Wu Youcai watched Wang Huadu's departing figure until it disappeared from sight. After a moment of thought, he made his way to the room of Shopkeeper Wang Sheng.
"What are you here for?" Wang Sheng asked, glancing up briefly before returning to the letter he was writing.
Zhang Neng was also in the inner room, nursing a cup of tea by himself.
Not daring to step too close lest he catch sight of something he was not meant to see, Wu Youcai remained at a distance and reported in a hushed voice, "The Fangfeng Tongsheng Powder was sent back."
Wang Sheng's brow furrowed, but his brush did not pause.
Zhang Neng, however, slammed a hand onto the table and growled, "We extended this much good will, and he still plays blind? Shopkeeper, why waste your breath on him? It seems courtesy before force doesn't work. We need to get rough."
Wu Youcai glanced at Zhang Neng with conflicted exasperation. Did this fool know how to do anything other than fight and kill?
The former accountant, Zhao Fuzi, had drowned in the opening days of the first month, which had already aroused suspicion. To have two accountants die in succession—how would that look? Granted, Zhao Fuzi had drunkenly drowned in a ditch, and the yamen's coroner had examined the body and issued an official report confirming there were no external wounds or poison and that he had indeed drowned. But even so, no one was a complete fool.
Did the ancestral estate along Salt and Iron Creek truly harbor no doubts? It was only that the old master recalled the shopkeeper's many years of devoted service and had chosen to hold his tongue. Yet even if the old master said nothing, was San She someone easy to cross? He was gradually taking charge of the household now, and he held little affection for these old hands from Quzhou. He was simply waiting to seize upon a handle against them.
Zhang Neng—capable of nothing!
Wang Sheng soon finished his letter. Once the ink dried, he folded the paper with deliberate care, slipped it into an envelope, sealed it with paste by his own hand, and affixed his stamp.
"Youcai, does the celadon in the warehouse match the ledgers?" Wang Sheng asked abruptly.
Wu Youcai shot Zhang Neng a reproachful glare.
Looking slightly embarrassed, Zhang Neng said, "Why look at me? Of course it doesn't match, but the discrepancy isn't all that large. I say, Wu Youcai, couldn't you grow a backbone and demand the ledgers back? Just because Young Master Zheng told you to hand them over to the new accountant, you actually gave them away? You should alter them while you're still the one keeping the books."
Wu Youcai opened his mouth, completely at a loss for words.
Ignoring Zhang Neng, Wang Sheng looked at Wu Youcai and asked, "Roughly how much is missing?"
"About seven or eight fen," Wu Youcai mumbled.
"Seven or eight fen per month, or per year?"
"In total," Wu Youcai answered.
The term "seven or eight fen" was trade jargon for seven or eight percent. The Zheng family had strict requirements for the celadon shop's books: the monthly margin of error was not to exceed "three fen." Even that allowance was meant for paper currency and coins; celadon was never supposed to have discrepancies anywhere near that scale, let alone seven or eight percent. For seven or eight hundred pieces to vanish out of tens of thousands was truly indefensible.
"You two have been far too reckless," Wang Sheng said, his tone displeased.
Wu Youcai and Zhang Neng exchanged a look, both feeling somewhat aggrieved.
As the shopkeeper, he naturally looked down on skimming vegetable money, wages, or "breakage" from the celadon. He had other avenues for pocketing silver, but they did not. Besides, had a share of that "breakage" not been delivered into his hands as well? What was he posturing for?
"Shopkeeper, things have come to this, and there's no other way out. Why don't we wait until Young Master Zheng leaves—" Zhang Neng wiped his face, speaking through clenched teeth.
"Silence!" Wang Sheng barked.
Zhang Neng looked stunned at first, then turned his face away in defiance, muttering under his breath things like, "To block a man's road to wealth is no different from murdering his parents."
Wu Youcai shifted his gaze awkwardly between the two, not knowing what to say.
Wang Sheng rose and slowly paced the room.
After a long while, he let out a sigh and halted in front of Wu Youcai.
Wu Youcai looked up at him, hesitating to speak.
"Try wooing him again," Wang Sheng said, looking Wu Youcai straight in the eye. "He's only fifteen years old. I refuse to believe he has nothing he craves. Fine food? Clothes? Money? Or women? Try every single one. As for the handover, stall it for now. We're busy lately anyway, and another shipment of celadon will arrive before long. You'll have plenty of excuses."
"Understood." Wu Youcai secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
"And if wooing him fails, what then?" Zhang Neng turned back to ask.
"You keep yourself quiet," Wang Sheng snapped, his expression still dark. "Just keep quiet. Even if we have to do something, now is not the time. For a new accountant to meet with an accident the moment he arrives—how would that look?"
Zhang Neng's expression grew even uglier, but he said nothing more.
***
In the afternoon, Shao Shuyi returned to the front counter to shadow Wu Youcai, learning how to keep the books and familiarizing himself with the daily operations.
In truth, there were hardly any accounts to settle.
At this time of year, maritime merchants arrived only in small numbers, and customers buying celadon in bulk were exceedingly rare. It was the off-season for sales; aside from a few local retail customers making small purchases, business was practically nonexistent.
