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

When I decided to investigate He Xiang, Ah Liu's expression was priceless.

He rolled his eyes at first.

Then it turned blue again.

Finally, it turned into a color that's hard to describe, like the calming soup from the South Soup Vendor mixed with the thin porridge from the West Soup Vendor.

"Young master, are you really going?"

"go."

"Now?"

"Now."

"How about we wait until dawn?"

"By daylight, only ashes remained."

Ah Liu opened his mouth, realized that what he said made a lot of sense, and became even more frightened.

In places like Qinghe Lane, the worst thing is waiting.

The old treasury of the Ministry of Rites has just been burned.

Du Heng has just died.

The cover of the main volume of the collection of personal clothing was just taken out from the bottom of the palace clothing box.

Shen Lie then sent another message: "Take it from the southwest."

If Qinghe Lane had not been cleaned up by this time, it meant that the people in charge of clearing accounts were either incompetent or had other plans.

The former is impossible.

Therefore, it can only be the latter.

I had Ah Liu seal all the key evidence in three separate portions.

One copy remains in Chengpingfang.

One copy was sent to the Censorate.

One of them was carried by Yan Xiaoyi.

Upon hearing the words "carry it with you," Ah Liu immediately pushed the evidence box into Yan Xiaoyi's arms.

Yan Xiaoyi looked at him.

"You actually believe me."

Ah Liu was very sincere.

"I believe Master Yan runs fast."

Yan Xiaoyi nodded.

"You have good taste."

I don't want to comment on them.

Zhao Guanlan's men arrived very quickly.

The two constables from the Censorate were named Qin Er and He Qi.

Judging from the name, he doesn't seem like someone who would write memorials; he sounds more like someone who would raid homes.

Zhao Guanlan also attached a piece of paper.

The above only contains one sentence:

Inspect items, don't arrest people; if you see accounts, seal them up first; if there's a fire, run away first.

I remained silent for a moment after reading it.

Zhao Guanlan is indeed getting to know me better and better.

Ah Liu leaned over to take a look, pointed to the last four characters, and said, "Young master, Lord Zhao is truly a wise man."

I put the paper away.

Which sentence do you like best?

"If there's fire, run first."

"Very good, you may stay in the manor."

Ah Liu immediately changed his tune.

"I think checking items is also very good."

Zhou Xian was invited by someone I sent.

To be precise, it wasn't "please".

It was to tell him that if the Ministry of Rites' old clothing trunks were found in Qinghe Lane, and he did not appear, the Ministry of Rites would have difficulty explaining himself later.

Then Zhou Xian arrived.

He looked terrible when he arrived, but he had at least tidied his clothes.

This is the instinct of those in the Ministry of Rites.

Even if you're going to a fire scene, a soup kitchen, or a horrible place like Qinghe Lane, you have to make sure you're wearing your hat properly first.

I looked at him.

"You've worked hard, Lord Zhou."

Zhou Xian gave a wry smile.

"Lord Shen has been saying he's had a hard time these past few days, but to me it sounds like he's being put on his deathbed."

You'll get used to it.

"This humble official is not inclined to get used to it."

"It's too late."

Zhou Xian fell silent.

Before we left, Qiutang came by again.

She brought back a message from Xiao Lingyi:

"If there are accounts in Qinghe Lane, don't just look at the silver, also look at the clothes."

After listening, I nodded.

Xiao Lingyi's words were very accurate.

If Qinghe Lane were truly a transit point, the accounts might not have directly recorded silver.

They might write rice, medicine, clothing, incense, boxes, or vehicles.

When analyzing these kinds of accounts, you can't just focus on the money.

Sometimes, a piece of clothing can be more deadly than a thousand taels of silver.

Qinghe Lane is located in the east of the city.

It is close to several money exchange shops, old grain stores, and foot shops.

It's crowded during the day, but quiet at night.

Two tattered lanterns hung at the entrance of the alley; their skins were old and yellowed, and the light that shone through was gray.

The alley is narrow, with old houses, grain shops, and small grocery stores on both sides.

There are tire tracks on the ground.

a lot of.

The new is pressing down on the old.

