Ever since the iron doors of the old archives room were opened, that stale, musty smell had never dissipated.
As night fell, the various departments of the Ministry of Revenue gradually finished their shifts, and the lanterns in the main hall went out one by one.
In the massive government office, only the footsteps of the night-duty scribes and the chirping of crickets remained.
Deep inside the old archives room, however, two oil lamps were lit.
The flames flickered wildly in the night breeze sweeping through the hall, illuminating walls filled with pitch-black filing shelves.
Wooden chests and paper boxes were stacked densely on top. Some of the chest corners were so heavily eaten by termites that they were pitted and would crumble at the slightest touch.
Xu Youde stood before the innermost row of shelves. Holding the red-stamped warrant he had obtained during the day, he handed it to the old archivist, Han Bingnian.
Han Bingnian was a veteran of the Ministry of Revenue. Having spent nineteen years in this old archives room, his hair was completely white, and his back was severely hunched.
He held up his lamp, leaning in to study the warrant for a long time, then flipped it over to inspect the red ink seal on the back, muttering to himself.
"Lord Xu, the canal boat repair accounts from the Yi-Mao year, twenty years ago. Eight chests in total, numbered Ding-31 through Ding-38."
He unfastened a large ring of rusty keys from his waist and walked deeper into the room, carrying the lamp and rambling as he looked back.
"These eight chests have been sitting on the bottom row, buried for almost twenty years."
"Inside are all the prices for boat planks, mast purchases, hemp rope usage, paint reimbursements, and the rosters for the shipwrights' wages."
"Every official who has ever come to audit the accounts covers their nose and detours around this row, thinking it is bad luck."
Xu Youde did not reply.
Behind him stood Xu Fu, two copying scribes brought from the Count's manor, and a man wearing a short grey cloth shirt.
The man blended inconspicuously among the scribes. He carried a bamboo basket holding pen and ink, walked with his head down, and did not speak a single word.
This was the secret spy Shen Lian had left at the Count's manor.
Han Bingnian squatted down, fumbled around in the bottom shelf for a moment, and dragged out the first wooden chest.
A yellowed paper seal was affixed to the lid. The corners of the seal were peeling, and the ink characters on it had blurred into a smudge.
Xu Youde was in no rush to open the lid.
"Xu Fu."
Xu Fu quickly stepped forward.
"Do not flip through the accounts just yet."
"Take the scribes and record the seals, chest numbers, locations of insect damage, and missing page marks of every chest in a ledger."
"For every chest opened, write out a handover receipt, and have Elder Han press his thumbprint on it."
Xu Fu froze for a moment. He opened his mouth to ask why, but upon seeing Xu Youde's expression, he swallowed his words. He obediently laid out the paper ledger, dipped his brush in ink, and prepared to write.
Han Bingnian was straightforward; he rolled up his sleeves and helped move the chests.
"Rest assured, My Lord. I have guarded this archives room for nineteen years. I know exactly when each chest came in and whether anyone has touched it in between."
"If you want my thumbprint, I will give it. Either way, no one is fighting over these moldy accounts."
The first chest was opened. The account books inside were indeed green with mold. The pages were stuck together, making a tearing sound when opened.
One scribe held the lamp while the other turned the pages. They counted the account books in the chest one by one, recording the numbers and page counts.
Taking advantage of the scribes being engrossed in their recording, Xu Fu leaned in close to Xu Youde's ear and lowered his voice.
"Master, what can we possibly find in these rotten ship repair accounts? Shang Qitai has locked all the embezzlement records of the Northern border military rations in the Minister's study, where we cannot even touch them. What is the use of digging through the expenses for broken wood and rotten rope?"
Xu Youde's voice was so soft that only Xu Fu beside him could hear.
"Do not look for the embezzlement records."
"I want you to look for three phrases in this pile of moldy paper: 'Official Canal Transport Contracted Out,' 'Trial Merchant Shipping,' and 'Tongji Boatmen.'"
