Chapter 311

The secretary led the station master away, leaving only Pan Yun and Ming Ren in the study.

Seeing Ming Ren's pale face, Pan Yun said, "Your Honor is busy—I'll take my leave?"

Ming Ren smiled faintly. "How could I let the young junior uncle of Mount Sanqing depart empty-handed? The Mountain God Fair is coming soon—why have you come to the county town now?"

Pan Yun immediately cried poverty: "Wang Cong said this year, over three thousand people will come to the fair; the Mountain God Temple's blessing bags aren't enough, so we need to buy supplies—but each bag requires six jin and six liang, so even with the minimum of three thousand bags, that's nearly twenty thousand jin of grain, not to mention herbs and other items…"

In short: the fair costs a fortune, and she's broke.

But Ming Ren wasn't rich either—he'd just squeezed the landlords for silver, resettling the beggars and refugees; where was he to get money for her?

Pan Yun changed tack: "Grain and herbs we can manage, but physicians are hard to find."

"Devotees braving snow and wind come to the fair seeking health and safety; knowing we offer free clinics, they'll all flock to us—but only my senior brother and a few others…"

Ming Ren understood. "During the fair's two days, I'll send the county's physicians."

He paused, then added: "The county will pay to persuade them—to offer free clinics."

Pan Yun immediately rose to thank him and took her leave.

Ming Ren rose to escort her out; seeing her cheerful departure, he called her back. "I always thought monks avoided worldly affairs—if Wang Daochang and Wang Cong met Su Dashan, they'd give him money, give him talismans—but they wouldn't come to me on his behalf."

Ming Ren stood in the shadow of the doorway, his expression unreadable. "Once the corvée is audited, many in the county will hate me—but I am the magistrate, and this is my duty; such hatred is justified. You are different."

"Those with intent can easily uncover the truth—you've not only drawn yourself into this vast karmic web, but dragged Mount Sanqing into it too. Now that you've done it, do you regret it?"

Pan Yun stood in the sunlight and looked up. "I do not regret it."

She said: "Yellow talismans can only save him temporarily—they don't solve his plight. Money might free him from suffering, but when he leaves, another Su Dashan will appear—that's my karma. I don't know how many Su Dashans remain in this county, but since Your Honor has the courage to burn the boats, what fear does a poor Daoist priest have in being the one to tear open the window?"

"All this hatred—I can bear it. I only fear being entangled in the karma of the innocent. Only by uncovering the truth and restoring order can these karmic debts be resolved."

Ming Ren stared at her, then stepped out of the doorway's shadow, standing in the sunlight to meet her gaze. "Do you believe the corvée the people endure now is normal order?"

"Not normal," Pan Yun snapped. "But can you break it? Can you adjust it?"

Ming Ren: "... No."

Pan Yun: "Ask me again when you've become Chief Minister. Right now, what we're doing is within our means—and it's your duty as magistrate."

Ming Ren laughed aloud. "You're right. This is indeed my duty—and within my means."

His resolve to audit the corvée instantly hardened.

Pan Yun walked from the magistrate's office toward the main street, where Seeing Miao Zhen and Miao He stood with arms crossed, watching laborers load grain onto ox-carts.

These laborers were temporary hires from the grain shop; nearby, others stood watching them with envy.

As Pan Yun approached, Seeing Miao Zhen said: "Fifteen shi of rice—we bought in bulk, so it's three liang and six qian."

Pan Yun pulled a silver ingot and a silver coin from her sleeve and handed them over.

Seeing Miao Zhen took them to pay.

After settling the bill, she asked: "Shall we visit Granny Sun?"

Pan Yun shook her head. "I asked Magistrate Ming—their house is nearly done, and they've started school; they're studying right now. Let's not disturb them."

The Shopkeeper waited until they finished speaking, then smiled and approached. "Little Daoist, is all this grain for the temple?"

Pan Yun nodded.

The Shopkeeper lowered his voice: "I've heard—many in the county are talking about going to the fair. Little Daoist, this little rice won't be enough, will it?"

Pan Yun smiled sweetly. "Prosperity is always good."

"It's good, yes—but it costs a lot too. Are you planning to buy grain in the state capital?"

Pan Yun quickly glanced at Seeing Miao Zhen; seeing her blink, she knew she'd let slip the hint during bargaining.

Though she had no intention of buying in the state capital, if it could get the Shopkeeper to lower his price, why not?

So Pan Yun nodded.

The Shopkeeper said: "A round trip wastes time and strength—why bother?"

"Little Daoist, if you want cheaper rice, I have some."

Pan Yun: "How much cheaper? I need mostly white rice, less red rice, red beans, and other grains."

The Shopkeeper: "Easy. One shi of white rice—I'll give you two hundred and forty wen."

Pan Yun was stunned, skeptical. "Same quality as the one we just picked?"

