death passed, those farm women just multiplied like rats, and people became less valuable," the merchant said, taking a large sip of wine and swirling the glass. "Would you like some beer too? The taste is really exquisite!"
After the dinner ended, Hedy spent the entire ride back to the castle in the carriage, constantly calculating exchange rates and prices.
Copper coins, silver coins, and other such currencies were indeed cumbersome to work with, but if she could adjust the way mercenaries were hired and sign more comprehensive contracts with them, maybe...
Before the carriage even came to a complete stop, Dechio appeared nearby, raising his hand high to signal the coachman to stop. "My lady—"
Please don't tell me we're going to war again.
Hedy took a deep breath and mentally prepared for the worst. "What is it this time?"
"The youngest son of the Rucellai family—the lord’s nephew—he's running a high fever and seems to have been possessed by some kind of demon!
" Dechio quickly climbed onto the carriage's step, gesturing for the coachman to turn the carriage around and head in another direction, speaking rapidly as he explained, "This just happened not long ago, and the lord has already left to take action. "
"Demon?" Hedy frowned. "Why would you say that?"
"Not only does he have a fever, but he's also developed a rash," Dechio said, as if it took him a lot of courage to continue, "—and he has a demonic-like tongue!"
What?
The carriage soon stopped in front of the Rucellai palace. Hedy quickly grabbed her small bag, lifted her skirt, and hurried through the courtyard and long corridors. With the help of the servants, she made her way to the third-floor bedroom.
Many people had already gathered there. The child's mother, Nannina, Lorenzo's sister, was kneeling by the bed, crying uncontrollably. The maids were frantically trying to help, and a smelling salts bottle had even been knocked to the floor.
As soon as Hedy appeared, the people instinctively parted to make way for her to approach the child.
Out of caution, she donned a mask and gloves, signaling one of the maids to show her the condition of the child.
Young Giovanni’s breathing was weak, and he looked quite distressed and pitiful—his high fever was evident, his body covered in dense rashes, and his face around his mouth and nose was unnervingly pale.
Even though some servants were holding down his limbs, he was still struggling, as though truly possessed by a demon.
"Please, you must save this child!" Mr. Rucellai was beside himself, even looking to Lorenzo as if pleading for him to say something. "He—none of us dare let the priest come and check to see if he's really possessed."
Before he could finish his sentence, another elderly woman skillfully pried the child’s mouth open, showing Hedy the strange tongue.
There was no white coating on it; the surface of the tongue was smooth and swollen, exhibiting an eerie, flesh-like red color.
This was definitely not a characteristic of a normal person.
Hedy quickly made her judgment.
This was scarlet fever.
Before she left that world, the son of the director of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company was already over sixty years old, and the image of a child seemed quite distant.
But she vividly remembered caring for that child late at night, in the dim light of the studio, as he suffered from a similar fever.
"This is not possession," she said, lifting an oil lamp to examine the child’s skin and lowering her voice. "This is an infectious disease."
The room was likely filled with pathogens, and it would be best to move the child to a better-ventilated and disinfected place.
"It’s not—it's not the devil," Nannina said, unsure whether to laugh or cry. "So, what should we—"
"Step back. If you've touched him, be sure to wash your hands," Hedy instructed, pulling out her small, self-sewn bag and taking out a syringe and some backup medicine.
Thankfully, it was a child… so the dosage didn’t need to be large.
With the current production rate at the penicillin workshop, it would take about two months to produce a full syringe. The strains and workshop scale needed improvements.
"I can’t guarantee that I can save him…"
"It doesn’t matter," Nannina said urgently, clutching Hedy’s wrist, her skin turning white from the force. "If he’s sent to the church, they’ll burn him alive as a demon!"
Lorenzo stepped forward, pulling his sister away and trying to comfort her. "We’ll try now. Your panic will only frighten the child."
Nannina let out a mournful cry, almost fainting again.
"First, we need to do a skin test," Hedy paused for a moment, then turned to the maid. "Get salt and clean water."
Fortunately, since the two families were in-laws, the riverside purification house had been supplying them with clean water consistently, and the sealing effect of the glass bottles was quite good.
Under the gaze of everyone, she mixed the saline solution and then prepared a small amount of penicillin solution in a small bowl, taking out the syringe she always carried with her.
As soon as Nannina saw the familiar object, she hurried to offer help. "Are you going to give the child an enema? I’ll help take off his pants!"