Xu Fu was completely bewildered, but he did not dare ask any more questions. He turned around to urge the scribes to speed up.
They finished going through the first chest. The unit prices for boat planks, the quantities of iron nails, the tung oil reimbursements, and the daily wages of the shipwrights—all were trivial, fragmented figures without the slightest abnormality.
The second chest was largely the same as the first. Even the shade of the ink was similar, clearly copied by the same batch of scribes.
The two scribes' fingers turned black from flipping pages, and their eyelids were drooping heavily. One of them could not help but let out a huge yawn.
Han Bingnian sat in the corner holding a tea mug. He looked at the moonlight outside the window and spoke.
"Lord Xu, it is the third watch of the night."
"These chests are not going anywhere. How about we continue the inspection tomorrow? My old bones can handle it, but I am afraid the two scribes' backs will not be able to take it."
Xu Youde pointed at the third wooden chest.
"Move it."
Han Bingnian sighed, put down his tea mug, and bent over to drag the chest.
This chest was significantly heavier than the first two, and he could not drag it alone.
The grey-clothed spy put down his bamboo basket and stepped forward to lend a hand. Together, the two of them hauled the chest under the lamp.
The lid was opened. The top layer of account books was no different from the previous two chests. Xu Fu flipped through a few books and shook his head.
The scribes continued to dig deeper. When they reached the very last book at the bottom of the chest, Xu Fu's hand suddenly stopped.
It was a thin booklet. On the cover, written in cinnabar ink, was "Yi-Mao Year Jianghuai Official Canal Transport Repair Master Register."
In the bottom right corner, it bore a "Voided Account" stamp. A corner had been gnawed off by mice.
Xu Fu opened the cover. The paper inside was preserved much better than the exterior, and the handwriting was clearly legible.
He flipped through the pages one by one. When he reached the middle, a folded piece of paper slipped out from between the pages.
The paper was folded four times, and its texture was much thicker than the rough paper used for the account books. Once unfolded, it was densely packed with names, boat numbers, and codes.
Xu Fu moved closer to the lamp and read it line by line.
"The first batch of merchant ship firms undertaking official canal transport, shipmaster names, license plate numbers, guarantors..."
His voice grew quieter as he read. When he reached the middle lines, he froze completely, the paper trembling in his hands.
Xu Youde snatched the paper away and leaned under the lamp to look for himself.
Tongji Canal Guild, Lei Zhen, guarantor's signature... Guangyi Merchant Firm, Lu Huaide, transporting the first batch of Huai-Si transfer grain... Huai-Si Transfer Granary Supervisor, Cao Wenxing, inspection signature.
Next to every name was stamped the Ministry of Revenue's verification seal from that year. Although the vermilion ink had faded, the characters were still recognizable.
At the very bottom were the signatures of the handling officials and the date.
Xu Youde smoothed the paper out on the chest lid and waved the two scribes over.
"Make three copies. Word for word. Even the positions of the seals must be clearly marked."
The two scribes immediately ground ink, laid out paper, and lowered their heads to write furiously.
The grey-clothed spy quietly stepped to the door, turning his back to the group and blocking the only entrance and exit.
Xu Fu squatted next to Xu Youde. Pointing at a line of tiny text at the end of the roster, his voice trembled.
"Master, look here: 'Repair silver shall be advanced by the merchant ships, and later deducted from the canal grain spoilage allowance.'"
Xu Youde stared at that line of text for a long time.
"We found it."
Xu Fu did not understand.
Xu Youde scratched a mark under that line with his fingernail.
"Twenty years ago, the canal transport system was reformed. Official boats were contracted out to merchants to transport grain, and the merchants advanced the money to repair the boats. Where did the repair money come from? It was deducted from the canal grain spoilage."
He stood up and paced back and forth in the cramped archives room.
"This is the origin of the rule."
"The merchants advance silver to fix the boats first, and then the Ministry of Revenue pays them back from the spoilage of the military rations."
