Although Yan Qing was worried, she was not part of the Shi Family and did not understand their affairs. Had she not taken the initiative to ask Dihuai to inquire, she would never have known that Er Yitai had fallen ill.

Shi Ting had deliberately kept this from her, most likely to spare her worry. After all, distant water cannot quench immediate thirst — there was nothing she could do from so far away.

Just then, the Yan Family’s Er Yitai, Guo Yanrong, arrived with two maids to visit Yan Qing.

Yan Ling was still at the old matriarch’s southern courtyard, chanting sutras and keeping a vegetarian diet. Guo Yanrong, eager to rescue her daughter from that situation as soon as possible, had no choice but to work even harder. Only by demonstrating that her ability to manage the inner household surpassed that of Madam Yan could she earn recognition from Master Yan.

Besides Master Yan, Yan Qing was also one of her primary targets for winning favor. So the moment Guo Yanrong returned from Tai Shan, she came calling.

Yan Qing was anxious about Shi Ting, but she could hardly turn her away. So she sat down and began chatting with Guo Yanrong about the preparations for the upcoming grand wedding.

Just as Yan Qing had anticipated, Guo Yanrong had attended to every last detail of her wedding arrangements — even more meticulously than Madam Yan had prepared for Yan Qin’s wedding. On one hand, she was desperate to curry favor with both Yan Qing and Master Yan. On the other hand, anything that brought honor to Yan Qing would be agreed to by Master Yan without a second thought, no matter what Guo Yanrong requested.

“Er Yiniang, are you the one in charge of our Yan Mansion’s gift registry?” Yan Qing asked, feigning casual curiosity.

Guo Yanrong replied, “Something as important as the gift registry is naturally managed by the First Madam. Even though I’ve temporarily taken over the inner household affairs, everything will ultimately be returned to her.”

“So the gift registry is in your hands now?”

“It’s still with the First Madam. Something that important — she would never entrust it to anyone else. If there’s a matter of social reciprocity, I simply send someone to ask her about it.”

“There’s only one copy?”

“Just the one.”

In great households, whether for a funeral or a wedding, an accountant would sit at the entrance collecting money and keeping records. Once the accountant had verified the figures against the cash received, the records would be handed to the head of the household, who would then have someone transcribe everything into the gift registry, organized by category.

For instance, the Liu Family, who were close friends of the Yan Family, would have their own dedicated page in the registry. Each entry recorded how much the Liu Family had given as a gift on each occasion — how much for a wedding, how much for a funeral, listed out clearly, item by item.

“What if the gift registry were lost?” Yan Qing asked.

“Oh my goodness.” Guo Yanrong looked slightly startled. “In great households, social obligations are beyond counting. Every family’s contributions are tracked entirely by that registry. That’s why whoever manages it guards it with the utmost care. Just look at the First Madam — she keeps it clutched in her hands like a miser, never letting it go.”

“Can’t another copy simply be written?”

“My dear Miss, social favors and gifts are too many to count, and they span across different times. Who could possibly remember each one?”

Guo Yanrong was right. The gift registry was not something recorded all at once — over time, even the person who originally wrote it would have long since forgotten every entry.

Luo Huaimeng had never managed the inner household, and this time she had truly been careless.

After Guo Yanrong left, Yan Qing remained uneasy. She immediately wrote a letter to Shi Ting. If the gift registry were truly lost, they might still be able to consult the accountant who had originally recorded everything — but whether he could recall all those accounts was another matter entirely. Given how much time had passed and how many entries there were, it would take someone with an extraordinary memory.

After sending the letter, Yan Qing found herself too restless to sit still. By the afternoon, she decided to make a visit to the Military Police Bureau.

But when she arrived, the trip proved fruitless — Shi Ting was not there.

“Miss Yan.” Zheng Yun showed no surprise at seeing her. “Seventh Brother just left.”

“Where did he go?”

“He left together with Chief Yuan.”

Yan Qing thought of Chief Yuan Hang from the Records Division — the extraordinary man who never forgot a number and could locate any case file in a room full of documents at a moment’s notice.

Yuan Hang ordinarily managed records and never worked in the field. Even when the bureau was short-staffed, he would not venture out. The fact that he had left with Shi Ting suggested something significant was at hand.

Zheng Yun noticed her puzzlement and explained, “Seventh Brother saw your letter and sent someone to track down the accountant who had kept the Shi Family’s gift accounts over the years. It turned out that this accountant is none other than Chief Yuan’s father.”

“What a coincidence!” Yan Qing said, genuinely astonished.

“Chief Yuan’s father is a well-known accountant in Shun Cheng, specializing in recording social gifts and obligations for great households.” Zheng Yun said, “Seventh Brother asks you not to worry — he will handle this matter.”

Since Shi Ting had already begun to act, there was nothing more Yan Qing could do. She left a note, simply wishing him success in everything.

Shi Ting had brought Yuan Hang to find none other than Yuan Hang’s own father, Mr. Yuan.

This Mr. Yuan was Shun Cheng’s most celebrated accountant. He did not work in trade or commerce — rather, he specialized in collecting and recording gifts at the weddings and funerals of great households.

Every prominent family in Shun Cheng would engage Mr. Yuan whenever they held an event. It was said that over more than a decade in this profession, he had never missed a single coin or made a single error in his accounts.

Over time, households came to trust Mr. Yuan so completely that many masters would simply count the total sum and glance at the final figure to verify the accounts — without going through them entry by entry.

