Chapter Five: The Human Heart's Weight
The sixteenth year of the Zhenguan era.
In the backyard of the Dou family in late spring, the crabapple blossoms were in full bloom. Liu Bao'er sat on a stone bench, her fingers flying across the abacus as she checked the new account books she had just received from her grandmother. Sunlight filtered through the blossoms, casting dappled shadows on her focused profile.
Suddenly, a suppressed cry and shouting broke the afternoon's tranquility from the front yard. Her fingers paused, and the crisp clinking of the abacus beads came to an abrupt halt.
Before long, Zhang, the old woman in charge of washing clothes, was dragged by two strong servants to the woodshed in the backyard. The old woman's hair was disheveled, her face was covered in tears, and she kept crying out her innocence: "This old servant didn't steal it! That silver hairpin was a gift from Miss..."
The stewardess, Aunt Zhao, followed behind, her face ashen, and shouted sternly, "A reward? Who can testify? Three silver hairpins were missing from the storeroom, but one was found in your bundle! Caught red-handed, and you still dare to deny it!"
Liu Bao'er recognized Granny Zhang. She was a taciturn old woman who would always secretly put a small handful of freshly picked wild berries or a few gardenias with dew on them in the basket when she brought her the washed clothes. She would leave without saying a word. Liu Bao'er also remembered the silver hairpin that Granny Zhang had mentioned—it was a gift from a married woman from the Dou family who had returned home during the New Year last year and had seen Granny Zhang working hard washing clothes.
The evidence was conclusive, and the culprit was caught red-handed. The logic was clear, and the chain of events was complete. According to the rules of the household, stealing the master's property was punishable by selling it at best, and by handing it over to the authorities at worst.
Liu Bao'er lowered her eyes, her gaze falling on an inconspicuous record in the ledger—two months ago, Aunt Zhao withdrew a sum of money, ostensibly for "purchasing festival gifts," but the amount was 30% more than in previous years. At the time, she didn't pay much attention, assuming it was just price fluctuations.
At this moment, these two seemingly unrelated things collided and sparked a connection in her mind.
She saw the mute old servant standing on the veranda not far away, his back hunched, his cloudy eyes gazing in the direction of the woodshed, his calloused hands gripping the broom tightly, his knuckles white. He didn't join the others in watching the commotion; he simply stood there silently, like a sorrowful stone statue.
"Useless is discarded." This was an ironclad rule she always believed in. Granny Zhang had no direct value to her. Intervening might not only backfire but also offend the head of the household, Aunt Zhao—a losing proposition. Reason told her she should continue to analyze Granny Zhang's plans and remain uninvolved.
But when her gaze swept over the vague account in the ledger again, and she saw the old servant's tightly clenched hands, and thought of the fragrant wild berries and gardenias in the basket... a strange, uncontrollable impulse made her stand up.
She straightened her clothes and slowly walked towards the woodshed.
"Aunt Zhao." Her voice wasn't loud, but it silenced the noisy scene for a moment.
Aunt Zhao turned around, saw that it was her, and forced a smile: "Miss Liu, have I disturbed you? This old scoundrel has dirty hands, and we were just about to deal with him."
Liu Bao'er didn't look at Zhang Pozi, who was slumped on the ground. Her gaze calmly fell on Zhao Da Niang's face: "Just now, when checking the old accounts, I saw that you withdrew a sum of money two months ago to purchase festival gifts. It was five strings of cash more than in previous years. I'm young and don't understand the reason. I was just about to ask you how to make a note of this account so that it will be clear when the final accounts are settled at the end of the year?"
Her tone was humble, as if she were genuinely asking about the accounts. But Aunt Zhao's expression changed instantly; she knew perfectly well where the extra five strings of cash had gone. She stared at Liu Bao'er, trying to discern something from those clear yet unfathomable eyes.
Liu Bao'er looked back calmly, as if it had only been mentioned unintentionally.
After a moment of stalemate, the stern look on Aunt Zhao's face gradually faded, replaced by an embarrassed smile: "Oh dear, look at my memory! I remember now, besides the usual holiday gifts, I also bought some incense, candles, and colorful silks for the old lady to pray for her well-being. I was so busy that I forgot to note it in the accounts. Thank you for reminding me, young lady."
She turned to the servant and waved, her tone softening considerably: "Lock Granny Zhang in the woodshed first, and we'll interrogate her later! Perhaps... perhaps there's some mistake somewhere."
The crowd dispersed, whispering amongst themselves.
Liu Bao'er said nothing more and turned to leave. From beginning to end, she did not say a word to plead for Granny Zhang, nor did she utter a single word of reproach against Aunt Zhao.
As evening fell, Granny Zhang was released. The charge was dropped. She went to Liu Bao'er's house, kowtowed through the door, said nothing, and silently placed down a basket of freshly picked bamboo shoots, still covered in mud.
At night, Liu Bao'er sat under the lamp, not touching the basket of bamboo shoots. She spread out some paper, but for the first time, she didn't do math calculations. Instead, she picked up her pen and wrote down a few words:
"Handle", "checks and balances", "popularity", "costs", "unexpected returns".
She discovered that some "investments" couldn't be measured in cash. Some "returns" weren't immediately realized. What she gave today was merely a seemingly insignificant "ask for advice," and the only risk she might incur Aunt Zhao's displeasure. But what she gained might not only be Zhang Pozi's future unwavering loyalty, but also an intangible force called "prestige" beginning to quietly grow among some of the servants. Even Aunt Zhao herself would likely have to think twice before acting in the future.
This game, based on human relationships and information, has a complex reward model that far exceeds any mathematical formula she currently possesses.
She blew out the lamp and lay down in the darkness. The moonlight shone brightly outside the window.
It turns out that in this world, besides a rigid abacus, one also needs a soft scale to measure people's hearts.
The difficulty of mastering this scale seems to be no less than mastering the Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art.
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