Chapter 131

"Small one greets Second Young Master. My name is Chen Guanlou, same surname as the Hou Fu, but we're beyond five degrees of kinship."

Chen Guanlou bowed slightly, his demeanor neither humble nor arrogant.

"I suppose you're beyond five degrees of kinship. Otherwise, the Hou Fu would never allow you to serve in the Tianlaomiao. After all, it's a lowly post, staining one's reputation. Have you studied?" Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng's interest stirred; his anger seemed to subside, and he was now in the mood for a chat.

"I studied for a couple years, learned a few characters."

"No wonder!" Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng nodded knowingly. "Come in and keep me company for a while."

"This—this violates protocol," Chen Guanlou refused repeatedly, firmly refusing to enter the cell.

Joking? The prison bar was his last line.

Seeing his expression, Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng's smoldering anger flared anew. "Where do you get off? I'm not that kind of man! Fool!"

Really?

Chen Guanlou was half-skeptical.

Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng was furious—dared a mere jailer question him? "What kind of people don't I have? Do you think I'd covet you? I haven't sunk so low that I'd take anything, good or foul."

That made sense.

Yet Chen Guanlou still refused to enter the cell.

A proper jailer, even a squad leader, shouldn't enter a cell.

Maintain distance from prisoners—that's protocol, and a rule for survival. Get too close, and you risk retaliation.

"Fine, don't enter," Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng relented. He just needed someone to talk to, not someone inside the cell.

"Thank you, Second Young Master," Chen Guanlou sincerely thanked him for not abusing power. Such a reasonable imperial grandson was truly rare!

"Do you think I deserve this?" Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng suddenly asked.

Chen Guanlou: …

I don't understand. Why would the young master think so? Petitioning for one's father is an act of filial piety—how could that be deserving of blame?

"You really think so?" Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng doubted him—suspected he was flattering.

Chen Guanlou spoke solemnly: "There are things one must do, and things one must not. Privately, everyone admires you for standing up at this moment. Though the outcome is poor, your courage is commendable."

Song Yuanzheng smiled bitterly. "What good is courage alone? I'm still here. Do you have wine?"

"We do. But it may not suit your taste. Let me fetch you top-grade wine tomorrow morning."

"No need! I want wine now."

Chen Guanlou had no choice but to order a jailer to fetch wine—satisfy the Second Young Master first, then deal with other matters.

Soon, the wine arrived. Chen Guanlou drank a sip himself to ensure it wasn't poisoned, then passed the jug into the cell.

With wine—even if low-quality—the Second Young Master's anxiety eased. Though confined in the Tianlaomiao seemed calm, as if he'd accepted all consequences, inside he was terrified. With no outlet, he could only rage at the room's furnishings.

As the Second Young Master calmed, Chen Guanlou opened the cell door and ordered laborers and jailers to swiftly clean it, ensuring not a single shard or object remained.

He'd decided: the cell shouldn't have any extra furnishings.

If the Second Young Master took his own life, everyone here would be executed. This possibility must be crushed in the cradle.

Seize this chance: remove all furnishings, all sharp objects—ensure the cell is clean, tidy, and free of danger. For everyone's sake.

Tomorrow morning, he must speak properly with the two Fan Officials, to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings.

"Do I seem foolish?" Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng looked at Chen Guanlou.

Chen Guanlou subtly waved to several jailers, signaling them to leave. The Second Young Master's inner thoughts weren't meant for jailers to hear—might cause misunderstandings.

The jailers also didn't want to hear the imperial grandson's private thoughts. With permission granted, they fled like men released from prison.

But they moved quietly, not disturbing the self-pitying Second Young Master.

"When your heart is troubled, drink more wine—it'll help you sleep."

"I haven't slept well these two days."

"Changing environments takes time to adjust. Some officials took half a year or a year to adapt, weeping daily—hard to imagine them in their official robes."

People find inner satisfaction through comparison.

Chen Guanlou tried telling more tales of other officials' miseries, to help the Second Young Master see things differently. Above all, don't dig yourself into a corner. Above all, don't drag the hundred souls of the Tianlaomiao down with you.

"Really?" Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng paused. "Compared to them, I'm probably no better off."

"You overthink it! Someone like you, confined in the Tianlaomiao yet calm and composed, is as rare as phoenix feathers. Others thrown in there act as if heaven has collapsed—many scenes are utterly disgraceful."

"Who? Tell me about them."

"There are many. Actually, the most interesting cells in the Tianlaomiao are the Bing-character cells—housing bandits and outlaws. Do you remember last year's thief who broke into the Princess's mansion?"

Talking scandal about officials?

Chen Guanlou wasn't mad—he wouldn't do such a thing. He swiftly shifted focus: bandit gossip was safe. He could tell endless tales, ten pounds' worth.

No more official scandals—too dangerous.

He launched into the tale of the thief known as Kongkong—and it worked. With wine to aid him, the effect was clear: his anger vanished, hope reignited. So many stories remained untold—he had no room for despair.

"Did he die?"

"He did. Executed on the spot!"

"Pity! Kongkong was an interesting man. Had I known of him earlier, I'd have sought him out myself."

Second Young Master Song Yuanzheng grew interested, urging Chen Guanlou to tell more.

Chen Guanlou had a stool brought and sat right before the cell door, chatting with the Second Young Master. He became a street sage, doing emotional soothing.

He had to treat this nobleman well.

A nobleman in the Tianlaomiao was a huge headache—and he couldn't complain. What a nightmare.

He chatted half the night with the Second Young Master—about men, women, street legends. Never about court, never about officials.

They talked until midnight, until the Second Young Master finally grew tired and fell asleep on the bed.

Chen Guanlou yawned, checked the time—it was curfew. He decided to sleep in the watchroom, telling Xiao Jin: "If anything happens, wake me. Tomorrow, buy several new storybooks for the Second Young Master."

Young people—surely they love storybooks, especially illustrated ones, vivid and lifelike.

If he couldn't buy any, he'd draw one himself. His childhood sketching skills still held—he could easily paint a colored one.