Chapter 145: Not Mother and Son, Indeed Strange

Shi Hong's resentment and anger went unnoticed by anyone.

Chen Guanlou became the de facto head of the Jia-class prison, and some whispered behind his back that he was the deputy jailer.

Chen Guanlou heard it and didn't care.

One emperor, one set of ministers; while the two Fan officials still held their posts, he must recoup his investment. As for what to do after they're transferred, that's a problem for later.

Don't sacrifice the present for an uncertain future. For a man, the present is what matters most.

Big bosses hand out pies—promising a glorious future while demanding you sacrifice your present. That's called PUA.

We must not fall into the trap of self-PUA. The you of the future is made of every event you've experienced, every person you've met, every decision you've made now.

Good now is truly good; good future is just a pie.

The present has its troubles—solve them and move on. The future has a fifty-fifty chance of going smoothly. The future has its own troubles; you can't rely on it to fix the present.

Shi Hong's mind finally opened for once—he realized the outcome was sealed and could only swallow his hatred in silence.

Chen Guanlou had considered removing Shi Hong, but Shi Hong's cousin was a favored concubine of Fan Yucheng. Clearly, now was not the time to act, and Fan Yucheng would never allow it.

Wait!

He could afford to wait.

The New Year was coming, and eyes across court and realm were fixed on Jinzhou.

The old emperor had publicly declared that the Marquis's eldest son must win a battle before year's end, deliver a brilliant record to silence the world's gossip, quell the ambitions of would-be usurpers, drown out the noise from court and realm, and suppress the fury and opportunism of ministers. He also did it to save Jiang Tu's life.

If the situation truly spiraled beyond control, even if Jiang Tu was the old emperor's favorite, the emperor would have to accept cutting off flesh and sacrificing this dog of a son.

Whenever conflict cannot be resolved by conventional means, war is the best solution—and the best cover.

Ministers waited day and night. Those with ability, those in high positions, even sent spies to Jinzhou, hoping to secure accurate intelligence first.

For a time, Jinzhou teemed with all manner of demons and monsters; low-rank cultivators walked the streets, and high-rank ones were no rarity.

The Marquis's eldest son stayed daily in the camp, aware of the chaos outside but undisturbed in his Dao, steadfastly executing his plan.

He was calm, composed, neither proud nor anxious. This drove the old emperor frantic.

The old emperor knew full well that when generals are abroad, the sovereign's orders may be disregarded; in his youth, he had fully supported his commanders and never interfered.

But the aging emperor could no longer hold back—he was too eager, too desperate for a brilliant victory to rally the court and restore his confidence in controlling the situation.

So he issued an edict, urging the eldest son to launch his attack without delay.

Why the delay?

This was equivalent to pointing at the eldest son's nose and shouting: "Can't even crush a few rebels? What good are you? Can you do it or not? If not, step aside."

The eldest son seized the edict and ignored it.

The old emperor, enraged by the eldest son's disobedience, issued a second edict, explicitly demanding immediate action to crush the rebels, denying them any chance to breathe—otherwise, the next edict would bring charges.

The eldest son: …

According to his strategic plan, another one or two months would allow the army to better integrate, synchronize command and control, and form a strategic encirclement. He would strike in spring, when food supplies ran low and rebels were weakest, aiming to annihilate their main force in one blow.

Just a little more time, and he could complete his strategic deployment and extinguish the fires of Jinzhou entirely.

Yet faced with the old emperor's two consecutive edicts urging him, he hesitated.

Though he had already submitted a memorial explaining his strategy and begged for more time, the old emperor refused to listen—he wanted victory, and he wanted it fast.

Strategic deployment, annihilation in one blow—all irrelevant. Only a great victory before the New Year mattered.

Helpless and fearing imprisonment, the eldest son—already crippled in one leg—could not afford a second. He launched his offensive prematurely, leaving gaps.

The strategic goal of annihilating the rebel main force had essentially collapsed. Now he sought only to kill more rebels, cut more heads, reclaim some cities, and deliver a passable report.

As for how long the war would drag on or how badly Jinzhou would decay, the eldest son no longer cared. That was the old emperor's concern. Who else but the old emperor refused to listen?

The counterattack horn blew. News reached the capital, and the entire city erupted.

Some rejoiced; others grieved.

The Hou Fu household was delighted, as if they'd already seen the eight-hundred-li express report of victory.

The Hou Fu matriarch herself ordered a banquet, rehearsing in advance. When the official victory report arrived, they would throw a grand celebration.

The First and Second Branches raised no objections—the banquet was set.

That day, Chen Guanlou returned home and saw Liu Xiaochuan, a servant from Liu Guanshi's household, waiting at his door.

He was surprised.

"Why are you here? Did you come specially for me?"

Liu Xiaochuan nodded. "The Hou Fu is throwing a banquet in a few days, setting up several tables in the outer courtyard. Liu Guanshi told me to invite you. Here's the invitation. Just show up with this."

Chen Guanlou stared at the invitation in Liu Xiaochuan's hand, startled. "The Hou Fu invited me? Who am I, exactly? Are you joking?"

Liu Xiaochuan rolled his eyes—he'd always been like this. "What's so special about you that the Hou Fu would bother to joke? Haven't you heard? The eldest son has officially launched his attack—this battle will be a great victory. The matriarch is delighted and says the clan should celebrate too."

"My master saw you're reliable, so he added your name to the list. This is how things start—one invitation leads to another. Use this chance to build ties with the Hou Fu. Even if you're beyond five degrees of kinship, you'll still be able to lean on their power later. My master truly has your best interests at heart—don't mistake kindness for donkey's liver."

Chen Guanlou: …

He thought for a moment. "Fine, I'll come. But the eldest son is still fighting up front—isn't it inappropriate for the Hou Fu to celebrate now?"

"It's just family inside the gates, no outsiders invited. No problem," Liu Xiaochuan explained.

Chen Guanlou raised an eyebrow. The Hou Fu matriarch really was fond of revelry—she couldn't even wait a little longer, had to throw the banquet now.

What if the front-line battle turned sour? Wouldn't they fear court officials using this banquet to smear the eldest son?

Not biological mother and son—no wonder things felt strange.