Husband and wife at each other’s throats — the confessions came readily enough. The woman confessed that her husband had been stealing from the residence’s wealth and lending it out for profit. The inner storehouse keeper admitted to the theft but insisted adamantly that he himself had been swindled by the moneylenders — a total loss with nothing to show for it.

Further questioning drew a dead end — the woman knew nothing more, and the inner storehouse keeper would admit only this much.

Zheng Xi asked him where the mistress was and whether there were any other stolen goods. The inner storehouse keeper kept insisting, “All of it was swallowed up by that thousand-cuts-deserving swindler.”

This was truly a dead end — the accused party conveniently beyond any confrontation. The moneylending ringleaders that had been named: the leader had been executed in the autumn of last year for hounding debtors to their deaths, and the remainder either had outstanding warrants with some still at large.

Zheng Xi thought to himself: just because you won’t confess doesn’t mean I have no way to investigate.

He had them taken away and consulted briefly with Prince Gaoyang.

Prince Gaoyang was furious. “When other people lend out a hen to get eggs, they get their eggs and then return the hen! He borrowed my hen to get eggs — the hen has flown and the eggs have smashed! Where is my hen?!”

Zheng Xi, however, remained calm and said, “Those who practice usury inevitably commit other serious crimes. Hounding debtors to their deaths is not the only charge — some may have abducted women and sold them to pay debts, some may have beaten people to permanent injury. The charge of merely ‘being arrested for moneylending’ — I fear he was involved in more than that, and it will be difficult to contain. If you pursue this further, Uncle, I’m afraid more things will be turned up.”

Prince Gaoyang said, “I’ve said it — even if I myself threw it out in a fit of madness, you are going to give me the answer.”

Zheng Xi said only one word: “Agreed.”

Prince Gaoyang sighed. “None of my sons are like you.”

Zheng Xi said, “Uncle was well aware when I caused trouble.”

Prince Gaoyang said, “If they could cause the same kind of trouble you caused, I wouldn’t be this troubled.”

Zheng Xi could only give a helpless laugh. “My father still thinks of me as a nuisance.”

Both men quietly agreed that the Dowager Consort was not to be disturbed, and that tomorrow morning she should not be told that Zheng Xi had come at all. Prince Gaoyang further instructed those below to quietly select trustworthy people and wait for tomorrow’s orders. Zheng Xi said, “Uncle need not worry — that child has a sense of propriety.”

Neither of them planned to stir things up further that night. They themselves might occasionally break curfew and find a plausible excuse — Zheng Xi could, for example, claim his grandmother had urgently needed him, invoking the word of filial piety.

A large group of people moving about in the middle of the night was difficult to explain away. The Capital Prefect — the ones who had done well, the ones praised and remembered — all shared one standard: they did not fear the powerful and privileged. Minor offenses of ritual dress code violations, carriages taking imperial roads, or forbidden activities — most people turned a blind eye, but a capable magistrate who simply applied the law as written would have enough material to earn a line in the history books.

The current Capital Prefect was Wang Yunhe. Wang Yunhe was clearly the kind of man who would earn a few lines of praise in the history books.

Prince Gaoyang had his nephew stay the night at the prince’s residence: “Handle it tomorrow. I’ll send someone with a few guards to follow his arrangements.”

Zheng Xi said, “Agreed.”

Between the two of them, Zhù Ying’s fate was completely decided.

Zhù Ying consequently got a full night’s sleep, without being yanked out of bed in the middle of the night to do things unfit for outsiders to know about. At this moment, she was napping on a narrow couch in the outer study of Zheng Xi’s borrowed quarters.

Zheng Xi had gone to the prince’s residence but had not dismissed Zhù Ying. She had no choice but to wait at Zheng Xi’s.

She was not closely acquainted with most people at the Zheng Marquis’s residence, but those around Zheng Xi knew her very well. They also didn’t make her wait in vain. A page brought her to a couch in the outer study and even brought her a quilt. “Third Master should rest for a while — even if Seventh Master leaves and comes right back, it’ll still take some time. Won’t you be going to the Court of Judicial Review tomorrow?”

Zhù Ying asked, “Is it alright if I rest here in the master’s study?”

The page laughed. “Not many people come here at night. Even if someone does — it’s quiet enough that you’d hear them from a long way off. I’m the one on night watch tonight, it’s not extra work at all, and I’ll wake you in time. Come, Third Master — get some rest.”

