In the account office in the west wing of the Prince's Palace, the beads on a rosewood abacus clattered against Chuntao's fingertips, the sound filtering through the carved wooden window lattice and startling the sparrows from the crabapple tree outside. A stack of account books, half a person's height, sat on the sandalwood desk. The topmost cover, inscribed in gold dust, read "Record of Income and Expenditure of Croton Farm." Its edges had been ripped, revealing the yellowed rice paper underneath. Every page was densely packed with entries like "Purchase of ten pounds of croton powder, three trials of croton cakes, and food expenses for hired laborers in the croton farm." Chen Weiwan, clutching a wolf-hair brush, rubbed her temple over the newly added entry "Three rabbits (for laxative experiments)." Her ink-soaked fingertips brushed against her brow, blurring a crooked cinnabar mole.
"Miss," Chuntao's voice was filled with tears, and the abacus beads clattered across half the table. "This month, the croton fields have lost a net of three hundred taels! Yesterday, the warehouse reported a loss. Five bags of newly harvested croton powder are missing, enough to pickle all the sour beans in the capital!"
Chen Weiwan flipped through the account book with a crumpled slip of paper between them, a purchase order from three days ago. The crooked handwriting, etched with the impression of a mat, read: "Purchase ten cartloads of croton seeds, pay Scholar Wang five taels as a fee, and buy three rabbits (for a laxative experiment)." She slammed her hand on the table, the ink staining the rice paper like an ugly flower. "Ever since those two little grandpas figured out the fetching value of croton seeds, the palace has stockpiled enough croton powder to last the entire capital until the end of their lives! The other day, I went to the warehouse, and even the tribute-grade croton seeds for the Empress Dowager were laced with frosting!"
The carved wooden door slammed against the blue brick wall, and Kenkeng and Wawa rushed in like two tiny cannonballs wrapped in brocade. Wawa's tiger-head shoes, still stained with croton vines from the backyard's muddy patch, left a series of crooked footprints on the golden brick floor. Kenkeng held up the oilcloth bag—the word "Keng" embroidered crookedly in red thread, with a piece of grass hanging from the thread end—and triumphantly dumped it onto the table. Twenty or so round brown pills rolled out, two of which rolled precisely into Shen Weiwan's purple Duan inkstone, splashing ink onto the "Croton Field Loss Report," obscuring the glaring "three hundred taels."
"Mom! We're making money!" Kenkeng's chubby little hands rummaged through the pile of pills, his ink-stained front teeth gleaming in the sunlight. "Look! 'Kengkeng Brand Tongchang Pills'!"
Wa Wa puffed out her little chest and pulled out an oil-paper bag from her sleeve pocket. On it was a little man drawn in red pen, clutching his stomach and running frantically. The hem of her skirt was still stained with croton powder. "And there's 'Wawa Brand Rapid Laxative'! Mr. Wang said it's a life-saving elixir for when you're about to poop!"
Shen Weiwan picked up a pill, her nose tinged with the strong, spicy aroma of croton seeds, mingled with the sweet fragrance of acacia honey—a scent she knew all too well. Last year, Xiao Yu had fallen for his opponent's laxative trap, relying on this very recipe to stay in the toilet for three days. She suddenly remembered the thousand-year-old ginseng missing from the warehouse: "Where did the herbs come from? I checked the warehouse the day before yesterday, and half a ginseng and deer antler were missing!"
"I took it from Dad's private vault!" He stuffed the pill into his mouth as if it was a matter of course, but Shen Weiwan quickly knocked it away. "Dad said we can use it as we please, and he also praised us for being better at managing money than him! He even helped us sift croton powder yesterday!"
Chen Weiwan looked up suddenly, confronting Xiao Yu, who was leaning against the doorframe. He was dressed in moon-white casual clothes, and the mutton-fat jade pendant hanging from his waist had been replaced with a "Wealth and Treasure" carved from croton powder. He was laughing so hard that his shoulders were shaking, and his front was still stained with fresh croton powder. "Madam, the children are talking about becoming 'hu merchants in the laxative industry,' and I think they have a promising future."
"A promising future?" Chen Weiwan slammed the pills on the table, sending dust flying from the account books. "Last month, they sprinkled croton powder as pepper at the Grand Tutor's venison banquet, and now the Imperial Censorate's impeachment memorials could cover the entire palace wall! The other day, the grandson of Lord Zhang ate their 'appetizer beans' and shit his pants three times in the Imperial College!"
"That was an accident!" Wawa hastily explained, her pigtails swung like rattles, croton leaves still stained in her hair. "This time we asked Wang Xiucai from the west of the city to do the packaging, and he even wrote a poem for it!"
Kenkeng unfolded the oil-paper package like he was presenting a treasure. On it was written in calligraphy: "Kengkeng Brand Tongchang Pills - a boon for those suffering from constipation, a powerful weapon for those who cheat others!" Next to it was an illustration: an official in a black gauze hat was running wildly, holding his butt, and was chased by a little monster holding a "croton" flag. The monster had Kenkeng's signature chubby face painted on his face.
Shen Weiwan looked at the six words "a sharp weapon for those who cheat others" and almost spit out the tea she had just drunk on the account book: "Constipation is constipation, how did it become a sharp weapon for cheating others?"
"Just think about it, Mom," Kengkeng bent his chubby little fingers, a croton shell still stuck between his nails. "Last time, when Second Brother Zhang stole my candy figurine, I put half a croton seed in his tea. He peed all over his pants in the lecture hall. Wasn't that more satisfying than beating him? The teacher even praised his round handwriting of the word 'shit'!"
Xiao Yu held the wrapping paper up to the light. The words on it were crooked, as if gnawed by insects. "This slogan is quite straightforward, but these words...did Mr. Wang write this after drinking three pounds of Shaodaozi?"
"No way!" Wa Wa put her hands on her hips, her face flushed red. "Mr. Wang said this is called 'Kuangcao', the same style as Master Zhang Xu! If you don't believe me, ask Sister Chun Tao. He even spat wine on the paper after he finished writing!"
Shen Weiwan looked at the two little brats' sparkling eyes and suddenly remembered her past life in the general's warehouse, where she couldn't even understand the account book. She tapped the account book and circled "Loss of Croton Farm" with ink: "Okay, how are you going to sell it? Let me make it clear first, you are not allowed to mess around with serious people!"
"We're going to take over all the pharmacies in the capital!" He clenched his fists, his chubby face flushed red. A bag of croton powder hung from his waist pouch. "We'll even classify it into different levels! For mild cases, we use 'Tongchang Dan,' for severe cases, we use 'Jisu Xie,' and for the really bad ones, we use the 'Crony Big Gift Pack'—it contains powder, pills, and croton mixed with honey!"
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