Julie finally found the study room after searching nearly the entire backyard.
It was on the west side, and the room was quite spacious. In the front was a desk and a place to receive guests. Behind it was a storage room filled with boxes—four in total.
She opened two of them. One was neatly stacked with ten-tael silver ingots. The other was filled with gold, each ingot weighing two taels.
She opened the remaining two boxes as well. One contained various gold and silver jewelry. The last one held banknotes with different values, the smallest being fifty taels and the largest two hundred taels.
Julie thought to herself, "This trip was worth it."
She closed the boxes and stored them all in her space. They disappeared into the night.
…
Around 3 a.m.
Julie returned home and shut the door.
She changed her clothes, removed her disguise, and returned to her original appearance. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she closed her eyes and began to rest.
Her mind started turning over what was to come.
She had made a good profit this time.
These treasures and silver must have been collected over the years by Wei Zhen through bribes and "gifts" from people asking for favors. She just hadn't expected it to be so much.
Julie didn't lack money, but who would say no to more?
At the county magistrate's residence that morning, the officers discovered Wei Zhen's death, and after the chaos settled, they began preparations to appoint a new magistrate.
When a magistrate dies, there will definitely be an investigation.
But the capital is far away. A round trip would take quite a bit of time.
And with no clues or murder weapon, finding the killer would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.
And the truth is simple—when someone dies, everything ends with them.
Julie didn't dwell on it. She closed her eyes and began to practice.
By the time Bailee called Julie for lunch, it was almost noon.
She sat at the table, looking at the dishes: braised pork with vermicelli, stir-fried cabbage with pork cracklings, and scrambled eggs.
She picked up her bowl and began to eat heartily.
She thought about the eggs and meat she had also taken from the magistrate's home and stored in her space.
Once the food at home ran low, she'd head out early and bring more back. That should last for a while.
After two bowls of rice, Julie set down her chopsticks.
She got up, grabbed her tools, and went to work in the fields.
The grains, sweet potatoes, and yams would be ready to harvest in a little over a month.
…
At the magistrate's residence, around 7 a.m.
Dong Miao leaned back in the chair at the office, sipping freshly brewed green tea with her eyes closed.
It was no surprise Wei Zhen hadn't come out yet.
She never followed rules anyway, and it was said she had summoned Qingfeng last night.
Why? Obviously to mess around. No wonder she wouldn't be up early.
Dong Miao opened the account books and official documents, wondering if Julie had received the letter and what she might be thinking.
She didn't deny using Julie.
After all, they weren't related, and she wasn't kind enough to help someone without expecting something in return.
Still… she hadn't done anything much.
She just leaked Wei Zhen's intentions a little early. Half-truths and half-lies—it all depended on how Julie interpreted it.
Back in the day, she didn't have good timing and was just a poor student. Even though she was very knowledgeable, money was still a barrier. At that time, she couldn't even afford to eat, let alone buy an official post.
Later, because of her talents, Wei Zhen noticed her and brought her in as an advisor. She had been in that position for many years.
At first, she truly was grateful to Wei Zhen.
For supporting her and giving her a place to stay.
In the beginning, she worked hard, completing all her tasks without complaint. She handled both her own responsibilities and even those of the governor as time went on, gaining trust through consistent effort. For years, she never arrived late or left early.
She couldn't deny that Wei Zhen trusted her, but often she felt more like a servant, even a dog, being ordered around with arrogance. Over time, resentment quietly built inside her. She thought Wei Zhen's success only came from having a wealthy husband's family backing her. Without that support, how could someone with limited knowledge rise so high?
After all these years, Dong Miao started changing too. Her once strong morals faded. She became more practical, more calculating. Money, she realized, was truly powerful.
She used to think she would never care about wealth, even hated the rich. But when a businessman gave her a stack of silver notes just for a piece of land, and she accepted it—that was the moment she knew she had changed.
The feeling of power and wealth became addictive. She kept going down that road, and there was no turning back.
Still, she thought she was different from Wei Zhen. At least, she still had a decent reputation and got things done. She just lacked decisiveness and often weighed the pros and cons before acting. She cared more about benefits than justice.
But this wasn't uncommon. Most people in politics or office work were the same. If you were too honest or different, you'd either be isolated or taken down by someone above.
As she remembered all of this, she took a long drink of tea. It was already time for work—why wasn't Wei Zhen up yet?
She didn't want to wake her. Last time, she was yelled at harshly because of Wei Zhen's bad mood. So she called a clerk to check.
The clerk returned soon after, pale and shaking. "Advisor, you'd better come... the Governor is dead. There's blood everywhere, definitely dead."
Dong Miao's eyes flashed with something dark, but her face stayed serious. "What happened? Let's go."
Even though she had some mental preparation, the sight still made her uncomfortable. She stepped out after a brief look and called for the coroner to inspect the body.
She went to the study to write a report for the court. As she wrote, she kept wondering who did it. She thought about Julie for a moment, but it didn't seem possible. Just a woman—how could she sneak in and kill someone so cleanly?
Still, fear crept in. What if the killer came for her next? Wei Zhen had done many bad things. Sometimes Dong Miao helped, sometimes she didn't, but she always knew.
Once the documents were ready, she called a trusted aide and ordered them sent to the capital immediately.
Then she gathered several officers to search the entire compound. She wanted to know if anything valuable was missing—was it just murder or also theft?
Others were sent into town to look for suspicious people.
After giving her orders, she sat alone in the study, wondering if her savings were enough to buy a position.
She had long grown tired of Wei Zhen using her, taking her work to claim credit. What once felt like appreciation now seemed like mockery. She had been chosen not for talent, but because she was easy to control—a poor scholar with no background.
If she behaved, she was useful. If not, she would be eliminated. She knew too many secrets.
No matter who killed Wei Zhen, it didn't hurt her. Better no new magistrate than another to suppress her. So she made up her mind and left work early for the first time.
She planned to find that official from last time and try to arrange something. Appointments took time. If she moved fast and showed enough sincerity, maybe it would work.
Wei Zhen's official husband was a man around thirty-six. His face was calm and sharp, not soft like most men of this era. Cold and experienced.
When he heard she had been killed, he didn't feel much shock. Once, when they were young, they had loved each other. But everything changed after she used her family's money and contacts to buy her position.
At first, she pretended it was just politics. He believed her. But later, she stopped coming home, lived at the office, and openly took lovers.
He protested, but she silenced him with a slap. After that, she even grew fond of a male prostitute. Died with that man too.
Though he felt pain, standing in the cold wind cleared his mind.
She was gone. He still had to live. He had children to raise. He couldn't fall apart.
As for the concubines who had no children, they could go with her. Serve her in the afterlife. One of her wasn't enough anyway.
After all these years, he no longer needed her. She never loved him, only his family's wealth. He once misjudged her. Now, it was over.
Does he hate the killer? He doesn't know.
Maybe it's hate. Maybe it's relief.
With his thoughts clear, he called his servant, whispered a few words, and went to check on his child.