"It seems Luke Sean really is as Pra Walton described—he holds significant sway around here."
Seeing the entire scene quiet down as Luke Sean stepped forward, Jiang Hai murmured to himself.
Then, he took a step back, yielding the stage to Luke Sean. Now, this was his domain to control.
"Mr. Sean," Roland Shalid finally greeted, though hesitation lingered in his voice.
To many cowboys, SSR was a giant—an untouchable force. But to them, Luke Sean was an even greater behemoth, someone they couldn't afford to defy.
When Roland saw Luke appear, he froze. He couldn't understand how Jiang Hai was connected to him. Wasn't this the embodiment of Texas pride? Shouldn't he be siding with them?
"Mr. Jiang Hai, I apologize for the disruption," Luke Sean said with a nod, acknowledging the now-silent crowd.
"No problem. If you know these people, Mr. Sean, I'll leave the situation to you." Jiang Hai smiled, waved his hand, and Bell dismissed the security guards.
Though the cowboys were no longer being stopped, they dared not move the manure carts forward. Everyone here had heard of Luke Sean—and none wanted to challenge him.
"You're a disgrace to Texas. Get out of here!" Luke roared at the dumbfounded cowboys.
They exchanged glances, then looked at Roland. When he said nothing, they dispersed in shame. After all, what mattered more—money or one's future?
In Texas, offending Luke Sean meant cutting off your livelihood. Whatever Roland had paid them wasn't worth it. In their eyes, Jiang Hai had just been some rich outsider. They never imagined he had ties to a man like Luke Sean. It was baffling—but no one dared question it.
In the blink of an eye, only Luke Sean, his son Anthony, and Roland Shalid remained on the street.
Luke and Anthony slowly approached Roland.
"Mr. Sean…" Roland stammered, swallowing hard.
"You don't need to say anything," Luke interrupted, waving his hand. "I trust only what I see. Now, go apologize to Mr. Jiang Hai—immediately. Or SSR will change hands."
"What?" Roland paled. "Mr. Sean, please, you can't—"
"Now. Immediately. Do I need to repeat myself?" Luke's tone left no room for argument.
He had spoken to Jiang Hai with politeness—because Jiang Hai was valuable. Supplying forage for 100,000 cattle represented roughly $5 billion in market value. After taxes and processing, at least $3 billion remained. How much was SSR worth?
And that was just the beginning—100,000 today, maybe 200,000 or even a million in the future. Luke Sean would never jeopardize that potential. Offending Jiang Hai was financial suicide.
Roland had no idea what really caused the conflict. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Jiang Hai must forgive him.
"I… I…" Roland stuttered, his eyes welling up with tears. He wasn't soft-hearted, but he felt completely wronged.
Why had he been humiliated yesterday, and now had to apologize too? There was no justice in the world.
But as Luke Sean loomed before him, furious and unrelenting, Roland couldn't bring himself to speak. In the end, he broke down, screamed, and fled.
"Father, should I send someone from SSR to apologize?" Anthony Sean asked with a frown as he watched Roland leave.
Luke's eyes narrowed. Looking back at Jiang Hai's exhibition hall and realizing Jiang Hai was no longer there, he frowned. Maybe his efforts hadn't been enough.
"I'll leave it to you," he said simply, patting Anthony's shoulder before turning back to Jiang Hai's booth.
Inside, Jiang Hai was casually scrolling through his phone. Luke approached with a friendly smile.
"Everything outside has been handled. I'll ensure Mr. Jiang Hai receives a proper apology. It's my failure as a host that your visit here has included such unpleasantness. If you have time, I'd be happy to show you around. What do you say?"
It wasn't just Jiang Hai he liked—it was his forage. And more importantly, the formula behind it.
Everyone around Jiang Hai wanted to know his secrets. But unless he revealed them himself, there was nothing they could do. Anger him, and no one would gain anything.
"Go sightseeing? I'll pass for now. I want to focus on the competition," Jiang Hai replied calmly. He wasn't about to be lured into some trap.
