Every night, after everyone fell asleep, Zhuge Ha would sit alone by the lamp, spread out the thick account bo…
Every night, after everyone fell asleep, Zhuge Ha would sit alone by the lamp, spread out the thick account book, and record every expense of the "Pocketrupt Circus".
He would write for a long, long time, as if there were countless things to record. He would also mutter to himself as he wrote, as if every detail was worth caring about.
——Expense: 2 qian of silver, purchased 20 chi of Sogdian red silk
"Anzi's Immortal Rope is getting more and more worn out. This is her livelihood, she doesn't even mention it's old."
"Running around all day, not even sending a message back. Making people worry about her nonstop!"
Zhuge Ha muttered, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bamboo bird beside him, letting out a long sigh.
——Expense: 500 copper coins, purchased several pots of Persian medicinal wine
"That fool Qingqing, he never thinks about himself! He doesn't say a word when he loses money, when he's scolded by the audience, or when he gets hurt!"
"Next time, next time he gets hurt again, I'll definitely not buy him such expensive medicine!"
Despite his harsh words, his box was filled with empty medicine bottles.
——Expense: 300 copper coins, purchased sugar melons, Salted Milk Curds, roasted lamb legs, hot pot dishes...
"These two little monkeys, they're greedier than anyone else! They can't move when they see food! They'll eat up all our savings sooner or later."
"Forget it, forget it, they're growing. Hmph, if I'd eaten this well when I was young, I wouldn't have ended up so short and stubby!"
Zhuge Ha huffed, puffing his beard in anger, not noticing the crisp bell ring outside the tent at all.
He closed the account book, blew out the lamp, picked up his pipe, and walked straight out.
Once he was far away, two small figures sneaked into the tent.
"Xiaoyin, I bet the troupe master wrote all his secrets in here."
"Account... Xiaojin, how do you read this word?"
"Ugh, it's not a diary... it's an account book... What a letdown!"
"Xiaoyin, do you think the troupe master is the biggest miser ever? He even writes down every bit of food he buys!"
"Hmm... He is a miser. So stingy that he never buys anything for himself."
Jin and Yin Bells walked out empty-handed, dejected, even their bell rings sounded dull.
The moonlight was bright and clear. Zhuge Ha leaned against a tree not far away, almost blending into the shadow.
Only the faint red glow of his pipe flickered in the dark night, lighting up and dimming with his breath.
He watched the two small figures crawl into their own small tent. Finally, silence returned to the surroundings.
"A miser? Hmph... I'm happy to be one."