Being an emperor is not something he can do, so he can only rely on his connections.

The matter of Zhou Jue was settled, the noise in the back hall died down, and the government office was filled with silence.

Zhang Jingwei didn't relax. Instead, he sank deeper into his chair, his brow furrowed. His slender fingers bit his nails unconsciously, almost bleeding. His thoughts were like a tangled mess, repeatedly shuttling back and forth through the chaos at Gaoyang Tower.

The image of Shopkeeper Shen, his face always covered with a smooth smile, lingered in his mind. He knew that Shi Jincheng and Zhou Jue were taking Wushisan in the private room, but he didn't stop them, not even a subtle warning... This was definitely not the negligence of a shrewd shopkeeper! More like... a deliberate indulgence?

Why did he do this?

Zhang Jingwei muttered to himself, his fingertips leaving invisible marks on the desk.

Do you want to use me to get rid of Shi Jincheng?

Or are you deliberately trying to make me an enemy?

All these thoughts sent a slight chill down his spine.

"Sir!" Yang Zhao rushed in, breaking the silence in the study. His sleeves were stained with ink, but a look of fierce satisfaction crossed his face. "Shi Jincheng has signed! He confessed everything, including the Shi family's pharmacist's alchemy room and pharmacy!"

"Hmm." Zhang Jingwei awoke from his reverie and responded. He wasn't surprised by the result. He had seen enough of Yang Zhao's methods.

"Do you want to go to court again?" Yang Zhao asked, with a tone of inquiry.

"No need." Zhang Jingwei waved his hand, looking a little tired. "Treat him the same way as Zhou Jue. Push him out of the ceremonial gate and lash him with twenty lashes in public. As for the Shi family... you personally lead the men, armed with the confession and the token, follow the map, seal off the relevant properties, and arrest the suspects. Act quickly!"

"Yes! I understand!" Yang Zhao's eyes flashed, he clasped his fists and accepted the order, then turned around and left, moving decisively.

Zhang Jingwei turned to Qian Ming, who was standing beside him, and said, "Qian Ming, go get Ergou."

"Yes, young master." Qian Ming responded and left quickly.

Not long after, Wang Ergou appeared at the door. With a barely perceptible look of annoyance on his face, he bowed and said, "Master, are you looking for me?"

Zhang Jingwei looked at him sharply and said, "Your people have been keeping an eye on Gaoyang Tower for two days. Have you found anything from Manager Shen?"

Wang Ergou scratched his head helplessly and sighed, "Master, that old fox surnamed Shen is so slippery! The rules in this building are very strict, and the staff are as tight-lipped as old clams. We can't pry out any useful information. Our people have been mingling with the diners, staring at them until they are almost blind, but they haven't found anything unusual. It's simply... airtight!"

"Impeccable?" Zhang Jingwei's lips curled up in a cold arc. "In this world, what wall is impenetrable? It's just a matter of price." He tapped the table with his fingers. "Go back and ask Sixth Uncle for two hundred coins. Remember, it's loose change (copper coins), not silver notes. Use this money to find the waiters, handymen, and kitchen helpers... especially those with family difficulties or who are addicted to gambling and drinking. Anyone who can provide unusual information about Manager Shen or Gaoyang Tower will be rewarded!"

Wang Ergou's eyes lit up and he immediately understood what Zhang Jingwei meant: "Yes! Young Master!" He turned around and was about to leave.

"Wait." Zhang Jingwei stopped him, his eyes fixed on his slightly irritated face. "You didn't go on patrol today? And you look disheveled."

Hearing this, Wang Ergou's face became even more irritated, and he spat, "Hey! Don't mention it! It's still about that stone locked in the cell. That kid hasn't stopped since he came in! He cursed and howled all night, making the brothers' heads hurt! He didn't stop even after his voice was hoarse, kicking and bumping like a donkey! If you hadn't told us not to use violence, I really wanted to..."

Zhang Jingwei rubbed his temples, obviously also annoyed by the news. "Okay, got it. Take him out of the cell and throw him into the deepest water room in the prison. Don't give him a grain of rice or a drop of water. Don't even let him close his eyes to sleep! But remember..." He emphasized, "Don't abuse lynching. Have the jailers take turns sitting outside the fence and staring at him! As soon as his eyelids droop, wake him up! You can hit him with a gong, pour cold water on him, or curse him with the most unpleasant words, but don't hit him! Keep him awake for two days and two nights so that he can talk to me properly."

Wang Ergou swallowed and replied, "I understand."

---

night.

The figure of Zhang Jingwei, bent over his desk, was reflected on the window lattice of the county magistrate's study. However, the tranquility of the night was frequently interrupted by the sounds in the courtyard—the sound of suppressed arguments, the rustling of scrolls being unrolled, and Zhang Liu's deliberately suppressed, yet somewhat stubborn, voice.

