The letter weighed too heavily. Hua Zhi had no desire to read it a second time. Folding it closed, she shut her eyes and began calculating silently.

Thirty-seven people. Deduct two on the official side. At the Yu household, the archers had numbered… twelve. Those who emerged from the house… eight. At the silver mine, fourteen. And then there was one more…

Hua Zhi turned around. “General Lu — were there exactly fourteen Chaoli tribespeople concealed at the silver mine?”

Lu Peiyu nodded. “That’s correct.”

Hua Zhi turned back and was just about to question the manager further when she noticed he was still kneeling and gestured for him to rise. “Do you know Qi Qiu?”

“Yes, this one has seen him. He only came to be at the young master’s side last year. The young master said he could not be trusted.” The manager hesitated, then continued: “This one does not know much, but on one occasion this one heard the eldest young master say that the silver mine was the root of the trouble — that he could not protect the mine, nor could he protect the person.”

“Which ‘he’ does that refer to — Old Master Yu, or Zeng Xianglin?”

The manager shook his head. “This one does not know.”

Hua Zhi, however, had a vague sense of understanding. The first ‘he’ referred to Old Master Yu — unable to protect his own mine — while the second ‘he’ referred to Zeng Xianglin himself — unable to protect the people of the Yu household.

Administering slow-acting poison seemed like nothing resembling a Chaoli tactic. Or perhaps… it was Zeng Xianglin’s unconventional way of protecting them? After all, the Zeng family’s old patriarch appeared very much to have been poisoned as well.

Hua Zhi rubbed her overworked head. Most likely she was showing a bias toward Zeng Xianglin at this point, unconsciously inclining every interpretation toward a more favorable light.

“Did the eldest young master leave any other instructions?”

“In answer to Miss, there were none.”

Hua Zhi was not surprised. That he had even entrusted the manager with knowledge of where the letter was hidden already represented an extraordinary degree of trust. “Take me to where the eldest young master conducted his affairs.”

“Yes.” The manager briskly led everyone outside.

Hua Zhi reached the doorway and slowed her pace, narrowing her eyes until she had adjusted to the light before walking on.

By now the outer manager outside had also finished his calculation. Seeing her, he hurried over to report: “This one reckons there were thirty-one in total.”

With Zeng Xianglin’s letter in hand, this imprecise figure no longer mattered. Hua Zhi said nothing to reveal this, but replied only: “I have noted it. Go up to the stands and let the guests know — Jinyang is currently under total lockdown while a search is conducted for Chaoli remnants. Ask everyone to remain at the racetrack a little longer. Once the matter is resolved, they will be permitted to leave.”

“Yes.”

Zeng Xianglin’s room at the racetrack could only be called spartan — a sleeping platform, a low table, a writing desk, and a large bookshelf were all there was.

Hua Zhi turned and instructed the manager: “There is nothing further for you here. You may go.”

“Yes.”

Li He sauntered to the doorway and watched the manager walk away, then positioned himself there, seemingly casually, and did not move again.

Hua Zhi looked toward General Lu, who had remained silent throughout. “Zeng Xianglin said the silver was hidden at the racetrack, so it must certainly be here. However, I am not skilled at finding things — for that, I must rely on General Lu.”

Lu Peiyu did not go to look. Instead he stepped forward and asked, “The eldest Miss of the Hua family?”

“Yes, that is me.”

“You were well acquainted with Zeng Xianglin?”

Hua Zhi met his gaze without flinching or retreating. “What is it the General wishes to say?”

“Zeng Xianglin trusted you greatly. The Zeng household servants trusted you as well.”

“I am honored.”

“Why?”

Lu Peiyu’s manner had a somewhat pressing quality. Hua Zhi’s expression did not change in the slightest. She turned to Bao Xia. “Let General Lu have a look at the letter.”

Bao Xia, with a composed expression that held courtesy without warmth, presented the letter with both hands.

