Chapter 396 Cao Yun Office

Chapter 396: The Grain Transport Office

The next morning, Meng Wan rarely woke up before Song Tingzhou. He had intended to go to the kitchen to make a few scallion pancakes for Song Tingzhou, but just as he finished dressing, the man in bed stirred and woke up.

"Wan'er, where are you going?"

Meng Wan took two steps backward, then leaned over the bed, smiling at him: "To the kitchen to make scallion pancakes. What else would you like? I'll make them for you."

Song Tingzhou, still groggy, kissed the nape of his neck: "Anything is fine. First, keep me company for a bit longer."

Song Tingzhou rarely lingered in bed, and Meng Wan's heart softened. He couldn't refuse, so he had to take off his outer robe again.

Halfway into getting back into bed, he was pinned beneath the spirited man.

So this "sleep" was not that kind of "sleep" at all.

After their little romp, it wasn't too late. They had breakfast in their own courtyard, and the newly bought shrimp and crab were exceptionally fresh. Meng Wan took a sip of seafood congee before he finally had the chance to ask Song Tingzhou, "How was the welcome banquet yesterday?"

Song Tingzhou ate a scallion pancake from his plate while adding a jade-colored siu mai to Meng Wan's bowl: "The banquet had all sorts of people. The great families stayed in the background, but I did get to see all the major merchants of Yangzhou."

Meng Wan finished the siu mai and picked out the small shrimp pieces from his bowl: "Did Cao Jinfang have anything to hide?"

"He's no fool. His administration looks clean so far. I tested the waters by checking the land registry, and sure enough, he got wary. When I asked for the annual tax register, he made excuses and put it off." Song Tingzhou scooped the shrimp from his own bowl into Meng Wan's.

Meng Wan looked thoughtful: "Interesting. He could be our way in. I heard he was transferred away from Yangzhou for three years. The new prefect who replaced him barely lasted three years before being transferred out too, and then Cao Jinfang came back to Yangzhou."

The official who replaced Cao Jinfang must have had family connections to get such a cushy post as Yangzhou prefect. Yet even so, he couldn't hold onto the position. Meng Wan refused to believe a great family wasn't pulling strings behind the scenes.

Song Tingzhou understood what Meng Wan meant. They exchanged a glance, both knowing what the other was thinking.

They chatted while eating. Song Tingzhou would soon take Qiao Xingyuan to the prefectural office to examine the land registry, carefully re-record everything, and keep pressuring Cao Jinfang until he produced a fake annual tax register, if it came to that.

Meng Wan spent the next two days keeping an eye on the Shijian Post Station, though he didn't deliberately watch it every day. He only passed by occasionally while running errands or hanging out with Fang Jinrong.

After confirming the station showed no signs of anything unusual—it just seemed to have poor business—he went to knock on its door on the third morning with Chi Yu.

The station gate opened. Meng Wan stood off to the side and knocked twice, and a cheerful male voice immediately came from inside.

A young man of about twenty, all excited at the prospect of business, came out. But when he saw only two young men, his smile instantly faded. He asked half-heartedly: "Are you here to discuss business? Our station only takes large orders bound for Lingnan."

Meng Wan gave him a look: "Who taught you to talk like that?"

The young man blinked: "Huh?"

Without wasting words, Meng Wan tossed his token to him: "Go get your manager and the postmaster. Tell them someone from Shengjing is here."

Though confused, the young man was intimidated by Meng Wan's composed demeanor. He took the token and hurried into the courtyard: "Uncle Zhao! Someone from Shengjing is here!"

Before long, a kindly-faced, slightly plump elderly man hurried over. He sized up Meng Wan and Chi Yu, carefully returned the token with both hands, and bowed to Meng Wan: "Did Master Meng send you, sir?"

Aside from Meng Wan, there was no one else in all of Yu who would put a young man in charge as a manager.

Meng Wan retrieved the token, his expression cold: "Zhao De, manager of the Yangzhou station—your boss has come in person."

Zhao De's face went stiff. His eyes narrowed as he took another careful look at Meng Wan. This young man looked quite young, dressed in a dark blue long gown with a jade-colored round-collar short jacket, silver-thread embroidery at the cuffs. He stood tall and graceful, with striking features and a commanding look in his eyes.

"M-Master Meng? Why have you come in person?"

Meng Wan looked at this nervous old man and couldn't muster a smile: "You've run the Shijian Station into the ground. If I didn't come to check, I'm afraid your 'only large orders to Lingnan' rule would have the doorstep overgrown with grass."

His voice carried a chill as his gaze swept over the couriers hiding behind Zhao De: "Was that young man's way of receiving guests also taught by you?"

