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

Jiu was not imprisoned in the imperial prison. Not because he was innocent. It was because he possessed too many things, and he had to explain the origin of each one. The emperor had a rope strung outside the Changning Palace. Jiu sat inside the rope. I, Baizhi, Mengzhun, and Ducheng sat outside the rope.

Xiao Lingyi entered and glanced at the scene, asking, "Who learned this?" The Emperor replied, "Gu Qinghe." "Father, you've learned it quite well." "Shut up." The father and daughter's relationship had improved considerably recently. At least their cursing was quite natural. The true Imperial Seal was verified.

Weight, texture, old jade veins, lower left notch—all matched. Meng Zhun's hands trembled after examining it. "It's real." The emperor looked at the jade seal but didn't reach for it. "Who touched it?" Jiu answered, "Me." "Anyone else?" "The man the black carriage gave it to me."

"Who?" "I don't know." "Male or female?" "I don't know." Ah Liu, standing by the door, was getting anxious: "You must have seen something, right?" Jiu thought for a moment. "Hands." "What hands?" "Wearing leather gloves. The little finger on the right hand is shorter."

Bai Zhi noted it down. "A voice?" "No one spoke." "Where's the driver?" "We've changed three times." "How did you know to pick him up?" Jiu took a piece of paper from his clothes. It only had one sentence: Third Bridge, Black Carriage, Retrieve the Seal, Return to the Palace. The signature wasn't a name.

Five pinholes. It's that thing again. "You believe it just because it has five holes?" I asked. "I also checked the mission page." His mission page was much simpler than those of Seventeen and Twelve. No parents, no childhood, no left shoulder injury. It only stated: Shen An, Imperial Inspector; can pass through palace gates; can use official post stations; responsible for returning the lost Imperial Seal.

"So you don't need to look like me." "A face will attract more attention." Jiu Dao, "and the cards will be played faster." This makes a lot of sense. If a stranger holds my pass, the gatekeeper will stare at their face. If a "Shen An" looks too much like me, people will want to check several more layers of my identity.

But a censor on urgent business, head bowed, holding the correct token, riding swiftly—as long as he had a genuine token at every checkpoint—no one wanted to be the one to delay the imperial mission. Route 9 used the phrase "afraid of delay" seven times. Both post stations, knowing the travel permit's timing was incorrect, still released it.

One of the palace gatekeepers, knowing I was out of town, only asked one more question. Because the genuine seal was in its box. The box was genuine. The seal was genuine. Everyone felt that it couldn't be that everything was faulty at the same time. After listening, the emperor suddenly asked, "What if I asked you to bring the seal to me now?"

Nine looked at him. He didn't move. "Why?" "I didn't know you were Xiao Jingheng." Silence fell over the outer hall. Ah Liu almost bit his tongue. The Emperor, however, didn't get angry. At least not immediately. "Have you seen me?" "No." "Then who did you deliver the imperial seal to along the way?"

"The Palace Line." "What is the Palace Line?" "There are six verifications." Nine began to speak outwards. Illness. Voice. Words. Road. Seal. Recognizing people. The pharmacy proves whether the emperor is ill. The voice chamber proves whether the emperor has answered. The imperial scribe proves the words and replies.

The palace gates and eunuchs bear witness to the person's location. The Imperial Seal Office verifies the presence of the national seal. Members of the imperial clan or close relatives confirm whether the person before them is indeed the emperor. Once all six are in order, the decree "The Emperor's intention is established" can be written. The emperor's face gradually darkened. Because this system wasn't something the Wang family created out of thin air.

It was something the palace itself had done. When Pei Shen was summoned, he recognized it at a glance. "Six tests were conducted during the late Empress's illness." Xiao Lingyi turned her head. "Mother Empress?" "It was originally to prevent one place from having the final say," Pei Shen said. "Medicine couldn't be proven alone, neither could written records, nor seals. Six places cross-checked."

"And then?" I asked. Pei Shen remained silent. "Later, to prevent leaks, it was opened." The pharmacy didn't know what the voice room had said. The voice room didn't know what the emperor had written. The Imperial Seal Bureau only looked at the seal, not whether the emperor was awake at the time. Each department was only responsible for its own section.

Originally, the six tests involved six people observing each other. Later, it became six people each observing themselves. No one was able to observe everyone. The ninth person said, "Number One learned to recognize people." The emperor asked, "Where is Number One?" "The palace line." "Specifically?" "I don't know."