His mind was on the cattle exhibition. His goal? First place.
"That's a pity," Luke said with a gracious smile. "But I must say, your cattle are truly impressive. I hope you do well in the competition."
"Then I'll take that as a blessing." Jiang Hai smiled politely. After exchanging a few more words, Luke left.
Luke returned home. Anthony, however, went directly to SSR's headquarters.
As promised, things weren't over yet.
When the SSR board learned of Anthony's visit, Babbitt Shalid—the company's largest shareholder and Roland's father—was livid. He wanted to throttle his son.
After escorting Anthony out respectfully, Babbitt called Roland and berated him mercilessly, ignoring his son's protests and tears.
Then he personally went to Jiang Hai's exhibition hall. There, he apologized on behalf of SSR and promised full cooperation in any future ventures.
He even reimbursed the $200,000 Jiang Hai had spent on security.
Jiang Hai couldn't say much to that. He wasn't a saint—but he wasn't cruel either.
Seeing this man in his fifties grovel and offer both money and promises, Jiang Hai couldn't help but forgive him. After all, in the end, he was the one who came out ahead.
Recalling Roland's miserable expression yesterday, Jiang Hai forgave them generously. After all, as the protagonist, he was expected to have a sense of measure and class—even if it felt a little fake.
By the end of the third day, the anonymous judges embedded in the crowd had submitted their evaluations. The results were announced on the organizer's website: the top 64 cattle were listed.
All three of Jiang Hai's entries—Tamron No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3—made the list, ranked 17th, 25th, and 31st, respectively.
Not bad. But not spectacular either.
That was mainly because his cows were Angus—a common breed in the U.S. And being medium-sized, they lacked the visual appeal of the larger and flashier Wagyu cattle.
The events on the first day may have influenced the judges too.
Still, Jiang Hai's entries had made it to the next round.
On the morning of day four, the venue changed to the main exhibition hall, where the top 64 cattle were placed side by side for direct comparison.
It was a brutal format. In the earlier rounds, people judged based on memory and overall impressions. But now, with every cow on display together, the differences became obvious.
Jiang Hai's cows stood out.
They were calm, unflinching, and composed. Other cattle grew nervous near them, as if sensing their dominance.
Their silky coats, clear eyes, and graceful demeanor drew attention instantly.
Within moments, they became the stars of the exhibition.
People swarmed to see them: judges, merchants, corporate buyers. Everyone was fascinated. These weren't just show cattle—they were breeding material.
Some attendees watched enviously—including the people from Carlett Company.
They had a long-standing rivalry with Jiang Hai and had just barely scraped into the top 64, landing at rank 60.
In truth, there was a major gap between ranching standards in the eastern and western U.S. The fact that Carlett represented several northeastern states and still made it this far was an achievement.
But compared to Jiang Hai's cattle, they had no hope.
"That Fat Dragon Manor over there… it's in Winthrop, right? Your turf?" a voice asked.
Roslin Carlett sat on a chair, staring at the massive crowd gathered in front of Jiang Hai's cattle. His own booth, by contrast, was deserted.
"Oh, it's you." He looked up and shrugged. "What can we do? They have the better breeding method. We can't match that."
Ever since losing to Jiang Hai the last time, they had given up—at least in terms of competing in cattle breeding.
Luckily, Jiang Hai had no interest in cornering the middle and low-tier steak markets. Carlett still made a decent profit despite losing ground at the top.
But the gap between them continued to widen.
Last year, after witnessing the frenzy around Jiang Hai's cattle at the New York show, they had still hoped to catch up. This year? They had given up entirely.
"That's not the Roslin Carlett I remember—giving up so easily," the voice teased as the man pulled up a chair next to him, both gazing at Jiang Hai's cattle.
Roslin laughed at himself. Give up? If it were that easy, he wouldn't feel so defeated. But the truth was undeniable—Jiang Hai's strength was beyond their imagination.