At eight o’clock in the morning inside the newly opened Dry-Well Central Bank on the foot of former Joyous-Gold Mountain, a crisp metallic CLACK-STAMP echoed through the marble hall.
Behind Window Number Four, wearing a bright yellow canvas vest with [DEBTOR #888 — DO NOT TIP] stitched across the chest in red thread, former Sect Master Jin wiped the sweat off his round forehead and pressed a red ink stamp onto a turnip farmer’s paper passbook.
“There you go, Uncle Liu,” Sect Master Jin said, forcing a polite, trembling smile onto his chubby face as he slid five crisp Dry-Well Grain & Qi Notes under the iron bars. “Five hundred pounds of Spirit Rice credit, plus your two-copper interest bonus. Please watch your step on the way out, and remember to rate my service five red flowers on the wooden board by the door!”
Old Farmer Liu tucked the paper bills into his coat, grinned with two missing teeth, and slapped a wooden flower token into Window Four’s bamboo bucket. “Good job, Little Jin! You move those pudgy fingers much faster than you did yesterday. Keep it up and maybe Lord Pei will let you have an extra scoop of pork gravy at lunch!”
