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

I was woken up by Ah Liu before dawn.

To be precise, it wasn't about waking up.

I was startled awake.

He was banging on the door from the outside, as if the Ministry of Justice had come to raid the house.

"Young master! Young master! It's dawn!"

I opened my eyes and found myself asleep on the desk, half a page of a Ministry of Revenue folding paper pressed against my face. When I looked up, the edge of the paper had left a mark on my face, and it still hurt a little to the touch.

I sat for a while before I remembered what I had seen last night.

Yong'an County.

Liugou Village.

Fang Deshun.

The village, which was merged three years ago, still has disaster victims receiving food in its accounts.

well.

The Ministry of Revenue doesn't even spare ghosts.

I opened the door, and Ah Liu was standing outside with a hot water bottle; his eyes were also a little swollen.

"You didn't sleep last night?"

Ah Liu looked miserable.

"I was asleep, but I dreamt that Master Sandao was standing at the head of my bed with a knife, asking when my sword would be drawn. I said I didn't know, and he asked when my head would be moved."

I washed my face.

A splash of cold water sobered me up considerably.

"It's just a dream."

Ah Liu muttered under his breath, "Young Master, what's happening around you now that isn't more terrifying than a dream?"

That's true.

I changed into my official robes and put the short blade back into the hidden pocket under my wrist.

Qiu Tang's words from last night, "the cuffs of the dress should be narrowed," are still swirling in my mind.

The princess's residence is already looking at my sleeves.

The Ministry of Rites might also take a look.

Needless to say, Xu Sandao was another one.

This knife I have now is a disaster whether I keep it on my person or leave it behind.

Carrying it is like carrying a silent piece of evidence of a crime.

Not wearing it feels like handing your neck to someone else after washing it clean.

I brought it in the end.

When it comes to valuing life, one cannot rely solely on reason.

We still need a knife.

Before I left, Ah Liu handed me a hot pancake.

"Young master, please have some. You ate half a piece yesterday."

I glanced at him.

"Why are you being so considerate today?"

Ah Liu sighed.

"I've figured it out. If you faint from hunger at the Ministry of Revenue, I'll have to carry you back. Your official robes are so thick now, I can't carry you."

I took the pancake and took a bite.

The scallion oil is still hot.

This made me think a little more highly of Ah Liu.

Only a little higher.

The Censorate was not yet fully awake; a thin mist clung to the ground in the courtyard. Zhao Guanlan was already waiting for me in the official residence.

The first thing he said to me when he saw me was, "Did you sleep last night?"

I said, "I slept through half a page of paper."

He didn't understand.

I handed him the page of the Ministry of Revenue I had circled last night.

Zhao Guanlan took it and looked down at it.

"Liugou Village, Yong'an County?"

"This village was relocated three years ago."

Zhao Guanlan frowned.

How do you know?

"Fang Yuanshi mentioned it in old documents. The Yongning River was rerouted, and Liugou Village was relocated to the area outside the North Dike. The village's records should have been merged into the new register long ago, and the old name should no longer appear."

Zhao Guanlan stared at the line of words, his expression gradually changing.

When investigating cases in the imperial court, the worst thing is to find no clues.

But as long as there is a small opening, even as small as a pinhole, water will seep out on its own.

I said, "If it were just a clerk making a mistake, that would be fine. But under the Liugou Village section, there are seven disaster-stricken households who received 21 dou of grain, equivalent to 1 tael and 4 mace of silver, and three temporary shelters. The silver, grain, and shelters all match up."

Zhao Guanlan said, "It would be wrong if it matched."

I nodded.

"It's easy to copy an old village name incorrectly. But if you include all the disaster victims, grain, silver, and charity shelters under that old village name, it doesn't look like a mistake."

It's more like someone used old household registrations to create a group of disaster victims.

They built it so easily that they forgot the village shouldn't have been in its original location a long time ago.

Zhao Guanlan was silent for a moment, then said, "When we go to the Ministry of Revenue today, don't mention Liugou Village first."

I looked at him.

"First, see what kind of bill they give you."

An old censor is an old censor.

If we expose the flaws at this point, the Ministry of Revenue will at most say that there was a mistake in the copying, and they can quickly correct all the old names later.

To catch them, we must first see what they themselves are offering.

At 1:15 AM, I took Ah Liu to the Ministry of Revenue.

