Chapter Four: A Ledger Without Numbers

Jibai took out the ebony chopsticks. The end patterns had differed each night. Under his phone light, silver threads cast tiny digits on the wall. “The menu isn't on paper,” he said. “It's in each night's utensils.” Yanci looked at him. The scrutiny no longer resembled valuation. It was the look one gave an equal across the board. Overlaying three receipts, the chopstick patterns, and the ledger produced three safe-deposit numbers. The last was inside the Orchid Room during Shengchuan Charity Foundation's annual gala in two days. The guest list belonged to Shen Mingshu. “Boqian's daughter,” Jibai said. “And my cousin. Three months ago, she anonymously sent me the first midnight order.” “You don't trust your allies?”