A Ledger Weaves an Open Scheme

Though people had said Zi Bofeng possessed the talent of a top scholar ever since he was young, those had ultimately just been flattering words.

The Zi family had once been a scholarly household as well. Though their fortunes had later declined, they had never given up on educating their descendants. No matter how difficult things became, they would send their children to Private School, hoping that one of them could someday restore glory to the family name.

But after that great flood, the villagers of Zi Village had been almost entirely killed or injured. No one knew how many had escaped with their lives, and the burden of bringing honor to their ancestors had fallen upon the shoulders of father and son.

The former Zi Bofeng, however, had known nothing of worldly ways and had not been liked by the villagers. They were outsiders besides, and their lives had been difficult in every way. If not for the Clan Elder's reasonableness and Zi Jian's kindness toward others, they would likely have been driven out long ago.

What made Zi Jian even happier was that his son had seemed like a completely different person ever since his last coma. He no longer spoke as inflexibly as before. Yet the boy was mature one moment and frivolous the next, making him difficult to read.

And now, no one knew what had caught his attention. He had pushed open the window and stared outside, then suddenly started laughing, as though possessed.

Zi Jian did not bother with him. He carried several broken tables and chairs outside, while Little Stone came over as well. Waving a long pole with strips of cloth tied to it, he stretched out his arms, stood on tiptoe, tucked in his neck, narrowed his pitch-black eyes, and swept the dust and cobwebs from the beams.

"Dad, Little Stone, this house will be mine from now on." Zi Bofeng suddenly turned back and looked at his father.

His face was full of excitement as he gestured around the room. "Put a table here, chairs there, several shelves over here. And on this side, I'll grow a potted flower. Hmm, I'll also write a few banners and hang them over here. Right, right, and there should be a plaque too. What should it say...?"

Excitedly, he paced back and forth through the house. It was only an ordinary mud-brick home, utterly incomparable to the towering buildings of his previous life, but this was truly where he would begin in this world.

The first step, one footprint pressed into the ground—never to be dug out, never to be driven away.

Zi Jian and Little Stone both stopped and watched Zi Bofeng wave his arms excitedly, painting a picture of this place's future.

Before they knew it, they had been infected by his enthusiasm. They listened and smiled along with him.

"I'll make life better and better for the villagers of Lower Yan Village. I'll make this patch of heaven and earth more and more beautiful. I'll let Dad, Little Stone, and Auntie all live good lives."

I will. I will!

Hu Caijun knocked on the door and waited outside. Only after a long while did a muffled voice sound from within. "Come in!"

Hu Caijun gently pushed the door open. He glanced up once, then lowered his head and entered. "Prefect."

The Prefect's office was somewhat stifling. The windows on all four sides were shut tight, leaving the room airtight. Tree shadows fell upon the window paper in the sunlight, swaying gently. The Prefect sat beneath a plaque that read "Diligently Cultivate, Diligently Learn," frowning in thought as though troubled by something.

Hu Caijun glanced over and saw what appeared to be Meng City's accounts. The alarming deficit figures were tangled together line after line.

After Hu Caijun had stood before him for quite some time, the Prefect finally rubbed his temples, raised his head, and looked at him.

"Oh, it's you... Your name is...?" The Prefect had clearly forgotten his name.

"This student is Hu Caijun." Hu Caijun hurriedly bowed, inwardly helpless that the Prefect could not even remember his name.

"Oh, what is it?" The Prefect leaned back against his chair. The hard wooden chair was uncomfortable even with a cushion, so his mood was not particularly good.

"Reporting to you, sir." Hu Caijun hurriedly presented the booklet in his hands. "Yesterday, this student heard the Prefect mention tax revenue and accounts..." He raised his eyes and saw that the Prefect showed no displeasure, merely waiting for him to continue, so he went on. "This student took the liberty of checking some of the tax records on your desk and spent the night calculating them. I discovered that taxes from certain places had not been collected."

"Because time was limited, this student first calculated the nine villages of one township. Several of those villages had severely underpaid their taxes. This student believes that if officials are sent to recover the outstanding levies from those villages, it should temporarily relieve the pressing crisis."

The Prefect took the booklet from Hu Caijun and frowned as he read. Every entry was supported by reason and evidence, with every incoming and outgoing sum recorded in exceptional detail. The yearly levies of all nine villages had been copied onto the paper one by one. Taxes from each place were not limited to silver; grain, labor service, and the like could all be used to offset taxes. Every item had been calculated according to market prices, added and subtracted, multiplied and divided, with remarkable clarity. After reading for a while, the Prefect's brow relaxed. "Your name is Hu Caijun? You are skilled in calculation?"

"This student is unworthy, but has studied it a little." Hu Caijun bowed again. "Since childhood, this student has enjoyed studying ancient mathematical classics such as Nine Chapters, Sea Island, Sunzi, Five Cao, Zhang Qiujian, Xiahou Yang, Zhoubi, Five Classics, Zhuishu, and Jigu. I once considered taking the examination in mathematical calculation, but calculation could not ultimately be considered the great path, so I devoted myself to studying poetry and books."