"As for how much the spoilage actually is... that is entirely up to the Ministry of Revenue."
Xu Fu finally understood, and his face instantly turned deathly pale.
"So in the following years, the numbers on the transit loss accounts grew larger and larger, all siphoned out through this loophole?"
"Exactly! Once this loophole was opened, reporting transit losses became a legitimate means of reimbursement."
"Over-reporting losses meant more silver was allocated. The silver went into the merchants' pockets, and then flowed from their hands to where it was intended to go."
"The Ministry of Revenue stamped it, the transit warehouse signed for it, and the merchant ships issued the manifests."
"A three-way closed loop, practically flawless."
"Those who came later simply escalated this scheme, moving from ship repair funds to military rations, and from thousands of taels of silver to millions."
After copying three transcripts, Xu Youde personally verified them to ensure there were no errors.
One was given to Xu Fu to carry securely back to the Earl's mansion and seal in a hidden compartment.
The second copy was handed to the spy in gray, who stuffed the rolled paper into the hidden lining of a bamboo basket and gave a deadpan nod.
The final copy Xu Youde personally placed back in the original spot of the discarded ledger, at the bottom of the chest, and sealed the lid tight.
He didn't take all eight chests. Instead, he picked only the three most heavily moth-eaten ones and told Xu Fu to find Han Bingnian to issue a withdrawal slip for repairs.
Han Bingnian flipped through the ledger of withdrawal slip templates for a long time, muttering to himself.
"There is a precedent for withdrawing items for repair. A few years ago, the Granary Department also borrowed two chests to air out the mildew."
"The date, chest numbers, and page counts, I will record them all for you."
He earnestly pressed his thumbprint onto the withdrawal slip, even blowing the ink dry before handing it over to Xu Youde.
Xu Youde tucked the slip away and led his men, carrying the three wooden chests, out through the side door of the old archives room.
The archives room was locked once more.
Han Bingnian stood inside the doorway holding a lantern, watching the silhouettes disappear at the end of the corridor, and muttered to himself.
"Investigating ship repair ledgers until the third watch of the night... This Vice Minister really has too much time on his hands."
...
At the same hour.
The night-duty clerk in the Imperial Study set down his brush, blew dry the note he had just written, folded it into a thin strip, and stuffed it into an envelope.
There was only one line of text on the note.
Xu Youde entered the old archives to check twenty-year-old ledgers for transport ship repairs. He took away three moth-eaten and mildewed chests. He did not touch the recent ledgers regarding the Northern border military rations.
The envelope was slipped through the window crack of the Imperial Study. Someone was already waiting outside; they took the envelope and immediately turned to leave.
Half an hour later, Shang Qitai opened the envelope in his own study and read that single line.
He held the slip of paper to the candle flame, watching the fire lick it away until nothing was left.
"Ship repair ledgers?"
Shang Qitai leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth turning down in utter disdain.
"Xu Youde has been pushed to the point of digging through twenty-year-old trash. It seems this old dog truly has no way out."
He picked up the ginseng soup from his desk, took a sip, and put the matter entirely out of his mind.
The Earl of Chengyi's Mansion, the rear study.
The room was brightly lit by candles. Three wooden chests sat on the floor, their lids all thrown open.
Xu Youde sat at his desk, flipping the Master Register of Official Waterway Transport Repairs in Jianghuai for the Year of Yimao to its final page.
The paper on the very last page was thicker than the rest. Held up against the light, a hidden watermark was revealed within the paper's grain.
It was the watermark of the Tongji Transport Guild.
A flood dragon coiled around a ship's anchor. It was an old-style stamp from twenty years ago, with bold and rugged ink lines, completely different from the new seal used by the Tongji Transport Guild today.
Xu Youde pulled out the black wooden token left by Shen Lian from his sleeve and placed it next to the watermark.
The blood-red character for Kill on the pitch-black token gave off a dark, somber gleam in the candlelight, resting side by side with the faded flood dragon watermark from two decades ago.
"The root of it all is right here."
