Dàilán walked briskly down the open-air walkway leading to the Clan Mansion from the separate House Residences, her hair done in the simple style normally used by young men, wearing sensible working robes and holding a satchel of scrolls. The morning air carried the faint scent of damp wood and distant incense drifting from the ancestral hall, and the soft tap of her cloth shoes echoed faintly along the polished boards.
An older male servant with greying hair was cleaning the lacquered carvings of the walkway's carved wooden screens, the faint sharp scent of oil and fresh polish lingering in the air. The sheen of the finish had been carefully renewed despite the age in the wood; the grain beneath showed the pale threads of old repairs done long ago. He paused and stepped to one side as she passed, bowing with a murmured, "Heir."
As she had for all the other polite greetings she encountered on her way, the young girl inclined her head in response and continued on until she stepped fully into the light of the Golden Crow shining from overhead.
A number of older male servants—like the one cleaning the screens—were crossing the courtyard. Its stones were worn smooth along the centre path from generations of feet, cool beneath the light of the Golden Crow yet already warming at the edges.
The muted scrape of sandals, the faint creak of carrying poles, and the rustle of paper within scroll tubes formed part of the compound's quiet order. Each one stopped to bow and greet her in the same manner as the first until she had passed by.
Inclining her head to each in turn, she reached the front portico of her Father's quarters, greeting the stout, balding older man who stood to the right side of the entrance.
"Greetings, Majordomo." She bowed her head politely. "Third Heir requests an audience with Third Elder."
"He is waiting for you in the study, Heir," the older man intoned gravely, although she saw the flicker of good humour in his eyes as he bowed in return. "I will escort you."
Dàilán bowed her acceptance and followed a pace behind the older man as he led the way into the main Mansion.
---
The corridors were broad enough for servants to pass one another without brushing sleeves, but they spoke of long use rather than grandeur. The air within was cooler, shaded from the Golden Crow, and carried the faint lingering scent of incense smoke absorbed into old timber. Footsteps sounded softer here, muted by worn floor runners. The timber beams were dark with age and careful oiling, their joinery tight where old repairs had been done properly instead of hidden, patches visible if one looked closely.
Along the walls hung silk portraits of ancestors and notable elders — some newly mounted, others patched at the edges where silk had frayed with time, their colours softened by lamp-smoke and incense rather than deliberate fading. Fine threads caught the light when one passed close enough to see the weave.
Now and then a niche held an object kept more as a reminder than a trophy — an old Formation tool worn smooth by generations of hands, its metal faintly cool even in summer; a relic blade too plain to be ceremonial; a fragment of iron gate-fitting taken from one of the Clan's ancestral mountain posts, its surface dark with age and faintly rough where the iron had been worn and pitted.
The most common recurring decoration, however, was carved directly into beam and lintel: the Clan symbol — a narrow mountain pass framed by steep stone walls, heavy gates sealed across its throat. The faint Formation lines etched into the surrounding wood caught the light differently from the grain, subtle but precise, giving the unsettling impression that the carved gates might close tighter if stirred.
Passing through the intersection that led to the different wings of the Mansion, they turned towards the rightmost corridor leading to the Third Family's wing when two richly robed young men appeared — one from each of the corridors leading to the First and Second Family wings.
The Majordomo stopped short and, standing as close as she was, Dàilán saw a rare flicker of displeasure pass over his face before it settled into a polite mask.
"First Heir… Second Heir…" The Majordomo bowed politely to the two older teens. "May I assist you?"
The First Heir wore a condescending expression, an unpleasant look on his sallow face. "We are surprised we did not merit your personal escort and wished to greet our… fellow Heir… as we so rarely have occasion to speak."
As Third Heir, Dàilán stepped forward smoothly.
"Third Heir accepts First and Second Heirs' most gracious greetings. Please accept my apologies — I am due to meet with Third Elder momentarily."
Second Heir, who was noticeably overweight, laughed in a high pitch. He rubbed his soft hands together with an oily smile.
"Yes, Third Heir, we all endure the week's tiresome reports." He leaned slightly forward. "We should really find some time to discuss… Heir business. First and I meet together often — the service at the Falling Plum Blossom is quite suitable."
Dàilán heard the Majordomo's robes rustle sharply as he stiffened behind her.
