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

The old monk stood in the shadow of the bell tower.

He was holding half a sheet of paper in his hand.

The corners of the paper are yellowed, the edges are uneven, and there is a slanted stamp indicating that the inner warehouse has received the paper.

I stared at the half-sheet of paper, my heart racing.

If this thing is real, then Qian Rong's line for "the Ministry of Works' treasury silver temporarily suspended in the inner warehouse" can be closed.

The Ministry of Works approved the issuance of 800 taels of silver.

Yongfeng's three cabinets were washed into silver notes.

The deputy clerk recorded the transfer of funds.

The internal warehouse receipt proves that no actual goods were put into storage; it was merely a record entry.

Once the account was closed, Qian Rong's actions were no longer merely a matter of oversight.

He was the one who personally sent the Ministry of Works' treasury funds into the black market.

But the old monk held the paper in his hand, his expression calm.

He was as calm as if he held not deadly evidence, but a vegetarian recipe.

I looked up and asked, "What is the Master's Dharma name?"

The old monk said, "Huiming."

"Master Huiming, has someone offered three hundred taels for this half-sheet of paper?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Wearing a straw hat, dressed in gray, and speaking in a low voice, he doesn't seem like a good person."

Yan Xiaoyi whispered from the side, "Listen to this, even a monk knows he's not a good person."

I ignored him.

"Six fingers on your left hand?"

Huiming shook his head.

"I didn't see it."

"When did he arrive?"

"Half an hour ago."

In other words, we had just left the Censorate when the paper buyers arrived at Ci'en Temple.

The news spread faster than incense could burn.

I said, "Master, you didn't sell them because you thought there weren't enough?"

Huiming clasped his hands together in prayer.

"This humble monk is not greedy for money."

I looked at him.

Huiming added, "But three hundred taels is indeed too little."

Feng Baoquan coughed anxiously beside him.

"Master! That's my reply!"

Huiming glanced at him.

"Benefactor Feng, when you hid the paper at the base of the bell tower, you didn't say it was yours."

Feng Baoquan's face turned bright red.

"I was doing that to save my life!"

"This humble monk is also."

Upon hearing this, I suddenly understood.

Huiming doesn't simply want money.

He was afraid.

Ci'en Temple has become entangled in too many things.

Fang Zhoushi, the princess's carriage, the gray-robed tent bearer, Feng Baoquan, and the inner treasury receipt.

If he hands the paper over to me, Qian Rong's men, Ji Qing's men, and the people clearing the accounts might all use Ci'en Temple as the next old warehouse.

It wasn't that the old monk didn't want to give it.

He wanted to know if I could save him.

I asked, "What does the master want?"

Huiming looked at me.

"Can Lord Shen guarantee the safety of everyone at Ci'en Temple?"

I paused for a moment.

No.

I can't even guarantee that I'll survive tonight.

Huiming smiled.

"Lord Shen is indeed honest."

"I can take this half of the paper to the Golden Hall," I said. "Once it sees the light, those who want to destroy Ci'en Temple will not dare to act rashly."

"What if it can't see the light of day?"

"Then I'll die first."

Huiming sighed, "Lord Shen's words sound less like a promise and more like bad luck."

Yan Xiaoyi nodded.

"really."

I glared at him.

Huiming slowly walked down from the clock tower.

He is not young, but his steps are very steady.

When he came to me, he didn't give me the paper right away, but handed it to Feng Baoquan.

"Benefactor Feng, please take a look."

Feng Baoquan took it with trembling hands, and his eyes reddened after just one glance.

"It's this one."

I asked, "What does that prove?"

Feng Baoquan coughed a few times and said, "This is the receipt from the inner warehouse material storage room. If it's a normal receipt, the stamp should be complete, and the name of the clerk in the inner warehouse material storage room, the actual amount received, and the warehouse door number should be added below."

I looked at the paper.

Sure enough, only half a seal remained on the half receipt.

There is a line of fragmented characters next to the seal:

...Yongning replenishment, received...

The line breaks below.

Why did you only stamp half of the seal?

"They forced me to print it. I deliberately made my hand shake and printed it off-center, then tore off a corner, saying I had to go back to the warehouse to reprint it." Feng Baoquan's voice trembled. "If this one had been printed completely, the inner warehouse would have become a place for them to launder their money."

