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

Half of the account book was placed on the desk in the Censorate's office.

It was already daylight.

The morning light shone through the window paper, illuminating the cover of the ledger, but it didn't brighten it; instead, it made it look even older.

The two characters "Qinghe" on the cover are written very steadily.

It doesn't look like a hasty writing.

It doesn't seem like a temporary forgery.

The older these kinds of accounts are, the more troublesome they become.

The new account can be said to have been made on the spot.

Old debts are like bones buried in the mud; when they are dug out, everyone has to ask first: how long have they been dead?

Ah Liu stood behind me, his eyes red as if a rabbit had pierced them.

He didn't sleep all night, and followed me from the Ministry of Rites to the Water Gate, from the Water Gate to Qinghe Lane, and from Qinghe Lane to the Censorate. It's already quite remarkable that he can still stand up now.

He stared at the tent, his voice trembling.

"Young master, is this the real account?"

I didn't answer immediately.

I turned to the first page.

The pages had burn marks on the edges, but the paper itself was relatively well preserved.

The first page is not the table of contents.

It's only half a stream.

Jia 3, twenty shi of old rice, west.

Jia Si, old rice sixteen shi, west.

Yi Yi, 20 jin of Anxiang, from the south.

B2, forty doses of calming soup ingredients, from the south.

On the fifth day of the month, three boxes of old disaster relief clothing were brought to the palace.

Ding Qi, seven wooden plaques, heading west.

Part Two, Empty Box One, Palace Seal.

The ninth day of the month, the old road is broken, preparations are made.

My finger paused when I saw "the old road is broken".

Ah Liu saw it too, and his voice immediately lowered.

"Young master, is this the kind of scrap paper from the southwest that comes with wedding attire?"

"picture."

"They even keep track of scraps of paper?"

"What's happening in Qinghe Lane isn't business, it's evidence of crime."

I continued flipping through the pages.

The following pages are more detailed.

When will rice arrive at the west porridge kitchen? When will medicine arrive at the south porridge kitchen? How many boxes of old clothes are there in the Ministry of Rites? When will the sealed boxes of palace robes be delivered? When will the wooden plaques be issued?

Each one is short.

It's so short, like an accountant afraid that if they write even one more word, their hand will be chopped off.

But these entries match.

Old rice from the west porridge stall, with old stamps on the rice bags.

Anxiang is located at the south porridge stall, opposite the medicine stall's auxiliary tent.

Three boxes of old disaster relief clothing were taken to the Ministry of Rites for collection.

The palace robe was sealed and placed against the bottom seal of the palace robe trunk.

Seven wooden signs were attached, one for the dead receiving grain and another for the wooden signs on the wall of Qinghe Lane.

This half-account is very accurate.

It's like Xu Sandao holding a knife to my neck and telling me: "Look, I can also check accounts."

But the more real it seemed, the more uneasy I felt.

I flipped to the middle section and found that the gaps in the ledger pages were neatly arranged.

It wasn't burned.

It was torn off.

From beginning to end, all the "out"s are there.

The grain goes out to the west porridge shed.

The medicine was delivered to the South Soup Dishes Shelter.

He went to the Ministry of Rites.

The box was taken out of the palace.

The card is played to the west.

But there is no "enter".

Where does the grain come from?

Who bought the medicine?

Who will hand in the old clothes?

Who carved the wooden plaque?

Who pays the money?

Who approved it from above?

It's all gone.

Ah Liu gradually figured it out too.

"Young master, why does this account only record where the items went, but not where they came from?"

"Because what Xu Sandao gave me was the tent."

"What about the deposit?"

"It's either in his hands or in someone else's."

Ah Liu was stunned.

"Can this half-book be used?"

"able."

"Can he beat Zheng Huaien?"

"I could bite him."

"Can't we kill him?"

"cannot."

I spread out the ledger pages.

"It can prove that rice, medicine, clothing, tokens, and palace clothing chests were indeed transferred through Qinghe Lane. It can prove that the evidence we obtained earlier was not an isolated point. But it cannot prove who made Qinghe Lane transfer the goods."

Ah Liu frowned.

"No name?"

"There's a hidden mark."

"Secret notes can't be counted as names?"

"Secret markings can make people feel guilty, but they can't make them confess."

I pointed to a spot.

Household, six silver, transfer.

The rites, the three garments, the palace.

Zheng, Pi, Wei Ru.

Feng, Yan, Guo.

Qin, Xiang, Jiudan.

These words are all deadly.

But it's still a little short.

"Zheng" could refer to Zheng Huai'en, or it could refer to a minor official surnamed Zheng.

"Feng" could refer to Feng Ke or the Feng family's bank.

"Qin" could refer to either Qin Shangyi or Qin Er.

Qin Er was standing nearby when he heard this, and his expression changed.

I look at him.

I wasn't talking about you.

Qin Er breathed a sigh of relief.

Ah Liu whispered, "Young master, they're really cunning."

"People who are good at keeping accounts are all cunning."

Ah Liu glanced at me.

I asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I suddenly realize that you're quite good at bookkeeping."

"So I'm still alive."

Ah Liu shut up.

This account cannot be viewed solely by the Censorate.

Xu Sandao delivered it to the side gate of the princess's residence, indicating that he intended for Xiao Lingyi to know.

He didn't just pick any place.

He wanted the princess's residence to be a witness.

The princess's residence should also bear half of this debt.

This is very much like Xu Sandao.

It may look thick and straight, but the knife is actually placed very precisely.

