Hearing the words from inside, Chang Yuncheng outside breathed a sigh of relief.

He took out from his sleeve the last remaining banknote from what he had distributed along the way, and under the pretense of helping the eunuchs carry the box, slipped it into their sleeves.

“Thank you for your hard work,” he said in a low voice.

Whether he was thanking the two eunuchs for the hard work of carrying the box, or for the hard work of announcing him, was unclear.

The two eunuchs carried the box inward with expressionless faces, but Chang Yuncheng still saw one of them tighten his sleeve.

Chang Yuncheng stood watching the two men, his face weary and eyes full of red threads, but his expression was relaxed.

Fortunately, he had made it in time…

When footsteps sounded, everyone in the great hall looked over.

Two eunuchs came hurrying in carrying a wooden box.

So many!

Everyone in the great hall looked surprised, while the Emperor’s expression showed suppressed anger.

“Just put it there!” he suddenly shouted.

The eunuchs were startled and stood in place.

“You spoke of excitement—let’s also see what others have to say.” The Emperor said coldly.

This was directed at her, so Qi Yue instinctively raised her head to look toward the central throne.

The Emperor was looking at her.

Qi Yue also saw the Emperor clearly for the first time.

Although there was some distance between them, but…

Her eyes immediately widened.

Eh? Isn’t this…

“Take a good look.” The Emperor said lightly.

Whether he meant look at himself clearly or…

With a thud, the two eunuchs placed the box in front of Qi Yue, also blocking her view of the Emperor.

Qi Yue was startled back to her senses by this thud.

A layer of sweat appeared on her forehead.

Not from fear, but from surprise.

My goodness, how melodramatic—there’s actually a plot twist of meeting but not recognizing each other!

Bah, meeting my ass—how could there be so many chance encounters in this world!

She quickly recalled whether there had been anything improper in their two encounters. Fortunately, everything had been normal.

“Look.”

The Emperor’s voice dropped down from above.

Qi Yue hurriedly stopped her wild thoughts and casually picked up a memorial from the top of the box.

“…These are all memorials impeaching you two. One or two could be nonsense and misunderstandings, but three, four, five, six—are they all misunderstandings and nonsense too? Where there’s no wind, waves don’t rise; flies don’t buzz around seamless eggs…”

The Emperor said with a cold laugh, his anger that had never been extinguished now blazing even more fiercely—whether because he suddenly discovered this Lady Qi wasn’t the Lady Qi he had imagined, or because this Lady Qi was exactly the Lady Qi he had been mindful of in his heart, in any case, the chaotic mess stirred his anger to even greater heights.

He simply stood up and paced back and forth above, talking as he walked, and gradually began cursing again.

The ministers all fell silent. Since the Emperor was angry, there were these two fools to bear the brunt of it now, so they could just wait and watch the show.

The Emperor cursed for a while, then couldn’t help but look at that woman again, to see if she was still so calm or had already been frightened to tears.

This time he got his wish—that woman indeed looked unusual, with tears glimmering in her eyes.

The Emperor snorted heavily.

If you knew this would happen, why did you do it in the first place!

Now you know to cry—too late!

Zhou Maochun also noticed Qi Yue’s unusual state, sighed heavily in his heart, and regardless of the Emperor’s presence, walked over to her.

“You silly girl, why did you have to do this?” he sighed, “Was it worth it…”

“It was worth it.” Qi Yue said, her voice somewhat choked.

Zhou Maochun shook his head.

“It was worth it.” Qi Yue said again. This time tears really did fall, dropping onto the memorial.

She seemed startled, hurriedly shaking out the memorial and being careful not to damage it at all.

Then she picked up another memorial.

“Don’t look anymore. You can’t understand what these people are saying anyway.” Zhou Maochun said, reaching out to stop her, his gaze falling on the memorial in Qi Yue’s hands, slightly startled.

This didn’t look like a memorial, but rather a simple notebook.

This?

Qi Yue looked through the notebook she had just picked up.

“…Third month, sixth day, clear, cold wind. Following Lady Qi’s regulations, making rounds. Light injury Ward Five, one hundred people, thirty-two with high fever, used remaining medicinal soup twice, others without incident, thirteen can be discharged…”

She sniffled and turned to the next page.

“…Seriously injured patient Wang Dahu, spear wound through chest, wound red and swollen, high fever and delirium, dressing changes not reducing fever. Following Lady Qi’s regulations, used two penicillin injections, will observe effect tomorrow…”

Looking at these pages of writing, she seemed to see the wounded soldiers’ camp. Without herself and Qianjin Hall’s disciples, the military doctors coming and going had not decreased.

“…I’m in charge of the light injury ward. Do you have enough people? Should I come help?”

“No need, no need, don’t mess up the… what was it… department?”

“Hurry, hurry… the disinfectant medicine soup hasn’t been sprinkled here yet…”

“…These medicines are for oral consumption…”

“…I’ll change your dressing, bear with the pain…”

They moved through different wards, following the rules she had left behind, clumsily but persistently adhering to them.

“…My name is Sun Sanniu, I can’t write, dictated by military doctor Kuang Peng. I belong to the seventh battalion, Squad A under defense officer Miao Dazhuang at Bailiu Pass. While defending the pass, I was wounded in the leg by an Eastern barbarian’s saber. At that time, Qianjin Hall disciple Guo Rong bandaged me and sent me to the light injury camp. Later, Qianjin Hall disciple Wu Wei cleaned and dressed my wound and gave me oral pills, one per day. Today is the tenth of the third month. I can now walk on the ground, and my wound has healed…”

In the room, a somewhat timid wounded soldier sat on the bed, speaking while watching the military doctor in front of him write, then clumsily dipped in red ink and pressed it on the paper.