Zhù Ying thanked him. The page said, “Think nothing of it. Rest well, Third Master.”

Zhù Ying felt as though she had only closed her eyes for a moment when the sky grew light. At the first sound of movement outside she was awake, quickly got up, stretched her limbs, and rolled her neck. She straightened her clothes and shoes, found that the sky outside was just barely brightening, turned over and folded the quilt.

The page pushed open the door: “Third Master is up already? Very early! Let me put away the quilt. Seventh Master hasn’t returned yet — are you staying to wait, or…?”

Zhù Ying said, “Given the hour, I should go to the Court of Judicial Review first.”

As she was speaking, Lu Chao came pushing in from outside. “Knew you’d still be here. Seventh Master has already gone to the palace for morning court. He told me to come back — here, this is for you.”

He set down a large food basket, personally laying the things out on a small side table shaped like a crabapple flower. The page, holding the folded quilt, went out and came back shortly carrying washing water. Lu Chao praised him: “Well done, kid — you’ve got good instincts.” The page stuck his tongue out at him.

Zhù Ying did not need anyone to wait on her and washed her own face, combed her own hair, and sat down at the table. “Join me — you’ll have other things to do soon. Don’t waste time.”

The page was eager to, and Lu Chao demurred politely a couple of times before sitting down. Neither of them had chopsticks, so they each pinched a pastry. “Just a bite to get by — we’ll have proper food soon enough.” The page added, “Usually we get whatever Seventh Master doesn’t finish as a gift. Today we’re lucky to eat something fresh — that’s enough.”

They did not eat much. The three of them were still at the table when Zhù Ying heard Lu Chao say, “Seventh Master says you don’t need to go to the Court of Judicial Review today — he wants me to take you to the prince’s residence. He has instructions.”

Zhù Ying paused her chopsticks and asked, “What’s this about? I’m not doubting you, but I still need to check in. If there’s a problem there and the censors start talking, that would be bad.”

Lu Chao said, “I knew you’d say that. Here — look at this.” He produced from his breast pocket a slip of paper — Zheng Xi’s handwriting, instructing her to help the prince’s residence locate the stolen goods, telling her to proceed carefully and not get into disputes with anyone in the residence. Below this were a few abbreviated lines conveying the results of the overnight interrogation.

Zhù Ying pocketed the slip and thought: well, you’re the superior — I’ll leave checking in to you. If I get penalized for this, I’m coming to your house for meals!

She then asked, “What did the interrogation last night reveal? Master Zheng asked you to tell me.”

Lu Chao told her everything.

“Did Master Zheng also select other people to accompany me? I can’t be the only one going to work alongside a whole household of people I’m unfamiliar with.”

Lu Chao said, “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

He also found another young, sturdy servant from the Zheng household, brought horses, and the three of them went to the prince’s residence.

Prince Gaoyang still went to court as usual that day. From the outside, the entire residence looked exactly as it always did, as if nothing at all were happening. The three arrived at the prince’s residence, and it was the two familiar faces — the Chief Steward and the eunuch — who came out to meet them. Zhù Ying quickly jumped down from her horse and said, “Junior presents respects to both seniors.”

The Chief Steward and the eunuch both looked somewhat moved. They escorted the three inside, and once they reached a courtyard, the Chief Steward spoke up: “You actually saw it through.”

Zhù Ying said, “A stroke of luck — the place I suspected most came up empty. I was casting a wide net and relying on fortune.”

The Chief Steward said, “Fortune? Fortune only goes to those with the ability and preparation to receive it.”

The eunuch added a word: “Is there not a saying — blessings too great to bear? The young gentleman is precisely the opposite — you are the one capable of bearing them. Not only bearing them but bringing them home to find what you sought, and actually finding it.”

Zhù Ying offered a few more modest words and said, “I don’t dare presume. I only wanted to do my work properly so as not to regret being careless in the future. I wonder — what is it you need from me now?”

The Chief Steward and eunuch exchanged a glance. “We will stay here in the residence. If anything happens, send someone to let the two of us know. There are ten men here — they are all under your direction. Seventh Master has made arrangements about the Court of Judicial Review — you only need to focus on completing the present task.”

The eunuch also said, “His Highness has words: Evaluating Censor Zhù is careful and capable — the residence will not let Evaluating Censor Zhù’s efforts go unrewarded.”