Sweat instantly beaded on Zhao De's forehead. He hurriedly bowed in apology: "Forgive me, Master! I failed to discipline them properly. Please, come inside and sit."

To give his workers a sense of belonging and unity, all of Meng Wan's Shijian Stations had nearly identical layouts. Now, over twenty people stood in the reception hall, all with heads lowered, not daring to look up at their boss.

Meng Wan sat upright in a chair, holding a thin ledger, and asked Zhao De straight out: "Speak. What exactly happened? And why are you the only one here? Where's the postmaster the court assigned?"

Every station was assigned a postmaster—someone with at least a scholar's degree, clear-headed, and capable of arithmetic. The postmaster didn't have much authority, mainly handling official document deliveries, daily purchases, repairs, and worker scheduling. The real business was handled by the manager, Zhao De.

But since Meng Wan had come, the postmaster should have come out to see him too.

At the mention of the postmaster, Zhao De looked worried: "Yesterday afternoon, Postmaster Bao got into an argument with someone at the docks and was taken away by clerks from the Grain Transport Office!"

The pitiful look on his aged face was rather pathetic. Seeing Meng Wan gave him an outlet for his panic and fear, so he poured out the whole story.

The Yangzhou station hadn't been open long. After the Zhu family's troubles, Third Uncle Zhu pulled out of the station business, and this Shijian Station was opened by Yu Yandong and Na Tuo. Neither of them had Third Uncle Zhu's tact or knack for reading people.

They hired a manager from a local teahouse, a man named Zhao De.

Zhao De was old, and the teahouse owner didn't need him anymore, so he was let go. He happened to meet Yu Yandong, who saw he was honest and experienced as a manager, so Yu Yandong quickly hired him.

Meng Wan sighed. Water that's too clear has no fish. Among his many managers, not all were above a little greed. Even the most polished ledgers could hide some tricks. But as long as it stayed within his tolerance, the station turned a reasonable profit, and the rules were followed, then being able to skim a little was their own doing.

Being honest and experienced didn't necessarily mean someone was cut out to be a station manager.

Zhao De knew little about water transport and was a born-and-bred Yangzhou local. He knew the prefect was stingy, and that the inspectors under him demanded "gratitude money" when checking merchant goods.

Since no other station had this expense, Zhao De didn't dare report it. He quietly took it out of the station's operating funds.

After a while, people from the Grain Transport Office came looking for him, saying merchant goods also required a "customary fee" to the Grain Transport Office, which they collected to pay tribute to their superiors. This was the real deal—anyone shipping goods by water had to pay it.

Zhao De genuinely hadn't known. After paying and getting his goods back, he specifically asked other merchant ships at Qingzhang Dock. When he heard it was true, he gritted his teeth and accepted it.

What he didn't know was that the low-level officials at Yangzhou Dock deliberately extorted merchants, but they picked their targets. Those with connections didn't give them the time of day, and they didn't dare cross them. Those without connections or backing went straight to the escort officers of the Grain Transport Office, greased their palms, and once the higher-ups gave the word, the underlings naturally didn't dare make trouble.

But Zhao De was too honest and didn't understand how things worked. He was manipulated by people who weren't even proper clerks, who demanded tribute again and again. At first it was small amounts, but it became routine, and most of the monthly operating funds went to plugging these holes.

The station had just opened, and goods from Lingnan were scarce in the first half of the year. Now they were really losing money. Zhao De was worried sick but didn't dare make a fuss. At his age, if he lost this job, no one would hire him, and he'd have to go back to farming.

It wasn't until the court-assigned postmaster Bao He'er arrived two months ago that things eased up a bit.

Zhao De's voice trembled with anxiety: "Postmaster Bao is a scholar, a straight shooter. Yesterday at the docks, he argued with a few clerks from the Grain Transport Office. Those clerks, ganging up on him, insisted Postmaster Bao was obstructing official business, said they'd take him to learn proper manners, and bound him and dragged him off. We haven't heard a word since."

"They dragged him off?"

Hearing this, Meng Wan picked up the ledger from the table and glanced at it, then suddenly asked, "Manager Zhao, after you were hired at the station, did you never learn who I am?"

Zhao De did know a little. He couldn't tell if Meng Wan was pleased or angry, but he knew hearing such dirty business wouldn't put him in a good mood. He said nervously: "Young Master Yu said you, Master Meng, are a wealthy merchant from Lingnan, and that someone in your family is an official."

Yu Yandong had good intentions. The people of Yangzhou were sharp, and it was far from Lingnan, so he couldn't come to inspect regularly. He feared that if Zhao De knew Song Tingzhou's official rank, he might cause trouble, so he gave a vague story.