Yan Xiaoyi appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the doorway yawning, a knife hanging from his waist, a strand of hair sticking up.

He saw me and lazily raised his eyes.

"He didn't die last night?"

I said, "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Yan Xiaoyi followed, yawning.

"Not disappointed. If you died, I'd still have to write reports, what a hassle."

Ah Liu whispered from the side, "Master Yan, could you say something auspicious? Our young master is getting married in ten days."

Yan Xiaoyi looked at him.

"Dying before the wedding is even more troublesome. The wedding tent has to be demolished and converted into a mourning tent, so the labor costs are split between the two."

Ah Liu silently shut up.

I think the emperor placed Yan Xiaoyi by my side for another purpose besides protecting me.

Train my heart.

The Ministry of Revenue was located on the east side of the Imperial City, and its gate tower was much more spacious than that of the Censorate. In the early morning, officials would come and go, their carriages and sedan chairs parked outside. At a glance, they were all impeccably dressed and walked with unhurried steps.

The people here are quite different from those in the Ministry of Works.

The Minister of Works always had a bit of a wooden, stone, mud, and ash smell about him.

The Ministry of Revenue is different.

The people in the Ministry of Revenue smelled of abacus beads.

Even a glance at you is like an estimate of your worth.

The gatekeeper had already received the news, and when he saw me coming, he smiled and bowed.

"Imperial Censor Shen, Vice Minister Zheng is already waiting in the inner hall."

I smiled.

Thank you for your trouble.

Ah Liu followed behind me, lowering his voice: "Young Master, why are they smiling even more politely than the people from the Qian family?"

I said, "Because they are richer than the Qian family."

Ah Liu immediately became solemn.

Upon entering the inner hall of the Ministry of Revenue, Zheng Huaien was indeed already waiting.

He wore a scarlet official robe, was slightly plump, had a fair complexion and no beard, and had fine lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. On the table was tea, which smelled very strong, and two plates of snacks.

If I hadn't known I was there to investigate the disaster relief fund case, I would have easily thought I was just visiting.

Zheng Huaien stood up.

"Lord Shen."

I returned the courtesy.

"Minister Zheng."

He laughed and said, "In the Yongning River case, Lord Shen became famous overnight. Now that His Majesty has ordered Lord Shen to investigate the disaster relief accounts in Jiangbei, the Ministry of Revenue will naturally cooperate fully."

We will fully cooperate.

After hearing these four characters so many times, I can now translate them automatically.

It means: I'll give you everything I can, and you'd better not ask about things I can't give you.

After I sat down, Zheng Huaien personally poured me tea.

"Please, Lord Shen."

The tea soup was clear and bright, with steam rising gently.

I didn't drink it.

The first rule of investigating a case is: don't drink hot tea offered by others.

Especially when the other person is smiling very kindly.

Zheng Huaien acted as if he hadn't seen me, and simply pushed a stack of account books in front of me.

"This is the general register of disaster relief for the three prefectures north of the Yangtze River. After the imperial decree was issued last night, I ordered someone to make a new copy for Lord Shen's convenience."

I reached out and pressed down on the cover of the ledger.

Recopy it.

Easy to access.

I chuckled to myself.

See, the clean tent has come on its own.

I turned to the first page.

It's exactly the same as the folding paper the emperor gave me last night.

The number of disaster victims, the amount of relief grain, and the amount of silver allocated were all arranged so precisely that the line spacing looked as if they had been measured with a ruler.

The head of the Ministry of Revenue stood to the side, head bowed and eyes downcast, holding several ledgers in his hands.

Zheng Huaien said, "If Lord Shen wishes to see the original volume, that is also possible. However, the original volume is in the archives, and it needs to be retrieved according to the regulations of the Ministry of Revenue, which will take some time."

I looked up.

"how long?"

Zheng Huaien smiled and said, "Three to five days."

Ah Liu took a soft breath behind me.

Three to five days.

The disaster victims starved to death, enough to bury several batches in three to five days.

The ledger is being updated; in three to five days, a new father could be born.

I laughed too.

"No rush."

Zheng Huaien's eyes flickered slightly.

He probably didn't expect me to be so easy to talk to.

I continued, "Copybooks are also acceptable. I am new to the Ministry of Revenue and dare not break the rules."

Zheng Huaien's smile deepened.

"You're too kind, Lord Shen."

I looked down and flipped through the accounts.

Volume One, General Allocation by the Ministry of Revenue.