Zhù Ying promptly said, “I humbly follow your orders.”

Then she asked, “I don’t know exactly what came out in last night’s interrogation. When I was informed, only the broad outline was given. I would like to ask for more detail so as to make fewer mistakes in the work ahead.”

The Chief Steward had not been present the night before — he had returned to his own home. The eunuch had been in attendance beside the Prince and told everything he had seen and heard. Zhù Ying listened very carefully, took it all in, offered her sincere thanks, then asked a few of the residence guards their names, took her leave of the Chief Steward and eunuch with a bow, and led the group out through a side gate.

The moment they were outside, Lu Chao asked in a low voice, “Seventh Master said to follow your lead — what do we do?”

“Find the woman who pawned the jade cup first. Split up — three groups, roughly. A large group walking down the street draws too much attention. Like this — you take a few people and go from the front; I’ll go from the back with these others, and we’ll close in from both sides. First — to the mistress’s house.” She roughly divided the group: Lu Chao with five prince’s residence guards in one party, herself with the other Zheng household servant and the remaining men in another, blocking front and back to prevent anyone from slipping away.

The mistress still did not know the inner storehouse keeper had gotten into trouble. She had recently sold some things for a little cash and bought a few items of clothing and food, not yet spent, and was at home cursing the heartless scoundrel every day. When Zhù Ying’s party arrived, they found a neat little courtyard. She had Lu Chao take people to watch the back gate and went herself to knock at the front.

A young maidservant’s voice from inside: “Who’s there?”

Zhù Ying said, “Brother Wang sent me to pass on a message.”

A scoffing voice from inside: “This dead ghost — so he still remembers someone lives here?”

She was still scolding as she opened the door — before Zhù Ying could say a word, two residence guards on either side had slipped in, and the maidservant who had opened the door did not finish her next line before her mouth was covered and she was dragged into the courtyard. The whole group surged in, and someone immediately pulled the door shut behind them, one person stationing himself at the door to watch.

Zhù Ying blinked once, then said quietly, “Move!”

It was a small courtyard, with wisteria growing over a frame, now bare and dry, giving it a desolate look. Beneath the wisteria frame sat several pots of flowers blooming in the cold. Without needing to be told by Zhù Ying, two men split left and right and searched the two side rooms and the kitchen — a fat cook was quickly and efficiently tied to the stove, and a big-footed serving woman in the side room was also bound with a length of rope in no time.

Zhù Ying watched all this unfold and thought: the prince’s residence people are indeed in a class of their own — working with them would make things considerably smoother. At the same time, she was inwardly cautious. With all her experience in county towns, prefectures, and the capital, people with this kind of skill and discipline were rare. The prince’s residence was formidable — and the prince’s residence likely had other arrangements in place. She grew even more careful, afraid of being used as a throwaway piece to plug a gap, and absolutely did not allow herself to think in any way: these people are under my command now.

She said very carefully, “Don’t let any of them make a sound, but don’t harm their lives. Tell Lu Chao to leave one man at the back gate and have everyone else come inside!”

Soon Lu Chao’s group, minus one man left at the back gate, had all come in. The groups assembled. Zhù Ying recalled how the residence guards had handled things and pieced together some understanding, learning something from them. She said, “No sound. Search slowly.”

Lu Chao said, “This will take forever. Just ask them what they know.”

Zhù Ying said, “Don’t bother with her. If you trust me, come search with me.”

Lu Chao was fairly inclined to trust Zhù Ying, and Zhù Ying was an expert at searching. She personally went through the courtyard piece by piece. Lu Chao watched in surprise as Zhù Ying picked out items one by one and said, “These need to be kept safe by everyone — they appear to be from the prince’s residence.” Everything was catalogued. More than a dozen items in total.

Zhù Ying also refused to let anyone pocket this mistress’s own private gold and silver or personal effects, insisting they too be gathered in one place, catalogued, and stored. Property deeds and land deeds were also found, gathered, and recorded.

Lu Chao said, “What are you —?”

Zhù Ying explained to him, “I saw the lost items list. These are on it. The others are not, and their style is not of imperial manufacture. They have to be separated.”

She then searched the outer room of the residence, and inside the mistress’s vanity table found a hidden false-bottom drawer, from which she extracted a small account book. Zhù Ying flipped it open, read a page, and then quietly turned through the whole thing — it was an account this mistress had kept on behalf of the storehouse keeper Wang.

