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

Qin Hui was dressed in a purple official robe, with a gold belt around his waist and a long-winged turban on his head.

He was tall for a civil official, with a very straight back, and from the side he looked almost like a fifty-two-year-old.

He stood there, his hands tucked into his sleeves, facing the courtyard outside the corridor, as if looking at the few plum trees in the courtyard that had lost all their leaves.

But Zhao Bocong knew he wasn't looking at the plum tree. He was waiting.

Hearing footsteps, Qin Hui turned around.

His face was thinner, with higher cheekbones and deeper eye sockets than the portraits Zhao Bocong had seen in historical records.

In portraits, Qin Hui is always depicted as a treacherous villain with a pointed mouth, monkey-like cheeks, and crooked eyebrows and eyes.

But the real Qin Hui was not like that. He had regular features, high brow bones, and a calm gaze, making him a person whose true nature was hard to fathom.

When he looked at someone, his gaze didn't wander across their face, but was fixed on their left eye. Zhao Bozong felt that his left eye was pinned down by that gaze.

"Prince Puan".

Qin Hui's voice was flat. "Congratulations." He smiled slightly. The corners of his mouth twitched very slightly, but his eyes didn't smile.

"Prime Minister Qin." Zhao Bozong bowed slightly.

Qin Hui pulled his right hand out of his sleeve and waved it. "No need for formalities. From today onwards, the Prince will be a favorite of the Emperor."

He pulled his right hand back into his sleeve and tucked it in again. "I've heard about what happened at the Dali Temple gate."

Zhao Bocong remained silent. Qin Hui's right hand was tucked into his sleeve, the purple fabric of his official robes bulging slightly at the cuff.

Zhao Bocong recalled that the gray-clad man's right hand was also tucked into his sleeve, with the cuff slightly bulging, revealing a knife inside.

"Young man, having courage is a good thing." Qin Hui's gaze shifted from Zhao Bozong's left eye to his right hand, which was wrapped in bandages. He lingered there for a moment before looking away. "But if courage is misused, it can kill you."

Zhao Bocong looked into Qin Hui's eyes. Historical records state that Qin Hui died in the twenty-fifth year of the Shaoxing era, thirteen years before his death.

Thirteen years later, he will die of illness while serving as prime minister, and Zhao Gou will posthumously confer upon him the title of Prince Shen and the posthumous name "Zhongxian".

It wasn't until Emperor Xiaozong ascended the throne that his posthumous title was revoked and his tombstone was leveled.

But now, in the first month of the twelfth year of Shaoxing, Qin Hui is at the height of his power.

His evidence of bribery was read aloud in public; hundreds of people saw it, and hundreds remembered it. But he did not fall.

Zhao Gou would not let him fall, because the peace negotiations still needed him, Consort Wei had not yet returned, and the Jin state only recognized him.

Qin Hui knew this, so he still stood there, under the corridor outside the Chuigong Hall, and said "Congratulations" to Zhao Bocong.

He laughed not because he didn't care, but because he knew he would be fine for the time being.

He had a whole day to process what had happened at the entrance of the Dali Temple, and a whole night to figure out how to deal with the sixteen-year-old boy.

Then he had thirteen years.

"I will keep your teachings in mind," Zhao Bozong bowed again.

Qin Hui looked at the back of his bowed head and paused for a moment. "The Prince of Pu'an's residence is next to the Qin residence."

His voice came down from above Zhao Bozong's head, "After the Prince moves here, you and I will be neighbors."

Zhao Bozong's back stiffened for a moment. The Prince of Puan's residence was next to the Qin residence. Zhao Gou had moved him out of the palace and into Qin Hui's immediate vicinity.

This was not a reward, but rather pushing him outside the palace walls—pushing him to a place where Qin Hui could reach him.

"I am deeply honored."

Qin Hui remained silent. His purple official robes brushed past Zhao Bozong, the fabric rustling very softly.

Zhao Bocong remained bowed until Qin Hui's footsteps completely disappeared at the end of the corridor.

He straightened up and walked out of the corridor. The Prince of Puan's residence was next to the Qin residence.

Qin Hui stood under the corridor and congratulated him with a smile. Zhao Gou sat in the Chuigong Hall and said, "I know about that letter from the eighth year of Shaoxing. I knew about it long ago."

