At three o'clock in the night, the candlelight from the west wing of the General's Mansion shone through the window lattice, casting Liu's shadow on the paper-covered window like a twisted spiderweb. On the rosewood dressing table, the flames from the gilded candlesticks crackled and exploded, making the fine lines at the corners of her eyes tremble. Chen Ruoruo huddled on the edge of the brocade couch, her lilac skirt wrinkled into a ball. "Mother, when Chen Weiwan took the storeroom key yesterday, her eyes were like knives... If this keeps up, even our monthly allowance will be deducted!"

Liu slammed her rosewood dressing table, sending the enameled teacup clattering and splashing the scalding tea on her gold-armored fingertips. She gasped, not caring about the heat. Her throat felt like ice as she lowered her voice, "What are you panicking about? When your father was alive, who was in charge of the general's finances? Now you're just a little girl whose father has died, and you dare to bully me?" She reached over and pulled out a wax-sealed letter from a secret compartment on the dressing table. The wax seal on the letter "Zhou" was rubbed raw by her fingertips. "I've already sent a letter to Zhou Mingyuan, the Minister of Revenue—he and your uncle had a feud over the grain transport, and he was worried he wouldn't have the chance to take control of the general's mansion."

Shen Ruorou's eyes lit up like a lamp: "Minister Zhou? But what handle can the General's Mansion hold?"

Liu let out a cold smile, her gold-inlaid jade armor scraping across the sealed envelope, making a rustling sound. "If I don't have one, I'll make one!" She unfolded the letter, revealing the tiny calligraphy of Qin Zhong, the accountant, on the bamboo-patterned rice paper. "Look at these entries—the allocation of military funds for the northern border. I had Qin Zhong add a few confusing entries to the account book, and also reduce the amount of several boxes of old armor in the warehouse. If Zhou Mingyuan reports even one of these fake account books, the Emperor will surely send an inspector to investigate."

Before she could finish her words, a cat's meow suddenly rang out from outside the window, its tail-end drawn out with an eerie tinge. Liu's expression suddenly changed. Three pieces of armor clicked into her palms, and she blew out the candle with such swiftness that it stirred a gust of wind. In the darkness, the only sound was the rustling of mice scurrying across the beams, mingled with Shen Ruorou's suppressed gasps, like countless fine needles piercing the cracks between human bones.

At noon the next day, sunlight filtered through the carved window lattices, casting dappled shadows on the veranda's blue bricks. Chen Weiwan sat cross-legged on the beauty's chair, cracking freshly roasted five-spice melon seeds and spitting the broken shells into the white porcelain dish held by Chuntao. The old butler hurried over, his back hunched, his goatee still matted with morning dew. His voice trembled like fallen leaves in the autumn wind as he whispered into her ear: "Miss, the concierge just delivered a note—Minister Zhou Mingyuan of the Ministry of Revenue has brought yamen runners, saying they've been ordered to inspect the accounts!"

"Check the accounts?" The melon seeds on Shen Weiwan's fingertips cracked, but the corners of her mouth curled up in a proud arc. "That's good. Chuntao, go to the warehouse and move out those boxes of old account books. Remember to replace the 'special' account book on the top of the third stack."

Chun Tao blinked her almond-shaped eyes, and the silken thread twisted around her waist suddenly loosened. "Young lady, are you talking about... the book that records the monthly payments that Liu withheld from each courtyard? But wasn't that account book confiscated by Liu?"

"Silly girl," Shen Weiwan tossed the melon seeds into her mouth, grinning like a stealthy cat. "Three days ago, I asked you to hide the real account book under the incense table in the ancestral hall. Now, the one on top is a fake copy I copied halfway from the real one—just with a few extra lines of 'details' of Liu's gift to Zhou Mingyuan." She shook the melon seed shells at her fingertips. "Liu wants to use the hands of outsiders to bring down the general's mansion? I want to see if she will burn herself to death with this fire."

At three quarters past noon, Zhou Mingyuan, accompanied by twenty or so yamen runners, kicked open the corner gate of the General's Mansion, the gilded door knocker clanging with a resounding thud. Liu, clambering forward in her three-inch high heels, her moon-white shawl fluttering in the wind like a spirit-calling banner. "Master Zhou! You're finally here! These past few months in the General's Mansion... well, that ignorant girl has truly caused such unrest!"

Zhou Mingyuan twirled his goatee, his eight-patterned seawater patches gleaming coldly in the sunlight. He sidelong glanced at Liu and snorted, "Rest assured, Madam Shen. I've received the Emperor's orders and will investigate thoroughly." Before he finished speaking, Shen Weiwan emerged, a tamarind branch in her mouth. The hem of her lilac-colored skirt was stained with a piece of grass debris, as if she had just tumbled down from a rockery.

"What's going on, Master Zhou?" Chen Weiwan tilted her head, twirling a tamarind branch rapidly between her teeth. "The general's mansion left by my father has never lost a cent of military pay since the founding of the country. Could it be that you're here to investigate my aunt for withholding the servants' monthly wages?"

Zhou Mingyuan's face darkened, his official boots pounding on the blue bricks. "Someone has reported that the General's Mansion is withholding military funds from the Northern Territory! If Miss Shen has done nothing wrong, why would she be afraid of my audit?"

"Withholding military funds?" Shen Weiwan suddenly raised her voice, and the tamarind branches fell to the ground with a "clack". "Master Zhou, please don't slander me! When my father was killing the barbarians in the northern border, you were probably still copying books in the Hanlin Academy?" She dodged to the side and pointed in the direction of the warehouse. "Want to investigate? Go ahead! But if I can't find anything, I have to go to the emperor and ask who is gossiping behind my back and slandering the descendants of loyal officials!"

Zhou Mingyuan's face turned pale from choking, and he waved his hand to order the yamen runners to rush into the storeroom. Taking advantage of the chaos, Chen Weiwan glared at Chuntao. Chuntao immediately crouched and slinked towards Xiefang Courtyard, where Liu lived. As the hem of her skirt brushed past the moon-shaped door, it startled the swallows nesting under the eaves.

Half an hour later, eight yamen runners emerged bearing four boxes of account books. The opening of the boxes sent a cloud of dust flying. Zhou Mingyuan rolled up his sleeves and flipped through just two pages before the greasy look on his face turned to cold sweat. The red ink markings on the account books were crystal clear, and every military expenditure bore the official seal of the Ministry of War. However, a few household expenditures stood out: "On the fifth day of the fifth month, twenty taels of silver were disbursed to provide a dowry for Minister Zhou's wife," and "On the sixth day of the sixth month, fifty taels of silver were disbursed to celebrate Minister Zhou's birthday."

Liu, watching anxiously from the side, secretly kicked the sole of Zhou Mingyuan's boot with her toe. Zhou Mingyuan slammed the account book shut and coughed like a broken gong, "Miss Shen, I've noticed... these accounts seem a bit messed up."

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