"The muscles in Mother's shoulder are as stiff as ropes," Zhao Wuxu said in a low voice. "Did Mother take the prescription Miss Shen gave us?"
"What are you going to eat?" Lady Wang sneered. "She made me stop taking all those sedatives for seven days. The moment she touched my wrist, she accused me of secretly taking medicine. That girl has such a sharp eye."
Zhao Wuxu's fingers pressed on her shoulder, maintaining the perfect rhythm.
"That's how everyone in Prince Yi's Residence is," he said very softly.
"Mmm, that feels good, go further down..."
On the same night, at the old royal palace.
Two shadows were reflected on the paper window of a small house in the backyard.
Liu Ruyan spread a stack of papers under the lamp, with a copper paperweight pressed down by one corner.
She wasn't wearing her usual scarlet outfit tonight; instead, she wore a plain blue jacket, her hair loosely tied up, making her appear even quieter than during the day.
"News has arrived," she said.
Gu Moran sat opposite her, half a table away.
"Explain."
" Yun Shuyue's birth mother," Liu Ruyan pointed to the first piece of paper, "Passed away in late spring ten years ago. The funeral was handled by the Provincial Surveillance Commissioner's office itself; they didn't hire a large funeral parlor in the city, but only used two servants to buy incense, candles, and paper money."
"Where is the record?"
"It's not in the old archives of the prefectural government, and the provincial judicial commissioner's household accounts are in their own hands, so I can't get them." Liu Ruyan raised her eyes, "But the Eternal Prosperity Spirit Paper Shop in the south of the city has its records. Those kinds of shops keep detailed records, down to the last item: who bought it, what they bought, how much it cost, and who handled it. I had someone search for it."
She pushed the second sheet of paper towards her.
Gu Moran leaned over.
The two of them were suddenly closer, and the Cold Fragrance emanating from Liu Ruyan's hair overpowered the smell of lamp oil.
Her nails were neatly manicured, and she placed a dot on a spot on the paper where the color was uneven.
"This page," she said, "Is from a different batch of paper than the pages before and after it."
Gu Moran stared at it for a while.
The copied ledger was a transcription, but the transcriber was an honest man who even noted the original paper color—"This page is thin and white, different from the previous and subsequent pages; it is likely a later addition."
"Did you change the paper?"
"It was replaced once." Liu Ruyan nodded. "The old owner of the paper horse shop said that someone came to his door years ago, saying that the amount of silver in the funeral account of the mansion was written incorrectly and that a new page needed to be copied. That person gave him three strings of cash. For someone who ran a paper horse shop, three strings of cash was enough for half a year's rent, so he replaced it."
"He still remembers what he wrote wrong."
"That shopkeeper has an excellent memory." Liu Ruyan moved her fingertip down half an inch. "So, besides the incense, candles, and paper horses, there was another stroke on that page."
She looked up and met Gu Moran's eyes.
The two were standing so close that she paused for a moment before finishing her sentence.
"Hire eight vehicles."
Gu Moran didn't move.
"Eight carriages will be hired for the funeral," Liu Ruyan said slowly. "The Provincial Surveillance Commissioner's office has its own carriages and horses, so there's no need to hire others. Even if we were to hire more, one carriage would be enough to transport the coffin, one to carry the family members, and at most one more to carry paper horses and incense. Eight carriages, what are they for?"
Who paid?
"He's not a servant of the Provincial Surveillance Commissioner's office." Liu Ruyan pulled out the third piece of paper. "The old shopkeeper said that someone else came to settle the payment, and they paid in cash."
Since the two incidents happened together that day, his colleague, wanting to save trouble, wrote them both down on that page.
The person who came to exchange the paper later did so to move that one stroke out of the paper.
"What's that person's name?"
"He only said he was from Cypress Village, in the timber business, and surnamed Yang." Liu Ruyan looked at him. "According to the information, Cypress Village has only produced one well-known wealthy merchant in recent years. Yang Tie, he has three large houses and nearly two hundred goddaughters."
The wick popped.
Gu Moran pressed her fingers against her knees under the table.
He had just seen the line of text on the system panel this afternoon: Lady Wang, involved in the death of Yun Shuyue's birth mother, an accomplice; with hidden connections, Yang Tie, a wealthy merchant from Cypress Village.
