Lena Sanders held Paul Denton's name card—no larger than two palms yet impressively solid—and after turning it over once or twice, decided to march straight to the government office with it.
To her surprise, Paul Denton's card proved remarkably effective.
The clerks at the yamen didn't even ask her to return home for the land deed. While one checked the tax records, another briskly registered Lena Sanders as the head of a household—with three dependents besides—and issued her a household certificate on the spot.
With the certificate in hand, Lena didn't linger. She went directly back to Fried Rice Alley.
Harris Ma and Jack Golden had already returned. The moment they saw Lena step through the door, they hurried forward to report their findings, but she raised a hand to silence them.
She handed the household certificate to Darren Chang and instructed, "Take this to the village registrar. Have him record it, and tell him this—if he dares spread another word about me and that so-called 'Peach Blossom Shrine,' I'll see to it that his sons and grandsons are sold to the boys' brothels myself!"
"Understood," Darren Chang replied curtly, gripping the certificate as he strode out.
Harris Ma and Jack Golden watched the document pass from Lena's hand to Darren's, eyes wide with admiration.
"Boss, that's amazing! You got that household certificate—just like that! A breeze!" Harris Ma exclaimed, raising his thumb high.
"It's without breaking a sweat," Jack Golden corrected, rushing ahead of Lena to dust off a chair for her. Bowing and grinning, he said, "Boss, you must be tired. Please, sit down."
"No need to flatter me, Jack Golden. Harris Ma—talk." Lena sat and gestured for him to begin.
"My cousin runs a property firm in our ward, so I went to ask him. Easy enough—everyone knows about this. Turns out, the registrar can't really say who's in charge. If the yamen wants to collect lantern taxes or check on the 'Sixty Elders,' they go to the registrar. If the Ministry of Justice or the High Court wants to look into a criminal, they go to the registrar. And the Street Office—when it needs men to clean the streets—also finds the registrar. Seems everyone has a claim."
"But our registrar, Zhang, he's got connections. He's married into power—his wife's brother is an overseer at the Street Office."
"The Street Office?" Lena raised an eyebrow. "You mean, it actually manages the streets?"
"Exactly! Nowhere else under heaven has such an office—only in Castleton! The Street Office truly handles street affairs: if a road isn't swept clean, if rainwater pools, if a merchant's stall blocks the way—they take care of it!" Harris Ma explained, puffing up proudly as he spoke.
At the mention of "our Castleton," Lena almost laughed, but restrained herself and motioned for him to continue.
"Every merchant in town deals with them—no exceptions. So they know everything. Word is, the Second Prince—oh, Boss, you've heard of him, right? His Majesty has only two sons: the eldest is crippled, and the second—well, he's the future emperor!"
Harris Ma's excitement about the prince was cut short by Lena's sharp tone. "Stay on topic."
"Yes. Right. So, the Street Office was founded under the Second Prince's authority, attached to the Jianle Prefecture. But it's not inside the yamen—it's equal in rank. Officially, the prince is its head, but he's got far greater matters to attend to. So, it's actually managed by Lord Shen of the Yongping Marquisate—though he too has larger concerns. The real control lies in the hands of Steward Zhou, also of the Yongping Marquisate.
"Steward Zhou appointed ten deputy overseers, each commanding fifty men. Zhang the registrar's brother-in-law, Steward Fan, is one of those ten.
"In short, the entire Street Office is run by the Yongping Marquis's household."
Harris clicked his tongue in awe.
"Boss, that office must be filthy rich! My cousin says every merchant has to pay a 'cleaning fee' each month. But they still have to sweep their own storefronts—and if the Street Office thinks it's not clean enough, they get fined! Just like our night-soil business—profit on both ends! Boss, all that silver—it must go straight into the Marquis's coffers! Imagine how rich they are—gold mountains and silver seas!"
Lena's face darkened.
Jack Golden nudged Harris, who immediately caught on, glancing at Lena's expression. He exchanged a nervous look with Jack and held his tongue.
Lena sat in silence for a long moment before Darren Chang returned.
"It's all registered," he reported. "I told Registrar Zhang what you said. I wasn't even out of his courtyard before he started cursing a blue streak."
After stowing the certificate safely inside, Darren took the seat Lena pointed to.
"Harris, explain the Street Office to him," Lena sighed.
Harris summarized briefly, and when he finished, Darren turned to Lena with concern.
"There's no honest trade left in Castleton," Lena muttered, sighing again.
"Not even the night-soil business?" Harris asked, eyes wide.
"Remember Riverford City?" Darren said in a low voice. "A few drops spilled from our cart at the city gate—and our brothers were beaten half to death by the guards."
"Then what do we do now?" Jack Golden groaned.
"We can't go back to Riverford City—we're wanted by the Southland authorities," Harris added bitterly. "Once beggars, now fugitives—what a fine promotion."
"Jack Golden, go find Master Wen. Ask when he'll be free—I have a few matters to consult him on. And find out what kind of wine he likes." Lena paused before giving the order.
"Got it!" Jack jumped to his feet. His earlier despair lifted—if business couldn't be done in the city, surely their boss would find a way outside the walls.
"Harris, go buy some sugar-roasted chestnuts. The season's almost over, and we haven't had any this year."
"The best ones are from the Niu family stall—it's a bit of a walk, but don't worry, Boss, I'll be quick!" Harris said cheerfully as he bounded down the steps and broke into a trot.
"I'll soak the glutinous rice and prepare the cakes," Darren added, heading toward the kitchen. "We'll fry rice cakes tonight."