The Apothecary Diaries Book 9

The Secret of the Numbers

Their chat was interrupted by the sound of someone coming down the hallway; the hall outside Jinshi's office was specifically designed to make footsteps echo audibly.

"Ah, speaking of my sister, there she is now," Baryou said. Then he added, "If you ever find yourself unsure how to handle Chue, just ask her."

The footsteps came from a woman's shoes, and because Jinshi went out of his way to keep most court ladies at arm's length (fewer problems that way), it was natural to assume it was Maamei approaching.

"Thank you, but forget about Chue," Jinshi replied. He'd simply been curious about how love took root—unfortunately, the inquiry hadn't gained him any useful insight.

There was a knock on the door, and indeed, Maamei appeared, with paperwork in one hand and tea supplies in the other.

"Hello, I'm back... What's with you two?" she asked when she saw them both staring at her.

Jinshi had no intention of asking her about Chue at that moment; if he wasn't careful, there was even a chance that Maamei would get the wrong idea, and he would never live it down. Baryou and Basen weren't the only ones who found themselves cowed by this formidable woman. Instead he tried to think of some way to distract her.

"You're trying to think of some way to distract me, aren't you?" Maamei said, fixing him with a glare.

"Who, me? No, no. I was just wondering if we had an answer yet regarding what I asked you about."

What he had asked her about was the tie attached to Gyoku-ou's recent letter. Flummoxed by the sheet of numbers, Jinshi had called in an expert.

"Ah, you mean Master Lahan. I happen to have a letter from him right here."

When you thought of numbers, you thought of Lahan. It had been the obvious solution, and in this case, it appeared it had also been the right one. Jinshi opened the letter, which indeed detailed the truth behind the numbers.

"May I see it?" Maamei asked, coming over. Jinshi placed the letter on the desk. Even Baryou was apparently intrigued enough to emerge from behind his screen. "What is this? An account ledger?" Maamei said.

"So it would seem," replied Jinshi.

Lahan had sent them a copy of some sort of ledger—it appeared to be related to taxes levied on crops. Some percentage of the taxes collected in the western capital were sent to the national center. The tie seemed to have been made of several battered pages, presumably records from the same area covering several years.

"Perhaps this is it," said Maamei.

It looked to be from the first half of the previous year. The western capital didn't produce many crops, but there were some. Wheat and grapes, cotton and sugar beets, for example. Sheep's wool was another major export of the region.

As Maamei indicated, the records matched up with the mysterious numbers they'd been sent. The numbers, between two and four digits, showed harvest quantities; multiply them by the tax rate to get the amount of tax collected.

"Hm? Look here—the numbers are different." Maamei's finger had stopped over the data for wheat. There, and there alone, the number in the ledger was bigger. "If the numbers are different, it implies someone doctored the ledger. But this doesn't make any sense..."

"I agree. I don't understand," said Jinshi. If the number in the ledger had been smaller, it would have been simple. The impropriety would be exposed. "But the number they reported was bigger." Meaning someone had reported more than had actually been harvested. Naturally, that would mean more taxes would be collected. "They're deliberately paying too much in taxes?"