The meeting was to be held at an eatery in the village where the headman lived. It wasn't far from the papermaking village — less than an hour on foot. The plain-looking eatery was of decent size. It had originally catered not to locals but to travelers passing along the highway, and it appeared to double as an inn as well.
Their side consisted of Yabu's brother-in-law and his two sons, plus three middle-aged men who lived in the village. With Yabu and Maomao added on, that made eight in all.
The other side had over ten burly men, and sitting smugly among them was a pompous, mustachioed middle-aged fellow, planted firmly in his seat.
The eatery's old proprietor and his wife watched the assembled group with bored, exasperated looks.
They had probably chosen this place because the other side was making outrageous demands and things might well turn into a brawl. What a nuisance.
Yabu was trembling from head to toe. Apart from the proprietress, Maomao was the only woman there, which made her stand out badly.
Unfortunately, none of the men seemed interested in this scrawny girl — they tilted their heads as if to ask "Why is someone like her here?" and sniffed dismissively.
It had taken some effort for her to come along.
Yabu's aunt had tried to stop her. She said that, for all her odd appearance, Maomao was still an unmarried girl, and it would be terrible if something bad were to happen to her. Besides, she stuck out like a sore thumb.
That said, there was Yabu giving Maomao pitiful looks on one hand, and Maomao herself was curious about this contract business on the other.
Reluctantly, she came up with a plausible excuse.
"I have a distant relative who is knowledgeable about such matters. Would it be all right if I asked him about it and passed along what I learned?"
When her aunt heard "such matters," she seemed to wonder if Maomao might know a judicial official, and grudgingly accepted.
Unfortunately, Maomao didn't know any judicial officials. She did know a eunuch who dealt in similar things, but that was a different matter entirely. The "distant relative" she spoke of was a small, sharp man who was an expert at working an abacus. If she consulted him, he would know any number of ways to make money without breaking the law.
And so, Maomao took a seat some distance away and received tea from the proprietress. The place apparently doubled as a tavern, as the smell of alcohol was thick in the air. She was sorely tempted to order some, but held back.
The sake looked like unfiltered rice wine. There was a large vat near the kitchen, and she could see the white liquid inside. In the capital, clear sake and distilled spirits were preferred, so this had all the hallmarks of typical countryside brew.
While Maomao was preoccupied with the sake, the other group had already begun their negotiations. She kept one ear turned their way, just in case.
"Have you got the money ready?"
The one spouting lines like a cut-rate villain in a cheap melodrama was, sure enough, the mustachioed middle-aged man who had been sitting there so imperiously. Surrounding the landlord were a pack of brawny men — tenant farmers, or perhaps hired muscle; it was hard to tell.
The men on their side were decently built too, but in terms of numbers, they were clearly at a disadvantage, Maomao thought.
"We still have some time before the deadline. Could you give us a little more time to think it over?"
The gentleman said this with a solemn expression. Between the landlord and the gentleman lay a single sheet of paper. That must be the contract.
"There's no room for thinking it over. I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, you know. If you can't pay, you'll have to leave."
There was no appealing to him. He must have said the same thing to them many times already, judging by the look of things.
"We'd like to arrange some conveniences for ourselves too, you know. That's why we're suggesting you wait until winter this year. It's just that in the meantime, we'd like you to pass on a bit of your knowledge — that's all."
(What utter nonsense.)
Leave immediately, or leave by the end of the year. Even if a grace period were granted, all it would do was give them time to extract your expertise.
You wouldn't even get to choose your next place of residence. Opt for the latter, and your knowledge would still be siphoned away. They would probably just rip off the "Purveyor to the Imperial Court" sign wholesale and swap out the people behind it.
It was infuriating, but there was no way that kind of thing could actually pass as legitimate.
And most of all, the proof was sitting right there on the table.
Still, it struck her as strange. Rather than go through the trouble of teaching the work to the peasants and then sending them away, wouldn't it make more sense to use the debt as leverage and put them to work however you pleased? Could they really hate outsiders that much?
Maomao trudged along behind the master. Beside her was Yabu, his mustache bristling.
The contract had been written more than ten years ago, yet the paper was still in pristine condition. A cheap sheet would have crumbled to tatters within a few years.
On it were written the terms of repayment within twenty years and the monthly installment amount. At the very end, a kaō — a stylized seal used in place of a signature — was properly stamped.