The old ones were washed by water, while the new ones still had wet mud on them.

Yan Xiaoyi squatted down and took a look.

"There's a car leaving today."

I asked, "How many?"

"At least three. Two empty trucks go out, and one loaded truck comes in."

Ah Liu whispered, "You can tell that?"

Yan Xiaoyi was too lazy to explain.

I said for him, "Empty cart tracks are shallow, heavy cart tracks are deep. If you eat a few more pancakes, you'll also leave heavy cart tracks."

Ah Liu silently covered his stomach.

Deep in the alley, there is an old sign.

Qinghe Yicang.

The sign hung on the door of an old house, the paint on the lettering was peeling and looked like it hadn't been repainted for many years.

The door knocker was very clean.

The threshold was also clean.

This means that the old parts are shown to others, while the new parts are kept for personal use.

An old gatekeeper stood at the entrance.

When he saw us, he was taken aback at first, then immediately smiled.

"Gentlemen, it's so late..."

Before he could finish speaking, Qin Er had already shown off his Censorate badge.

The old doorman's smile froze.

I asked, "Is this Qinghe Granary?"

"It's an old sign, we don't use it anymore," the old doorman said hurriedly. "Now we just store some grains and odds and ends."

"Who's in charge?"

"The owner is not here."

"What's the owner's name?"

"have no idea."

Ah Liu whispered behind me, "He doesn't know again."

I asked, "You're here guarding the gate, don't you know the owner's name?"

The old doorman had a bitter face.

"This old man only collects his monthly salary and doesn't ask the name of his employer."

This statement could be true or false.

But in Qinghe Lane, authenticity doesn't matter.

The important question is whether he will live long enough to say his next word.

I looked at Yan Xiaoyi.

Yan Xiaoyi took a step forward.

The old doorman immediately trembled.

"This old man really doesn't know! He only knows that the manager's surname is Hu, and everyone calls him Accountant Hu."

Where are they?

"I went out this afternoon."

"Where to?"

"have no idea."

well.

People in Qinghe Lane are very familiar with the phrase "don't know".

I didn't ask any more questions, and simply said, "Open the door."

The old doorman hesitated.

Qin Er handed the waist token forward.

"Those who obstruct the investigation by the Censorate will be punished equally."

The old doorman quickly opened the door.

When the door opened, it was pitch black inside.

The aroma comes out first.

The taste of grain.

Musty smell.

The smell of medicine.

There was also a very faint, calming fragrance.

Ah Liu immediately covered his nose.

"Young master, this smell is here again."

I nodded.

Qinghe Lane certainly did not disappoint me.

It smells honestly.

Several rows of empty shelves stood in the courtyard, and sacks were piled against the wall, but most of them were empty. To the right was a large room with the door half open, and the interior looked like a storage room. To the left was a row of small rooms, all with their windows closed.

It looks empty.

The emptiness is problematic.

A truly abandoned charity granary wouldn't be this clean.

Even a warehouse that is still in use wouldn't be this empty.

Only places that have just been cleared will be so empty, as if they knew I was coming.

I went into the warehouse.

The ground was swept.

They swept very hard.

The harder you sweep, the easier it is to leave marks.

There was rice noodles in the corner.

A thin layer settles into the cracks between the bricks.

I squatted down and rubbed it between my fingertips.

This is not your average new rice flour.

It contained moldy powder from the old warehouse.

It smells similar to the old rice on the rice bags at the West Congee Stall.

Ah Liu came over.

"Is this rice?"

"It's rice."

"Didn't they move everything out?"

"Emptying out doesn't mean they were never here."

I pointed to the wall.

"Look."

There were several drag marks from burlap sacks along the wall.

The drag marks are new, and there are still bits of rice on the edges.

This indicates that grain was stored here not long ago.

And there are quite a few of them.

I walked to the other side.

There were a few drops of brown medicine stains on the ground.

It's already dried.

I scraped off a little bit with a piece of wood and smelled it.

Ah Liu was so frightened that he immediately backed away.

"Young master, why do you smell everything?"

"The nose is more reliable than the mouth."

The medicine tastes very faint.

It's not your average bitter medicine.