The atmosphere in the hall was heavy. The laborers below didn't even dare breathe loudly, standing with heads bowed, afraid Meng Wan would blow up at any moment.

But Meng Wan was silent for a moment, then suddenly let out a low laugh—but it sounded cold.

He closed the thin ledger and tossed it onto the table with a sharp snap, making everyone below jump.

"All of you, come with me to the docks. I want to see who dares to hold someone from my Shijian Station."

Yangzhou in April is often overcast and rainy, and today was no exception. The sky above Qingzhang Wharf was a heavy, dreary expanse of gray.

The river breeze hit their faces, laden with water vapor and a cold, briny dampness. Meng Wan walked at the front, with Chi Yu following closely behind. Zhao De and a few of the bolder couriers trailed along step for step with nervous deference, hunching their shoulders as if afraid the heavy clouds might crush them.

The wharf was bustling with activity—porters trotted across gangplanks with heavy sacks slung over their shoulders, while several black-clad petty officials with flat caps swaggered through the crowd, shouting and bellowing at people.

Whenever a cargo ship docked, they descended like dogs scenting raw meat, their eyes gleaming as they swarmed over. Regardless of what the cargo was, they'd first plant their hands on their hips and grill the crew for a good while, now and then knocking on the crates, the greed in their eyes practically spilling over.

Zhao De spotted them from a distance and felt a reflexive twinge of fear. He lowered his voice to Meng Wan, "Master, it's them. The one in the lead with the triangular, shifty eyes—he's the one who clashed with Postmaster Bao yesterday and had him hauled off."

"Chi Yu." Meng Wan's voice was flat and unreadable.

"Here." Chi Yu stepped forward.

"Go and 'invite' that petty official over." Meng Wan's tone gave no hint of anger or pleasure, but the way he said "invite" had a sinister edge.

Chi Yu acknowledged with a grunt and marched over with rapid, purposeful strides. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and though he was a young man, years of martial training gave him an imposing, almost intimidating presence.

The shifty-eyed petty official was counting his silver with smug satisfaction when he suddenly saw a dark, forbidding figure approaching. Instinctively, he barked, "What blind fool is this? Get lost! Interfere with my business and I'll have your hide!"

Chi Yu ignored him completely. He walked straight up, seized his collar, and lifted him up like a plucked chicken.

The shifty-eyed official had never encountered a young man with such god-given strength. Startled half to death, he stammered, "What are you doing, young man? Let's talk this out—has some fool offended you?"

These petty officials had no official rank—they were just local thugs recruited into the fold, having landed their cushy positions by currying favor with the escort officers above them. They were used to throwing their weight around under the banner of the government offices, bullying merchants and common folk alike, and they specialized in cowing the weak while kowtowing to the strong.

Chi Yu paid no heed to his blustering. He simply dumped the man at Meng Wan's feet. "Our master wants to ask you something."

The shifty-eyed official stumbled and nearly fell, and only then did his gang of underlings catch up.

"We're from the Cao Yun Office! How dare you!"

"Brother Hu, are you alright?"

"Are these people looking for trouble?"

Ignoring their clamor, Meng Wan fixed his gaze on them, his eyes clear and piercing, as if he could see straight through their thoughts.

He spoke coldly, "So you're the ones who took our people from Shijian Station yesterday?"

The shifty-eyed man's heart skipped a beat—he knew the people backing the station had come calling. Though he wondered why they'd sent a young man, the fellow clearly wasn't someone to be trifled with. He forced himself to stay calm. "Shijian Station? Ah, I believe one of your postmasters was invited to the office by our superior to discuss some matter."

As he spoke, he subtly signaled his underlings to back off, hoping to brush the whole thing aside.

"Ha." Meng Wan let out a derisive snort. Calling an abduction an "invitation"—this petty official sure could spin a yarn out of thin air.

"I wonder which official from the Cao Yun Office did the inviting. I happen to know Governor Sun of the Cao Yun Office. Perhaps I should pay him a visit myself and ask what reason there is for keeping our postmaster detained."

The shifty-eyed man's eyelid twitched at the mention of Governor Sun. He thought to himself, "Damn," realizing that while the station's manager was just a groveling old man, there was apparently real backing behind him.

The flesh on his face quivered, and his tone softened immediately. "Misunderstanding—it's all a misunderstanding..."

"How dare you cause a disturbance on the wharf! Do you have no respect for the laws of Yangzhou Prefecture?"

Before the shifty-eyed official from the Cao Yun Office could finish his explanation, a flurry of hurried footsteps sounded from the other side of the wharf. A patrol inspector in the green robes of the prefectural office, his face thick with a bushy beard, led a group of some twenty archers and constables as they surrounded the area.