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

After the Imperial Seal was lost, my first reaction wasn't to chase after it. It was to sit down. Ah Liu looked at me, clearly feeling that sitting down at this moment was inappropriate. "Young Master, aren't you going to chase after it?" "Chase what?" "The Seal." "Which way?" He opened his mouth, but then fell silent.

Those in the palace who could swap the real imperial seal from the Imperial Seal Bureau had even prepared a fake weight register. Rushing out on horseback now would probably only make me appear anxious; it would serve no other purpose. I laid out the three draft edicts that had been seized in Jing'an again.

The first document states that Princess Zhaoning will temporarily reside in the Jingyuan (Quiet Residence) of the Imperial Clan Court. The second document states that Censor Shen An's investigation will be suspended. The third document states that the original public accounts of Yong'an, Qingxia, and Jiangbei will all be transferred to the capital for review. The first two documents are still on the table. The third document is gone. Xiao Lingyi, standing behind me, saw this and pointed to the third empty seat.

"So the Imperial Seal wasn't used to imprison me." " Nor was it used to stop me from leaving." "It was used to move the accounts." "Hmm." This is actually more troublesome than murder. The person is dead, but the body remains. If the accounts are moved from Yong'an to the capital, with each page replaced along the way, a signature removed, and a certain confession removed, the final contents delivered to the court will still be 90% true.

Nine-tenths true is often more effective than ten-tenths false. The emperor leaned back in his chair, his face pale. Not from illness, but from anger. "Issue the decree," he said. I looked at him: "What will you use to cover it?" His face darkened further. Ah Liu lowered his head, his shoulders trembling. I felt he was suppressing a laugh, but I had no proof.

In the end, what was sent out was not an imperial edict, but four warning letters. One was sent to the capital, one to Yong'an, one to Qingzhou, and one to Qingxia. The content was simple: the Imperial Seal had been confirmed stolen; from this moment on, any document requesting the movement or release of the original, troop mobilization, or city lockdown based on the genuine seal must be verified again to determine whether the person was conscious at the time, whether the authorization was still valid, and why the matter had to be done.

The Emperor signed after stating "I am sober." I signed after stating "Shen An has not been detained." Xiao Lingyi signed after stating "Zhao Ning has not been imprisoned." Bai Zhi looked it over and asked, "What about Gu Qinghe?" "Yong An wrote it himself." "Shen Lie?"

"Qingxia will write it himself." If the same matter isn't addressed from a single source, at least someone who wants to cut out one letter will have to travel several more routes. Just as the letter was sent, Du Cheng suddenly spoke up: "What if the third edict has already arrived?" The room fell silent for a moment.

I've been thinking about this too. It takes two and a half days by fast horse from the capital to Yong'an. By the time we discovered the imperial seal was stolen, the thief had likely already been gone a day. I looked at the emperor. "Your Majesty, I must go to Yong'an." "I know." "This time, will you not issue me an imperial edict?"

"You really want it?" "No." The emperor took out a private seal from his sleeve, pressed it onto a travel permit page, and then added a line below it: This page is for Shen An's use only; it may not be used to mobilize troops, seal off cities, arrest people, or move documents. After reading it, I felt a little emotional.

"Now, when His Majesty grants power, he always casually writes a clause prohibiting certain actions." "Get out." "I haven't left the palace yet." "Then get out quickly." As I left Changning Palace, Xiao Lingyi followed me out. She didn't say she wanted to come with me. This was quite unusual.

"You're staying in the capital?" I asked. "The Imperial Seal is lost. Father can't be surrounded by just a bunch of people who say 'Yes, Your Majesty.'" "That makes sense." "Besides, you're going to Yong'an." She looked at me. "Your mother is there." "So?" "It's not my place to claim a son for you."

Something about this sounded off to me. Ah Liu had already brought the horse, and Bai Zhi stood outside the palace gate carrying the inspection kit. Just before mounting her horse, Xiao Lingyi suddenly asked me, "What if there really is a 'you' in Yong'an?" "What do you mean by 'a 'me''?" "Someone who looks like you. Someone who writes like you. Someone who knows about your childhood. Someone who holds your seal."

"That's troublesome." "Would you kill him?" I thought for a moment. "First ask him what he did." "What if he didn't do anything?" "Then don't do it for him yet." She glanced at me and didn't say anything more. We headed south. The first urgent report from Yong'an arrived that very night.

The imperial edict-delivery team has arrived. There are twelve people in total, representing the Secretariat, the Court of Imperial Clan Affairs, the Imperial Seal Office, and the Censorate. Their identities have been verified. The seal on the edict is genuine. They also carry a transfer order from the Censorate, signed by me, and bearing the seal of my former patrol officer.