The accounts were not complex, so Zhù Ying could make sense of them; any more complicated and she would have been lost. She read through from beginning to end, and then tucked the account book into her sleeve. She then instructed, “Pack the two different sets of items into separate boxes. Hire a cart — say you are moving to a relative’s house for the winter. Lock the door.”

She asked the Zheng household man to go and inquire: “Ask Master Zheng where to deliver these.”

Lu Chao said quickly, “Seventh Master’s instructions were to bring everything to the prince’s residence.”

Zhù Ying said, “Very well.” People, boxes, all of it was loaded into the cart and brought to the inner storehouse keeper Wang’s home, from which another cart was hired, and the whole lot transported to the prince’s residence.

She did not bother questioning the unfortunate mistress. She had strong suspicions this affair might involve the residence’s hidden internal matters — the struggle between the legitimate and illegitimate lines, for instance. As the saying goes, family scandals must not be aired in public; if outsiders were to know? With the account book in hand she had enough to account for herself, and she had no desire whatsoever to plunge deeper into the residence’s internal affairs.

She also had the residence guards break up into smaller groups again, dispersing and returning to the prince’s residence separately. She personally supervised the delivery cart, positioned in the middle of the convoy. Lu Chao volunteered to ride along with her. The two of them were squeezed into the cart alongside the mistress and the others, meeting the frightened, pleading eyes of the mistress. Lu Chao turned to Zhù Ying and asked, “Is that all?”

Zhù Ying said, “What more do you want? Don’t think beyond this — even for the one involved, it’s only a matter of helping a relative, isn’t it?”

Outside the prince’s residence, Zhù Ying leaned close to Lu Chao and said in his ear, “An ordinary household — if an outsider knows, it’s embarrassing for them. But a prince’s residence — if someone like us knows, it’s our lives on the line. So the best thing for us is to know only what we’ve officially seen, and not know anything else.”

Lu Chao drew in a sharp breath.

Zhù Ying glanced at the mistress in the cart and said, “Once we arrive, tell them everything you know — that way you’ll suffer less.” She did not look at the mistress’s expression as she said this, and quietly waited for the cart to reach the prince’s residence.

By the time they arrived at the prince’s residence it was already late afternoon. The group had been running about — first searching a house, then taking a roundabout route — without a midday meal, all of them hungry with stomach pressing against backbone. The Chief Steward and the eunuch had been waiting so long they had lost any appetite themselves, and oddly did not feel hungry. Seeing them return, both came to the side gate to meet them personally, and the eunuch urgently asked, “How did it go?”

Zhù Ying said, “The person has been brought. There are also some items — though far fewer than the residence’s missing goods. At this pace, they couldn’t have been fenced so quickly; they are most likely accumulated from years of gradual theft. Person and items are all here. There is also an account book. I would like a written receipt for the handover, if you please.”

The Chief Steward said with a helpless laugh, “A receipt for a handover — do you think you’re at the Court of Judicial Review?”

Zhù Ying said with seriousness, “I am precisely a person of the Court of Judicial Review, and I follow the Court’s procedures as a matter of course. If I were to forget, by force of habit, and return to the Court and stop paying attention to such things — wouldn’t that lead to problems? I dare not cultivate bad habits.”

The two sides were in the middle of this exchange when from outside came a cry: “His Highness has returned!” Every person froze where they stood.

Returning with Prince Gaoyang was Zheng Xi, who upon hearing there had been progress expressed his satisfaction. Prince Gaoyang said to Zheng Xi, “You have always had a good eye for people.” Zheng Xi said modestly, “Fortunate chance. There are ones I’ve misjudged too — I simply don’t bring them before you to cause embarrassment.”

Prince Gaoyang smiled.

Zhù Ying’s original plan was this: once the account book was delivered and she had an answer for Zheng Xi, she could return to the Court of Judicial Review and resume her normal duties. Copy out case files for the Gong Jie case, build up her record, wait for a promotion — wasn’t that perfectly fine?

She and the Chief Steward and the others waited until Prince Gaoyang and Zheng Xi returned.

Only then did Zhù Ying see Zheng Xi again. Zheng Xi said, “Well done.”

