Xuanqing Guard

At mid-5 p.m., Wang Jian, sweating profusely, hurried back with a freshly organized list and a copper box sealed with a paper strip.

Just this day alone, he’d gone to the Imperial City in the morning, then Xinliang City in the afternoon, and had run between three places, which had tired him out greatly. Still, the smile on his face showed that he’d had quite a fruitful trip.

After knocking, Wang Jian strode quickly inside. Without waiting for Shen Hao to ask, he said directly, "Sir, we’ve found plenty!"

Earlier, Wang Jian had sent a message with the Thousand-Mile Sound, but now, seeing Wang Jian open the copper box in person—inside was a pile of correspondence half a foot thick and seven or eight Thousand-Mile Sound pieces—Shen Hao felt a great wave of relief.

"Are all these...?"

"All of them! Seventy-seven letters in total, and eight Thousand-Mile Sound notes. Some are even from more than ten years ago; the Zhou Family kept them all."

"Did you stamp copies for the Three Departments to screen?"

"No need to worry, sir. The moment I got them, I had them stamped and sent back to the Three Departments for identification. These are the originals."

"Any particular discoveries?"

Wang Jian nodded, took out a piece of Thousand-Mile Sound, invoked the skill to unfold it and handed it to Shen Hao while explaining, "This one, six years ago, addresses someone as ’Grandpa Xu.’ I asked the Zhou Family members—among everyone of Zhou Qing’s generation, when they refer to Xu Hong they’re all using this form. So this is definitely a communication between Zhou Qing and Xu Hong."

Most of it is an exchange about insights on military tactics and array practice. But inside... here, sir, please look, right here: it mentions ’The matter in the south is now proceeding smoothly, the gateway has been opened.’ Combining this sentence with the surrounding context, it seems Zhou Qing is reporting progress to Xu Hong on some business. Tell me, would this count as solid evidence?"

"Evidence my ass! At most, it just adds further suspicion to Xu Hong. Anything else?"

"As for the rest, there are actually very few letters written personally by Xu Hong. Most of what’s here are exchanges between other Xu Family members and the Zhou Family. Xu Hong and Zhou Qing usually communicated via Thousand-Mile Sound. Aside from that one, the rest will need to be sorted out after identification below."

Shen Hao didn’t reply. He took a letter from the box, opened it, and saw it was from a woman of the Xu Family called Mrs. Chen of the Xu Family, written a year ago to the Lady of the Zhou Family. Mostly private matters, with some details about business interactions between the families. It was clear the Xu and Zhou Families had a good relationship—quite close.

"Do the two families have business dealings?"

"Yes. Earlier, while at the Zhou Family, I took a rough look at their accounts. There are quite a few shops in the Imperial City, and one very large grain store at Hai Xia. Each season, three and a half tenths of the silver coins there are allocated away under the heading of profit-sharing, going into the Xu Family’s purse."

"The grain store? Did you send people to investigate?"

"I’ve already notified General Flag Chen—they’re probably on their way now."

"Inform me the moment there’s news. Understood?"

"I understand, sir." With that, Wang Jian rushed out. In fact, at the same time, not only the Zhou Family in Xinliang City was being searched, but the homes backing the other nine tough suspects were also being investigated. But since those nine didn’t have direct ties to Xu Hong, Wang Jian hadn’t marked them as priorities, and the reports from them went straight to the hands of the three departments—Little Ghosts, Ghost Gate, and Judges.

According to Wang Jian’s feedback, an initial analysis would be ready before 9 p.m. at the latest.

After Wang Jian left, Shen Hao leaned back in his chair. His head felt swollen; he instinctively pressed his fingers hard against his brow.

The letters and Thousand-Mile Sound pieces seized from the Zhou Family did indeed include much about Xu Hong’s household. They confirmed Xu Hong and Zhou Qing’s close relationship—certainly more than casual. If one wanted to accuse them of conspiracy, ’suspicion’ would be quite justified. This alone would be enough to force Xu Hong to recuse himself from the case, even to make him suspend his job as Vice Minister of the Ministry of War while awaiting questioning.

But pinning Xu Hong down definitively was still a long way off. Even with the likely agitation from the Civil Servant Group, it was still unlikely.

These were the kinds of headaches Shen Hao had to grapple with. He was slowly getting closer to the goal, but how much longer would it take? Would there be a breakthrough before noon tomorrow? He had no confidence at all.

Earlier, he had boasted to Pang Ban about having a sixty or seventy percent chance—ugh! Now, seeing forty or fifty percent was already a miracle. He silently warned himself to be more cautious in future; he’d gotten a bit ahead of himself.

"Sir, you haven’t eaten anything all day. Should I ask the dining hall to fix you something?" Doorman Liu came in to change Shen Hao’s tea, hesitated, but finally couldn’t hold back his words. He knew his lord’s appetite well—much greater than most, but today, it was nearly dusk and he hadn’t eaten a bite. With all this work, how could anyone endure it?

Shen Hao was stunned at first, then realized he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten to eat—not just today, but since yesterday afternoon, he’d eaten nothing, all his focus locked on the case. Now that Doorman Liu had reminded him, a rush of hunger swept over him.

"Ha, Old Liu, if you hadn’t spoken up, I’d have stayed dizzy with work. Go ask the dining hall whether they have meat pies or sour noodle soup, whatever will do, get me... Actually, never mind," Shen Hao waved his hand, tugged at his clothes, and quipped at himself, "I’d better go home to eat instead, and get a bath, change clothes. These past few days in the Garrison, I’ve been sweating nonstop—I’m practically sour already."

It was already hot in Fengri City in June. Shen Hao had only managed thanks to his cultivation, cool tea, and a palm fan. Once he got busy, he forgot about it; but now, hunger and the sour stink on his body were too much to ignore.

Figuring Wang Jian wouldn’t finish anytime soon, there was enough time for Shen Hao to go home, eat, and take a bath.

"All right, if you’re going home, I’ll tell Xiaochen and the others to prepare the carriage."

"Good, go ahead. I’ll tidy up the desk and come."

Old Liu went outside to tell the guards to prepare the carriage. Shen Hao gathered up the papers on his desk, locked up, and stepped out of the Thousand Households Station.

"Sir, heading home?"

"Yes, home. Hurry, we’re pressed for time."

"Yes, sir."

Shen Hao got on the carriage. The sour stink from his body made him uncomfortable; he bitterly smiled to himself, thinking he’d gotten more particular as time went on. Back in his days as a Xiaoqi, he’d go three to five days trekking through ravines without a bath—he smelled worse then, didn’t he? Didn’t care about it then, so why did it bother him so much now?

Clearly, a good life for too long does make a man soft.

No sooner had that thought passed, Shen Hao intended to close his eyes and rest a moment, clear his mind, when suddenly he sensed the carriage coming to a stop.

Hadn’t even traveled half the time it takes to burn a stick of incense—surely not home yet?