Transmigrated into a minor official in a county government, with children at home waiting for rice t

Zhang Sanlang went back to his room and thought for a moment. After sorting out his thoughts, he got up and walked to a row of wooden shelves, on which were stacks of records from previous years.

The Household Registration Office was in charge of land taxes and household registration, but not military affairs. However, a copy of the county granary's income and expenditure accounts had to be sent to the Household Registration Office every month for review. This was a rule established by the Household Registration Office reform, and the same applied to the other four offices.

He pulled out this year's summer tax register and turned to the miscellaneous items category.

Gray bottles, 120 in total.

The total amount of kerosene stored in the books is 300 jin.

Three hundred caltrops were placed on the tent.

……

He closed the book, sat behind the desk for a while, and then got up and left the room.

The county granary actually had five granaries.

The Changping granary is a disaster relief reserve, and it is normally sealed off; anyone who opens it without authorization is guilty.

The provincial granary contains the regular grain tax revenue, which is supplied to the prefecture. During this period, it is being transported to the prefecture granary in batches, with Wu Yan leading a team of archers to escort it back and forth.

These two granaries, along with the charcoal yard and hay yard, were actually located outside the county government office.

Inside the county government office were the county granary, the miscellaneous goods granary, and the material granary.

When Zhang Sanlang arrived at the county granary, Yan Shizhong was enjoying the cool air on the porch of a side room next to the granary. Liu Da was squatting at the bottom of the steps, wiping a brass lock with a rag until it gleamed.

Seeing Zhang Sanlang approach, Yan Shizhong put down his teacup and stood up. "Zhang Clerk, what brings you here?"

Zhang Sanlang stopped in front of him, cupped his hands in greeting, and said with a smile, "Yan Yasi, there's something I need to trouble you with."

Yan Shizhong smiled. "What are you saying? Which accounts do you need to check?"

Zhang Sanlang pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve, a smile playing on his lips. "This year we received a few shipments of miscellaneous goods, including a batch of tung oil and lime. I wanted to see how much was still stored in the warehouse."

He handed the paper forward, "This is the amount of the treasury report received by the Household Department. This morning, the Prefect casually asked about the old inventory, and I thought it would be more reassuring to check it in person. Please forgive me, Clerk Yan, I was just promoted to Clerk and dare not make any mistakes."

Yan Shizhong took the paper, glanced at it, and handed it to Liu Da, nodding, "Zhang Yashi's steady and reliable manner is why the magistrate promoted you."

Liu Da stood up, patted the dirt off his knees, and said, "There are some ash bottles and oil stored in the warehouse. If Zhang Yashi wants to see them, I'll go and get them right away."

Zhang Sanlang waved his hand, "Why bother? No need to carry it, I'll just go in and take a look."

Yan Shizhong's brows twitched, then his indifferent smile returned. "The warehouse is filthy, the dust is choking. If Zhang Yashi wants to check the numbers, have Liu Da move them out and count them in the yard."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Sanlang understood something. In the past, he would have let it go.

At this moment, however, no negligence is permissible.

"Go in and take a look. It'll save you the trouble of carrying things back and forth. Don't worry, Brother Yan, it's not that the magistrate sent me to check the accounts. I just want to have a clear understanding of the situation."

Yan Shizhong looked at him carefully for a moment, a smile appearing on his face, and then turned to lead him inside.

Liu Da followed behind, the copper lock in his hand rattling twice.

The three of them walked through the front yard and the middle yard, and arrived at the storage room in the back yard.

Yan Shizhong pushed open the door to the storage room, and a musty smell hit him. Sunlight shone in through the doorway, and he could see dust swirling in the beams of light.

Liu Da went in first and lit the oil lamp in the corner.

The storeroom was filled with wooden shelves and earthenware jars. A row of wooden shelves against the wall held ash bottles, and the earthenware jars were covered in dust. Zhang Sanlang walked over, picked one up, and weighed it in his hand; it was very light. He tapped the jar with his knuckles; the sound was dull.

He turned to look at Yan Shizhong.

Yan Shizhong stood at the doorway, his expression obscured by the light behind him. "These lime bottles are made by storing lime in jars. If left for too long, they'll get damp. The roof of the building leaked last year, and the section against the south wall was completely flooded."

Zhang Sanlang turned the jar upside down and shook it. No powder fell out. He put the jar back and picked up another one, the same amount, the same dull thud.

He checked more than a dozen in a row, and only the few on the top layer near the north wall could still produce lime powder when shaken.

"Of the 120 in the books, how much is actually usable?"

Yan Shizhong thought for a moment, "About thirty."

Liu Da quickly added, "There's still lime in the warehouse. The jars are ready too, we can fill them up right away. Zhang Yashi, this stuff hasn't been used for a long time, and the warehouse is too damp, so it'll just clump together anyway. You see..."

Zhang Sanlang understood, and a smile played on his lips. "It's alright. But since the Magistrate has brought it up, we should pack it up and prepare it in the next few days. That way, if they really do come to investigate someday, there won't be any problems."

Liu Dachao glanced at the door and, seeing Yan Shizhong nod, quickly replied, "Yes, yes. I'll take men to prepare it in the next couple of days. Don't worry, Chief Clerk Zhang, it won't be a problem."

Zhang Sanlang nodded, his brows furrowing slightly.

He knew that Yan Shizhong, who was in charge of the county granary, couldn't possibly have done anything wrong. But he hadn't found any clues in the granary records.

No wonder he was somewhat reluctant when asked to go into the warehouse to check the actual items.

The cost of lime in a clay pot is no more than ten coins.

Because it's worthless, nobody cares.

Oilseeds are issued and stored monthly, and a difference of five or ten pounds on the books is immediately noticeable.

Barbed caltrops are made of iron, and people will buy them as scrap metal, but they are ironware, and each piece is numbered and registered, so they can't be easily traced.

The gray bottle is different.

This item has no serial number, is not recorded in the logbook, and is inventoried every three years. The count is also reported by Yan Shizhong. No county magistrate has ever been so idle as to come and look at this.

The lime clumps up when it gets damp, the jar gets knocked over and breaks—any excuse can balance the books. The warehouse manager only needs to write "losses over the years" on the books, and even a god couldn't tell the truth.

Yan Shizhong wasn't after the gray bottle itself.

He was greedy for the money from the clay used to make the jars, the firewood used to fire them, the labor cost of packing them, and the money from the mules and horses used for transporting them.

Every year, the books would routinely record an expense for "repairing and building city defense equipment and materials," but in reality, not a single jar of it would be replenished. This sum of money was not large, but it was a steady stream of income, flowing in year after year, unnoticed and a hundred times safer than greed for other things.

Liu Dafang's statement, "There is still lime in the warehouse, and the jars are ready to be filled," has already revealed the truth.

There were jars and lime, so why weren't they prepared in advance?

Because if they're tampered with, the signs of the old and new jars will be visible on the books. If they're not, the books will always show 120 jars, and no one will know that these jars have been empty for years.

When the water is clear, there will be no fish, and when the water is clear, there will be no evil.

Zhang Sanlang saw through the trickery involved, but didn't intend to expose it.

He walked to another shelf.

There were several bundles of old hemp rope and a few iron pots piled on the shelf, but no logs.

He looked around. "Where's the log?"

Yan Shizhong chuckled. "The warehouse never stores logs. Those are cut from round logs, and they'll rot if stored in the warehouse for a year or two. It's always been wartime, with logs felled and made on the spot."

"Did Curry prepare any logs?"

"There are a dozen or so old roof beams, salvaged from the demolition of the old county government office, piled up under the porch in the front yard. If you need them, just pull them out and saw them off."