Volume Two: The Takeover of the Three Prefectures of Jiangbei.

Volume Three: Grain Disbursement from the Charitable Granary.

Volume Four: Funding for Soup Dishes

Volume 5, Medical Herbs for the Clinic.

Volume Six: Relocation of Disaster Victims.

All six volumes are complete.

They were so neat and tidy that I wanted to applaud them.

I translated very slowly.

The official in charge of the Ministry of Revenue, who was standing to the side, couldn't help but switch feet twice.

Zheng Huaien remained composed, sitting to the side sipping tea, occasionally asking, "Does Lord Shen have any questions?"

I said, "Not at the moment."

This is true.

There are things that are unclear.

It's too obvious.

It's as clear as if someone is standing by the well with a lantern, smiling and saying to you, "No one has died in this well. Look how clear the water is."

When I turned to the volume about grain distribution from the granary, my finger paused for a moment.

The grain distribution from the granary was calculated based on the number of disaster victims, with each person receiving two measures of rice per day for thirty days. The elderly and sick received additional porridge and grain.

At first glance, there seems to be no problem.

But the problem lies in adding four extra characters to the elderly patient household registration.

There were 29,628 disaster victims in the three prefectures north of the Yangtze River, with the elderly, sick, and young children listed separately.

There are 3,216 elderly people.

There are 1,477 patients.

4,009 young children.

The number of people is not impossible to count.

However, after the disaster, the resettlement of displaced people resulted in scattered household registrations. If local officials could accurately count the elderly, sick, and young children, it would be impossible unless the disaster victims lined up one by one to report their age and illness to the Ministry of Revenue.

I turned the lid onto the firewood tent in the soup kitchen.

Firewood consumption remains low.

It's so low it makes me want to laugh.

I looked up and asked, "Minister Zheng, are the firewoods used in the soup kitchens of the three prefectures north of the Yangtze River wet or dry?"

Zheng Huaien was taken aback.

They probably didn't expect my first question to be about firewood.

He chuckled, "I haven't looked at this closely yet. Manager Ma?"

The official in charge of the Ministry of Revenue who was standing nearby hurried forward.

"Reporting to Lord Shen, the soup kitchens mainly use locally sourced dry firewood, with some old firewood from the official granary as well."

I nodded.

"Dry firewood is good; it burns brightly."

Manager Ma smiled obsequiously.

"Exactly."

I asked again, "There are 387 soup kitchens in the three prefectures, with three pots per day, each pot serving 100 people, enough to last 30 days. Is this all the money you have for firewood?"

The smile on Manager Ma's face froze for a moment.

Zheng Huaien put down his teacup.

"Does Lord Shen think there's something wrong with the firewood register?"

I said gently, "I wouldn't dare. I'm just used to being poor and am rather sensitive about the cost of firewood."

Ah Liu almost couldn't hold back his emotions.

Zheng Huaien smiled.

"When local people provide disaster relief, many gentry donate firewood, but not all of it goes into the government's accounts."

"I see."

I lowered my head and made a mental note of it.

Local gentry donated firewood.

well.

This explanation is the best.

There wasn't enough grain, but the local gentry donated it.

There wasn't enough medicine, so the people gathered it themselves.

The money didn't go through; the local government covered it.

Officials especially appreciate this kind of intangible kindness.

I flipped to the medicine herb account again.

The inscription at Shimen Prefecture in Jiangbei states that at the onset of the epidemic, the Ministry of Revenue allocated 300 taels of silver for medicinal materials.

However, the list of medicinal herbs is pitifully short for Coptis chinensis, Bupleurum chinense, Atractylodes lancea, and Pogostemon cablin, while items like An Shen Xiang (安神香) and Su He Wan (苏合丸) are listed more frequently.

The disaster victims are suffering from an epidemic, and what they lack is medicine.

The tent, however, seemed to be used to calm the nerves of a wealthy family.

I closed the herbal medicine booklet and asked, "How many people died from the epidemic in Shimen Prefecture?"

Ma, the steward, immediately replied, "The Ministry of Revenue's register clearly states that the epidemic has not spread and there have been no major deaths."

"Does the absence of a major epidemic mean there were deaths from a minor epidemic?"

Manager Ma got stuck.

Zheng Huaien picked up the conversation, still smiling: "Lord Shen, local wording is sometimes conservative. The statement that there have been no major deaths from the plague means that it has not yet become a plague disaster."

