My father ordered me to kill the emperor, but His Majesty bestowed a princess upon me instead.

I've been visiting Ci'en Temple quite frequently lately.

When the young novice monk at the door saw me, his face no longer held the pure smile of a Buddhist monk, but only a weary look that seemed to say, "You've brought misfortune to our temple again, benefactor."

I understand him very well.

After all, since I came to the capital, Ci'en Temple has hardly been kind to anyone.

I've seen dead people at the clock tower.

Old letters were hidden in the backyard.

He was a spy who mingled among the pilgrims.

I almost picked up the prayer mat in front of the Buddha statue and looked inside to see if there were any curtains underneath.

The old monk Huiming was even more direct.

He saw me enter, put down the wooden fish in his hand, and sighed.

That sigh was very long.

It's like sighing on behalf of Buddha.

"Lord Shen."

I clasped my hands in a gesture of respect.

"master."

Huiming looked at me, then at A-Liu and Yan Xiaoyi behind me.

Ah Liu was holding a packet of incense and candles, his expression of piety was fake.

Yan Xiaoyi, clutching his knife, stood awkwardly, as if he had come to the temple to find a place to take a nap.

Huiming sighed again.

"Lord Shen, have you come today to offer incense or to investigate a case?"

I am very sincere.

"It doesn't matter."

Huiming closed his eyes.

"The Buddhist community is pure and tranquil."

I nodded.

"So it's suitable for talking about dirty things."

Ah Liu almost coughed up his own throat in the back.

Huiming looked at me and remained silent for a long time.

Finally, he said, "This old monk's temple will sooner or later be investigated by Lord Shen and become an outer office of the Ministry of Justice."

I comforted him, "Don't worry, Master, the Ministry of Justice doesn't have as many worshippers as Ci'en Temple."

Huiming became even more worried.

He led us to the backyard.

The backyard of Ci'en Temple was much quieter than the front hall. Some withered leaves were scattered on the bluestone path, and there were several pots of orchids that were almost frozen and wilting in the corner. The orchids in winter didn't look very healthy; their leaves drooped, as if they had been frightened by the winds of the capital.

As Ah Liu walked, he asked in a low voice, "Young master, is Lan Yezhen really here?"

"meeting."

Will Lan Bugui come?

"have no idea."

Ah Liu lowered his voice: "If she comes, will she kill us?"

I glanced at him.

"Why do you feel like everyone you meet lately is going to kill us?"

Ah Liu said seriously, "Because lately everyone looks like they're going to kill us."

That makes a lot of sense.

I couldn't refute it.

Huiming led us to an old side room in the backyard.

"Last night, a young novice monk found an old clothes basket here with a needle stuck in it. I dared not touch it."

I looked toward that side room.

The door was half-closed, the window paper was old and yellow, and there was a layer of fine dust on the threshold.

There were footprints in the ash.

not much.

They moved in and out very lightly.

Yan Xiaoyi stepped forward first and took a look.

"Woman's footprints".

Ah Liu was startled.

"Lan won't return?"

Yan Xiaoyi said lazily, "There are quite a few women with feet in the capital."

Ah Liu choked.

I squatted down and looked at the footprints.

The shoes have narrow soles and short strides, but they provide a very stable footing.

She doesn't look like an old woman.

She didn't seem like an ordinary maid either.

Lan Bugui may not have come in person.

But these footprints at least show that the person who left the items knew how to avoid the temple's night patrols.

I pushed the door open and went in.

There was a smell of old clothes in the side room.

It doesn't smell bad, but it's stuffy.

Like clothes that have been washed, dried, and stored away, they are slowly covered by the cold air of time.

A bamboo basket was placed in the center of the room.

The bamboo basket was old, its edges worn smooth, and a gray cloth was draped over it.

A needle was inserted in the center of the gray cloth.

The needle pressed obliquely against a piece of orchid leaf-shaped fabric.

Three holes form an orchid.

When I saw that piece of cloth, my heart sank slightly.