It has a calming soup base.

Southern porridge stall.

Clear and transfer.

Right.

Zhou Xian stood at the door, his expression growing increasingly grim.

I asked him, "Lord Zhou, would the Ministry of Rites' old clothing trunks be sent through a place like this?"

Zhou Xian frowned.

"According to regulations, no."

"What if it's not regulated?"

He was silent.

In the past few days, he has gained a deep understanding of "non-regulation".

Several wooden crates were piled up in the corner of the warehouse.

The box is empty.

But there was still some ash from fumigation at the bottom of the box.

Zhou Xian stepped forward and took a look, then his expression suddenly changed.

"This box of nails..."

"You recognize it?"

He nodded.

"The box that the Ministry of Rites sent for the inner robe had the same flat nails on all four corners. Ordinary box nails have round heads, but these flat nails are mostly used for clothing boxes to prevent snagging."

I look at him.

"Is Lord Zhou sure?"

"Sure."

"Ah Liu, write this down."

Ah Liu wrote it down immediately.

Zhou Xian did not stop it this time.

He now needs evidence to prove that not everyone in the Ministry of Rites is an idiot.

We continued our investigation.

In the small room on the left, there is one that looks like an accounting room.

The tables and chairs are still there.

The ledgers are gone.

There was ash in the charcoal brazier, and the ash hadn't completely cooled down yet.

Ah Liu touched it and almost burned his hand.

"Young master, it's only been burning for a short time!"

I looked at the charcoal brazier.

The paper inside was being burned.

It was burned into tiny pieces.

But the people in the accounting committee have a problem.

Too confident.

They believed that once burned to ashes, it would be gone.

However, some papers will leave indentations after being burned, especially account paper, ticket paper, and thick envelopes.

I asked Ah Liu to bring a thin board and carefully spread the ashes out.

There were a few unburnt pieces in the ash.

The character "南" is still visible on one of the pieces.

The character "礼" (li, meaning ritual or propriety) is tattered on one piece.

There was also a sign that read "Palace".

When the character "宫" appeared, the room fell silent for a moment.

Ah Liu's pen stopped.

"Young master, this palace..."

I nodded.

"remember."

He swallowed hard and continued writing.

The character "宫" (palace) appeared in the ashes of the accounting office in Qinghe Lane.

This is more telling than finding the cover of a collection of personal clothing at the bottom of a palace clothing box.

The palace robes did not come alone.

Qinghe Lane has long had the destination of "Palace".

Looking at the ashes, I suddenly felt a chill in the room.

The Qinghe line is deeper than I thought.

Grain distribution department.

Medicine is sold at soup kitchens.

Wearing old clothes, they went to the Ministry of Rites.

The palace robes were worn as they entered the inner court.

Each line can be interpreted individually.

When put together, they form a net.

As we were investigating, Yan Xiaoyi suddenly returned from the backyard.

"There's a stable behind here."

"Arima?"

"No. I'm gone."

"how long?"

"Within one hour."

"How many?"

Two horses.

He paused for a moment, then said, "There was one that had been slashed by a short weapon."

I looked at him.

"How did you figure that out?"

"There were scratches on the scabbard around the manger, and it smelled strongly of leather. It wasn't an ordinary guard."

Ah Liu asked in a low voice, "People from Qinghe Lane?"

Yan Xiaoyi shook his head.

"Like someone from Southwest China."

The air in the room changed instantly.

I went to the backyard.

The stables are indeed empty.

There was fresh horse manure on the ground, and next to it was a small piece of crushed hay with a little red soil mixed in.

There is no such red soil in the capital.

There are many such mountain roads in the southwest.

I squatted down and picked up the piece of red soil.

Slowly tighten your fingers.

Xu Sandao.

He came here.

Or perhaps someone from the southwest came here.

I suddenly had a very bad feeling.

I'm not the only one eyeing Qinghe Lane.

Shen Lie's men have also set their sights on them.

This means two things.

First, the southwest undercover team has discovered something in Qinghe Lane.

Secondly, they may have taken something before I did.

If they get accounts that can prove old cases, that's fine.

