Tan Zhaolin and A’Liu were unwilling to leave Su Jin alone, but having followed Su Jin for over a year, they knew well her decisive nature and had no choice but to leave.

By the time they reached the Feng residence, the sky had completely darkened.

The gate of the Feng residence stood half-open, with white lanterns hanging outside—everything dressed in mourning white.

A servant stood at the gate greeting visitors. Seeing Su Jin dressed in a light blue robe with an ivory-white cloak over it, carrying an extraordinary bearing, he approached and greeted her. “Is this young master an old friend of our master?”

Su Jin remained noncommittal and only said, “I heard that Master Feng is holding funeral rites for Magistrate Qu, who committed suicide beneath the Petition Drum?”

The servant confirmed this and, bowing at the waist, invited Su Jin inside.

The open banquet was set up in the front courtyard. Those who came to eat were all freeloaders, without a trace of sorrow on their faces.

But Feng Mengping was putting on quite a show—he had even hired a theatrical troupe to wear mourning clothes and kneel in the front hall wailing. In the center of the hall actually stood a coffin. Magistrate Qu’s body had long been taken away by the Ministry of Justice; what lay in the coffin was a paper figure made to resemble the magistrate.

The servant invited Su Jin to the head table.

That table was occupied by guests of some status. Beside them sat someone with a very prosperous appearance who looked like the host, currently raising his hand to welcome a young master.

The young master had a tall, slender figure and wore a moon-colored cloak, moving with carefree elegance.

Su Jin looked at this back and found it very familiar.

The servant said to the prosperous host, “Master, should I seat these two young masters together?”

The moon-colored cloak turned around, and their gazes met. He couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.

Su Jin was also momentarily stunned.

Peach blossom eyes with a teardrop mole beneath—who else could it be but Shen Qingyue?

Seeing that the two seemed to be old acquaintances, Feng Mengping bowed and asked, “May I ask what positions these two distinguished guests hold?”

After a brief silence, both answered simultaneously.

“I’m unworthy—merely an attendant of Censor Su from the Imperial Censorate.”

“I dare not claim much—I am but a servant attending Assistant Minister Shen of the Ministry of Finance.”

At these words, Su Jin and Shen Xi exchanged a silent glance. Though their expressions showed nothing, both knew inwardly that things had gone awry.

Su Jin thought that since the Feng family was in the tea business, Shen Xi, as an Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Finance, coming here must mean there was a problem with tax revenue—it was convenient to falsely claim to be part of his group.

Shen Xi thought similarly—this funeral was being held for Magistrate Qu, and wasn’t the Imperial Censorate investigating this very matter?

They hadn’t expected that both were here fishing in muddy waters.

Feng Mengping’s expression changed immediately. His face, round as a ball of meat, narrowed its small eyes, and he suddenly smiled. “Since you are truly distinguished persons, having you dine here would be remiss of me, Feng. Why not come inside?” He gestured with an invitation.

Shen Xi looked him up and down, examining this dignified and rotund gesture of invitation, and suddenly laughed frivolously. “No need. My upright censor, mindful that Magistrate Qu might have suffered an injustice, sent this humble one to pay respects, not to attend the banquet.”

Saying this, he swaggered to the front of the main hall, clasped his hands together, and perfunctorily bowed three times toward the paper figure lying in the coffin.

Su Jin also nodded to Feng Mengping and followed Shen Xi in paying respects.

The two left the residence one after the other. Their previously nonchalant expressions suddenly became unspeakable—where was the tacit understanding they’d had back when the Junior Minister of the Court of Imperial Entertainments attempted to assassinate the Thirteenth Prince, and the two of them had painted their faces and performed opera outside the Ma residence, splashing dirty water all over Zeng Youliang? How was it that after not seeing each other for over a year, they were now sabotaging each other?

However, now was not the time to vex each other. Judging by Feng Mengping’s manner just now, they had likely already alerted the snake by beating the grass.

One step later, and this snake would likely burrow into a hole and escape.

The best plan now was to strike first!

The sound of the night watch drum suddenly came from the darkness, from the neighboring lane.

Shen Xi glanced at Su Jin. Without time to explain much, he only asked, “Your official seal—do you have it on you?”

Su Jin shook her head slightly, but knowing Shen Xi’s intent, she asked in return, “Does Lord Shen have any token on his person?”

