The Qingxia Gate breach collapsed again. Jiao Si of the Dingding Camp called a hundred names to fill the breach. Xie Yun was called last, but in front of more than two hundred people, he pointed out that last month Jiao Si had taken thirty shi of government salt from the rear storehouse at the Salt Depot. The ledger said "losses," but he'd sold it to the Bai family at the Horse Market for sixty taels. The fresh ink on that one stroke was half a shade thicker than the old ink, and the account still had to show fifteen shi against the seasonal reporting limit of twenty. Zhao Dayan rested his hand on his knife. Xie Yun didn't flinch. He only asked who the report was for. In exchange for saying, "I didn't say anything today," he got Jiao Si to cross out the names of three expendable men: Shao Shi, with his bad leg; Old Zhou, with dysentery; and Xiao Liu, coughing blood. After crossing them off, Jiao Si moved Xie Yun's name from the bottom of the list to the top. The first man down would be packed in most tightly. After the gathering, Xie Yun asked Meng San how many carts it took to move those thirty shi. Meng San answered, "Three," then immediately regretted it. At noon, the list was posted at the camp gate, and Xie Yun rolled an abacus bead in his sleeve. But how would he repay the old debt over Shao Shi's half-sack of salt?
