A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

Now that Yang Hu has become a medical officer, he has a legitimate reason to investigate the hidden ditch.

As the assistant in charge of the medical care for the entire battalion's wounded and sick, it was natural for him to take stock of the battalion's medical supplies. This was the duty of a medical officer, and no one could find fault with it.

On this day, Yang Hu, under the pretext of assisting in the management of the entire camp's medicine, took Qin Ying, who was disguised as a medicine boy, and went to the quartermaster's warehouse under the guise of "inventorying medicine and checking losses".

This was the duty of the medical officer, and even the hand hidden in the shadows couldn't find a reason to stop it.

When Zhao, the weasel-faced squad leader, saw Zhao's new look as a medical officer, his expression changed repeatedly.

Previously, Yang Hu was just a military doctor, and he dared to complain about being poor, make excuses, and give half-hearted warnings about the "deep waters" in military supplies. Now that Yang Hu has become the assistant medical officer in charge of the entire camp's medicine, and has a legitimate reason to check the warehouse accounts, he no longer dares to show his shameless face of demanding money. He just smiles and bows and scrapes as he brings out the account books.

But deep within his sharp eyes lay a barely perceptible hint of panic, which he would occasionally glance at the pages of accounts that Yang Hu was looking at.

Yang Hu remained calm and ordered his soldiers to bring out the account books and check each entry one by one.

The handwriting in the ledger was neat and beautiful, every stroke revealing the skill of an experienced official. The deficits were recorded as "war losses," "allocated to other camps," and "moldy and spoiled," each item filled in with a legitimate reason and without any omissions.

But Yang Hu was an expert at diagnosing illnesses, adept at finding the root cause of problems in seemingly harmless places. He meticulously checked each item, comparing the figures on the books with the meager inventory in the warehouse. The discrepancies numbered in the hundreds and thousands.

Last month alone, the military rations and arrows allocated from the treasury were enough to equip a detachment. But in the warehouses and on the city walls, there wasn't a single one of those hungry soldiers, gripping dull blades.

This isn't a loss; it's clearly someone emptying the company, piece by piece, to balance things out.

Yang Hu's gaze fell on the stack of records showing the allocation of military supplies.

Every large allocation of military rations and weapons required the signatures and seals of those in charge, with each layer of seals being used before the goods could be released from the warehouse. This was originally a set of rules to prevent embezzlement, but once those in charge colluded, these signatures and seals became an ironclad case of corruption, a shield that no one could overturn.

He flipped through the pages one by one, his gaze slowly moving over the densely packed signatures and seals. He soon discovered that, in addition to the recurring name of Squad Leader Zhao, another name and another small seal also appeared repeatedly at the end of these large-scale disbursement records.

That name, that personal seal, was stamped in the highest position, carrying the greatest weight. Almost every major embezzlement handled by Section Chief Zhao ended up with this seal.

He was a confidential document handler, and his name was...

As Yang Hu was intently observing, Qin Ying, standing beside him, suddenly narrowed her pupils slightly.

Her gaze was fixed on that small seal and that name, unable to look away.

In those eyes that were usually calm and unperturbed even by the biggest storms, a storm suddenly surged. The hand hanging in the sleeve slowly clenched into a fist, the knuckles turning white, and even the wrist that was used to holding swords and spears was trembling very slightly.

Her expression, her hatred, was impossible to conceal. Yang Hu felt a chill run down his spine, fearing that she might lose her composure in this important military supply area and attract the attention of others. So, without making a sound, he found an excuse to lead her to a secluded corner outside the warehouse.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a low voice.

"This name," Qin Ying's voice was extremely low, each word seemingly squeezed out from between her teeth, trembling slightly, her eyes surging with overwhelming hatred, "I recognize him."

She paused, her chest heaving violently.

"Back then, I was ambushed while patrolling the border. I fought my way out, but was eventually captured after exhausting myself. It was this person who personally drafted that military report, writing that I had 'fought valiantly and died for my country,' and sent it to the capital." She said each word carefully, "From that day on, Qin Ying, the granddaughter of the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion and the female general patrolling the border, became a dead person. The injustice done to my father and my entire Lu family was also revealed with a single stroke from that military report. It was this clerk in the central army."

Yang Hu was startled.

That blood-sucking ditch, that all-powerful hand, from Section Chief Zhao of the Quartermaster Department to this clerk in the central command tent... layer by layer, finally pulling another section inward.

This clerk in the central command was Zhao's superior. The audacity and connections of a mere clerk in charge of supplies to empty an entire camp were given to him by this clerk who could handle accounting and drafting reports in the central command tent.

It was he who, with absolute power, personally balanced the accounts of a formidable pass, emptied its warehouses, and fed the barbarians beyond the pass; it was also he who personally turned the granddaughter of the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion, a female general patrolling the border, from a living person into a cold "dead person" on the register.

The three seemingly unrelated but earth-shattering cases—the leakage of military supplies, the murder of Qin Ying, and the entrapment of the entire Lu family—were for the first time clearly intertwined on this small private seal.

"His act of delivering military reports and wiping accounts is a deeper layer in this hidden channel than that of Squad Leader Zhao," Qin Ying said through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word. "But he may not be the true mastermind behind it all. There are even deeper things hidden within this central command tent."

Yang Hu nodded slowly.

The clerks were the henchmen; Squad Leader Zhao was the mole. But the real hand that issued orders and held absolute power remained hidden deep within the fog, not even a shadow of it showing.

"No rush." ​​Yang Hu's eyes were as cold as ice, yet as steady as a mountain. "Layer by layer, we've already come this far. Further in, we'll reach the heart of that hand."

He glanced at the brightly lit and heavily guarded central command tent.

The line led them a little further in. But the deeper they went, the deeper the water and the greater the danger. This central command tent must be the most secretive place for that hand's eyes and ears. Every move they made was being watched by countless eyes. He, an outsider medical officer, had just begun to make a name for himself with a few life-saving skills, his foundation was very shallow, yet he was about to embark on such a high-level operation. If he was not careful, he would be crushed to pieces, and Qin Ying would also be dragged into an abyss of no return.

He can't rush things. The deeper he goes along this path, the deeper the water becomes, and the more patient he must be. He must diagnose a lingering, incurable disease with careful observation, listening, questioning, and palpation, taking the pulse inch by inch, without making even the slightest mistake.

There's plenty of time. He will avenge this blood debt, for Qin Ying, for the entire Lu family, and for all the soldiers who died unjustly in this city, penny by penny, with interest.

Qin Ying's disguised identity is like a string that could snap at any moment.

But now that the line has been drawn this far, there's no turning back.

He glanced at the brightly lit, heavily guarded central command tent, his gaze heavy.

Qin Ying's disguised identity is like a string that could snap at any moment. Every day she stays in this camp, another old acquaintance recognizes her, and that string becomes more dangerously likely to break.

Now that the trail had been pulled this far, there was no turning back. Yang Hu clenched his fist, deeply engraving the name of the military clerk and the appearance of the private seal into his mind.

There's plenty of time. He will avenge this blood debt, for Qin Ying, for the entire Lu family, and for all the soldiers who died unjustly in this city, one debt at a time, with interest.