The Shopkeeper hesitated. "Little Daoist, you get what you pay for. The stuff given to the poor doesn't need to be so good…"

Pan Yun: "If the Mountain God Temple fills blessing bags with substandard goods, am I doing merit for the Mountain God—or inviting his wrath?" The Shopkeeper: …

Pan Yun said: "Don't persuade me further. If I agree, you share in this karma—and if the Mountain God punishes, you'll share that too."

The Shopkeeper jumped back two steps, putting distance between them. "Y-you, Little Daoist, don't scare me!"

Pan Yun snapped: "Do I look like I'm scaring you? The Mountain God of Mount Sanqing is everywhere."

Before great profit, the Shopkeeper didn't believe in spirits—but Pan Yun's certainty made him believe a little.

Pan Yun asked: "Two hundred and forty wen per shi—same quality as now?"

The Shopkeeper gritted his teeth. "Two hundred and forty won't do—at least two hundred and ninety."

Pan Yun turned to Seeing Miao Zhen: "What's the silver-to-copper exchange rate today?"

Seeing Miao Zhen: "I checked at the moneychanger before we came—twelve hundred wen today."

Pan Yun turned back to the Shopkeeper. "Today, fifteen shi for three liang six qian works out to two hundred and eighty-eight wen per shi. Shopkeeper, you're not being honest—I'm negotiating seriously, yet your price is worse than today's retail."

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The Shopkeeper looked embarrassed—he hadn't expected Pan Yun to calculate so fast, without even an abacus. He couldn't have done it himself…

Seeing Pan Yun's displeasure and turning to leave, the Shopkeeper feared losing such an important customer—and worse, feared she'd spread word and ruin his shop's reputation. He hurried after her, blocking her path. "Little Daoist, I'll give one more step—two hundred and eighty wen per shi?"

Pan Yun snorted at him and walked around him.

The Shopkeeper followed behind: "Little Daoist, Little Daoist—you know our shop sells white rice at three hundred wen per shi retail. It's winter—prices will rise. With this year's weather, next year's will soar even more. This price is already a bargain…"

Pan Yun's face darkened. "I buy grain to earn merit. With such volume, I dare not buy from you."

The shopkeeper gritted his teeth, "Two hundred and sixty cash, no less—I would never deceive a young Daoist with inferior goods."

Pan Yun stopped walking and turned back. "Done!"

The shopkeeper's heart ached so badly he could barely breathe; after Pan Yun passed him and entered the shop, he couldn't help but slap himself twice hard, "Stupid mouth, stupid mouth—I could've taken two hundred and seventy cash..."

But words spoken are like water spilled—you can't take them back, unless you go back on your word.

Yet as a merchant, you may persuade customers to buy inferior goods, but you cannot break your word, so the shopkeeper could only grit his teeth and accept it.

He hurried after Pan Yun into the shop, forcing a smile: "Young Daoist, how much rice do you still need? I'll have someone mill it right away."

The grain shop held mostly unhusked grains and wheat—rice and flour required milling.

Pan Yun bought nearly half the shop's entire stock of rice in this one trip.

After a moment's thought, Pan Yun said, "I need two hundred shi more."

The shopkeeper's wound instantly healed; he smiled, "Young Daoist, you're generous—I'll calculate your bill right away."

The shopkeeper clattered away at his abacus, then said, "Two hundred and sixty cash per shi of rice—that's fifty-two thousand copper coins. Young Daoist, you must pay a deposit so I can send someone to mill it."

Pan Yun said, "Fine. Draft the contract—the total silver is forty-three taels and three mace."

The shopkeeper froze, quickly checked his abacus again, then hesitated, "At today's silver rate, yes, that's correct—but with the New Year approaching... Young Daoist, shall we settle in copper coins instead? Or use the silver rate on the day you pay the balance?"

Pan Yun frowned, then nodded. "Alright. Use the silver rate on the day the balance is paid."

Pan Yun paid him five taels as deposit, and both parties signed the contract.

Since the cart carried fifteen shi of rice, the three did not take it into town but left it under the grain shop's care before heading to the mutton soup shop for soup and bread.

Opposite them was the money house.

Pan Yun ate while watching the money house.

Seeing Miao Zhen: "Young Uncle, are you planning to trade silver?"

Miao He gobbled noisily, her face nearly buried in the bowl; she lifted her head, bewildered. "You can trade silver?"

Seeing Miao Zhen glanced at her. "Of course. Today's silver rate is twelve hundred cash per tael. If we exchange forty-three taels of silver for copper today, that's fifty-one thousand six hundred cash. Three days from now, when we collect the grain, if the silver rate drops back to the usual one thousand and fifty cash per tael, we'd only need forty-five thousand one hundred and fifty cash—the extra six thousand four hundred and fifty cash is our profit."

Miao He stared at her, confused but still praised her: "Miao Zhen, you're amazing at math."

Seeing Miao Zhen: "... I specialize in fate and astronomy—isn't being good at math natural?"

Miao He turned to Pan Yun. "Young Uncle, are we trading silver?"

Pan Yun soaked the bread in mutton soup and fed it to Pan Xiaohei. "Lower your voices—the money shop across the way will hear everything."

(End of Chapter)