All the Shi Family’s weddings and funerals had passed through Mr. Yuan’s hands, after which household servants would transcribe everything into the gift registry.

Mr. Yuan had originally intended to groom Yuan Hang as his successor, but Yuan Hang had no interest in the trade. When the Military Police Bureau posted a recruitment notice, he applied for the records management position and was actually hired.

The Records Division had just been established at the time. Yuan Hang practically lived there, working day and night to organize all the files from the bureau’s predecessor organization. Every record he sorted through, he could recite from memory.

Shi Ting himself had a remarkable memory, but even he had to concede that Yuan Hang — with his photographic recall and extraordinary sensitivity for numbers — surpassed him.

Mr. Yuan was in his room, leisurely sipping tea, when he spotted Shi Ting and Yuan Hang entering. He immediately rose to his feet and clasped his hands in greeting. “I didn’t expect Director Shi to honor me with a visit.”

“You’re too kind, Mr. Yuan.” Shi Ting returned the bow.

Mr. Yuan showed Shi Ting to a seat at the table and asked with a smile, “Has Director Shi come to see me about something?”

Shi Ting came straight to the point without any preamble. “Mr. Yuan, have all the gift accounts for the Shi Family passed through your hands?”

Mr. Yuan stroked his goatee. “In Xin Year 193, I began keeping gift accounts for the Shi Family.”

It was now nearly Xin Year 204 — meaning these accounts had been kept for nearly ten years.

“Mr. Yuan, can you still recall every single entry?”

Shi Ting knew he was asking a great deal. Ten years of accounts, countless different figures — and Mr. Yuan did not keep records for the Shi Family alone.

What surprised him was that Mr. Yuan simply smiled. “As long as Director Shi gives me a name, I can provide you with the exact figures.”

Shi Ting was visibly taken aback. Yuan Hang, standing to one side, showed no surprise at all — it was clearly something he had long grown accustomed to.

“Then please tell me about the Yan Family in the western part of the city — headed by Yan Qi.”

Mr. Yuan stroked his beard again, appearing to contemplate for a moment. “Xin Year 196: five hundred silver yuan, twenty bolts of white cloth, one set of funeral paper offerings…”

Xin Year 196 — that was the year the Shi Family’s old patriarch had passed away, and the first time the Yan Family had sent a condolence gift to the Shi Family.

“Xin Year 200: one thousand silver yuan, five sets of gold and silver jewelry, one pair of white jade bracelets, one set of glass ornaments, one carved stone sculpture from Tai Shan Lake.”

Xin Year 200 — that was the year Shi Qian had married.

As Mr. Yuan recalled each item one by one, Shi Ting moved from astonishment to admiration.

He rose to his feet and clasped his hands in a bow. “I have come today to ask a favor of Mr. Yuan.”

Seeing this, Mr. Yuan quickly stood as well, and even Yuan Hang, seated nearby, grew restless. “Seventh Brother, we’re all family — there’s no need for such formality.”

Yuan Hang, Zheng Yun, and the others were among those who had followed Shi Ting from the very beginning. They all called him Seventh Brother, even though none of them were actually younger than him.

Because Yuan Hang managed the Records Division and never worked in the field or participated in investigations, he rarely appeared in public — yet he was one of Shi Ting’s most devoted subordinates.

Shi Ting acknowledged this with a nod. “I would trouble Mr. Yuan to transcribe a copy of the Shi Family’s gift accounts from the past ten years.”

“For me, this is a small matter — Director Shi is far too modest,” said Mr. Yuan.

“For you it may be a small matter, but for me it is a matter of great importance.”

Shi Ting expressed his thanks, and Mr. Yuan promised to begin the transcription immediately and to have it delivered to the Military Police Bureau the following day.

Upon returning to the bureau, Zheng Yun told Shi Ting that Yan Qing had been by to visit.

Hearing this, Shi Ting knew at once that she had come out of worry for him.

He had not told her in order to spare her that worry, yet she had found out anyway.

He shook his head with a rueful smile. It seemed that from now on, whether good news or bad, it would be better to tell her — otherwise she would wear herself out investigating on her own.

He unfolded the note she had left. It said nothing of consequence, yet concern was woven through every word. A faint smile rose in his eyes as he gently folded the note back up.

No word had come from Shi Ting’s side, and this left Yan Qing too anxious to settle.

Er Dan lay draped over the table, gazing up at her with a pair of wide, innocent eyes.

“Little tiger, little tiger, dummy!” The big parrot at the window was thoroughly hostile toward this newcomer. Convinced of its own senior status, it never missed a chance to taunt and provoke.

But the current Er Dan was nothing more than a paper tiger — not even a match for a common cat. Faced with the parrot’s insufferable arrogance, it dared not make a sound, and could only swallow its indignation in silence.

Yan Qing fed Er Dan some cow’s milk, and it licked her hand in return, as if in gratitude.

She thought to herself: Er Dan looked adorably small right now, small enough to hold in her arms. But when it grew up one day…

She shuddered to imagine it.

That evening, Yan Qing bathed and changed into a cotton nightgown. After settling Er Dan in for the night, she walked to the rear window and drew back the latch.

Having grown accustomed during their time in Tai Shan to his late-night visits, she had developed a habit — whether or not he would come, she always left a window open.

After unlatching it, Yan Qing returned to her bed, pulled the covers over herself, and lay down.

—