Shao Shuyi did not sleep well that night.
Zheng Song’s parting look had held a weight he simply could not shake, leaving him vexed and unsettled.
Damn it. Anyone can threaten me. This life is really...
However, when he rose and went to the dining hall, his dissatisfaction vanished like smoke. Today’s breakfast was rather sumptuous.
The cook swallowed quietly to the side. Upon receiving a signal from Wang Sheng, she smiled. “The Accountant is at the age where he is growing. The Manager ordered that we prepare fine food every day, without repeating dishes. Today we made chicken-head powder jue noodles. I wonder if the Accountant likes them?”
Warehouse Officer Wu Youcai and Martial Master Zhang Neng were already seated, holding their bowls and slurping down noodles.
Manager Wang Sheng smiled. “Sit. Eat with us. If one bowl isn’t enough, there is more in the pot.”
He paused slightly, then added, “Don’t listen to her nonsense. At my age, wind-cold dampness is unavoidable. Eating chicken-head powder in the morning fits the principles of nourishing life; it is not solely for you.”
Zhang Neng set down his chopsticks and laughed. “Yesterday, I don’t know who it was who said that the new Accountant is still a young lad and ought to eat well to nourish himself. I’m just basking in your reflected glory. After practicing martial arts for so many years, my knees and waist are full of old ailments. The Manager is generous and righteous, nourishing both the Accountant and me. In the future, if there are any orders, I truly wouldn’t dare decline.”
Wang Sheng gave a hearty laugh. “Trifling matters. Why keep bringing them up?”He beckoned Shao Shuyi to sit. “Eat quickly, or it won’t taste as good once it’s cold. This noodle soup is simmered with fine leg of mutton, caoguo spice, and huihui beans—it’s very nourishing.”
Shao Shuyi performed a bow. “Many thanks, Manager.”
“The Accountant is acting like a stranger, isn’t he?” Wu Youcai laughed. “The Manager is an elder and has always been generous. You should call him ‘Teacher’ (Xiansheng).”
Shao Shuyi remained composed and smiled. “The Manager is a scholar; I should address him as ‘Master’ (Xianggong).”
Having said this, he sat down without standing on ceremony and lifted his bowl.
The two forms of address, Xiansheng and Xianggong, were quite different.
Xiansheng was originally used to address Daoist priests. Later, its scope gradually expanded to include elders of high virtue or distinguished learning, and in the end, it came to be used for one’s own teachers, carrying a sense of intimacy.
Xianggong was a very general honorific. From the prime minister in the court down to ordinary officials and even scholars, all could be addressed as Xianggong. In short, it lacked that flavor of intimacy.
Wang Sheng heard the distinction, smiled, and said nothing.
Shao Shuyi glanced sideways but did not see Zheng Song. The man must have left in a hurry before dawn; he clearly had no time to linger.
At that thought, a question sprang up in Shao Shuyi’s mind: if Zheng Song were here, would this lot still dare to eat such an extravagant breakfast?
These so-called chicken-head powder jue noodles were not easy to make. Shao Shuyi had heard people talk about them and knew a thing or two.
A whole leg of mutton is chopped up and boiled into a soup with five caoguo spices and half a sheng of huihui beans—which need to be mashed and peeled. The liquid is filtered to leave only the broth. Then, two jin of chicken-head powder, one jin of bean powder, and one jin of white flour are mixed with water into a dough. This is rolled into thin sheets, cut into wide strips, and pinched by hand into flakes to be boiled in the soup.
Finally, fresh mutton is cut into fine shreds, stir-fried, and mixed into the cooked noodle soup along with shredded green onions, vinegar, and salt to adjust the flavor.
In later ages, this might seem like an ordinary bowl of mutton noodles, but only Shao Shuyi knew the difficulty of obtaining such a meal in these times.
The management of the Zheng family’s greenware inn... heh, they live quite well.
Overseas trade was certainly profitable—one could even say wildly so—but the gains all belonged to the master, and the shop staff saw little of them. If Wang Sheng and the others were eating and drinking like this every day, there was definitely something fishy. Besides, from the moment he arrived, their words had been full of attempts to win him over; anyone could tell something was off.
Shao Shuyi ate his noodles without batting an eye, saying nothing.
After finishing one bowl, he looked up, calculating how to get another.