"What does he look like?" "He doesn't need to look like one." "Why?" "He's not the emperor." Jiu looked at Xiao Jingheng. "He's responsible for proving who the emperor is." This is more troublesome than having someone make an emperor's face. Because a face can only fool one door. A person who is specifically responsible for "identifying the emperor" can make the final conclusion for many doors.

The emperor finally reached out and took the imperial seal before him. He didn't stamp it with anything. He asked Jiu, "What's your name?" "Jiu." "Your official name?" "Shen An." "Will you use it from now on?" Jiu hesitated. I said from the side, "You can decide for yourself, but don't take my salary yet."

Ah Liu chuckled. It was the first time Jiu had looked at me like I was a very strange person. "Then what's my name?" "You're asking me?" "You're Shen An." "So it's even less right for me to name you." He lowered his head. After a long while, he wrote two characters on his statement page.

Shen Lu. "Why is your surname Shen?" Ah Liu asked. "I've used it for many years." "And Lu?" Jiu—who should now be called Shen Lu—glanced at the post station sign beside him. "I can only walk." I didn't say that name was good or bad. At least this time, it wasn't written to him first on the mission page.

"Then who will sign?" "The person who gets the whole page." Bai Zhi and I both looked at the imperial seal on the table. The problem became clear immediately. The nineteen children weren't there to represent one person. They were there to represent different positions. And in the end, as long as someone could piece these positions back together, they could hold up a single page and tell everyone: The Emperor is ill.

Shen An gave the order. Gu Qinghe agreed. Shen Lie was about to mobilize his troops. Every single detail could be pieced together with a sliver of truth. Then, the truth would be pieced together to create an outcome that never happened. Bai Zhi carefully collected Shen Lu's confession. "Find Number One," the Emperor said coldly. "No need to look."

We all looked at him. "Since he's in charge of recognizing me," Xiao Jingheng pushed the imperial seal back into its box. "Let him do it." I suddenly had a bad feeling. The emperor has learned a lot lately. But there's one thing he hasn't changed: he likes to bring danger right in front of him.

The emperor said to send Number One to identify him. The next day, Number One actually came. He didn't walk in on his own. He was carried out of the old chamber of Changning Palace. He was very thin. As thin as a bamboo pole that had been left in the room for a long time. It was hard to tell his age; he looked like he was in his twenties or thirties. His eyes were sensitive to light, and he kept squinting as soon as he was carried to the outer hall.

What was most unsettling was his voice. Like an emperor. Not the Xiao Jingheng of today, who can still curse. But the one from when he was at his worst. Low, hoarse, each word sounded like a stone pressing on his chest. Ah Liu took half a step back from me the moment he heard it.

"Young Master." "Hmm." "Now I know why you don't need to resemble the emperor's face." I know too. Some people never see the emperor's face in their entire lives. Yet, when the emperor speaks to them through a curtain, or when a eunuch transmits his voice through a door, he is even less likely to allow officials to see him when he is ill. A voice, as long as it comes from the right place at the right time, is more like the emperor than a face.

The Emperor sat in the center of the outer hall. Number One sat inside the rope. The two spoke for the first time, asking the same question: "Who are you?" Number One replied, "I don't know." The Emperor asked again, "Your name." "Xiao Jingheng." Ah Liu gasped sharply.

The emperor didn't move. "I'm right here." Number One looked up at him. "There's a conflict of opinion." "How should we handle it?" "Chief Inspector." "Who is the Chief Inspector?" "I don't know." The emperor closed his eyes briefly. That day, for the first time, he truly wanted to kill someone.

I can tell. Because I've been thinking about it too. But thinking is one thing, the rope is still there. Bai Zhi started asking about Number One's training. He only practices three things each day. What day is it? Who's in front of you? What are you discussing right now? The answers must be short. "Accurate."

"No." "I know." "I don't know." The most important thing is not to continue the conversation yourself. Answer one question at a time. The narrower the question, the less likely it is to reveal that he doesn't know the whole story. "When did you start using the name Xiao Jingheng?" I asked.

"Eleven years ago." Xiao Lingyi's fingers tightened. "Eleven years ago?" "The late Empress was ill." Suddenly, no one spoke in the outer hall. Number One wasn't originally there to replace the Emperor. He was the "Awakening Certificate."

When the late Empress was seriously ill, the palace was worried that she was sometimes awake and sometimes delirious, and that if a word she said was heard, no one would know whether she was lucid when she spoke. So, they set up several people behind screens to answer questions and record only what was heard, who was present, and whether it was repeated for confirmation. Number One was one of the children who were trained.