"Mm, not bad..." The Prefect frowned as he looked over the records. He was actually a rather broad-brush sort of man, and his style of governance was the same. During his years as Prefect, he had neglected many details, and local customs had become somewhat more open as well. But Heaven had refused to cooperate. In recent years, there had either been severe drought or great floods. This broad-brush approach of not haggling with the people over every last detail had gradually ceased to work. That was why the Prefect had recently opened wide the channels for advice and selected talent, intending to strengthen his administrative staff and take a more meticulous path.

Though he was not skilled in calculation, he understood how to employ people. Seeing Hu Caijun take the matter so seriously, he said, "In that case, send word to the Chief Clerk and have him assign people to press the matter. Organize the rest as well. If you need help, go to the accounts office and find several people. Tell them it was my arrangement."

"Thank you, Prefect!" Hu Caijun bowed with neither servility nor arrogance, then turned and walked out. Only once he had reached the doorway did he let out a cold snort and lower his gaze.

Among those nine villages, the one ranked first bore three glaring characters: "Lower Yan Village."

For the past ten years, Lower Yan Village's accounts had been a complete mess, with each running entry contradicting the next. Hu Caijun had expended the strength of nine oxen and two tigers to sort the accounts out, and had calculated that Lower Yan Village was short by a full three-tenths of its required taxes. To be safe, Hu Caijun had deliberately checked everything against itself. He believed it was clear and flawless, watertight without a single leak. Even the accountant in his own household would not be able to spot the slightest error. And now that the Prefect had ordered the outstanding taxes collected, Hu Caijun refused to believe Zi Bofeng could still conjure flowers from thin air.

Zi Bofeng, Zi Bofeng. When it came to understanding the classics and policy, I admit I am no match for you. But when it comes to calculation, you, Zi Bofeng, cannot catch up to me even riding a horse.

Back then, you said I, Hu Caijun, was nothing but a petty schemer. Then I will let you know that I am not skilled only in schemes. This grand, upright open scheme of mine—let's see how you take it!

If you have only just become village head and then have your official cap stripped away, wouldn't that be laughable enough to kill someone?

And the most important part of this move was displaying his capability before the Prefect. Hu Caijun's greatest skill was giving people exactly what they wanted. He could see that the Prefect now wished to change his governing approach, so he had taken the first step. If he handled this well, he might one day become the Prefect's trusted confidant.

Thinking of his triumph, Hu Caijun could not help throwing back his head and laughing loudly. But the instant his laughter rang out, his face stiffened. Across from him stood a tall young general with resolute features, dressed in military attire. The general was watching him suspiciously, one hand pressed against the long saber at his waist, as though judging whether to seize him.

Hu Caijun recognized this general. He was the Companion Cavalry Commandant who had ordered him harshly interrogated and nearly beaten a confession out of him. His surname was Luo, his given name Nan, and his courtesy name was Qianshan.

"General Luo!" Hu Caijun hurriedly bowed, then turned and left in haste.

The young general watched him depart with suspicion before withdrawing his gaze. He walked to the Prefect's study, raised his hand, and knocked. "This subordinate requests an audience with the Prefect!"

Without waiting for an answer from within, he pushed open the door and entered. Cupping his hands to the Prefect, he said, "Godfather!"

"Sit..." The Prefect casually waved a hand. The young general sat upright at one side, his back ramrod straight even while seated.

"Nan'er, you came at the right time. I have a letter here. Ride at full speed to Quzhou Prefecture at once and see Lord Sun, the Chief Secretary. Once Lord Sun has replied, ride back at full speed immediately. This matter is highly confidential. You must handle it personally and cannot let anyone else know."

The young general's expression turned solemn. He rose and answered, "Yes, Prefect!"

The Prefect looked at the young general, a trace of gentleness showing in his eyes. Smiling, he said, "Lord Sun, the Chief Secretary, has a daughter whose courtesy name is Eying..."

Before he could finish, the young general had already taken the letter, cupped his hands, and turned to flee.

"This child... He's so grown up already and still won't marry. The moment marriage is mentioned, he turns and runs. What is he thinking? Hmph, when you come back, I'll have your godmother give you a proper talking-to..." The Prefect could neither laugh nor cry. He shook his head and fell silent with a frown.

The Zi father and son worked until the sun set before they finally finished tidying the house.

Zi Bofeng truly loved the memories of that other Zi Bofeng to death. His various handicraft skill points had practically all been maxed out. Whether carpentry or calligraphy and painting, the current Zi Bofeng could be said to excel at everything. Working with his father, they dismantled the tables and chairs, repaired whatever could be repaired, pieced together whatever could not, then added wood carried over from their own yard and turned it into several shelves. The two worked in perfect harmony, skilled and practiced, and finished quickly.

Zi Bofeng was somewhat puzzled. With such excellent skill points, how had he been taught into becoming a bookworm? Just what sort of godlike figure had his Private School teacher been? He was simply too incredible.

"They'll do for now. Later, I'll make you a proper set of tables and chairs." Zi Jian looked at the somewhat presentable furniture and shook his head.

Zi Bofeng had already planned to draw up a design and have his father make several sets of modern furniture for him. First of all, an ergonomic chair was absolutely necessary. These chairs were truly too uncomfortable. Sitting on one all day would exhaust a person to death.

After a day of labor, Zi Bofeng was tired as well. After dinner, he lay down on the bed, intending to rest briefly before finding a target he could raise as a monster. Who could have known that once he lay down, when he opened his eyes again, it was nearly dawn.

Record of Raising Monsters