The letter revealed a great deal. Lu Peiyu could not say his doubts were entirely dispelled, but he could see plainly that this Miss of the Hua family bore no suspicion of colluding with the rebels. His manner eased by two degrees. “This general was mistaken in his thinking.”

Hua Zhi offered a slight smile and gestured with an open hand. She had never intended to dispel this general’s low opinion of her — they were strangers to one another. What did it matter how he regarded her?

General Lu and the deputy commander split up and searched separately. Hua Zhi stepped to one side and quietly studied the cramped room — the sort one had no interest in looking at twice after a single glance at the entrance. Before he had fallen into his own personal hell, Zeng Xianglin had also been a son of heaven’s favor. But his pride had been crushed into dust, and those fragments of dust and flesh had fused back together into a new Zeng Xianglin — scarred and battered. How could he not have hated? How could he not have nearly lost his mind? Anyone else in his place might not have proven any more steadfast.

“Here.”

Hua Zhi followed the sound. It was beneath the writing desk — where a rug lay, closely matched in color to the floor, utterly unremarkable, something she had never noticed before.

The rug had now been lifted aside to reveal wooden planks beneath, fitted together piece by piece. Below the planks was a slope. Dropping things down it would be easy — let them slide. She imagined that was exactly how Zeng Xianglin had intended it, for there were marks on the ground from the friction of baskets.

Li He stood guard at the door. The others all made their way down the slope.

Lu Peiyu lit a fire stick. Even by his own estimation of his worldly experience, the sight before him gave him a start. Everywhere the eye could reach was silver — nothing but silver — in all shapes and sizes, some in the shape of ingots, others broken and scattered. Tossed there carelessly, heaped in pile after pile, as if they were nothing but worthless scraps of bronze and iron, which said everything about how little regard the one who had owned them held for them.

No one spoke.

Hua Zhi was the first to step forward. She walked a circuit through the middle, picked up several pieces of silver, climbed back up to the room, and examined each one carefully in the sunlight.

Lu Peiyu and the deputy commander each grabbed a handful and came up as well, then passed theirs to Hua Zhi.

Hua Zhi accepted them without ceremony. After examining each in turn, she gave a nod. “Pure silver.”

The underground space — no one knew who Zeng Xianglin had found to dig it — was neither round nor square, with uneven surfaces here and there, coarse and crude in its making. But it was genuinely vast, and in that vast space, silver was piled into mountains. The sight was overwhelming.

“Given how broken and scattered this silver is, all of it must have come from the gambling houses.”

Lu Peiyu glanced over. “And the silver from the mine?”

“The mine would have been too conspicuous to touch — unless he carried out a switch, somehow exchanging the mine’s silver for the gambling houses’ silver. The smaller pieces from the gambling houses are certainly easier to manage.”

That was plausible. Lu Peiyu threw the silver back. An ambitious and clever man would know that ready silver was more useful than banknotes. Clearly Zeng Xianglin was a clever man. What a waste.

Looking at all this silver, Hua Zhi’s mind raced through several thoughts in quick succession.

She thought of Yanxi, pressing forward at the front. She thought of how Zeng Xianglin had also once turned a heart full of devotion toward the light of the moon. She looked up at Lu Peiyu. “General Lu — I have something I would like to discuss with you.”

Lu Peiyu dusted off his hands. “Let us speak outside.”

The underground space was cold. After only a short while down there, Hua Zhi felt chilled to the bone. Standing back in the sunlight, she could not warm up for some time.

She drew her cloak tighter about her, gestured for the others to step back, and said quietly: “Does the General know that His Majesty wishes to construct a new canal?”

“I have heard some mention of it.”

Hua Zhi looked at him. “And that His Majesty has long been troubled by the insufficiency of the imperial treasury, with no way to put the plan into action.”

Lu Peiyu understood at once. “You want to…”

“If the Chaoli Tribe’s intentions are now plainly apparent for all to see — does the General think it appropriate to begin constructing the canal at this juncture?”

“But this may not be possible to conceal. If His Majesty were to assign blame afterward…”

“I will bear full responsibility.”