If the bill is sent directly to Chengpingfang, I can keep it privately.

If it is sent to the Censorate, Zhao Guanlan can seal it up as an official matter.

Sending it to the princess's residence would be tantamount to telling Xiao Lingyi:

Between Shen An and the Southwest, there are not only knives, but also tents.

The man you're about to marry is being forced to choose sides by his father.

I closed the tent.

"Go to the Princess's residence."

Upon hearing this, Ah Liu's eyes lit up again.

"Now?"

"Now."

"Young master, may I sleep in the Censorate for a while?"

"Can."

His eyes had just lit up.

I said, "You can sleep with the tent in your arms."

He immediately regained consciousness.

"I'm not sleepy anymore."

Zhao Guanlan arrived quickly.

After reading half of the account book, his face was even more somber than mine.

"Did Xu Sandao send this?"

"Yes."

Why did he send her to the princess's residence?

"You're forcing me."

"Also forcing the princess."

I nodded.

Zhao Guanlan turned to the page with the heading "Household, Silver Six, Transfer".

"This account can be discounted."

"You can go, but not alone."

"Are you afraid the Ministry of Revenue will retaliate?"

"It's not that I'm afraid, it's that they'll definitely turn around and bite me."

Zhao Guanlan looked at me.

I continued, "Qinghe Lane was just sealed off again, and the Ministry of Revenue's Chief Clerk Ma suffered a loss. Zheng Huai'en won't sit idly by and wait for me to submit a memorial. He will definitely submit a memorial first, saying that I investigated Qinghe Lane privately, concealed evidence against the Southwest, and framed the Ministry of Revenue."

Zhao Guanlan frowned.

Are you prepared?

"have."

"What preparations?"

"Let him hand it over first."

Zhao Guanlan paused for a moment.

"What are you planning to do now?"

I smiled.

"My lord, if the Ministry of Revenue doesn't implicate me first, how will I know which area they fear most?"

Zhao Guanlan looked at me for a long time and then said, "You're becoming more and more like an old fox lately."

"Is this a compliment?"

"no."

"Then I shall accept your praise."

Zhao Guanlan closed the tent.

"Going to the princess's residence is fine, but the accounts cannot be kept solely at the princess's residence. The Censorate will keep a copy."

"I've already had Ah Liu copy it."

Ah Liu's hands trembled when he heard this.

"Young master, it's so thick..."

"Weren't you not sleepy?"

Ah Liu wished he could slap himself for what he had just done.

Zhao Guanlan said, "I'll send Lu Huaizhou over to help with the search."

Lu Huaizhou.

A poor scholar serving as an imperial censor.

Stubborn, poor, loves writing impeachments, wants to be an honest official but is afraid of death.

He was finally about to officially enter the room.

I nodded.

"it is good."

Before long, Lu Huaizhou arrived.

He was wearing a faded official robe, was thin, and had some dark circles under his eyes, but his eyes were bright.

His first words upon entering were, "Lord Shen, I heard you've found another account that can be used to embezzle funds from the Ministry of Revenue?"

I looked at him.

"Why is Lord Lu so happy?"

Lu Huaizhou said solemnly, "When an imperial censor hears of a corrupt official, he is like a cat smelling a fish."

Ah Liu whispered, "Are you brave?"

Lu Huaizhou glanced at him.

"I'm afraid of death, but not afraid of writing memorials."

Not bad.

He's a talented person.

I divided the half of the Qinghe account book into several pages for him to copy.

Lu Huaizhou read two lines, his eyes shining even brighter.

"This tent can be used!"

I reminded him, "It can also kill."

He looked up at me.

"Don't worry, Lord Shen, I write quickly."

well.

There are many kinds of people who are afraid of death.

Lu Huaizhou is the type who is afraid of death but quick-handed.

This kind of person is suitable for the Censorate.

Ah Liu almost cried when he finally had someone to share the burden.

Before leaving, Zhao Guanlan whispered to me, "Shen An, half of the account book is true, but the person who delivered it may not have had good intentions."

"I understand."

"Don't make any definitive statements about the Princess's residence."

I nodded.

Don't talk about death.

In the capital, people say that death is a dangerous thing, and that people are more likely to die.

When I left the Censorate with the account book, Deputy Director Feng, and Ah Liu, it was already broad daylight.

Breakfast stalls started serving food on the street, steam rising and the aroma of fried dough sticks filling the air.

Ah Liu stared at the fried dough for a long time.

I bought two tickets.

His eyes almost lit up when he took it.

"Young master, you seem like a kind person today."

"Eat up, then go to the princess's residence to be questioned."

Ah Liu's light went out by half again.

He took a bite of the pancake and whispered, "Young master, sometimes I feel like we're not eating pancakes, we're eating our last meal before we're executed."

I looked in the direction of the princess's residence.

"Don't put it that way."

"What is that?"

"Life-saving cake".

Ah Liu remained silent for a moment.

"It's not much better to listen to."

I didn't say anything more.

Half of the Qinghe account book was pressed into a hidden compartment in the carriage.

It is not heavy.

But it was like a piece of red-hot iron.

Xu Sandao tossed it to me.

The meaning is quite clear.

I've given you the bill.

You can investigate the truth yourself.

"Knife, you answer."

But he didn't deposit it into my account.

What he gave me was evidence that allowed me to continue investigating, but it was also the handle of a knife that could force me to continue toward my wedding day.

My father's patience was almost gone.

The half-ledger I have isn't enough to make him sheathe his sword.