"Send people to continue the investigation," he said. "Also, check the Lantern Market in Yi Prefecture on the night of the Lantern Festival six years ago. Investigate where Yang Tie stayed in the city during those days, the carriage companies he hired, and which gate the carriage left the city through."
"This Yang Tie is probably no ordinary person. Yun Shuyue found Tiedan in that village."
Liu Ruyan nodded, folded the three pieces of paper again, aligned them one by one, and then put them into her sleeve.
"The car dealership's accounts are harder to collect than the paper money shop's; it takes five days."
"Remember not to alert anyone in the Provincial Surveillance Commissioner's residence," Gu Moran paused, "And don't let Yun Shuyue know either."
Liu Ruyan looked at him for a while.
"If she knew that the funeral expenses for her birth mother had been changed, she would climb over the wall tonight."
"Is Your Highness afraid of something happening to her, or afraid of hurting her?" Liu Ruyan leaned forward slightly, her voice softening, "Or perhaps, both?"
Gu Moran leaned forward and kissed him directly.
The following morning.
In the backyard of the No. 12 public toilet in the south of the city, when the seventh bucket of excrement was placed on the ground, Pu Yunshan had already lost count of how many trips he had made that day.
He took the carrying pole off his shoulder, leaned against the wall, and as he straightened up, he heard a slight crack from his back.
Fourth Rank internal force can protect the meridians, but it can't protect the skin on the shoulders rubbed raw by the carrying pole.
He's learned something these days: by focusing his energy in his lower abdomen, he can block out about 70% of the stench.
But every time my luck is halfway through, I remember that bowl of black garlic and aged vinegar.
"Master Pu!"
Auntie Zhao came in through the back door, carrying a piece of red paper in her hand. She walked up to him and started pasting it onto his Hongxiu armband.
Pu Yunshan took half a step back.
"Don't move." Auntie Zhao pressed down on his shoulder with one hand, the strength of which made him for a moment suspect that she had also trained. "It looks better if it's pasted straight."
A red paper was pasted on the armband, with four characters in black ink: "Excellent Hygiene".
"Congratulations, Mr. Pu." Auntie Zhao stepped back half a step, looked him up and down, and nodded with satisfaction. "You haven't spilled a single drop these past few days, the bucket lid has been tightly closed every time, and not a single drop has been spilled in the back alley. The three members of the inspection team have agreed that you will be rated as excellent this month."
Pu Yunshan looked down at the red paper on his body.
He received many comments throughout his life.
The old Daoist priest at Clear Emptiness Daoist Temple said he was "upright and virtuous, worthy of inheriting the mantle," while my father said he was "too impatient." Teachers from several academies in Chuan-Shu said his "writing had substance."
Excellent hygiene, this is the first time.
"Auntie," he said, his voice slightly hoarse, even he himself couldn't detect it, "What's the use of this 'superior' grade?"
"It'll be very useful." Auntie Zhao counted on her fingers, "First, your name will be on the list, posted on the notice board in South Market;
Second, the Prince's Mansion will record a wage for those who perform well, to be collected at the end of the month; third, five extra toilet tickets will be issued.
"Toilet ticket?"
"You're always around here, don't you know about toilet tickets?" Auntie Zhao glared at her. "The rules for using public toilets are: if you throw your trash in the right place, you get a ticket. Collect three tickets, and you can enter a lottery."
Pu Yunshan has indeed seen him these days.
Every afternoon, long queues formed outside the public toilets, with men, women, and children clutching scraps of paper in their hands, their faces filled with such eagerness that when he first arrived in Yi Prefecture, he had thought it was some kind of secret recruitment site.
What can you win in the lottery?
"Potted eggs, salt, flour," Auntie Zhao said, her voice rising, "And the grand prize is a piglet."
Pu Yunshan remained silent.
Auntie Zhao took out a small handful of paper from her bosom, counted out five pieces, and stuffed them into his hand.
"Here you go. We'll draw it at the empty stadium in South Market this afternoon. Go."
"I'm not going."
Why not go?
"Me, a mere..." Pu Yunshan swallowed the word "scholar" back, "What am I, an outsider, supposed to do here?"