"Have the stones been stored in the inner warehouse?"

"no."

"What about the silver?"

"No, not at all."

"Why does the receipt say 'received'?"

Feng Baoquan lowered his head.

"Because Ji Qing had an old document from the Secretariat, saying it was the order from above."

The old document plaque of the Central Secretariat.

These are the same words again.

Huiming took the paper back and held it between his two fingers.

"Lord Shen, this humble monk may hand over the paper to you."

I cupped my hands in greeting.

"Master, please state your conditions."

"First, Ci'en Temple is not included in the 'Zuizi' (a type of ancient Chinese book).

"That won't do."

Huiming was taken aback.

I said, "The receipt is hidden in Ci'en Temple. If it's not written in the folding book, the origin of the receipt will be unclear. If the origin is unclear, Qian Rong will insist it's a forgery, and the paper will be useless."

Huiming looked at me.

I continued, "I can write it in a lighter style. I'll only write that Feng Baoquan temporarily stayed at Ci'en Temple to avoid trouble, and that the receipt was hidden at the base of the bell tower. As for other things that happened in the temple, I won't go into detail."

Huiming thought for a moment.

"Secondly, if anyone asks about the three hundred taels, Lord Shen cannot say that this humble monk finds it too little."

I was silent.

Yan Xiaoyi turned her head, and her shoulder seemed to twitch.

I said, "That's fine."

Huiming then handed me the receipt.

I accepted it with both hands.

The paper is very light.

But the moment I held it in my hand, I felt my whole arm become heavy.

That's the weight of evidence.

I took out the oil paper and sealed it.

Just then, Yan Xiaoyi suddenly looked up.

"Someone has posted this on the wall."

Huiming's expression changed.

Outside the clock tower, the night wind paused for a moment.

Immediately afterwards, several dark figures climbed over the courtyard wall.

Gray clothes.

Short knife.

The movements were extremely fast.

Huiming closed his eyes and uttered a Buddhist prayer.

"This humble monk knew that three hundred taels of silver wasn't for buying paper, but for buying one's life."

I stuffed the receipt into my pocket and took a step back.

Yan Xiaoyi stood in front of me.

Feng Baoquan was so frightened that his legs went weak.

I grabbed his collar and pushed him behind the clock tower.

"Hide well."

He stammered, "Can I not hide here?"

"Where do you think you're hiding?"

"Even a coffin is more secure than this."

"Then they have to die first."

Feng Baoquan fell silent.

Without a word, the man in gray rushed into my arms and gave me the receipt.

This time, their goal was very clear.

It's not about killing me.

It's about stealing paper.

Yan Xiaoyi used his short stick to block the two of them.

Another person circled around to the side, the blade flashing past the pillar.

I sprinkled out the lime powder that Ah Liu had just given me.

White ash flew up.

The man was clearly prepared, raising his sleeve to cover his eyes, but his steps were still a beat too slow.

I took the opportunity to push Feng Baoquan down the stairs.

"Go up!"

"Wouldn't going up there just mean certain death?"

"Chung Tai".

"what?"

I didn't explain.

There is a large bell in the bell tower of Ci'en Temple.

When the bell tolls, the entire temple awakens.

The man in gray wanted to quietly snatch the receipt, but I wouldn't let them be quiet.

I dragged Feng Baoquan upstairs.

Behind me, the sounds of knives, clubs, and vibrating wooden pillars mingled together.

Yan Xiaoyi cursed:

"Lord Shen, slow down!"

I ran back as I spoke:

"I've never experienced anything so fast in my life!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than another gray shadow appeared at the top of the stairs ahead.

I paused in my steps.

It’s over.

There were people both in front and behind.

Feng Baoquan was so frightened that he stopped coughing.

The man in gray raised his knife and charged at me.

I clutched the receipt tightly to my chest, with only one thought in my mind.

This half of the paper must not be dropped.

It cannot be burned.

It cannot be cleared anymore.

Just as the blade was about to strike, a muffled thud came from upstairs.

A bell-ringing wooden stick swept down from above, striking the gray-clad man squarely in the chest.

The man in gray screamed and fell down the stairs.

The old monk Huiming stood on the stairs, his hands clasped together.

"Amitabha Buddha, when I was young, I also rang the bell."

I looked at him.

The bell struck perfectly.