Zhao Bozong suddenly remembered what Yue Yinping had said in the prison cell—"My father said that this boy has a clear and upright gaze and the appearance of a benevolent ruler. After I die, this boy will surely clear my name."

Yue Fei said these words in the second year of the Shaoxing era. There were still nine years until the Fengbo Pavilion incident, and ten years until the evidence of Qin Hui's collusion with the Jin dynasty was revealed to the world.

He didn't know how Zhao Bozong would clear his name, how Qin Hui would die, or even whether his daughter would live to adulthood.

But he still said it, planting those words into the fate of a seven-year-old child.

On the sixteenth day of the first month of the twelfth year of the Shaoxing reign, Qin Hui began to purge the Dali Temple.

When Zhao Bocong received the news at the Duke of Jianguo's mansion, it was not yet completely dark.

Footsteps came from outside the door, steady and evenly spaced. The way soldiers walk, not servants in a household.

Zhao Bozong looked up as the door was pushed open. Standing outside was a young man dressed in the scarlet battle robe of the Imperial Guard, with an old scar on his cheek that stretched from his cheekbone to his jaw.

It was Li Yanxian, the commander of the Third Battalion of the Left Wing of the Imperial Guards, the person Zhou Sanwei arranged to escort him into the palace.

Li Yanxian did not come in. He stood outside the threshold, his right hand hanging at his side, his left hand holding a roll of something wrapped in a yellowed coarse cloth, on which was dark brown dried blood.

"Lord Zhou is dead."

Zhao Bocong's finger stopped on the page.

"When?"

"This afternoon, Qin Hui's men entered the Dali Temple to arrest people. Lord Zhou did not resist. He was taken to the deepest cell in the Dali Temple, the one where Marshal Yue had been, and was interrogated for half an hour."

Li Yanxian's voice was very flat, like he was reading a military report. "After the interrogation, the people who interrogated him went out, and the cell door wasn't locked."

"Not locked?"

"It wasn't locked. A dagger was left on the table."

Zhao Bocong remained silent. Qin Hui did not kill Zhou Sanwei directly.

He left the dagger on the table, left the cell door open, and let Zhou Sanwei choose for himself.

The choice is to live and continue to be interrogated, or to end one's own life.

Li Yanxian doesn't need to say what Wei chose on Wednesday; the blood-stained cloth has already told the whole story.

"Before he died, he gave this to me." Li Yanxian stepped over the threshold and placed the rolled-up cloth on the desk.

Zhao Bozong did not open it immediately. He looked at the bloodstains on the cloth. The blood was seeping out from inside. Zhou Sanwei had hidden the item on his person. When the dagger fell, the blood gushed out and soaked the roll of cloth.

What did he say before he died?

Li Yanxian was silent for a moment. "He said—tell the Duke of Jian Guo that there is something else in the deepest cell of the Dali Temple."

Zhao Bozong unrolled the cloth; it was an old prison uniform fabric, stained with blood and covered in creases. Zhao Bozong fully unfolded the cloth.

Inside is a diagram. It's a diagram of the internal structure of the Dali Temple.

From the main gate to the side gate, from the front yard to the back yard, from the corridor to the stone steps, the location of every door, every passage, and every cell is clearly marked.

There are several locations circled in vermilion on the map, and each circle is marked with tiny words next to it: "Emptyed", "Transferred", "Sealed", "Pending Retrieval".

The handwriting is Zhou Sanwei's.

His gaze fell on the last red circle, the deepest cell in the Dali Temple, in the northwest corner.

The label only has two words: "Pending".

"Where is Lord Zhou's body?"

Li Yanxian lowered her head. "Qin Hui's men took her away. They said they needed to verify her identity."

Zhao Bozong's fingers tightened on the edge of the table. After verifying the identity, Qin Hui didn't even spare Zhou Sanwei's corpse.

On the sixteenth day of the first month of the twelfth year of Shaoxing, only one day had passed since Qin Xi publicly read those words at the entrance of Dali Temple.

Qin Hui did not touch Zhao Bocong because Zhao Gou had just promoted him to the title of Prince of Puan.

However, Qin Hui targeted Zhou Sanwei, because Zhou Sanwei was the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review and the second person on the list.

Qin Hui didn't need to find out the list; he just needed to kill them one by one until no one dared to work for Yue Fei anymore.