Lan Bugui's secret mark.

She didn't arrive in person, but the needle did.

This is more troublesome than her sitting in the house herself.

When people arrive, you can still ask them questions.

The needle has arrived; we can only guess.

I reached out to take the needle.

Yan Xiaoyi suddenly grabbed my wrist.

"etc."

I stopped.

He bent down and looked at the needle tip.

There's something there.

The tip of the needle had a dark bluish tinge.

It's so fine that you can't see it at all unless you look closely.

Ah Liu's face turned green.

"poison?"

Yan Xiaoyi said, "It looks like it."

I withdrew my hand.

well.

Lan Bugui is still the same Lan Bugui.

When giving you clues, she subtly reminds you that she doesn't believe you.

I asked Huiming, "Master, are there oil lamps in the temple?"

Huiming nodded and asked the young novice to bring a cup.

Yan Xiaoyi used the tip of her knife to pick up the orchid leaf needles and gently roasted them over the fire.

A tiny wisp of bluish smoke rose from the needle tip.

Ah Liu took two steps back.

"Young master, this is too unethical; they even poison the messenger."

I said, "This isn't poisoning me."

"That is?"

"He's the one who's too quick to use poison."

Ah Liu thought about it.

"I think that's about right."

Yan Xiaoyi put the needle aside and used the scabbard to pry open the gray cloth.

There are several items in the bamboo basket.

An old children's garment.

The edges of a few wooden signs.

Half a ledger page.

There was also a section of charred red thread.

I picked up the old children's clothes first.

The children's clothes were very small, like those for a three- or four-year-old. The cuffs were worn out, and there were patches on the hem. The patches were stitched very finely, not with the skill of a wealthy family's embroiderer, but they were very steady.

There was a small ink stain on the inside of the hem of the garment.

It's not a name.

It is the character "入".

I frowned.

Huiming's expression changed when he saw the children's clothes.

"Is this the old laundry bureau's official seal?"

I looked up.

"Does the master recognize you?"

Huiming said, "Around the eleventh year of Chengxi's reign, some of the old clothes, corpse clothes, and criminal clothes in the palace that had been transferred from the old laundry bureau were stamped with seals. I saw this when I was young."

The old laundry bureau.

The eleventh year of Chengxi.

The Ministry of Rites' Ceremonial Affairs Office.

Aunt Lan's shroud.

These words, like a string of cold copper coins, have been re-threaded together.

I looked through the children's clothes.

There was still a bit of old brown on the inside of the collar.

It doesn't look like mud.

It looks more like faint marks left after a bloodbath.

Ah Liu saw it too and whispered, "Young master, is this another blood-stained garment?"

I didn't answer.

In the first volume, Lan Bugui sent a baby's blood-stained clothes.

Ji Qing said, "That's not mine."

Now she has sent over another piece of children's clothing.

This one might not even be mine.

But Lan never returns to deliver things; she is never idle.

She couldn't have just been reminding me that the old laundry department was dirty.

What she wanted me to see was: how old clothes are registered, how dead people are renamed, and how living people disappear.

I put down the children's clothes and picked up the corner of the wooden sign.

There are four pieces in total.

The wood, paint color, and carving marks are all similar to the disaster relief wooden plaques made by Fang Deshun and Fang Liu.

Half of the character "清" (Qing) was still visible on one of the corners.

The other piece has remnants of the character "柳" (willow).

The third piece was scraped so deeply that the original characters were almost unrecognizable.

There is a small pinhole on the back of the fourth piece.

The area around the needle hole was blackened, as if it had been strung with thread before.

Ah Liu asked, "How did the wooden sign end up in the old clothes basket?"

I said, "This is the question Lan Bugui wants me to ask."

The old clothes basket was meant to hold clothes.

The disaster relief plaques should have been in the hands of the disaster victims.

If the two things are mixed together, it means that someone has connected "clothing" and "door" together.

Clothing can prove a person's character.

A household registration can also serve as proof of identity.