Even as they spoke, they had already rushed to the neighboring lane and stopped the night watchman.

Shen Xi took out a folding fan from his chest, placed it in the watchman’s hands, and said concisely, “Go to the Yingtian Prefecture Yamen and find Prefect Yang Zhiwei. Tell him that Assistant Minister Shen of the Ministry of Finance orders him to immediately bring yamen runners to Feng Mengping’s residence in Yuniao Lane.”

Upon hearing this, the watchman was instantly dumbfounded.

Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Finance—what rank was that?

He stood rooted to the spot for quite a while, then suddenly his legs went weak and he was about to kneel and kowtow.

Su Jin reached out to stop him and scolded, “What time is it to be kowtowing?” After a pause, she said coldly, “Hurry and go. If you delay important matters, this official will have your head!”

These words proved effective.

The watchman shrank his neck, knocked his head on the ground with a thud, dropped his drum, and took off running.

Only then did Shen Xi and Su Jin turn back, hurrying toward the Feng residence, afraid that if they were a moment late, Feng Mengping would escape.

With no time to discuss, Su Jin only asked, “What charge?”

Shen Xi said crisply, “Pick any one at random.”

Su Jin nodded. “Fine.”

Returning to the Feng residence, Feng Mengping had indeed already sent away all the banquet guests. A servant was about to bolt the gate when suddenly, with a “bang,” the gate was pushed open.

Shen Xi and Su Jin stood on either side, hands behind their backs, gazing coldly toward the interior of the residence.

For a moment, neither spoke. Their cloaks billowed behind them in the wind, as if moonlight flowed around them, adding three parts majesty to their bearing.

Everyone in the entire courtyard was stunned.

A flash of annoyance crossed Feng Mengping’s eyes. He came forward, clasped his hands in a bow, and said with excessive cordiality, “You two are not—”

“Feng Mengping.” Before he could finish speaking, Shen Xi interrupted coldly. “This official has received secret intelligence that you falsely reported tax grain. I’ve come specifically to take you back to the Ministry of Finance for interrogation.”

Feng Mengping fell silent for a moment, still smiling obsequiously. “Didn’t you just say you were a censor’s attendant? How have you suddenly become someone from the Ministry of Finance?”

Shen Xi said airily, “You believe whatever this official says?”

As he spoke, he unhurriedly extracted a piece of paper from his sleeve and read from it: “This letter says that aside from your tea business, you, Feng Mengping, also took on cotton and silk cloth business this year, producing a total of fifty thousand bolts.”

Standing to the side, Su Jin wondered how this could be so coincidental—that Shen Qingyue actually had secret intelligence. Then why hadn’t he produced it earlier?

However, when her gaze swept over the paper in his hands, it was actually a bank note?

After Shen Xi finished speaking, he placed the “secret intelligence” behind his back and continued spouting nonsense: “One bolt of cotton cloth converts to one shi of grain, one bolt of silk cloth converts to one shi and two dou. Why is it that you only reported forty thousand shi of grain? Truly, ‘the drums of the Yellow Springs sound, startling the old soldiers of Qin!’ No matter how you calculate, it doesn’t add up, does it?”

This string of fabrications, though seemingly directed at Feng Mengping, was actually meant for Su Jin to hear.

Su Jin naturally understood.

There were two key points: first, he had discovered that this year’s tax grain seemed problematic but lacked solid evidence; second, the problem area was precisely Shaanxi Circuit—otherwise, he wouldn’t have gratuitously recited the line “the drums of the Yellow Springs sound, startling the old soldiers of Qin” (Note 2).

Magistrate Qu was from Luhe County in Shaanxi. Could Shen Xi’s hint mean that Magistrate Qu’s death was related to Shaanxi’s tax grain?

After hearing Shen Xi’s words, Feng Mengping calmed down. “Complete nonsense. If you were truly from the Ministry of Finance, you would know that for a hundred years, my Feng family has only dealt in tea and never touched other businesses. I think you’re just here to cause trouble. Someone—”

“This official would like to see who dares!” Before he could give orders, Su Jin rebuked him.

Then she asked calmly, “Feng Mengping, after Magistrate Qu arrived in the capital, he visited you. What did he tell you?”