Prince Gaoyang asked Zhù Ying what she had found. Zhù Ying said not one word more than necessary, handed the account book to Zheng Xi, and Zheng Xi passed it to Prince Gaoyang.

Prince Gaoyang’s eyelid twitched at the words “account book.” He opened it and scanned it, and nearly rolled his eyes back in his head. He shook the book and said, “Something like this — kept in this kind of book — and they managed to steal from me right under my nose!”

Zheng Xi said, “At least the thief has been caught. As for what comes next, the residence is certainly capable of handling it. And I can now go back to give my mother an account — I’ve been afraid to face her all these days.”

Prince Gaoyang sighed. “I’ve been afraid to face her too, and even more afraid to face your grandmother. What would I say if she asks: how is the household? How can I answer? A good household — in my hands, come to this?”

Zheng Xi said, “At least the termites have been dug out. I must go home tonight — if I don’t, my mother will have the whole city out searching for me.”

Prince Gaoyang said, “This matter — I don’t need to keep it from you either. I still need to borrow the Evaluating Censor for a while longer. You stay as well.”

Zheng Xi said, “Very well.”

Zhù Ying looked toward Zheng Xi. Zheng Xi gave her a nod.

Zhù Ying felt as though she had swallowed a whole pot of bitterness.

Since she was born, she had never had an occasion to manage accounts. Her family was poor enough to see through at a glance — there had never been any need to keep accounts. After she acknowledged Yu Miaomiao as her godmother, the Yu household’s accounts were not hers to manage, though Yu Miaomiao and Huajie had explained a little to her. Even that had been only a little, and afterward what she had learned and practiced had nothing to do with bookkeeping whatsoever. Even so, she could make sense of that account book — because it was written in the most simple and direct manner, barely making use of any of the bookkeeping techniques Huajie had once mentioned to her. It was simply a record: on such-and-such a date, received such-and-such, pawned for so much, lent out so much, collected so much interest, and so forth.

But what was recorded in those accounts was vastly less than what the prince’s residence had reported stolen!

By Zhù Ying’s reckoning, the keeper’s main household should not have had this kind of account book — he must have kept the secret records at the mistress’s place, otherwise the residence would have swept through it long ago, and there would have been no need to bring in Zheng Xi, let alone drag her into the matter.

So where had the missing items gone? An inner storehouse keeper — how many mistresses could he have, and how many account books? If there was only this one, and the missing portion was unaccounted for, then who took it?

Zhù Ying instinctively wanted to back away.

But Zheng Xi was already deep inside this. Prince Gaoyang understood this clearly and was seething with anger. He said furiously, “Look at this! Look at this! Even the thieving has been recorded in an account book! Seventh Master — you just keep interrogating! If anyone dies, it’s on me!”

Zheng Xi said, “That won’t be necessary.”

The account books were handed back to Zhù Ying, and Zheng Xi asked, “What do you make of it?”

Zhù Ying said, “It’s an account book.”

Zheng Xi snarled, “Speak plainly!”

Zhù Ying pulled a miserable face. “That’s all I can see in it. You know what I’m like — from the day I was born, how much money my family had was visible at a glance, no need for any account book. I’ve never dealt with bookkeeping and never learned it. I passed the law examination — the hard-edged kind, not the refined gentleman type — I’m nowhere near the six classical arts. The arithmetic teacher you promised me still hasn’t been found.”

Zheng Xi was speechless.

Prince Gaoyang said, “You are an ambitious child.”

Zhù Ying lowered her head and said nothing. Inside, she was piecing together the clues, and she kept feeling that the matter behind all this was not simple — it likely connected to the prince’s residence’s struggle over the legitimate and illegitimate succession. She was bold but careful, and not knowing the residence’s inner workings, she had no desire to step into it. Besides — what did the prince’s consorts and concubines have to do with her? Her own assets were fewer than those of the inner storehouse keeper’s mistress. That woman at least owned her own house, while tomorrow Zhù Ying still had to haggle with an agent to renew her lease. What kind of wealthy-family leisure was this to be indulging in?

Since the case of Cao Shi’s death, Zhù Ying had understood clearly: serving as an official and adjudicating cases — getting to the truth was not necessarily the most important thing.

A case was not only about finding stolen goods and catching thieves — it was about deciding, once the facts were established, what law to apply and how to judge!

Judge a case without looking at the facts or at justice, and the case was unmanageable!

