“My Lord! Good news! Incredible news from the Twenty-County Public Cultivation & Census Bureau!”
Abacus Su burst through the oak double doors of the Northern Prefecture Government Hall so fast that his round spectacles nearly slid off the tip of his nose. In his left hand he clutched his golden abacus, and under his right arm he carried three thick, gold-embossed ledger books.
Sitting behind his wide mahogany desk with a cup of morning tea, Pei Xuan smiled and gestured to a chair. “Catch your breath first, Director Su. Did the morning tax receipts come in, or did Daoist Rotten-Bone break his own cement-mixing record again last night?”
“Actually, Foreman Rotten-Bone did hit fifty-eight thousand tons last night after Old Guo promised him a whole roasted lamb leg,” Abacus Su grinned, catching his breath before slapping the three gold-embossed ledgers down on Pei Xuan’s desk. “But this is a hundred times bigger than cement, My Lord! Five minutes ago, the weekly cultivation exam results came in by telegraph from all twenty county public schools, bathhouses, and military barracks!”
Behind Abacus Su, General Tie Zhan, Old Wei, Boom-Pot Sun, and Hong Ling all walked into the office, their faces glowing with excitement.