If you put a person's clothes into an old clothes basket, change their name tag, and cross their name off the register, then whether that person lives or dies is no longer up to them.

According to the accountant.

According to the Book of Rites.

According to the Ministry of Revenue.

According to the Ministry of Rites.

I finally picked up that half of the ledger page.

The ledger pages were torn, the edges were uneven, there were water stains on them, and the ink had smudged quite a bit.

However, a few lines of text can still be made out.

Yong'an, a former resident of Liugou, surnamed Fang Chen, was not included in the relief register.

My son, Fang Xiaogen, has not been included in the relief list.

Fang Deshun has already received it.

Fang Liushi has already been received.

My fingers stopped.

Fang Chenshi and Fang Xiaogen are alive.

Not included in the relief register.

Fang Deshun and Fang Liushi died.

Received.

This is not a book of dead people.

This is the living people's account.

An account that removes living people from the disaster relief roster.

I continued reading.

Li Dalang, from Shiqiao Village in Qingping, was not included in the relief register.

Zhao Erniang, from Shimen West Alley, was not included in the relief register.

Zhou Abao, from the North Embankment of Yong'an, was not included in the relief register.

There were many more names after that, but unfortunately they were torn off.

I recognized a few of these names yesterday in the temporary brothel register.

In other words, Lan Bugui already knew which living people had been removed from the Ministry of Revenue's disaster relief accounts.

But she didn't hand it over to me directly.

She first directed the disaster victims to the household registration office.

Let me go to the West Soup Stall again.

Finally, they handed over the half of the living people's account book.

Ah Liu cursed under his breath in anger.

"That Lan Bugui is such a troublemaker. Why didn't she just give herself to the young master earlier?"

I looked at the ledger pages.

"She didn't give me evidence."

"Then what did she give you?"

"Check my calculations."

Ah Liu didn't understand.

I said, "If I can't even find Fang Xiaogen, Fang Chenshi, Xizhoupeng, and Qinghe Yicang, then this account she gave me is useless. What she wants to see isn't whether I can collect evidence, but whether I can find out where the evidence should be kept."

Yan Xiaoyi scoffed from the side.

"You auditors must have a really tough life."

I ignored him.

Because he's right.

As the old monk Huiming looked at the account page, he suddenly murmured a Buddhist chant.

I asked, "What has the master remembered?"

Huiming remained silent for a moment.

"The old laundry department had a rule back then."

"What are the rules?"

"Clothes follow one's name."

I frowned.

Huiming said, "When clothing in the palace is registered, it must be with the person's name. When a person dies, their clothes are registered in the register of the dead. When a person is transferred, their clothes are registered in the register of transfers. If a person has no name, their clothes can only be registered in the miscellaneous category."

A slight thought crossed my mind.

"What if you wanted to remove a living person from the register?"

Huiming glanced at me and lowered his voice.

"Let his clothes be put in the book of the dead, or let his name be put under the clothes of another."

The room fell silent.

Ah Liu's face turned pale when he heard this.

To an ordinary person, these words would sound sinister.

But when I put it in my ear, it's almost like a key.

In the Ministry of Revenue's disaster relief case, the dead received grain rations while the living remained anonymous.

In the old cases of the old laundry bureau, the corpse's clothes were recorded, and Aunt Lan faked her death.

The two are unrelated on the surface.

In reality, they all use the same method.

Change the name.

Change the book.

Change identity.

Eleven years ago, they were able to send Aunt Lan out of the dead's tent with just a shroud.

Now, they can use wooden signs for disaster victims to send living people out of the relief register, and then let the dead collect the food for them.

The Ministry of Rites' Ceremonial Office was in charge of wedding ceremonies, as well as old ceremonial registers, clothing registers, and funeral records.

They probably don't touch money.

But they touch on "fame".

When one is in the official's office, the worst thing is to be unknown.

Without a name, there is no food.

Without a name, there is no medicine.

If you have no name, you're not considered dead even if you die.

