On the night of the palace banquet, the palace was abandoned.
A smiling male voice came from behind the screen, as warm as spring water, but every word was penetrating:
"Master Zhao, do you want to sign this 'voluntary confession'? If you don't sign... The lower official has learned less than half of the seventy-two punishments in Dali Temple."
Nong □□ respiratory arrest.
The white jade abacus on his waist fell to the ground with a "snap".
"It seems that today," the man walked around the screen slowly, his indigo official robes flowing like water in the dark night, "we have an unexpected guest."
Their eyes met - the smile in his eyes was as deep as a pool, bottomless.
Intention: The old accounts of these seven years must be settled together