Later, the late Empress died. The certificate of awakening was not abolished. Instead, it was kept by Lady Wang and gradually changed into something else. It changed from "recording what the person said" to "carrying out what the person should say." "Who changed it?" Xiao Lingyi asked.

Number One shook his head. "You only saw the screen?" "Yes." "Have you seen the Empress Dowager?" "No." "Have you seen the Emperor?" "No." The Emperor said coldly, "Very good. Someone who has never seen me can keep me awake for eleven years." Pei Shen lowered his head.

The fact that this system has lasted so long isn't solely due to the Wang family. The imperial court also used it. When the emperor was unconscious, when urgent reports came from the border, or when he couldn't immediately see someone at court, a simple statement like "proof of awakening has been verified" allowed many things to continue. Initially, it was indeed to prevent all government affairs from coming to a standstill.

Later, once people got used to it, no one rushed to ask when the door should be closed. I asked Number One, "Why did you come out today?" "The old sound room is closed." "Who told you to close it?" "Nobody." "Then why?" "The question has changed."

"What question?" "Before, they asked if I was Xiao Jingheng." "And today?" "They asked if I wanted to continue." I was taken aback. "Who asked?" "A page." Bai Zhi immediately looked up: "Give it to me." Number One took out a small folded piece of paper from his sleeve.

The paper was old. It wasn't made in the last few months. There weren't five pinholes on it. There was only one line of text: "If the person is still alive, there's no need to pretend to be dead." There was no name at the end, but there was a very faint phoenix-tail ink mark. When Xiao Lingyi saw it, her face turned pale.

"Mother Empress," the Emperor said without speaking. It was a private notebook used by the late Empress in her younger days. After Zhaoyue arrived, she examined it for a long time, but only dared to write: "Highly consistent with the late Empress's old letters and private notebooks; further verification with the originals is still needed." Number One said, "This paper isn't new."

Eleven years ago, it was tucked among the loose-leaf papers of the nineteen of them. Each person had one. "Then why are you still making them?" Ah Liu asked. Number One thought for a long time. "Later, someone said the pages were fake." "Who?" "I don't know." "You believed it?"

"We were taught that even the dead cannot listen." This statement is somewhat absurd. The late empress was clearly telling them to stop living for the dead. Yet, later generations told them: the person who wrote these words is dead, so they cannot listen. The orders left by the dead can continue to kill.

The dead man's words, "Don't do it for me," were rendered invalid. I looked at the emperor. He was also looking at the paper. "How many people still have it?" I asked. "Nineteen through one." "Are they all still alive?" "I don't know." "Do you know who they are?"

Number one, start reporting. Three, study medicine. Five, study clothing and palace ladies-in-waiting. Nine, study roads. Twelve, study military affairs. Seventeen, study science. Eighteen, study corpses. "And you?" "One." "Study the emperor?" He shook his head. "Study being awake."

This answer left me speechless for a long time. A child isn't taught from a young age how to become an emperor. He's taught how to prove to others that the person sitting high above is still awake. Then, step by step, he's pushed to become that person himself. The emperor suddenly asked, "What do you want to be called?"

Number One didn't answer. "Don't know again?" "Yes." "Then let's leave it at that." Everyone looked at the Emperor. He himself seemed unaccustomed to those words coming out of his mouth. After a while, Number One asked, "May I go out?"

"Where to?" the Emperor asked. "To see the river." "Why?" "The copper pipes in the sound chamber are too narrow." Ah Liu asked me in a low voice, "Is that a reason?" "Yes." "Which river to go to?" Number One thought for a long time. "Any river will do." I picked up a blank page.

"Shall we choose a temporary name first?" He looked out the window. There was a drainage ditch right outside Changning Palace, and beyond that was the Imperial River. "Ahe," he said. The Emperor frowned: "So casual?" Ahe looked at him: "Does a name have to be special?"

The emperor didn't answer. I almost laughed. A person who had just come out of the sound chamber, and on his very first day, he had already managed to shut the emperor up. His future might be bright. Bai Zhi, however, didn't laugh. She rewrote the old numbering of the nineteen loose-leaf pages onto the paper. Nineteen squares. Now we've only truly seen three Shen Ans and one Ahe.

The other fifteen squares still contain people, or people who once were. In one square, Bai Zhi made two dots with her pen. "Number three." "What is it?" "Pharmacy." She looked at the old page of the late Empress. "The third dose." My heart sank.

Some people break down the emperor into six things. Eleven years ago, the late empress, before her death, also had hers broken down. The next thread isn't at the palace gates. It's in the medicine.