Chapter 116

Chen Guanlou was displeased.

What do you mean by “robbery”?

This is completely different from robbery.

He rebuked Yu Zhaoan sternly, “I don’t like hearing that. Prices are clearly posted—if you think it’s too expensive, don’t buy. We’ll never force you to purchase these services.”

“So there are other services?”

“Need a scrub? Professional scrubbers, fifty taels for half an hour.”

Yu Zhaoan’s lip twitched; he stared at Chen Guanlou in disbelief—total swindler, no doubt.

“Any other services?”

Chen Guanlou stared at him for two seconds, then blurted out, “Professional storytellers, fifty taels for half an hour. Daily meals delivered, ten taels per meal, fair to young and old alike. In the Bing-cell block, delivery starts at twenty taels—double the price.”

Recent income had dropped sharply; everyone was struggling, and the jailers grumbled constantly.

So, taking advantage of a wealthy man entering Tianlaomiao, Chen Guanlou rolled out various packages—fully backed by both Fan officials, supported by all jail clerks, and endorsed by every jailer.

Fan Yucheng approved: expand the package business, keep it off the public ledger, split four-six.

Tianlaomiao keeps four-tenths, remits six-tenths.

The jailers unanimously supported this decision.

The jailers served wealthy masters with great zeal—anything requested, anything given. As long as it wasn’t weapons, poison, white silk, women, or escape attempts, nearly every demand could be met. Even a personal servant wasn’t out of the question—just at an extra price.

The jailers became five-star attendants, serving the officials more diligently than any household servant.

All real silver!

As Chen Tou said, they were walking silver.

Who doesn’t love silver? The jailers wanted to cradle the wealthy men in their palms, hold them in their mouths—couldn’t let the Shaofu’s rich men slip away.

Because of the package scheme, Chen Guanlou’s prestige in the Jia-cell block reached unprecedented heights. If he ran for jail clerk, he’d win unanimously, no doubt.

Who doesn’t love a leader who can make money?

Even Shi Hong, who disliked him, genuinely felt grateful the moment the silver changed hands—he’d finally seen returns after so much effort, it was hard-won. If only more Shaofu wealthy men would come.

The jailers from the neighboring Zhaoju had already drooled with envy. Mine, mine—those wealthy men should’ve been Zhaoju’s secret treasury. Just because of one order from above, they’d been handed over to Tianlaomiao for free.

The Shaofu was rich—everyone knew that.

Even a lowly clerk from the Shaofu spent so lavishly, it shattered everyone’s assumptions. No wonder the official world had a saying: better a ninth-rank Shaofu official than a third-rank court official. Same rank, but risk and reward were worlds apart.

No official would be so foolish as to provoke a Shaofu officer. Even censors and imperial historians knew: if the Emperor hadn’t approved, don’t touch the Shaofu—don’t even look at it, lest envy make your heart race and kill you.

The Shaofu was the Emperor’s private domain; once inside, you were no longer part of the court hierarchy—you became the Emperor’s own.

The arrest of Shaofu personnel had left many baffled, with wild speculation everywhere.

Chen Guanlou, however, had direct insight.

The men who’d been staking out Tianlaomiao daily had vanished; the ones who’d constantly pressured him no longer showed up; Zhao the manager didn’t appear either.

Da Wang told him.

“Didn’t see any government officials. But lately, no one’s come to the money shop, and half the clerks have disappeared.”

“Good. Very good.” Chen Guanlou kept his promise and gave Da Wang a silver corner, warning him not to show off—save it as private savings.

“Still need to keep watching?”

“No need.”

Eight days had passed; Zhao the manager hadn’t moved, no one demanded his accounts—his crisis was over.

Qi Wuxiu’s efficiency was impressive. His backer had real power—just a few days, and Sitong Money Shop was in chaos, Shaofu officials thrown into prison. Even if they were minor clerks, it was still an astonishing feat.

He needed to reassess Qi Wuxiu’s backer—this kind of power might reach straight to the Son of Heaven, possibly even be a close imperial minister.

Wow.

What a golden thigh to cling to—envied by all.

Qi Wuxiu, having accomplished his task, didn’t forget to come to Chen Guanlou to claim credit.

At three in the morning, he scaled the wall. There was no way he’d ever use the front gate—not in this lifetime.

Chen Guanlou yawned, poured a cup of cold leftover tea, and handed it over.

Qi Wuxiu stared at the cup in his hand, his gaze saying: Is this it? This is how you treat your savior? This is your hospitality?

Chen Guanlou placed the cup on the table. “Only this is available.”

Meaning: you came at the wrong time. Break in at three a.m. through the wall? This is your welcome—take it or leave it.

Qi Wuxiu chuckled—he wouldn’t drink the leftover tea.

“I’ve handled your matter. Is Li the manager still harassing you?”

“Thank you! I imagine Li the manager is swamped now, too busy to bother me. Lately, things have been quiet around me. Next time, come earlier—I’ll treat you to a full banquet in return.”

“Alright, it’s settled. The debt of my life is repaid.”

Chen Guanlou didn’t mind the cold tea—it wasn’t great, but it quenched thirst.

He took a sip. “What life-saving debt? That was all a joke. Your backer’s impressive—such efficiency. With a backer like that, why waste your time in the fighting guild for scraps?”

“How about it? Interested in joining me? You’re not a martial cultivator, but you know a few moves—running errands and doing chores won’t be a problem. Your income won’t be less than here. More importantly, working with me brings plenty of benefits.”

Qi Wuxiu had thoughts of poaching him.

He thought Chen Guanlou handled things well, thought clearly, was educated, and had jail experience—he’d be more than sufficient as an assistant.

Chen Guanlou shook his head, politely declining.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard? He was running far away from them—he’d never walk into their arms willingly.

“I’m doing fine in the jail. No plans to quit and become a lackey.”

Qi Wuxiu: …

“Are you really that obsessed with your jail job? Besides the money, what’s so good about it? Tell me.”

“No perks. I just want less work, more money, low risk. I don’t want to get hacked to bloody pulp one day.”

Qi Wuxiu’s lip twitched—he had no reply.

“The jail has another advantage: no wind, no rain. Fixed hours every day. Unlike you—you’re out in sun and storm, traveling thousands of miles when on duty. I can’t handle hardship—I just want small comfort and peace.”

Qi Wuxiu was certain Chen Guanlou was saying this on purpose—to annoy him.

And yet, he couldn’t refute it.