"Do you know Jiang Hai and his Tainlong Manor?" Roslin Carlett asked, glancing at the people around him.
"Oh? Not very well," the man replied after a brief pause, smiling casually.
"If you don't, let me explain why I've accepted defeat," Roslin said bitterly, his gaze fixed on Jiang Hai in the distance. "All his cattle meet the full quota for slaughter, and the proportion of premium beef is as high as 20%. That means he can produce about 500 kilograms of meat from a cow weighing over 700 kilograms—and 100 kilograms of that is premium-grade. How could I not accept reality with numbers like that?"
"Twenty percent? That's terrifying," the man chuckled. "But you're the regional giants. Haven't you thought about mastering that 20% technology yourselves?"
Roslin gave a hollow laugh. Of course they had thought about it. In business, it's always survival of the fittest—big fish eat the small. After losing to Jiang Hai, they had tried everything to uncover his secret.
They had approached Jiang Hai's cowboys, both openly and covertly, hoping someone would leak the method behind his superior cattle. But Jiang Hai treated his workers well—paid them handsomely and fostered loyalty. No one betrayed him.
Even putting aside personal loyalty, the financial incentive alone made betrayal unrealistic. Though their base salary hovered around $20,000 to $30,000, annual bonuses exceeded a million dollars. That meant a total yearly income of nearly $2 million. Over ten years, that was $20 million. Twenty years—$40 million. Who would risk that?
In the end, Carlett Company was firmly rejected. And once Jiang Hai partnered with the Walmart Group, they didn't dare make another move. Now, Jiang Hai had even more influence and connections. The Carlett Company didn't stand a chance.
Fortunately, Jiang Hai only focused on the high-end beef market. He had no interest in mid- or low-tier markets. Otherwise, they would have been completely wiped out.
"I don't know what you're planning, but I'll pretend you didn't suggest anything just now," Roslin said seriously, looking the man in the eye. "We can't take on Jiang Hai. We're not suicidal. His beef? We admit defeat. It's that simple."
He hadn't lost his edge—he could still see through the man's intentions. If there had been a real benefit in going against Jiang Hai, Roslin might have considered it. But he knew better than to make a move when there was nothing to gain.
"Oh, what a pity," the man said with a shrug and a smile, then returned to his own booth. He, too, was an exhibitor at the livestock show.
His ranch was based in Texas, but unlike most, he raised Wagyu beef. His entry was a Matsusaka cow, considered one of the finest in terms of appearance and size. Although it was a castrated bull, it had drawn significant attention from spectators.
This alone indicated his close ties with Japan.
"How did it go?" a yellow-skinned man asked as the rancher returned, speaking in slightly broken English.
"Matsui-kun, the situation doesn't look promising. Very few are willing to go up against that man," the rancher replied, glancing in Jiang Hai's direction.
It wasn't surprising. Luke Sean had made it clear the day before that he supported Jiang Hai. Texas ranchers wouldn't oppose someone backed by him. As for the ranchers in Montana—they weren't interested. The technology, while impressive, was simply out of reach.
Even Carlett, the company best positioned to acquire Jiang Hai's secrets, had backed off.
"Find a way," Matsui said with a cold smile. "China is very interested in his technology. A method that achieves 20% premium beef yield without selective breeding—China must obtain it. And that grass cultivation technique? Equally valuable. If you succeed, you can have as many Matsusaka cattle as you want."
"I'll look into it," the rancher replied, smiling—but with other thoughts brewing.
If he really did uncover Jiang Hai's secrets, why would he give them to the Japanese?
He could become the next Jiang Hai—no, an even better version. He would become the king of the beef world.
Jiang Hai, for all his strength, lacked ambition. He was too easily satisfied.
Meanwhile, unaware that he had become the target of international interest, Jiang Hai was simply tending to his cows.
And just like that, the fourth day of the livestock show came to a close. After the head-to-head comparisons, Jiang Hai's cattle maintained their strong rankings.
The neighboring booths were seething in frustration. It was one thing to lose, but being next to Jiang Hai made the comparison unbearable.
That night, a new round of rankings was released. Of the original 64, only 32 remained. On the fifth day, they'd be cut to 16. Then 8 on the sixth day. On the final day, the top 8 would compete for the crown.
The Texas Livestock Exhibition awarded one gold medal, two silvers, four bronzes, and one appearance award. The appearance award was a bit of a consolation prize—likely reserved for a big-name company that didn't win elsewhere.
Eight cattle would win awards, which meant reaching the final eight practically guaranteed a prize.
After the fourth day, Jiang Hai's three entries all moved up in rank. Tainlong No. 2 ranked fifth, Tainlong No. 1 was eighth, and Tainlong No. 3 was eleventh.
Truth be told, Angus cattle suffered in terms of size. Breeds like Charolais and Limousin could reach 1.5 tons. Simmental and Hereford cattle exceeded a ton. Even Wagyu were around 1 ton. In comparison, the Angus maxed out around 750 kilograms—making them look like calves.
That's part of why Jiang Hai's rankings weren't even higher. If he could, he'd try raising larger breeds. But to do that, he'd have to sell off his existing Angus herd—something he wasn't willing to do.
Back when Robbins-Garcia first suggested Angus, Jiang Hai hadn't known any better. If he'd known the potential of his spiritual blood, maybe he would've started with Limousin.
A bull could grow to 1.5 tons. With a 65% yield rate, that's 975 kilograms of meat. If 20% was premium beef, that's 195 kilograms. At $700 per kilogram, that's over $136,000 per head!
Of course, that's hindsight. Even if he'd wanted Limousin back then, Robbins-Garcia would've opposed it. The meat quality wasn't as good. Though they grow fast and heavy, they're lean and muscular—lacking the marbled fat that defines premium beef.
Besides, Jiang Hai genuinely liked Angus cattle. They were calm, docile, and easy to manage.
Raising larger breeds would require far more cowboys—at least five times as many. And with that many people around, secrecy would be impossible.
After securing a spot in the top 32 on the fifth day, Tainlong Manor gained even more attention. Some people started asking about Jiang Hai's beef. Upon learning it was supplied exclusively to Walmart and Haishang Supermarket, many quickly made the connection—it must be the premium beef sold there.
Business cards were exchanged, phone numbers shared. On the fifth day, Jiang Hai's booth was even more crowded than before.
By the end of the day, the rankings were announced again. Tainlong No. 2 had risen to third place, becoming a seeded contender. Tainlong No. 1 jumped to fifth, and Tainlong No. 3 reached seventh.
All three cows entered the top 16.
The rankings held steady on the sixth day. Before the final butchering, no matter how good Angus cattle were, they couldn't displace the top two.
In the end, all three of Jiang Hai's cattle made it to the final eight.
Their final rankings: third, fifth, and seventh.
Joining them were five more cattle—three from Texas, two from Montana. No other regions made the cut.
Since this was a national show, international competitors weren't allowed. No Australia. No Japan. No other major beef producers. These eight were the best of the United States.