If they had such a solid document, what right did they have to strut around looking so self-important? She tilted her head in puzzlement, and the son downstairs quietly let her in on the secret.
He must have thought he was whispering to Yabu, but Maomao could hear him just fine.
"He's saying the contract is invalid."
And with that, he claimed the contents had been written by a hired scribe.
"Even though there's a kaō on it?"
"The kaō itself is real, sure."
But the previous landlord, apparently, couldn't read.
"He couldn't read?"
Maomao asked.
Isn't that strange? Maomao cocked her head. A landlord would surely go over his documents from time to time, and besides, he should have received that kind of education.
"He was a son-in-law, you see."
(Ah.) She understood.
If he was an adopted son-in-law, it made sense. He had probably been one of the more hardworking tenant farmers. In that case, he would never have had the chance to study, and even if he'd wanted to pick it up after becoming a son-in-law, it wasn't something you could just learn overnight.
"Before that, it wasn't a hired scribe doing the writing — it was his wife."
The contract in question had apparently been drawn up after she died.
(Well...)
I want to believe the contract is real. They said the hanko seal is authentic, so it's probably true that it was signed in front of the previous landlord.
"There was no scrivener or witness present at the time?"
"Both of them have gone and died, unfortunately."
It was a contract from fifteen years ago, and both parties were apparently quite elderly at the time.
(Truly outrageous.)
While Maomao scratched her head, the landlord presented the tenant farmer with an impossible choice. The surrounding farmers wore grins of malicious amusement, while the paper artisans could only shrink back.
Only the eldest son was biting his lip with a complicated expression.
"If you won't leave immediately, I suppose I have no choice. Starting tomorrow, I'll send one of our young fellows over to help you. He'll teach you the ropes, and you'd better have it all learned by the end of the year."
The paper artisans trembled with fists clenched. The truth was out, but they were still just tools. Of course they'd be of no use.
Only Maomao observed the scene around her with a detached air.
As she'd thought, the sake caught her attention.
She considered having a cup later, but doing so now would show a complete lack of tact.
However, the landlord's side was brimming with that very atmosphere and cheerfully began ordering sake.
"Hey, get some for these guys too."
The farmers who had followed the landlord's lead made a racket, while on this side, it felt like a funeral.
The innkeeper reluctantly brought over a tray with sake and cups.
Maomao sniffed the air delicately.
(Hmm?)
She looked at the contents of the cups the farmers were holding. It wasn't unfiltered sake; it was clear liquor. The landlord himself was drinking a different, amber-colored liquid she recognized as distilled liquor. He seemed quite experienced with alcohol.
Of course the landlord understood—he drank what he liked. But providing even the tenant farmers with fine sake seemed excessively generous. The inn had plenty of the lower-grade unfiltered sake available.
(...)
Maomao, feeling apologetic for troubling the innkeeper who was carrying the sake, raised her hand anyway.
"Yes?"
"One for me as well. That sake, please."
Ch. -1-3 (23)
"Can't be helped, I suppose," said the landlady, bringing over the sake.
"Miss, at a time like this..."
Not only the bandit, but even the papermaker gazed at her with looks of exasperation.
Maomao downed the sake in one gulp.
It had a sweet, pleasant taste. It wasn't as refined as the sake from the capital, but it wasn't bad in its own way. However,
the alcohol content
was heavy compared to the smoothness of the flavor.
If it had tasted terrible, she might have found a reason more quickly.
Maomao licked her lips.
A diner that had to accommodate difficult customers, stacked with copious amounts of unfiltered sake on hand. And yet, the tyrannical landlord served the farmers something entirely different.
*(Oh, I see how it is.)*
Maomao glanced at the bandit, whose jaw had gone slack.
"Excuse me. Is there a sake brewery around here?"
"...No, I don't think there's one in this area."
"I didn't think so."
Maomao's lips curled into a grin. Picking up a filled sake cup, she planted herself before the boisterous group of landlords.
She slammed the cup down on the table and wore a smile that could be mistaken for a bird of prey's.
"What's this, young lady? Going to pour us some drinks, are you?"
The landlord's mocking laugh set off a roar of laughter from the others.
"Y-you! Miss!" The bandit clung to Maomao, trying to usher her away from here quickly. But Maomao ignored him completely, laughing as she addressed the landlord.
"Shall we have a drinking contest?"
With that, she gave her own body a pat.