I folded the ledger pages and put them in my pocket.

Ah Liu whispered, "Young master, should we seal this away?"

"want."

"Then why did you put it in your arms?"

"Because this thing is now easier to steal than my knife."

Ah Liu immediately looked at my cuff.

I glanced at him.

"Don't look."

He quickly lowered his head.

Yan Xiaoyi walked to the window and glanced outside.

"Someone has been here."

I asked, "And now?"

"I'm gone."

"How many people?"

"one."

"Which direction?"

"Back wall".

I immediately went to the window.

Outside the back wall of Ci'en Temple is a very narrow alley. At the end of the alley stands an old locust tree, its grounds covered with fallen leaves.

There was half a footprint on the fallen leaf.

Not deep.

Narrow soles and short stride.

It's the same as the footprint at the entrance of the side room.

Ah Liu asked, "Is Lan not returning?"

I looked out the wall.

"It doesn't look like it."

Why?

"If Lan Bugui wants me to know she was here, she will leave a needle. If she doesn't want me to know, she won't leave any footprints."

Ah Liu is confused again.

Yan Xiaoyi said lazily, "Someone delivered the basket for her, and others watched us take the basket."

I nodded.

Things are getting more and more interesting.

Lan Bugui provides clues.

Someone else was watching Lan Bugui as he passed on clues.

This means that I'm not the only one who wants the living people's account.

The accounting committee was also afraid that it would fall into my hands.

I asked Ah Liu to put away the corners of the wooden plaque and the old children's clothes, and I also asked Hui Ming to seal up the side room.

Huiming glanced at me.

"Lord Shen, if something like this happens again, could you please choose another temple?"

I thought about it.

"Which temples in the capital still have good incense offerings?"

Huiming remained expressionless.

"no."

I smiled, clasped my hands in farewell, and took my leave.

When I left Ci'en Temple, the incense in the front hall was burning brightly.

A group of worshippers knelt before the Buddha, praying for peace, wealth, offspring, and official success.

I stood at the door for a while and suddenly felt it was quite absurd.

The people prayed to the gods and Buddhas to save their lives.

But whether they can truly survive is often not up to Buddha.

In a roster.

As long as the name is there, there's half a bowl of porridge.

Even starving to death is called fraudulent claiming of property.

Ah Liu whispered from the side, "Young master, where are we going now?"

I looked at the half of the living people's tent in my arms.

"Return to the Censorate."

"Not going back to the mansion?"

"Find Lord Zhao first."

Why?

"Because this case involving the Ministry of Revenue cannot be judged solely on silver."

"What does that count for?"

I looked up and glanced at the plaque above the entrance to Ci'en Temple.

"Count people."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a young novice monk rushed over from outside the temple gate.

"Lord Shen, a female benefactor just asked me to deliver something."

He handed me a small paper packet.

Inside the paper package was a piece of red thread.

The red thread was burned black at one end.

It's exactly the same as the one in the old clothes basket.

There was also a line of very fine writing on the inside of the paper package.

Three days ago, the Ministry of Rites took three boxes of old disaster relief clothing and put them into the Ceremonial Office.

My fingers tightened.

three days ago.

It's been three days since then.

Du Heng was transferred to the Ministry of Rites' Ceremonial Affairs Office three days ago.

The Ministry of Rites collected three boxes of old disaster relief clothing three days ago.

The wedding date was also postponed at that time.

Ah Liu leaned over for a look and gasped.

"Young master, what is the purpose of the Ministry of Rites requisitioning disaster relief clothing?"

I closed the paper package.

The wind blew past the gate of Ci'en Temple, carrying a chill mixed with the smell of incense ash.

I suddenly had a very bad feeling.

The Ministry of Rites wants to test my wedding attire.

They also took the old disaster clothes.

If someone were to string together the wooden plaques, old clothes, formal attire, and Tibetan knives belonging to disaster victims…

What they want to do is not necessarily just to expose my hidden dagger.

They might stuff a book of dead people into their wedding attire.