The deputy seal was genuine. It had long been abolished. My mother didn't let them into the old granary; she only strung a rope across the gate. Twelve people, four empty carriages carrying official documents, and the genuine imperial edict were all inside the rope. The onlookers were all outside. Upon seeing this in the urgent report, I breathed a sigh of relief.

The next line, and he swallowed that last bit of anger again. A young man then entered through the north gate. He was in his early twenties, about my height, wearing the official robes of the Censorate, with the deputy censor's seal hanging from his waist, and a scar on his left shoulder. He said his name was Shen An. Ah Liu, having read this far, looked up at me.

"Young Master." "Hmm." "Is your name being used by quite a few people lately?" "I think so too." The urgent report was followed by a note added by her mother. She didn't arrest anyone, nor did she identify anyone. She only asked the young man one question: "What did you eat when you got home after your first murder?"

The man thought for a moment. He answered, "Noodles." Seeing this, my hand stopped. Ah Liu leaned closer: "Wrong?" "Wrong." "Then it's fake?" "It can't be this fast." After my first murder, I didn't even go home.

I sat in a dilapidated temple outside the city all night that day, and was not found by my father's men until the next day. My mother knew about this. So she didn't ask me what I liked to eat. She asked: When a person doesn't know the answer, would they force themselves to give the answer that most closely resembles the answer?

The young man added the "noodles." It made perfect sense. And precisely because it was so reasonable, it didn't seem like something that had actually happened to me that day. The second letter arrived the following morning. My mother changed the question. "Where did I ask Shen An to stand before I left Yong'an for the last time?"

The man didn't answer immediately this time. He asked first, "Which time did you leave?" His mother said, "The most recent time." He replied, "Beside the tent." Ah Liu's eyes lit up: "That's right." "Yes." "Then is he real?" "No, not really."

"Why?" I handed him the letter. My mother had only written one sentence at the back: "If it can be deduced, don't make a private testimony. 'Next to the account' isn't a secret. My mother has said this too many times in the past few months. As long as you read enough of what she's said publicly, you can deduce it."

After answering incorrectly the first time, that person learned to ask for conditions first. He was changing. Or rather, he was always taught to be this way. When he didn't know, he would fill in the blanks first. If he made a mistake filling in the blanks once, he would find a more reliable way to fill in the blanks next time. The third letter came even later.

The mother didn't ask about his childhood again. She asked, "The imperial edict orders you to move the original document from Yong'an. How do you plan to do it?" The other party answered well. Six copies were made. Each cart was locked with three locks. Inspection stations were set up along the way. Upon arrival in the capital, the boxes were opened simultaneously by witnesses from the Secretariat, the Censorate, the Court of Imperial Clan Affairs, and Jiangbei.

His thinking might not have been as thorough as mine on the spot. My mother only asked one question: "Why do you have to move it?" The man remained silent. Because the original documents were still in Yong'an; there had been no fire, no theft, and no immediate reason to move them. The method was excellent.

There was no reason. I finished reading it and folded the letter. Bai Zhi, who was riding beside me, suddenly said, "Your mother is better at asking questions than you are." "She gave birth to me." "That statement has no evidentiary connection." "Miss Bai." "Hmm?" "The journey is tiring." She finally shut up.

On the afternoon of the third day, the Yong'an city gate appeared at the end of the road. I didn't go through the north gate. The other Shen An entered through the north gate, while I went through the south gate. The guard at the south gate saw my face, his hand already on the hilt of his sword, but he didn't immediately salute. "Name." "Shen An."

His face darkened further. "There's already one in the city." "I know." "How can you prove you're the real one?" I thought for a moment. "The proof isn't complete yet." The guard was stunned. Ah Liu whispered from behind, "Young master, it'll be difficult for you to enter the city like this."

"Therefore, the travel permit must be verified." The living witness in the capital reported that the emperor was still lucid; the Secretariat checked the travel document number; the Yong'an County government checked my horse-changing records along the way. Once all three verifications were complete, the city gates opened. After entering the city, many people followed me on the streets. No one shouted "Zhen Shen'an!"

No one shouted "It's fake." That's good. In front of the old granary, Mother sat under three grain debt plaques. Another version of myself stood inside the rope circle. At first glance, it didn't look like a mirror. At second glance, it felt a little uncomfortable. My brow bone, shoulder width, posture, even the position of my thumb on the knife handle when my right hand hung naturally, all looked like someone had taken me apart, recorded my faults, and then reassembled me.

He saw me but didn't draw his sword. He only asked, "Are you Shen An?" I looked at him. "I use that name." My mother looked up and glared at me. "Don't imitate him." "Oh." The person in the rope smiled for the first time. Then, he took out an old, yellowed piece of paper from his pocket.

Five pinholes were visible in the corner of the paper. At the top was written: Original Name, Shen An. Below that was another line: Username: Seventeen. Suddenly, it dawned on me. This wasn't another fake Shen An. Someone had been raising him for years, waiting for the day—to turn me into a fake.