Truth be told, the shop focused primarily on large-scale maritime trade and had little interest in local retail. The clerks treated casual walk-in customers with utter indifference, not even bothering to greet them, preferring to squat by the base of the wall near the entrance and chat.
In fact, when an elderly man entered the shop to buy a single porcelain plate, most of the idlers lounging against the wall paid him no mind. Only the clerk nicknamed Shitou—whose formal name was Cao Tong—stood up and helped the customer pick out a piece.
"Five qian," Wu Youcai said, barely lifting his eyelids.
The old man drew out a Zhongtong chao note and set it on the counter.
Wu Youcai picked it up, examined it, and after a brief hesitation accepted it. The note showed some wear, but nothing too severe.
The old man soon took his leave.
Wu Youcai brushed eight characters into the ledger—"White porcelain phoenix-and-flower plate, one, five qian"—placed the baochao into the money box, and said to Shao Shuyi, "Xiaohu, there's no need to fuss over these small retail trades, but what must be recorded still needs to be done properly."
"Please guide me, Elder Wu," Shao Shuyi replied with modest deference.
Wu Youcai was rather flattered by the address "Elder Wu," and a faint smile touched his face. "It's actually quite simple," he said. "Every day, record the name of the ware sold, the quantity, and the price.
"As for the shop's daily expenditures—purchasing stationery, labor wages, meals for the servants and hired hands, cart and horse transport, building repairs, gifts and gratuities—record each and every one as they occur.
"If copper coins, gold, or silver are involved, make a separate note.
"If anyone wishes to buy on credit, you must consult the shopkeeper first and record it in the ledger.
"Every day after the evening meal, balance the ledgers and the money box together with the shopkeeper to ensure the books match the cash. Do all that, and you'll be a fine accountant."
Shao Shuyi nodded repeatedly as he listened, though in his heart he scoffed at how crude and simplistic it was. Moreover, he remembered that the previous entries in the ledgers were nowhere near as detailed as this. The clerks had either grown lazy or deliberately kept the records vague.
"What is the procedure if someone needs to withdraw money or paper currency?" Shao Shuyi asked suddenly.
"Under five ding, the shopkeeper may decide on his own authority, provided an authorization slip is attached and stamped. Er..." Wu Youcai cut himself off mid-sentence, looking somewhat flustered.
Shao Shuyi smiled faintly to himself.
When he had flipped through the ledgers earlier, it seemed authorization slips with the shopkeeper's seal were attached only when paying out wages. At other times, there were none—a blatant violation of the rules.
The so-called "authorization slip" meant pasting a small slip of paper in the margin next to the withdrawal entry, which both the shopkeeper and the accountant would sign and stamp to signify approval.
This was standard financial discipline, but management in this celadon shop was clearly lax and sloppy, with no strict enforcement.
Come to think of it, Shopkeeper Wang Sheng possessed quite a bit of authority, being able to disburse up to five ding of funds without reporting to the master.
"On the first day of every month, you are to go to the storehouse yourself to collect the measuring vessels—chiefly the dou, sheng, and ge—which are used to measure grain when paying out wages," Wu Youcai said, swiftly changing the subject. "This matter is of great importance and must not be neglected."
"Understood," Shao Shuyi replied.
"And then there is the monthly inventory check of the celadon in stock." Wu Youcai glanced at Shao Shuyi, speaking in vague terms. "That is a longer story. As luck would have it, a new shipment of several thousand pieces has just arrived and needs to be registered into the warehouse. You can follow me over the next few days to assist with the tally."
"Yes," Shao Shuyi answered solemnly.
Wu Youcai parted his lips as if wanting to say something more, but ultimately kept his mouth shut.
Shao Shuyi took in every detail of his demeanor without uttering a word.
After that, neither spoke much, remaining in quiet contemplation until the next customer walked in.
The entire afternoon slipped by quickly. Toward the end of the Shen hour, the clerks began tidying up and sweeping the floor in preparation for closing shop.
Shao Shuyi packed his things into his wooden toolbox, preparing to head out.
"Xiaohu—" Wu Youcai caught him by the arm, smiling warmly. "I see you staying all alone in the shop; it must be dreadfully dull. Since we have nothing to do today, why don't we go out for some fun?"
Shao Shuyi looked at him in mild surprise.
For a fleeting moment, he almost felt as if he had been transported back to the modern world. Was this an invitation to go out for dinner, karaoke, and a massage?
"Don't worry," Wu Youcai said with a chuckle, flipping open a ledger and pointing to a certain entry. "The shopkeeper has attached an authorization slip and stamped it. We can draw one ding of Zhongtong chao. We'll invite Zhang Neng and Squire Sun along too. They're all our own people, so there's no need to feel shy."
Thoughts raced through Shao Shuyi's mind. Many considerations warred within him, but in the end, they all resolved into Zheng Song's hawk-like gaze.
With a silent sigh, he rose, bowed politely to Wu Youcai, and declined with gentle courtesy, "I'm a little tired today and would like to rest early. Perhaps next time."
With that, he picked up his box and walked away.
Wu Youcai stared after his retreating figure, his expression shifting between dark and uncertain.
Chapter 16