My wife, Wei Gui, was 1.9 meters tall and fought against the Tang dynasty for the throne.

When Du Chen entered the duty room, he was holding an account book in his hand, his brows furrowed in a frown.

"Master," he said, placing the account book on Li Ju's desk. "There's a discrepancy in one of the accounts."

Li Ju was looking at the grain urging document from Zhuojun, and without even looking up, said, "Put it there, I'll look at it later."

"Master," Du Chen didn't leave, "this account was settled very cleanly; you wouldn't even notice it unless you looked closely."

Li Ju then raised his head.

Du Chen is a man who never talks nonsense. If he says "there's a problem," then there's definitely a problem.

Which stroke?

Du Chen opened the account book and pointed to a line of small characters.

Li Ju followed his finger and looked over—it was a batch of military rations sent from Luoyang to Liaodong, with the quantity, time, and the person in charge all written down in detail.

However, Du Chen recalculated the figures on the nearby paper and found that the actual amount of grain shipped was three thousand shi less than the account.

"Three thousand shi, no more, no less," Du Chen said. "The reported loss is due to losses en route, but I've checked this route. The seas are calm, there's no backlog, and no capsizing. The loss rate is a bit higher than others, but it's just right so it won't attract attention."

Li Ju nodded. This kind of thing happens far too often; of the grain and provisions handled by the Grand Canal Transport Office, at least one in ten ships is embezzled.

He couldn't control it before, and he can't control it now—not that he can't, but the time just hasn't come yet.

"Okay," he said calmly. "Just put it there."

Du Chen glanced at him, said nothing, and turned to leave.

Li Ju had already lowered his head to continue reviewing documents. But just as Du Chen turned around, his gaze swept over a line of words in the ledger—the name of the escort officer.

Wei Feng.

His hand paused.

"Wait a minute." Li Ju picked up the ledger again, found that line, and looked at it carefully.

Wei Feng. A brave and resolute military officer, nephew of Wei Kuangbo, and cousin of Wei Gui.

He closed the ledger, leaned back in his chair, and remained silent for a moment.

"Shoucheng," he began, "is the original record of this debt still available?"

Du Chen turned around: "Yes, but it will take time."

"Go investigate. If you find out, don't tell anyone, just give it to me directly."

"Yes."

Du Chen went out.

Li Ju sat behind his desk, his fingers lightly tapping the tabletop.

Wei Feng. Li Zixiong.

He didn't believe it was a coincidence.

Three days later, Wang Yu brought news.

"Sir, we've found it." Wang Yu sat opposite Li Ju and lowered his voice. "The accounts for Wei Feng's batch of grain have been altered. The original records show that the three thousand shi were shipped out normally, but after arriving at the transshipment warehouse, it was marked as 'loss in transit.' I checked the person in charge; he was a minor warehouse clerk who died three days ago. It's said he fell into the river while drunk."

"Dead?"

"Dead. There's no way to prove it."

Li Ju remained silent for a moment.

"Where's the grain?"

"The grain is still there." Wang Yu's lips curled slightly. "Those three thousand shi (a unit of dry measure) never left the transshipment warehouse; they were moved to another warehouse, waiting to be sold privately. I've had people keeping an eye on it, and whoever goes to collect the grain will be identified as the person behind it all."

"No need to dig," Li Ju said. "Make a copy of both the original records and the current account books, and keep them exactly as they are. Also, find a way to transfer those three thousand shi of grain to Wei Feng's account."

Wang Yu was taken aback: "Sir, are you trying to protect Wei Feng?"

"It's not about protecting Wei Feng," Li Ju said. "It's about letting Li Zixiong know that his reach can't be that far."

Wang Yu glanced at him, didn't ask any more questions, responded, and left.

Li Ju sat in the duty room, holding the jade pendant engraved with "Eternal Stability" in his hand, his gaze deep.

Li Zixiong: I don't care if you mess with other people. But you can't mess with the Wei family.

When Wei Feng escorted the grain to Liaodong, the quantity did not match up.

Three thousand shi (a unit of grain) were lost.

Li Zixiong's men checked the accounts on the spot and found discrepancies between the ledgers and the actual grain supplies. Wei Feng was immediately arrested. The charge was embezzlement of military funds, a crime punishable by death.

When the news reached Luoyang, the Wei family was shaken.

Wei Kuangbo ran around trying to get his voice heard, but Li Zixiong held the power of oversight in the army and gave him no chance to speak.

Wei Feng's case has been classified, and he is awaiting execution once the case is reported to the imperial court.

Wei Feng was imprisoned in the military jail, but he was not flustered.

Before he was taken down, he had already sent a secret letter to the military inspector.

The secret letter contained the complete original grain register, the entry and exit records of the transshipment warehouse, and evidence of the final whereabouts of the three thousand shi of grain—someone had tried to sell the grain privately, but the grain was still there, not a single shi missing.

The inspector was an upright old official who had no prior relationship with Lee Chi-hung.

After receiving the confidential letter, he reviewed it overnight and found that Wei Feng's accounts matched the actual situation perfectly. The so-called "embezzlement" was actually due to someone altering the account books.

The result was not that Wei Feng was killed, but that Li Zixiong's men were betrayed and bitten back.

Although the granary official who attempted to sell grain privately was dead, the loopholes in the accounts remained. Further investigation led to Li Zixiong's staff.

Li Zixiong was so angry that he smashed the cup.

"Who?! Who's sabotaging me behind my back?!"

He ordered a thorough investigation, which traced the trail from the army to Luoyang, and from Luoyang to the Grand Canal Transport Office. But all the clues pointed to a dead warehouse clerk, and then the investigation went nowhere.

He suspected Wei Kuangbo, but Wei Kuangbo lacked the ability to do so. He also suspected several generals in the army who were at odds with him, but after investigating, he found no evidence.

He never imagined that the one who ruined his plans was just an eighth-rank official.

The office of the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner.

Late at night.

Li Ju was still in his office reviewing documents. Du Chen sat opposite him, calculating tomorrow's accounts. Wang Yu leaned against the door, listlessly wiping his knife.

A soft knock came from outside the door.

Wang Yu got up and opened the door.

A young man stood at the door, dressed in plain clothes, with a thin face and a touch of heroism between his brows.

He cupped his hands in greeting and lowered his voice, "Is Manager Li here?"

Wang Yu turned around and glanced at Li Ju.

Li Ju put down his pen: "Please come in."

The person entered the duty room, stopped, and looked at Li Ju.

Li Ju also looked at him. He was in his early twenties, of medium height, with a calm gaze, carrying the serenity of someone who had survived a calamity.

"Wei Feng." The newcomer introduced himself, cupped his hands, and bowed deeply. "Wei Feng thanks Steward Li for saving my life."

Li Ju stood up and returned the greeting: "Commander Wei, there's no need for such formalities. Please sit down."

Wei Feng sat down, looking at Li Ju with a complicated expression.

"I've checked," he said. "The original records for that batch of grain came from the Grand Canal Transport Office. There are very few people in Luoyang who can pull out the accounts and replenish the grain without making a sound."

Li Ju did not deny it.

"I have never met Manager Li before, why would he take this risk to save me?"