The cook walked over with a face full of smiles. “Accountant, just give the bowl to me. I will serve you immediately.”
Wang Sheng continued to eat his noodles slowly and methodically, while Wu Youcai quietly raised his head and signaled the cook with his eyes.
The cook understood and quickly went to the kitchen to serve a large bowl full to the brim. Looking at the crisp, tender mutton piled high on top, it was obviously specially enriched.
Shao Shuyi said a word of thanks and continued to bury his head in eating.
Only after finishing three large bowls did he quietly belch. Comfortable!
The fifteen-year-old’s body was in a phase of ravenous growth; it felt as though he could never eat his fill. Securing a meal ticket—ideally a long-term one—at the greenware shop was the best outcome he could hope for.
This is the power of knowledge. Of course, Shao Shuyi knew very well that this was only one of the reasons, and perhaps not even the main one. The other reason remained to be explored.
Of the other three people in the dining hall, Martial Master Zhang Neng had already left early. Wu Youcai had just finished eating and said he wanted to recount the newly arrived greenware, so he also rose and left.
Wang Sheng ate the slowest. Seeing Shao Shuyi stand up, he pushed his remaining half-bowl of mutton noodles aside without a shred of pity. “I hear the Accountant’s childhood nickname is Little Hu?”
Shao Shuyi nodded. “Precisely.”
Wang Sheng picked up a square kerchief and wiped his mouth. “This old man is advanced in years, so I will presume upon my age to call you by your nickname. The primary duty of our shop is to inventory the greenware sent by the main family into the warehouse and keep it safe. When foreign merchants and sea ships come here, we sell it all together. However—”
Shao Shuyi looked at Wang Sheng, quietly waiting for what followed.
Wang Sheng hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “However, greenware is fragile and hard to store; one must take great care. Furthermore, Sir Zheng does not come here often. He usually sends household servants in his stead, or has the porcelain kilns hire boats to deliver the goods to our door. They are not refined people; they handle things without knowing light from heavy. The greenware they send over is often badly damaged. You must be especially cautious when entering it into the accounts.”
Shao Shuyi did not comment, only bowing. “Master is experienced and prudent; this junior can only admire that.”
Wang Sheng’s eyelids twitched. He gave a dry laugh, turned, and left.
Shao Shuyi silently watched his retreating figure, lost in thought.
…
After returning to his residence, Shao Shuyi stood before a bamboo chest.
He had originally expected a modern bookcase, but found only two bamboo boxes containing thread-bound registers and account books.
Small shop affairs. Perfectly normal.
Taking an account book from the chest, Shao Shuyi sat cross-legged at the writing desk and opened it.
How convenient. This was exactly the content Shao Shuyi wanted to see. A rough look showed it was recorded as a running ledger, only broadly divided by category. For example:
3rd Year of Zhizheng (1343), 7th Day of the 1st Month: 18 strings of notes. Bought 6 jin of sacrificial meat for kitchen use.
3rd Year of Zhizheng (1343): 4 jars of wine, for use as rewards.
2nd Day of the 2nd Month: 1 jar of wine, for use by hired laborers.
17th Day of the 2nd Month: 15 strings of notes, hiring people to clean the well.
6th Day of the 3rd Month: 60 strings of notes to buy oil, for lighting lamps and stir-frying vegetables.
11th Day of the 3rd Month: 5 wen of notes, bought one needle.
...
Such things were recorded in great detail and earnestness; it could be called firsthand material. But as Shao Shuyi read, he frowned. Although he was not a professional accountant in later ages, he recognized that recording things this way was problematic.
First, “notes”—what notes? Zhiyuan notes or Zhongtong notes? Although he knew very well it was the latter, it was not stated here, leaving room for fraud.
Second, how many sheng in a jar of wine? He flipped through the earlier accounts and found they had bought some in the autumn of last year as well, also without marking the volume. As far as he knew, wine jars on the market varied in size, and naturally, the prices were different. Moreover, it didn't even state the type of wine.
Third, spending money to hire people to clean the well was no problem, but how many people were hired? How much labor was spent? There was no record, only an expenditure of 15 strings of notes.
Fourth, 60 strings of notes bought how much oil? Rapeseed oil, sesame oil, or something else?