The fat on Feng Mengping’s face trembled. He seemed extremely resistant to this question. Just as he was about to refuse to answer, Su Jin continued, “What, do you not know that the Petition Drum is guarded by censors from our Imperial Censorate? Since Magistrate Qu struck the Petition Drum, naturally censors will come to investigate. Master Feng doesn’t wish to answer here—are you hoping this official will invite you to the Imperial Censorate?”

At these words, Feng Mengping indeed yielded. “In response to Your Lordship the Censor, this commoner took the scholar examination in the same year as Magistrate Qu and can be considered an old acquaintance. When he came to find this commoner, it was merely idle conversation—he said nothing of consequence.”

Magistrate Qu had died by collision against the Petition Drum, so he must have already been resolved to die at that time.

How could a person determined to die go find someone he was only casually acquainted with for idle chat?

This question from Su Jin was actually a test. If Feng Mengping lied, it would show he was eighty percent likely to be problematic.

If he were an ordinary tea merchant, no matter how large his business, how could he attract the personal inquiry of an Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Finance? And how could he be connected to a magistrate who came to the capital to file an imperial complaint?

Su Jin stared at him and suddenly smiled, then asked out of nowhere, “Who is your contact person in the yamen?”

Upon hearing this, Feng Mengping’s eyes suddenly became fierce.

These two before him had extraordinary bearing. If they claimed to truly be mere attendants and servants, he didn’t believe it.

He knew he couldn’t afford to offend the Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Finance or the Imperial Censorate. He had originally planned to send these two Buddhas away and escape the capital himself to avoid the trouble. He hadn’t expected these two to be like they intended to bite him to death and not let go.

From the current situation, even if he couldn’t afford to offend them, he would have to.

Feng Mengping said coldly, “Tie these two up and throw them into the woodshed in the back courtyard.”

Upon hearing this, Su Jin drew a dagger from her waist, carved with nine swimming pythons with fierce expressions.

She held the dagger in her palm. Originally intending to imitate Shen Xi and speak jokingly about how this dagger was an imperial gift, who knew that upon seeing the dagger, Feng Mengping’s eyes would actually show a look of fear.

Su Jin was startled and couldn’t help but look at the dagger again.

Just as Feng Mengping was about to kneel, someone beside him suddenly called out, “Master.”

The newcomer was a maid. She looked timidly at Su Jin and Shen Xi and said, “Master, the mistress is suddenly in unbearable abdominal pain. You should go check on her quickly.”

Just then, chaotic footsteps suddenly came from outside the residence.

It was Yang Zhiwei arriving with runners from the capital yamen.

Upon seeing Shen Xi, Yang Zhiwei immediately bowed. “This subordinate greets Lord Shen.”

Shen Xi nodded slightly, glanced sideways at Feng Mengping, and said, “Tie him up for this official. First thing tomorrow morning, transfer him to the Imperial Censorate.”

Yang Zhiwei acknowledged the order. He had just gotten up from the ground when he saw the dagger in Su Jin’s hands. His eyes went straight, his knees went weak, and he couldn’t help but want to kneel again, but Shen Xi grabbed him up with one hand and instructed with a smile, “Prefect Yang, go tie the man up. This official still has private words to speak with Censor Su.”

After Yang Zhiwei withdrew with repeated acknowledgments, Shen Xi tilted his chin at Su Jin. “This dagger—do you know its origin?”

Su Jin said, “This was a gift from the Thirteenth Prince.” Then she thought for a moment and asked, “Is it truly an imperial gift?”

Shen Xi said seriously, “This official doesn’t know whether it’s an imperial gift, but this is indeed Zhu Shisan’s treasured possession.” As he spoke, he suddenly winked at Su Jin with a smile. “Because he used to always tell me that every time he carried this dagger to drink flower wine, his luck with women was always very good.”

—

**Author’s Note:**

Note 1: In ancient times when collecting taxes, if what was collected wasn’t grain but cotton cloth, money, paper currency, silk and gauze, etc., it would be converted into grain for calculation—this was called “conversion.”

Note 2: “The drums of the Yellow Springs sound, startling the old soldiers of Qin”—from “Song of Chang’an.” Chang’an is Xi’an, so Su Jin determined it referred to Shaanxi.

I fell asleep after dinner, so the update is a bit late. Sorry to keep everyone waiting.

Today we’ll first bring out Little Brother Shen for a stroll, and soon we’ll stroll out Brother Liu and Thirteen.