Zheng Xi said, “Uncle — why not first audit the accounts, and then investigate further once that is done.”

Prince Gaoyang said, “A calamity for my household. At least you two are not outsiders.”

Zheng Xi said, “In that case, let us take our leave for now. Uncle, if there is anything, simply summon me again.”

Prince Gaoyang did not keep them, and Zhù Ying followed Zheng Xi out, Zheng Xi guiding her into his own carriage.

Once inside Zheng Xi’s carriage, Zhù Ying became even more subdued. Zheng Xi looked at her expression and could not help laughing. “Frightened? You’re never usually scared of anything. No manners with me — and now you’ve learned what fear is?”

Zhù Ying said, “That’s different!”

Zheng Xi said, “Hmm — showing some sense, at least. Now tell me — what did you see in it.”

Zhù Ying was miserable enough to die. “Don’t make sport of me any further. If this goes on, I’d rather go back to doing the spirit medium act.”

Zheng Xi snarled, “Useless! What harm is there in trying? How is it that becoming a petty little official has made you timid in so many ways? Can’t you figure it out?”

Zhù Ying said, “Learning to keep accounts now is too late. Even if I could do it, he can push everything onto that dead man and the fugitives — dead witnesses, nothing anyone can prove. There’s nothing to be done.”

Zheng Xi said, “First investigate. Show me what you’ve got.”

Zhù Ying said, “Then let’s agree first — I do have a method, and I can find things. But as for the account book, I neither understand it nor will I pretend to. Whatever you get, do with it as you will. When gods fight, don’t use spirit mediums like us — people with no power at all — as a sacrificial offering.”

Zheng Xi burst into a laugh. “Same as always — even now, still bargaining with me?”

Zhù Ying said, “At the start, Brother Jin warned me the whole way — don’t be an ungrateful wolf that won’t be tamed. I grew up on the road. I’ve seen all sorts of things, and I’m not easy to tame. He blamed me for not opening my heart to people. I am somewhat afraid of opening my heart to people. Gathering together today, scattering tomorrow — I’ve experienced that enough that I’ve grown numb to it.

I started reading, and I came across a passage: do not let outsiders interfere in close family matters. This is your maternal uncle’s affair. I thought — I’ll only look at what’s on the surface. How you use it is up to you.”

Zheng Xi, hearing this, actually felt a flicker of sadness. “Is that so…”

He reached out and rubbed Zhù Ying’s head: “What a child! A clever person would keep such words in their heart and never say them aloud. A foolish person would not even be able to think them. Are you clever or foolish?”

Zhù Ying, genuinely worried about her own position, said, “Neither clever nor foolish — it’s that after coming to the capital, everything is utterly different from before.”

“Hmm?”

Zhù Ying said, “Before, in the county or the prefecture, a little cleverness was enough to charge ahead unobstructed. Coming to the capital — I feel like my wits are simply not sufficient. A capital official’s rice stipend, seasonal clothing stipend, every pawnshop visited, my own accent — it’s all a lesson, and I’m picking it up bit by bit from every stumble.”

Zheng Xi said, “Learning accounting now is too late. I’ll give you an account clerk. From now on, keep your heart inside your chest — I don’t want you to dig it out for me, and don’t hand it over to others lightly either.”

Zhù Ying said, “No need for an account clerk. Tomorrow — just write me a note to take to the Capital Prefect’s office. I’ll find a file, and say I’m investigating stolen goods and suspect these people may have handled them — borrow the account books from the moneylending cases he seized. Master Zheng finds an account clerk, the two books compared side by side, and just ask the storehouse keeper where the missing gold, silver, and valuables went!”

Zheng Xi said, “The Court of Judicial Review has a case like that?”

Zhù Ying said, “Yes — an old case, from before you arrived at the Court. I came across it when doing the reviews.”

Zheng Xi said, “Good — that is what we will do.”

Zhù Ying had spent several days running about outside and could finally go home and get a proper night’s sleep.

Back home, she said she had been worn out by official duties, and Zhang Xiangu immediately started tiptoeing around even when walking, and stopped coming to scold her. Lying in her own bed, the quilt was plain cotton cloth, the room had no incense, and supper was scallion-oil flatbread Zhang Xiangu had made with a little salted pickle — and somehow it all felt more comfortable than any prince’s residence or marquis’s mansion.

