In the thirteenth year of the Tianbao era: I became Yang Guozhong's eldest son.

None of the people in the hall made a sound.

But almost simultaneously, a name popped into my mind.

He Liu.

Doorway, servant, street, messenger, miscellaneous expenses shed, government office outside.

This kind of person is stuck in the middle, between "big fish are not worth touching first, and small fish are too light."

It's best suited for surgery.

Cui Shenxian spoke first:

"He Liu is standing in the hall today, next to Xu Jingyao's left hand."

"Just now, I rushed to the back of the West Market again."

"Both the miscellaneous records and the names of the servants can be associated with him."

"Plus, there's that cash at the city gate..."

He didn't finish speaking.

Because that's enough.

Yang Xuan didn't make a decision immediately.

He simply flipped through a few more pages of the booklet, looking at the names, scratches, miscellaneous expenses, and salt tax losses one by one.

After a long while, he finally closed the paper.

"First thing tomorrow morning."

"Don't touch the county magistrate or the registrar yet."

"Let's start with the people at the door."

"Bring the names of the constables, the duty roster, the miscellaneous expenses for the city gates, the night patrol duties, and the cleaning of the ditch in front of the yamen, and check them one by one in the hall."

"Whoever is in power, speaks."

"Whoever can't explain it, should step forward first."

Afu's eyes lit up immediately.

"Young master, are we going to make He Liu the first to behead him?"

"Not even a knife."

Yang Xuan said.

"First, make him lift his face up."

"If he's smart enough, he'll back down on his own tomorrow."

"If he still dares to push forward by relying on the old rules, then that's perfect."

Pei Zhao asked:

"What should I do?"

"You take Lu Cheng with you."

"Stand at the yamen tomorrow."

"We don't need many people."

"But we must let everyone see that the old atmosphere at the entrance of the yamen today is no longer the same old atmosphere."

Pei Zhao nodded, his eyes slowly darkening.

This is a job he's familiar with.

From deeper inside the hall, two very soft barks suddenly came from.

Dou Ping has also returned.

The message he brought back was more direct.

He Liu went to the back of the West Market, but did not go for a drink.

"I'm going to see one of Hu Rong's regular employees who works with the salt cart."

"The two exchanged only a few words before He Liu handed over the small bag he was carrying."

"It's like silver, and it's also like paper."

Cui Shen smiled.

It's really cold this time.

"That's good."

"We had just finished writing the list of missing volumes for printing when the people in the government office started passing things out."

They were even more anxious than we were.

Yang Xuan looked at the few tattered books under the lamp and spoke in a low voice.

"The fact that it's urgent means it hurts."

"If today's printing ceremony was just for show, they wouldn't be in such a hurry to add more details."

"It's precisely because they know this isn't a place for someone to just sit around and do nothing that they're rushing out overnight."

Upon hearing this, Han Jitong felt a sudden release of the pent-up frustration he had been carrying.

He has endured so many years in Yanjing County.

The most desperate moment is not when you see false contracts, false accounts, or false names.

It's like knowing there's a problem, but finding that everyone else treats these problems as normal.

Like rotten mud that has been rotting for too long, even people no longer find it smelly.

But right now, the people in this hall are flipping through these old books, and the more they flip through them, the colder they feel, and the clearer they see.

That stench was finally mistaken for a stench again.

As Yang Xuan stood up, the lamplight flickered.

He wasn't fully recovered from his illness, so he didn't get up quickly.

But at that moment, everyone in the hall looked up.

That's all for tonight.

"Cui Shen, write down all the matches as single numbers."

"Household registration, corvée labor, names of servants, sealed warehouse records, salt tax registers—where are the blanks, where are the falsified records, where do the two records not match? All of these must be recorded by tomorrow."

"Han Jitong".

"exist."

"Please put the following lines in order for me: Qing'ao Well, weighing at the back, washing accounts at the brokerage, and salt transport by the caravan."

"Don't just talk about who ate it."

"As for how to eat it, who does it pass through first, and who does it end up with?"

Han Jitong took a deep breath and nodded in agreement.

"As for tonight."

Yang Xuan scanned the faces of everyone present.

"No one needs to sleep too soundly."

"Today is the first night this county government office has changed hands."

"Those people outside won't stay peaceful."

Afu subconsciously touched his lower back.

"They still dare to come to the government office?"

"It may not be coming."

Yanhe stood up and said calmly.

"Or maybe they're just waiting to see who the new magistrate will address first thing tomorrow morning."

Yang Xuan nodded.

"That's why we need to make them see things clearly."

"The real problem in Yanjing County isn't the lack of silver or grain."

"Everyone feels that these silver and grain should not have gone into the county government office in the first place."

"Then let's start tomorrow and get them to change their minds."

The candlelight in the hall had been burning for a long time, and the flame flickered and popped slightly.

......

Few people slept soundly that night in Yanjing County.

The lights in the county government office stayed on until late at night, and the back market of the West Market was still bustling.

The night wind, carrying salty and brine-like odors, seeped in through the cracks in the broken windows, old corridors, and half-closed courtyard gates, as if the whole county knew that the newly arrived magistrate hadn't gone to the inner quarters to rest on his first night. Instead, he had laid out all the household registers, corvée labor registers, names of servants, warehouse storage registers, and salt tax registers in the hall.

This is no small matter.

Afu woke up before dawn.

He was awakened by the cold, and when he got up and looked into the courtyard, he saw that the light was still on in the east wing.

Cui Shen sat behind his desk, clutching a stack of booklets, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, yet his pen continued to move.

Han Jitong leaned back in his chair, a bandage draped over his shoulder. He endured the pain as he wrote down the details of Qing'ao Well, the weighing process at the back, the transfer of accounts at the brokerage firm, and the crossing of the caravan line on the paper.

Yang Xuan did not return to her room.

He was still sitting in the main hall, his outer robe draped over his shoulders, with the three things he had sorted out the night before laid out in front of him.

A missing book list.

A statement of account written last night.

There is also a separate page from the miscellaneous expenses record, detailing the city gate miscellaneous expenses.

The records above listed various expenses, including money for ditch repair, shed repair, ditch cleaning, night patrol duty, and temporary labor costs. They were all small and insignificant, and on their own, they didn't seem particularly remarkable.

But once it's combined with that crooked shed at the city gate, that layer of dust in the yamen, and that cracked drum skin beside the judge's desk, the whole flavor changes.

The money has been received.

The matter was not resolved.

Where the money went is self-evident.

Uncle Wen came in carrying a bowl of hot medicine, his expression not very good.

"My lord, drink your medicine first."

Yang Xuan took it and swallowed it mouthful by mouthful. Just as the bitterness settled in his throat, he heard Pei Zhao's footsteps outside.

"Everyone has been taken care of."

Pei Zhao bowed with his hands clasped upon entering, his voice low but deep.

"Lu Cheng stood to the left of the yamen entrance, while Dou Ping watched people from the street corner outside. Chen Ye followed He Liu in the latter half of the night and didn't get lost."

"He Liu is back?"

"Yes."

Pei Zhao said, "I didn't sneak home until after midnight, and went out again before dawn. I went to the shed at the city gate first, said a few words to the accountant in the short jacket who kept the money, and then called two idle men who usually looked after the shed. We were strolling towards the yamen."

Afu's eyes lit up when he heard that.

"This is like handing yourself a knife's edge."

Cui Shen raised his head, his voice deep.

"It's not a gift."

"It's a spy."

"He wants to see how far we've come last night. If it's just a superficial investigation, he can gloss over this today. But if he's really going to be the one to take the blame, he'll have to test the waters for those who come after him first, to see where the knife will actually fall."