Finally, after his thoughts were interrupted for the third time, Zhang Jingwei frowned, put down his pen, stood up and pushed open the door.

Liang Dahai wore a scowl, cradling a thick stack of scrolls in his arms like a human easel. Meanwhile, Zhang Liu, hunched over, carefully unfolded a scroll by the light of a windswept lantern. He leaned in to examine it closely, his finger flicking between the woman's eyebrows and eyes, muttering to himself, "This one... has high cheekbones, perhaps a sign of lack of fortune... This one has delicate eyebrows and eyes, but her family background..."

"Sixth Uncle." Zhang Jingwei's voice was filled with a hint of helplessness and fatigue from being interrupted. "What are you and Dahai busy with so late at night? All that clanging and dinging."

Zhang Liu's hand trembled at the sound, nearly dropping the scroll. He quickly steadied himself, forcing a strained smile, a kind of flattering, "Young Master, you haven't rested yet? This old servant...this old servant has been visiting several of the city's most prestigious matchmakers these past few days, thinking...thinking it's time for some new faces. So, today, they've sent over portraits of several young ladies of suitable age and decent family background."

Zhang Jingwei's eyes swept over the large pile of scrolls, his brows knitted into knots, and his voice became gloomy. "Tsk! Sixth Uncle, what are you doing? Lingmei is still sick. If she saw these, how sad would she be?"

Zhang Liu, however, seemed to have been prepared. He straightened his hunched back and raised his voice a little, with a hint of grievance and self-righteousness: "Master, you are wronging me! How can I act on my own without the Young Madam's approval?"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Jingwei's heart sank suddenly, and a complex emotion surged up - surprise, heartache, and even a hint of empathy for the bitterness behind Huangfu Ling's forced magnanimity.

No wonder... No wonder I was so abnormal yesterday, and my words were always filled with lingering worry and self-deprecation.

Zhang Jingwei sighed and said, "Sixth Uncle, you... Ouch! This matter ends here! Don't mention it again! Take these paintings away! Now!"

The wrinkles on Zhang Liu's face deepened. Instead of retreating, he took a step forward, with the unique and almost stubborn loyalty and anxiety of an old servant: "Young Master! Please listen to my advice! The young lady comes from a famous family. She is the best woman in the world. I respect her from the bottom of my heart! But... but the Zhang family's incense cannot be cut off! You are the only child of the Zhang family! You can't... you can't just do what you want in this important matter of expanding the family!" He spoke sincerely and even with tears in his voice.

"Sixth Uncle!" Zhang Jingwei's voice suddenly rose, carrying a rare sternness. "I'm not even twenty yet! Why rush this? If you have the time to worry about this, why not think about your own son first? He's not young anymore, is he? At worst," he turned his gaze to Liang Dahai, who was holding a scroll and trying to minimize his presence, and said unhappily, "Look at your godson! Isn't Dahai already quite old? Why don't you make arrangements for him first?"

Liang Dahai had been cowering, pretending to be a coward, but when he heard the mention of himself and the connection to his "godson" status, he immediately saw it as a good opportunity to deflect the discussion. He grinned, half-relief, half-jokingly interjecting, "That's right! Godfather! You're so biased! You act as if the young master is your biological son!" His intention was to lighten the mood, to make a joke.

However, just as he finished speaking, a loud and crisp slap suddenly exploded in the silent courtyard!

"Snapped!"

Zhang Liu suddenly turned around with all his strength, and with a sharp whistling sound, he slapped Liang Dahai's face with his withered palm. The force was so great that the scroll in Liang Dahai's arms fell to the ground with a crash.

"You bastard!" Zhang Liu was so angry that his whole body was shaking. His fingers, which were pointing at Liang Dahai, were trembling. His face was ashen and his voice was sharp and hoarse with extreme anger. "Nonsense! You are spewing shit! The reputation of the master and the mistress is something you can really use to spread rumors and cause trouble?! Can you make up such a story about the young master?! I think you are itching for trouble and you deserve to be punished!"

Liang Dahai was stunned, his face burning with pain. He covered his face, shocked, angry, and aggrieved. He stared at the furious Zhang Liu, speechless for a moment. After several seconds, he muttered in a muffled voice, a touch of dissatisfaction and grievance, "Godfather... you were too harsh... I, I was just joking..." He looked at the scattered scrolls, then at the furious Zhang Liu and the sullen Zhang Jingwei, and finally realized the disaster he had caused. He shrank back, not daring to say another word.

Zhang Jingwei watched the farce unfold before him, his heart awash with mixed emotions, his exhaustion deepening. He took a deep breath of the chill night air and said gravely to Zhang Liu, "Uncle Liu, gather up all these paintings and return them to the matchmaker. Don't act on your own again." He glanced at Liang Dahai, who was covering his face with his hands and looking aggrieved, but ultimately said nothing more. He turned and slammed the study door shut.