There were too many problems. Almost every item had room for graft.
After putting back the ledger for daily miscellaneous expenses, Shao Shuyi picked up the second one, and his spirits lifted.
1st Day of the 4th Month: Disbursed 1 shi of round-grained rice, 5 dou of Xiangsha glutinous rice, 3 taels of good salt, half a jin of granulated salt, 2 jars of pickled vegetables, and 60 strings of notes. Provided for Manager Wang Sheng’s monthly stipend.
Reading it once, then a second time, Shao Shuyi finally knew Wang Sheng’s wages; it was basically three times his own.
Below that were others:
1st Day of the 4th Month: Disbursed 6 dou of round-grained rice, 2 dou of Xiangsha glutinous rice, 1 tael of good salt, half a jin of granulated salt, 2 jars of pickled vegetables, and 40 strings of notes. Provided for Martial Master Zhang Neng’s monthly stipend.
Mm, Zhang Neng’s income is about twice mine.
1st Day of the 4th Month: Disbursed 5 dou of round-grained rice, half a jin of granulated salt, 1 jar of pickled vegetables, and 30 strings of notes. Provided for Warehouse Officer Wu Youcai’s monthly stipend.
Old Wu’s wages are also higher than mine. This is a senior employee.
However, they shouldn’t be living off this fixed wage, right? Shao Shuyi speculated secretly.
There were more than a dozen people following, most of whom only had records of disbursed grain, salt, and pickled vegetables, but no money or notes. Furthermore, some months they received it, and some months they did not. Only a scarce three to five people received precious notes, mostly hovering around ten or fifteen strings.
Shao Shuyi analyzed it roughly and knew that those who could get money in addition to grain and vegetables were likely hired laborers. Those with only grain expenses were mostly the Zheng family’s slaves or bondservants.
In this way, the personnel structure of this greenware shop became very clear.
Gently putting the account book back, Shao Shuyi took out the third one.
This was the account book for payments to brokers, taxes, and even bribing government officials. In just four short months this year, it involved dozens of officials and clerks from Kunshan Prefecture and the Maritime Trade Superintendency, as well as the Inspection Office and naval officials. The accounts were—very exciting!
The fourth book in the bamboo chest detailed the transaction data with foreign merchants.
The fifth book was the inventory and breakage of greenware and other arts and crafts...
After roughly finishing reading, Shao Shuyi had only three feelings.
First, the problem with these account books was huge.
By chance in his previous life, he had once visited a bank-run museum that happened to feature an exhibit on old accounting offices. In short, the traditional system had been greatly refined by the Qing dynasty, reaching its peak with a three-part structure: the inner accounting room, the outer accounting room, and the money room.
The inner accounting room was mainly responsible for registering accounts, compiling monthly settlements, calculating interest on deposits and arrears, determining annual profits and losses, and auditing the year-end balance. The outer accounting room handled remittances and the registration of bills. The money room functioned as the cashier’s office.
Clear division of labor, separation of income and expenditure—by then it could be called relatively professional.
But at this time, it was different. The account registration was very crude, and accounting and cashier duties were not separated but tied to one person. The hidden dangers were great, and the room for improvement was huge.
Second, Shao Shuyi felt that doing business in these years was truly not easy.
One had to maintain firm connections with the higher-ups, grease the palms of all manner of ghosts and monsters, and finally ally with the brokerages and porcelain kilns to form a community of shared interests and make money together.
Within this chain, the Zheng family was in fact easily replaced. Put bluntly, they were merely “agents” for the Longquan Kiln of Chuzhou. They had no production capacity of their own and were nothing more than second-tier peddlers.
If their connections with the higher-ups ever soured, the greenware shop would very likely go into decline.
Third, Shao Shuyi increasingly felt that the Mongol Yuan rule was likely done for. Requisitions were everywhere, directly used for military needs, appearing to be for suppressing some rebellion.
The wind fills the tower before the mountain rain arrives.
The ramshackle house of the Yuan court was already tottering. Riots here today, uprisings there tomorrow, flaring up one after another. Perhaps at the beginning, they could still be suppressed, but the Yuan court’s strength was being rapidly consumed. In the end, it would inevitably reach that final turning point.
Shao Shuyi let out a long sigh, put away the account books, and prepared to go to the front hall to take a look.