If they received false accounts deliberately left behind during the accounting process...

On his wedding day, Shen Lie would be pushed toward his death.

Ah Liu lowered his voice when he saw my expression.

"Young master, has Master San Dao been here?"

"possible."

"What's he doing here?"

"Get the bill."

"Did you get it?"

I looked at the empty stable.

"have no idea."

Yan Xiaoyi suddenly said, "There are also footprints here."

He pointed to the back door of the stable.

There was a set of deep footprints in the mud.

The steps were steady, with the toes slightly outward, and the right foot pressing down harder.

He looks a lot like Xu Sandao.

There was another set of footprints nearby.

light.

narrow.

I'm not familiar with it.

I asked, "Where did they go?"

Yan Xiaoyi said, "The back alley."

"Can we pursue him?"

"Now we're chasing after them, following their footprints. They're long gone."

I nodded.

Not urgent.

Let's finish checking this first.

If Xu Sandao had been here, he would have left his mark.

The father is a clean person, but he is different from someone who keeps accounts.

They like to burn things when they're clearing out accounts.

People from Southwest China like to take things with them.

If you take it away, it will leave an empty space.

And sometimes, empty spaces can speak louder than dust.

I returned to the main house and looked at the old plaque of Qinghe Yicang again.

The sign hangs on the inside of the door, with its back against the wall; it appears to be just an old item.

But it's too old.

It's so old it's like it's deliberately made so you don't want to touch it.

I walked over and reached out to touch it.

The bottom of the old card is a little loose.

My name is Yan Xiaoyi.

He tapped it with the back of the knife.

A thin piece of wood fell out from behind the old sign.

The back of the wooden piece is densely engraved with small characters.

This is not an ordinary account.

It's a secret mark.

Ah Liu leaned closer, his eyes blurring.

"What does this say?"

I looked at those words.

Household, 20 rice, west.

The rites, the three garments, the palace.

South, medicine four, clear.

West, card number seven, play.

Palace, clothing, seal.

Each line is short.

Like secret marks for the movement of goods.

The character 户 (hu) likely refers to the Ministry of Revenue.

The Ministry of Rites.

South, south porridge shed.

West, West Soup Vendor, or Southwest?

Palace, within the palace.

When I saw "palace, clothing, seal", my heart sank slightly.

Palace Clothing Box.

Sure enough, they passed through Qinghe Lane.

Or at least, Qinghe Lane recorded this palace robe.

The "Li, Yi San, Gong" likely refers to the box of old disaster relief clothing that was not put into the Ming Treasury but was transferred to the palace clothing line.

Zhou Xian's face was as white as it could possibly be.

"This...this can serve as evidence."

I glanced at him.

"Lord Zhou is very knowledgeable now."

He smiled bitterly.

"You can't do it if you don't understand."

I sealed the wooden pieces.

This is very important.

More important than the burnt scraps of paper.

This proves that Qinghe Lane is not a single transfer point.

Instead, it's a long-term transit point.

Grain, medicine, clothing, cards, palaces—all have passed through here.

Just then, Qin Er's voice came from the backyard.

"Lord Shen! There's still something here!"

We rushed over there.

A small piece of paper was stuck in a crack in the wall next to the back door of the stable.

It felt like it was hastily stuffed in, but not deep enough.

I took it out.

The words on the note were very familiar.

Xu Sandao's handwriting wasn't particularly beautiful, but it was very sharp, like a knife scraping through wood.

There is only one sentence above:

I'll take half of Qinghe's account.

As I looked at the note, my heart sank.

really.

Xu Sandao came by.

And they took half of the bill.

The question is, which half did he take?

The real account?

False accounts?

Or was it that the half of the settlement was deliberately left for the people from the Southwest to take?

Ah Liu's voice trembled.

"Young Master, what does Master Sandao mean by this?"

I put the note away.

"That means he's started auditing the accounts too."

Ah Liu blinked.

"Isn't this a good thing?"

I looked at the empty stable.

"uncertain."

A man accustomed to using a knife suddenly begins to audit accounts.

It means he's really in a hurry.

Either he'll want to draw his sword more than anyone else once he gets the money.