On the other side of the room, another wounded soldier was already impatient. When the military doctor stood before him, he hurriedly began speaking.

“My name is Shi Gousheng… what are you laughing at… that’s what my mother called me… I have no other name. Doctor, do you need to write this sentence too? Then write it. Fine, I won’t say useless things… My name is Shi Gousheng, I can’t write, dictated by military doctor Ge Li. I belong to the eighth battalion, Squad D under Miao Dazhuang at Bailiu Pass. I’m a squad leader. While defending the pass, I was hit in the head by an Eastern barbarian’s flying stone and fell from the city wall. Qianjin Hall’s Zhang Tong sutured and set my bones. Today is the tenth of the third month. I still can’t walk on the ground, but I’m in good spirits and just need to rest my bones. Military doctor Qiao Minghua confirmed I’ll be able to walk normally in half a month…”

One by one, the bright red handprints made Qi Yue’s vision somewhat blurry.

“Hurry, record these well and send them by fast horse…”

A cloth bundle was tied to a soldier’s chest as he spurred his horse and galloped away.

All the post stations along the route had already received advance instructions and were ready with horses for the relay. The soldier galloped up, dismounted, grabbed the dry rations handed by the post officer with one hand while taking the reins with the other, and galloped off again almost without his feet touching the ground.

This kind of relay occurred almost every day—day by day, bundle by bundle, accumulating into the current boxful.

When they left, the injuries were in their initial stages and the effects couldn’t be seen. During this nearly month-long journey, whether these wounded soldiers lived or died, how they healed—all could basically be determined now.

So Chang Yuncheng had visited every post station and pass along the way…

So after seeing that she and Zhou Maochun had both safely entered the capital and wouldn’t be troubled, he had disappeared…

These documents that didn’t go through military channels, that had to be timed precisely yet still delivered at the fastest possible speed… this evidence.

Not empty words, not simple descriptions, but vivid comparisons, vivid numbers.

When they were found guilty and taken away, when no one saw them off or inquired about them with cold indifference, it would be a lie to say Qi Yue wasn’t uncomfortable.

So greetings and warmth didn’t necessarily have to be expressed at the time.

These annoying people! Always bullying others like this!

Qi Yue wiped her tears and picked up another notebook, seeing a familiar name: Qiao Minghua.

In a low, cramped room under dim oil lamps, Qiao Minghua was writing furiously, with a thick stack of notebooks piled before him.

“…Zhang Ye garrison military doctor Qiao Minghua’s seventh year, third month record. This year’s first battle, Bailiu Pass, six hundred wounded…”

Seventh year?

Were there other years?

Qi Yue put this one down, wiped her tears, and rummaged through the box. She indeed found a thick stack of notebooks, many yellowed with age.

Zhang Ye garrison military doctor Qiao Minghua’s Baoyuan third year record…

Songshan Fort military doctor Qiao Minghua’s Taihe second year record…

“Good, good!” Zhou Maochun was also holding one of these records now, his expression excited, “This boy has heart—he’s been keeping records all these years. Look, look, these casualty records, now look at this time. This isn’t a verbal lawsuit, this is iron evidence… good, good, he has heart.”

As he spoke, he too became somewhat choked up.

These bottom-level military doctors whom he had never regarded highly, who didn’t even deserve to be called doctors in his estimation, whose status was lower than that of any common soldier and who seemed dispensable—it turned out they too could accomplish something, something that at certain moments could determine life and death.

The key was that they had such perseverance, recording these dry, boring data. Not just dry and boring, but despairing—recording once meant watching that helplessness replay before their eyes again. To persist for so many years required such strong mental fortitude.

Zhou Maochun carefully counted.

“He’s been there for more than ten years,” Qi Yue said.

Zhou Maochun continued counting carefully through Qiao Minghua’s notebooks before nodding.

“Thirteen years, including two notebooks from his master,” he said, “organized by him.”

Their unusual behavior puzzled everyone else.

How were they chatting?

Weren’t these impeachment memorials?

She did cry, but it didn’t seem like frightened crying or desperate crying, but rather… excited?

Happy?

Being impeached would make someone excited and happy?

“Zhou Maochun, do you know your crime…” the minister who had been hit by Zhou Maochun earlier couldn’t help but shout again.

Before he could finish, Zhou Maochun grabbed the notebook in his hand and made as if to throw it.

This time the minister was prepared—he raised his arm and jumped aside.

Zhou Maochun put the notebook down.

The minister snorted. Really, at death’s door…

Before he could finish snorting, he saw Zhou Maochun feeling around on the ground, grabbing a memorial and throwing it hard at him.

The minister was hit again and cried out.

“Bah, this is more suitable for hitting you with,” Zhou Maochun muttered, carefully putting the notebook away.

The minister was even more ashamed and angry.

“Zhou Maochun, you’re at death’s door…” he shouted.

Zhou Maochun jumped up.

“You’re the one at death’s door!” he shouted, “Thinking that with these… these…”

He bent down again, picking up the memorials the Emperor had thrown down and hurling them all at the minister.

“Just with these, you can kill me…” he laughed heartily, “These damn memorials! These damn memorials are worth nothing!”

Before the ministers could speak again, he stepped forward, gathered the notebooks and memorials from the box, and held them up toward the Emperor.

Oh my, this old fellow has gone mad!

Throwing things at ministers was one thing, but did he want to throw them at the Emperor too?

“Your Majesty, what they say doesn’t count, what I say doesn’t count either. I won’t fight a verbal lawsuit—I want to fight a real lawsuit!” he shouted loudly, kneeling on the ground and pushing all these items forward.