I traveled back to the Southern Song Dynasty and was actually outmaneuvered by Yue Fei.

Zhao Bocong remained silent.

He didn't think when he ran; his body reacted before he could even think.

The sound of the Imperial Guards' hooves was too synchronized, so synchronized that it didn't seem like the Imperial Guards at all.

He had heard this sound in historical records—when marching, they formed ranks; when halting, they formed camps; their hooves moved in unison. That was Yue Fei's army, but the Imperial Guards should not be Yue Fei's army.

The Imperial Guards were the private troops of generals, bribed by Qin Hui, and a ceremonial guard with lax military discipline.

On the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month in the eleventh year of Shaoxing, not a single one of them stood up to speak for Yue Fei. He did not trust the Imperial Guards.

He couldn't give a reason; he couldn't tell Yue Yinping that the books he had read came from eight hundred years in the future.

"The sound of the Imperial Guards' hooves was too synchronized," Zhao Bocong said.

Yue Yinping looked at him but didn't press him. She simply nodded, as if that answer was enough.

"That troop of imperial guards wasn't the imperial guards," she said. "They were former members of Yue Fei's army."

Zhao Bozong was clearly taken aback.

"After Qin Hui purged Yue Fei's army, some of his men were incorporated into the Imperial Guard."

Yue Yinping lowered her voice, "The Imperial Guard generals are Qin Hui's men, but the cavalry are not. They heard Qin Xi read those words on the Imperial Street, heard the crowd shouting that Qin Hui had colluded with the Jin dynasty, and heard you shout the first time."

Zhao Bozong's heart suddenly skipped a beat. "Do they know who I am?"

"They don't know. But they do know that someone stood at the entrance of the Dali Temple and called out for Yue Yinping the first time." Yue Yinping looked at him. "They chased after you not to kill you, but to save you."

Zhao Bozong lowered his head and looked at the strip of cloth in his palm. His hand was still trembling slightly, and the bloodstains on the cloth had dried.

He suddenly realized that when he shouted the first time, some people in the crowd shouted back. There were also former members of Yue Fei's army wearing the imperial guards' battle robes.

They heard his shout at the end of the Imperial Street, then followed the Imperial Guard general into a narrow alley, and saw him jump off his horse and run into the alley.

The Imperial Guard commander was Qin Hui's man; he didn't give chase—or perhaps he did, but was stopped by the hooves of the horses behind him.

Those former members of Yue Fei's army, dressed in the imperial guards' battle robes, shielded him in their own way.

Then Yue Yinping went around to the back of the dead wall from another alley.

Zhao Bozong looked up at her. "When did you learn to use a gun?"

"My father taught me." Yue Yinping lifted the gun barrel. "Daughters of the Yue family can hold a gun as soon as they can walk."

After saying that, she turned around and walked towards the alley entrance, stopping after a few steps.

"Regarding the list, Wednesday left a comment," she said.

He said, "The list isn't for knowing, it's for finding. You find one person, and they'll lead you to the next. You don't need to know everyone; you only need to know the first one."

"I was the first one."

"Yes, so let's start with you."

Zhao Bozong watched her turn around and walk towards the alley entrance.

"Once you get all three lists and put them together, you'll know all twenty-three people."

But not now. You can't know now. Qin Hui's men could arrest you at any time. The less you know, the less you can reveal.

When she said the words "confess," her tone wasn't one of distrust, but rather a clear understanding of the methods used in Qin Hui's torture chamber.

No one can guarantee they can withstand it.

Zhao Bozong watched her back as her figure appeared as a thin silhouette in the daylight at the alley entrance.

Yue Yinping didn't look back. She picked up her gun, walked out of the alley, and disappeared into the sliver of light at the end of the narrow alley.

Zhao Bozong leaned against the dead wall, the strip of cloth in his palm warmed by his body heat. He raised his right hand to his eyes and looked at the knot she had tied at the end of the cloth.

The knot is a common binding method used in the military, exactly the same as the knot on the paper rolls in the sealed box.

He lowered his hand, and footsteps echoed from the alley entrance. There was more than one person; their steps were very light, the soles of their boots barely making a sound as they scraped against the bluestone slabs.