She forestalled his reaction with a bright, hearty laugh.
"How fortunate First and Second Heirs must be to enjoy such leisure! I am afraid Third Elder is quite strict with my responsibilities as Heir — I rarely have time to go visiting. Perhaps I could ask Third Elder if I may be granted a similar amount of leisure time to yourselves? Then we could all go together."
The chubby Second Heir paled slightly. "Ah, no… that is…"
First Heir stepped smoothly forward. "What Second Heir means to say is that we are, of course, also quite busy with our own duties. I am quite surprised that Third Elder also makes his… Heir…" He made a show of looking her up and down, a slight sneer curling his lip. "…work so hard."
"Of course," Dàilán replied evenly, inclining her head once more. "It is what a real Heir should do, after all. Cousins, this Heir must not be late. Please excuse me."
While the other two silkpants were left pale-faced in anger at her last pointed comment, she moved swiftly towards the Third House corridor.
A muffled shout was cut off behind them as she and the Majordomo entered the corridor. Undoubtedly one of the two young men had restrained the other from shouting at her and drawing attention to their less-than-proper behaviour.
"Young… Master, that was well done," the Majordomo murmured once they were clear. "Those two are in need of instruction in the behaviour befitting an Heir. I will speak to the Clan Leader regarding their conduct."
"Thank you, Senior. Words matter little beside conduct; their insinuations are nothing when set against their silkpants behaviour." Dàilán responded decisively.
The older man chuckled. "Third Heir has wisdom."
Stopping at the door to the antechamber before her Father's study, Dàilán turned and bowed. "Thank you for your escort."
"It was my pleasure." He bowed in return, opened the door, and guided her to a seat. "Please wait here one moment while I announce you, Third Heir."
The Majordomo bustled off quickly into the connecting room as she settled her satchel beside her. By the time a fēn had passed without his return, Dàilán's eyebrows rose, then drew into a faint crease. Was there a problem?
Her concerns were interrupted by the reappearance of the Majordomo bowing at the door.
"Forgive the delay, Third Heir. Third Elder awaits your arrival."
Dàilán rose to her feet, picked up the satchel again, and inclined her head. "Thank you."
The Golden Crow's light streamed through the large open windows of the study as she stepped inside and turned towards the right, where her father sat behind the wide desk that spanned the wall — the light casting long shadows across the surface, scarred with old ink stains despite being kept meticulously clean. The faint scent of ink and drying paper hung in the air, mingling with the drier smell of stacked bamboo scrolls. A sheet rasped softly as her father shifted a document.
She heard the door shut softly behind her as she took the required two steps forward and went to one knee.
"Third Heir greets Third Elder."
"Rise." Her father's voice was impassive. "I understand there was an issue on the way?"
"Heir regrets to report there was a minor difference of opinion between the Heirs," Dàilán answered calmly. "They expressed concerns regarding my suitability for the position. I expressed doubts regarding their apparent lack of attention to the duties of an Heir."
A small chuckle escaped the Third Elder. "I find I cannot fault the observation. However, I will undoubtedly have to deal with complaints from the First and Second Elders. Perhaps you might have exercised a little more restraint?"
Dàilán suppressed a grin. "Reporting: Second Heir inquired whether I had time to join them at the Falling Plum Blossom pleasure house. I informed them that, to my great regret, my duties did not leave me such leisure — apparently unlike their own."
There was a moment of startled silence.
Then a bark of laughter.
"That was well done, Third Heir. A point I shall raise when I receive the inevitable complaints. I suspect they will be considerably less free in the future."
Dàilán inclined her head as the Third Elder — her father — tapped on the desk.
"Enough of that foolishness. Bring the weekly reports, Third Heir."
He pointed to another stack.
"These are the figures and tasks I need you to follow up on for next week. Preliminary appraisal should be complete in the next shí while I evaluate your reports for the past week. As always, you may ask questions while you are here."
The young Heir nodded as she scooped the new documents into her satchel. "As always — I am available for any clarifications on the reports, Third Elder." She bowed and took five steps back, then turned and headed for the matching desk on the other side of the study that was once her Mother's.
---
"Third Elder? I have a question about this purchase made two days ago — here — purchase of Essence Fertiliser for the northwest fields." Dàilán indicated the relevant figure.