She thought: people are really strange. In the old days, when home meant only ragged quilts and wild plants to eat, if something came up, she could pick up and leave without a second thought. Now — even if it was a rented room and an eighth-rank official posting — there was something hesitant in her. She was no longer herself.

Zhù Ying felt somewhat regretful and began to criticize herself.

The next morning, she roused that old courage back up and thought: if I always lower my head and let people beat me, wouldn’t my mother be even more bullied?! No — I have to get my abilities stronger! Make the official post bigger!

She also deeply regretted: yesterday when speaking to Seventh Master Zheng, I was truly too soft — practically a dog rolling over and showing its belly!

Damn it all!

Zhù Ying, a little indirectly venting her frustration, went out in a huff to the Court of Judicial Review. Stepping through the palace gate, that nameless irritation was more than half extinguished; entering the Court of Judicial Review, she had calmed completely.

The Left Evaluating Censor saw her and asked, “Little Zhù — where were you yesterday? What was this task?”

He asked casually, and she answered just as casually: “An old case — something about stolen goods. I got sent to run an errand.”

The Left Evaluating Censor said, “You know, as much as you stand out before Master Zheng, how is it you’ve stepped back a pace and let that centipede get ahead of you, snatching up the showy work?”

“Centipede?”

“Centipede. Su the Centipede — walking through the world, all legs. Every path he encounters, there is no one he doesn’t step on. Lucky he has so many legs — somehow manages to step on them all.”

Zhù Ying gave a light laugh. “You have such a way with words. Already said he’s a centipede — would I rush to be stepped on? Not me!”

She dug out an old file, waited for Zheng Xi to return from court, asked him to sign a note, and clutching it went to the Capital Prefect’s office. She had some footing there by now — the note reached Wang Yunhe’s desk. Wang Yunhe looked at Zheng Xi’s writing, then looked at the old file Zhù Ying had brought, and said, “You may go and copy it.”

Zhù Ying’s face went slightly greenish. She asked respectfully, “Junior is embarrassingly ignorant of accounts and is afraid of making errors in the copying. Would it be possible to borrow the ledger book to take back with me? Master Zheng’s note is here.”

Wang Yunhe had an excellent impression of her and said, “You may.”

Zhù Ying, face faintly green, took the ledger book back, borrowed three account clerks from Zheng Xi, and worked through five full days of copying. The moment copying was finished, Zhù Ying returned the ledger book. Wang Yunhe flipped through it briefly and said, “I am not very versed in this myself — only a rough familiarity. You are new to the Court of Judicial Review and will spend years there working things out — auditing accounts is unavoidable. The Court does not only handle cases of death or theft — there are many other matters. You should learn something of this.”

“Yes.”

Wang Yunhe considered for a moment and wrote down several book titles. “These are all on arithmetic and calculation. Buy them and read through them. Once you’ve learned the basics, find an account clerk to ask one or two things — that should be about sufficient. I’m not asking you to master everything, but you can’t be entirely ignorant either. When you encounter a case involving fraudulent accounts, just find a sharp account clerk to audit for you.”

Zhù Ying felt thoroughly blocked up inside, yet Wang Yunhe was still as warm and patient as ever. She tucked Wang Yunhe’s list of books into her sleeve and went to a bookshop of her own accord to actually buy the books, then stuffed them away and returned to the Court to report.

No sooner had she arrived at the Court than Zheng Xi called her in.

Zhù Ying was in a foul mood. Zheng Xi’s mood was even worse. Two people, two dark faces, staring at each other. Zheng Xi said, “Set aside everything else for now. You look into this first!”

Zhù Ying startled. “What matter?”

Zheng Xi said with gritted teeth, “Gong Jie!”

“Me?”

Zheng Xi’s face was dark, and he said, “You guessed right — once the accounts were compared, it was plain as day. The missing sum is a full ten thousand in gold. He confessed — it was the eldest son’s orders. Now guess — where did it go?”

Zhù Ying said, “You’ve already told me — Gong Jie. Can I handle this?”

Zheng Xi gave a cold laugh. “What do you think?”

Zhù Ying, seeing that Zheng Xi was now speaking in a sardonic tone, knew he was truly furious, and thought to herself: the Prince would want to make alliance with Chancellor Chen, and this eldest son wanting to bribe Gong Jie to secure himself the position of Heir Apparent is not especially surprising.