I nodded.

"clear."

Another stroke.

Even the number of dead can be reduced through wording.

I continued flipping to the register of relocated disaster victims.

Finally, we saw Liugou Village in Yong'an County.

However, Liugou Village was missing from this copy of the Ministry of Revenue's records.

replaced by:

New households on the north bank of Yong'an County.

My eyelids twitched slightly.

Last night, the emperor's letter to me still mentioned Liugou Village.

This morning, the Ministry of Revenue copied the register, and it has already been changed to the new household registration at Beidi.

The action is fast.

It was so fast it didn't seem like a last-minute copying error.

It was as if they knew all along that this place would be seen.

I didn't speak immediately.

I just glanced at that page a couple more times.

Zheng Huaien noticed this and asked with a smile, "Lord Shen, is there a problem with this page?"

I looked up and smiled even more politely than he did.

"No. It's just that you have good handwriting."

Zheng Huaien's smile remained unchanged.

"The clerks in the Ministry of Revenue, I dare not say about anything else, but they are always meticulous in copying account books."

I nodded.

"I can tell."

carefulness.

That's too detailed.

They were so meticulous that they changed the ghost's name overnight.

It was past noon when I left the Ministry of Revenue.

Ah Liu held his breath the whole way, only daring to breathe again once he stepped outside.

"Young master, the Ministry of Revenue is more intimidating than the Ministry of Works."

I asked, "What's scary about it?"

"You can tell that the people in the Ministry of Works are guilty, but the people in the Ministry of Revenue are all smiling when they're guilty."

Yan Xiaoyi leaned against the door and said lazily, "Killing someone with a smile is more expensive than killing someone with a glare."

Ah Liu shrank back when he heard this.

I glanced back at the gate of the Ministry of Revenue.

The plaque hangs high above the door, with neat and upright characters.

All the nation's money and grain come from here.

They can all disappear from here.

I whispered, "They changed the accounts last night."

Ah Liu was startled.

"what?"

"Liugou Village is gone."

"Isn't that a good thing? It means they're scared."

I shook my head.

"It's not that I'm afraid. It's that some people know I'm watching over Liugou Village."

Ah Liu's face turned pale.

Yan Xiaoyi finally stopped yawning and glanced at me.

"Did someone around you leak it?"

"It doesn't necessarily have to be someone next to me."

I remembered the wax pellet that rolled in through the window last night.

I recalled the figure at the alley entrance that resembled Xu Sandao.

I also recalled the memorial the emperor gave me, which passed through the eyes of countless people from the palace to the Censorate, and finally into my hands.

The accounting committee's reach extended into the road where Qian Rong was being escorted.

Naturally, this influence could also extend into the Ministry of Revenue, the palace, and even the Censorate.

Just as I was about to get on the bus, a ragged child suddenly rushed out from the street corner and knelt down in front of the bus with a thud.

Ah Liu was so frightened he almost jumped up.

"Ouch!"

The child was about seven or eight years old, his face so thin that only his eyes were visible, and his hair was a mess, stuck to his forehead. He was clutching a wooden plaque tightly in his hand, the edges of which were worn black.

The Ministry of Revenue bailiffs at the gate immediately shouted, "Where did this little beggar come from! Get out of the way!"

The child didn't roll away.

He looked up at me, his lips chapped.

"Your Honor, my mother said that Lord Shen of the Censorate is good at reading accounts."

My eyes narrowed.

The entrance to the household registration office suddenly fell silent.

Zheng Huaien hadn't gone far.

He stood on the steps and looked back.

The child held up the wooden sign in his hand.

"My father collected the grain from the account."

His voice was very soft, yet it was like a needle pricking one's ear.

"But my father died last year."

I looked down at the disaster relief sign.

Two characters are engraved on the back of the wooden sign.

Yong'an.

A name is engraved on the front.

Fang Deshun.

I saw this name in the Ministry of Revenue's archives just last night.

Fang Deshun, aged sixty-seven, was from Liugou Village, Yong'an County.

He received three dou of relief grain, equivalent to two qian of silver, and was relocated to a charity shelter in the south of the city.

Everything is going well in the account.

In reality, he died last year.

I suddenly laughed.

That laugh was rather inappropriate.

But I couldn't help it.

The Ministry of Revenue's accounts are definitely not written for living people.

It was used to collect food for the dead.