"Hmmm, what?" The Third Elder looked up from the report he was studying at the question absent-mindedly. "Yes, Second Elder reported he had gotten an excellent deal on that — a thirty percent reduction compared to the costings from the regular suppliers. It should increase our Essence crop production yield by at least fifteen percent according to the Matriarch."
Dàilán rolled her eyes. "Heir begs leave to remind Third Elder that the northwest fields are only thirty mu in area. Two thousand catties would cover that area to a depth of about an arm span of fertiliser. Considering any reasonable quality of Essence Fertiliser requires only a handful per square arm span — it seems excessive."
Her father's eyes widened. "Two thousand… wait, what? Bring that here…" The young teen trotted over and pointed out the relevant information. The paper rasped softly beneath her fingers as she handed it over; the brush strokes were slightly raised where the ink had pooled.
"Ancestors…" He stared at the figures, then exhaled sharply. "How did I miss that? I forgot about the size of the fields. Someone is inflating the purchase amount to make it look like they made a deal, when in fact they have been allocated a budget they cannot possibly need. I am sure it was twenty catties when I looked."
Dàilán nodded, and pointed out the purchase order that had been signed off — then pointed out a matching line in the accounts. "It is twenty catties purchased from the merchant, but the request to the Treasury is for two thousand. Someone added a couple of extra zeroes to the end of the approved order when submitting for reimbursement."
"More of Second Elder's games," sighed the Third Elder. "Certainly he will apologise for the simple error and return the money when it is pointed out, but the question is how many times he has succeeded in similar schemes."
"Too many," grumbled the Heir. "Third House is responsible for Clan Finance. Why was Second House put in charge of the Treasury?"
Third Elder frowned. "It was thought a good idea to separate those responsible for internal production and income from those trading and disbursing it. Which makes little sense in matters of account-keeping, but it does in terms of preventing any one House from growing too powerful."
The Third Elder pointed into the air. "In theory, since Third House accounts are always checking the expenses and earnings from the Treasury based on their production and requests — and the Treasury is always keeping tabs on the Clan's production — no one can theoretically get away with hoarding cultivation resources or embezzling coin."
"Just like First House manages our Defence and Discipline Halls to keep the other two Houses from getting too powerful; and either House can withhold resources or coin to keep First from simply using force, because they need both money and resources to maintain said force. I know," replied Dàilán, "but it is not working. First House is not doing their duty and Second keeps sneaking money out from under our noses."
"Speaking of which, you mention in these reports that you believe that the Clan is overpaying for new seed and plant stock for the fields? And there is a note," the Elder stabbed a thick finger at a report, "here about undercharging for our Formation commissions and our trade in Essence plants and herbs?"
Dàilán looked away in embarrassment; there had been some theories and thoughts that she had been considering after recent experiences and idly jotted down, which she had not meant to include in the final copy of the reports.
She looked back at the Elder, tapping her ear with a finger and then under one eye. "Formations?"
The Elder pressed a palm against the desk, the wood creaking faintly under the weight. The air in the study seemed suddenly heavier. The quiet was broken only by the faint flutter of a page in the open window's breeze as her father nodded.
"Yes, the Security Formations are active — as they always are when we examine these reports. But I assure you, Heir," he said dryly, "you now have my complete and total attention for asking me to double-check."
Dàilán blew out a breath. "I was tired when I finalised the reports — the past week has been strenuous; those observations were not meant to be in there yet. Nonetheless…"
The Elder raised an eyebrow in invitation to continue. Dàilán straightened up and spoke evenly. "I noticed a pattern — very subtle — where all our payments for new stock for the Essence fields are generally more expensive than they should be."
The Elder raised the other eyebrow. "There has been very little fluctuation in the price for new seedlings and stock for the Essence fields for years. For that matter, very little change in the prices charged for our Formation-laying services either."
The Heir shrugged. "It may be nothing. However, I was in the market earlier in the week, and the price an independent peddler quoted on his herbs was noticeably less than what we have been paying for stock of similar rank."
Dàilán carefully left out that the herbs in question had been of a quality the Clan had almost never been able to purchase — and if her cousins had been correct, their true rank was above almost anything the Clan had ever been able to obtain. "And if anything, an independent should charge more per item, as they cannot purchase or sell in bulk."
