At three quarters past the You hour, the Dreamweaving House was fragrant with the scent of port wine. Pei Hongxiu gazed at the moving trajectory of the abacus beads on the ledger, tapping her ivory comb heavily against the profit figures for the "Silk Road Brocade Box". "Brother Fan, did you really calculate so early that the Persian embassy would trade fine horses for sesame seed cakes?" Her golden hairpin tilted slightly, revealing a hem embroidered with an abacus-bead ghost face beneath her indigo cloak—something Huwa had sewn when she wasn't looking.
Zhang Yifan twirled the Gilded Abacus Beads, the beads bouncing across her ledger to form the character for "horse". "Does Boss Pei not know that the nobles of Samarkand pride themselves on raising horses, yet hold a unique fondness for Chang'an's carbohydrate aroma?" He suddenly leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against the tip of her ear. "Just as I calculated that Boss Pei would surely use this Western Region port wine for today's celebration banquet."
"Rascal!" Pei Hongxiu flicked her sleeve, knocking over a wine pot and sending the amber liquid winding across the tabletop in the shape of abacus beads. "Still better than that bizarre habit of yours of soaking your feet in sour plum soup!" Huwa immediately carved a little figure holding a wine pot beside the wine stain, the abacus-bead eyes staring at Pei Hongxiu's reddened eartips, which caused the dyers to stifle their laughter.
Chapter 111