Zhao Bozong looked up. Three men stood at the alley entrance, dressed in the scarlet battle robes of the Imperial Guards, but they were not on horseback.

The leader was a young man in his early twenties with an old scar on his cheek that stretched from his cheekbone to his jaw.

He stood at the alley entrance, his gaze passing over Zhao Bozong, landing on the gray-clad man's corpse, then returning to Zhao Bozong's right hand, which was wrapped in strips of cloth.

"Duke Jian Guo." The young man knelt on one knee. "Li Yanxian, captain of the Third Division of the Left Wing of the Imperial Guards. I am here on the orders of Lord Zhou to escort Duke Jian Guo into the palace."

Zhao Bocong looked at him. "Lord Zhou?"

"Lord Zhou Wei, Minister of the Court of Judicial Review."

Zhao Bozong was silent for a moment, then nodded and walked out of the alley.

Li Yanxian got up and followed behind, with two other Imperial Guard cavalrymen following even further behind, maintaining a distance of three steps.

Zhao Bocong walked back to the Imperial Street, where the Imperial Guard's cavalry was still waiting at the entrance of the Dali Temple. The Imperial Guard's commander was nowhere to be seen.

Team leader Li Yanxian took the horse that Zhao Bozong had ridden and handed him the reins. He mounted the horse, this time with more agility than before.

The cavalry set off again, passing through the Imperial Street and heading towards the Imperial Palace.

The Emperor was waiting for him, Zhao Gou was waiting for him. The evidence of Qin Hui's collusion with the emperor had been revealed to the world. Now it was his turn to face the man sitting on the throne.

In front of the entrance to the Chuigong Hall, Zhao Bocong knelt on the brick floor, his knees icy cold.

Zhao Gou sat on the imperial couch. He was not wearing court robes, but only a crimson Taoist robe with the collar slightly open, revealing the gray-white collar of his inner garment.

In the twelfth year of the Shaoxing era, Zhao Gou was thirty-six years old, but he looked older than his actual age. He had heavy dark circles under his eyes and thin cheekbones.

His fingers rested on the armrest of the imperial couch, his index finger tapping the wooden surface slowly, with about three breaths between each tap.

Zhao Bocong knew that the rhythm was meaningless; it wasn't a code or a test, but simply Zhao Gou thinking.

"Bo Cong".

Zhao Gou's voice came from the direction of the imperial couch. The palace was too deep, and the sound bounced off the dragon-patterned ceiling of the four walls, distorted as if it were separated by a layer of water.

"Your subject is present."

Zhao Gou did not speak immediately. He tapped his fingers twice more on the armrest, then stopped. Only the faint crackling sound of burning ambergris remained in the hall.

"I have heard about the matter concerning the Dali Temple."

Zhao Bozong's back tensed up. He remained kneeling on the spot, not daring to raise his head.

Waiting for Zhao Gou's next words.

The evidence of Qin Hui's collusion with the Jin dynasty had already been read aloud by Qin Xi in front of the Dali Temple, and hundreds of people saw and heard it.

In March of the eighth year of the Shaoxing era, Qin Hui wrote to Wanyan Zongbi, stating that the Southern Dynasty had no capable officials and that peace could be negotiated. He also attached a map showing the troop deployment in Jingzhou and Xiangyang.

The news couldn't have failed to reach the palace, and Feng Yi's Imperial City Guard couldn't have failed to report it.

Zhao Gou said, "I have heard about it," but he did not say what he had heard.

"You did a great job."

Zhao Bozong paused in his breathing.

"But that's not enough."

The rustling sound of fabric rubbing against each other came from the direction of the imperial couch. Zhao Gou changed his sitting posture and began tapping his fingers on the armrest again, this time with a faster rhythm.

"I know about Qin Hui's affair."

"In the eighth year of the Shaoxing era, the Imperial City Guard presented me with a copy." His voice suddenly lowered, as if he were talking about something insignificant, "It was written by Qin Hui to Wanyan Zongbi."

Zhao Bozong knelt on the spot, and the hall was very quiet.

"Do you think I only found out now?"