The Third Elder frowned. "Hardly conclusive. The peddler may not have known the value of what he was selling, for one."
Dàilán sighed. "That is why I was not planning to put this in the report yet. I was going to check some of the regular suppliers later this week and see if their prices were similar. But Heir Ji paid for the herbs on my behalf, and he did not seem to consider the price as anything unusual. If anyone would notice unusual pricing, it is the Heir of a successful merchant Clan."
Third Elder blinked. "Heir Ji…? Why?"
Dàilán smiled. "He wanted me to get a message to Second Heiress."
Her father scratched his head. "All right — not relevant to the present discussion. I do not quite follow your concern."
"If we had been paying above the usual market price, the merchants would notice," Dàilán said carefully. "The market would have adjusted to match demand, correct? But if the prices have not actually risen…"
"Then we are not paying higher prices into the market. So…" The Third Elder completed the thought slowly. "Where is the money we have been spending on those products actually going? Are you sure about this?"
"No," admitted the Third Heir. "I have not been able to confirm the theory yet. I need to make some trips out to the market — possibly consult with Heir Ji."
"Attend to this before all else," ordered Third Elder. "Investigate and confirm your concerns. And how does this relate to our income from selling Essence herbs or laying out Formations?"
The Heir bit her lip in distress. "Again, this is just my theory, but… the income on our products is lower overall than what we are paying for new plants and stock. Yes, fresh and wild stock is always more expensive, but not by that much."
Dàilán rubbed her forehead. "Clan Guan has always been famous for its Formation Masters — By the Golden Crow, First Heiress is Earth, Second Rank now. I am sure she is on the roster for Formation installation — but I do not see her fees anywhere on the rolls. If we were charging less than the usual price for our services, or had a new Master then we would be swamped with orders and everyone would know about it."
"But I have heard of neither. As far as I know, we are charging the usual price. Yet someone is reporting a much lower overall income. Again it is subtle — sometimes as little as a single stone off the sold price of an herb, or ten off the sale of a Formation install — but it adds up. If we are actually charging the missing stones, and not giving everyone consistent concessions, then those extra stones are going somewhere."
"Your cousin's skills are probably being concealed," pointed out the Third Elder. "As to the rest, I will have to check with the Matriarch — as the Clan's only Sky-level Formation Master — she is in charge of the Formation Masters. She will know what we are charging customers." He rose from the desk. "Given the severity of these concerns, I will seek an audience with her immediately. We will have to cut this session short."
Dàilán bowed. "Yes, Third Elder. I will find out the details regarding the market pricing on herbs as soon as possible."
Her father nodded. "I find it remarkable this has not been noticed previously. Excellent work."
Dàilán shrugged. "You said it yourself — our internal prices have not changed in years. Maybe whoever is doing this simply did not reflect any increases in the selling price of our products, and so slowly was able to pocket the difference."
Her smile turned mischievous. "Unless a young person who did not know better went to buy things outside the Clan for amusement, and knew the price our Clan usually sold or bought things for, and noticed the discrepancy… how many people in the Clan bother to purchase things out of their own pocket instead of drawing on Clan stores? How many know how much the Clan spends?"
"By the Golden Crow… it seems I must ask First Elder for permission to examine the Clan Defence expenses too," grumbled Third Elder. "This meeting is adjourned, Daughter. You have done well."
"Thank you, Father," she replied, bowing.
When she straightened, she had already loosened the tie at her nape; her hair fell once again into its regular feminine arrangement.
"See you at dinner tonight?" she asked lightly.
"Unless this proves… complicated, yes. Do you want the Majordomo to escort you?"
"Please. I have no wish to be dragged off to the pleasure house by my fellow Heirs."
Her father laughed. "If you were male, you might have had a different reaction to that offer."
Dàilán snorted softly. "The Falling Plum has male hosts as well, you know. The suggestion is not inherently improper. It is simply that, male or not, I would never be foolish enough to go anywhere with those two."
The servant call chimed softly as the privacy Formations disengaged — a faint tremor in the air like the release of a held breath.
The door swung inward on quiet wooden pivots, and Dàilán swept out, the hem of her robe brushing the threshold — leaving her father staring at her in stunned silence behind his desk, the light of the Golden Crow glinting off the scattered papers between his hands.