Chapter 148: I Was Never a Good Man

"Chen Guanlou, let go. Are you insane? I'm older than you—I'm your elder brother. Is this how you treat your elder brother? Have you read so many books that they've all gone to the dog's belly?"

Chen Guanqing invoked his status as elder brother, trying to bully others with his position.

Chen Guanlou wasn't fooled by this act. Back then, when he and his sister were orphaned and struggling, where was this "elder brother" to speak up for them? Where was the material help? Even a single word of support within the clan would've been enough—he'd have remembered that favor.

"Chen Guanqing, I'm warning you. If you dare lay another hand on that young widow, I'll cut off your balls."

"Chen Guanlou, don't push your luck. The widow goes to the capable." Chen Guanqing turned livid, yet couldn't break free from Chen Guanlou's grip. Damn brat—relying on his youth and strength to defy him. How dare he!

Chen Guanlou sneered. "You, an old man lusting after a young widow? You're nothing but trash. Clean up your dirty thoughts."

"I get it—you've already slept with that widow. Chen Guanlou, you're no good at all. Stop pretending to be some noble soul."

"I never claimed to be good. Forgot, Elder Brother? I work in Tianlaomiao. You know what kind of people dwell there. You don't think I could stay pure while working there, do you? Do you believe I won't drag you straight to Tianlaomiao and lock you up for a few days?"

"Y-you…." Chen Guanqing couldn't curse—he wasn't out of words, but he saw real danger in Chen Guanlou's eyes.

"Thanks for understanding, Elder Brother. I knew you'd always look out for your little brothers. Next time, I'll treat you to wine." Chen Guanlou smiled, released Chen Guanqing's wrist, and raised his cup to toast the next table.

The clan's elder uncle grew impatient, gesturing for him to return to his seat. "Don't just drink—eat more food, fill your belly. The Hou Fu's chef? His ancestors served the imperial kitchen—they've got real skill. You won't find such fine wine and dishes anywhere else. Don't waste the feast. Wine's always available. It's rare to see you, so sit down and chat properly with us old folks."

With words spoken this plainly, Chen Guanlou couldn't refuse face or keep pretending.

He set down his cup and sat properly. "Uncle's right. Please instruct me."

The clan elder stroked his white beard, exuding authority. "I hear you've been heavily relied upon in Tianlaomiao—in less than a year, you were transferred to the top-tier Jia-cell prison."

"Not just that—he's now a squad leader, overseeing a dozen or more men. Last time Xiao Lan's child went missing, Xiao Lou gave one word, and a hundred jailers were pulled from Tianlaomiao to help search. He even got yamen runners involved. Didn't that cost a fortune?" A clan uncle chimed in.

Chen Guanlou laughed it off, saying nothing.

The clan elder sighed. "Xiao Lou, you're better than your father. Your father never knew how to build connections—he had no one to back him up when trouble came. So even if Tianlaomiao has a bad reputation, if you're willing to work hard, you can still achieve something."

"Uncle's right," Chen Guanlou replied offhandedly.

"Look, most of your peers your age have no trade, can't even afford wives. Why not bring a few brothers to work with you in Tianlaomiao? We're all brothers—share hardship, share fortune. Isn't that right?"

The mask fell!

The true intent was finally revealed.

They didn't just covet his money—they wanted his source of income.

Once they looked down on jailers. Now they crave the money jailers make. Money—what a bastard.

Chen Guanlou smiled.

"Family brothers are more reliable than outsiders. If you've got urgent tasks, hand them to your own kin—they'll get it done perfectly, won't they?" Another uncle nudged, helping to brainwash Chen Guanlou.

If Chen Guanlou were truly a man in his twenties, he might've believed this.

He lifted his cup. "Come, let me toast you uncles and elders. Since my father passed, I've been under your care all these years—I've never forgotten your kindness."

He drained the cup in one gulp.

"Xiao Lou, don't rush the wine. What I just said—give your answer. Is it reasonable?"

"Oh, absolutely reasonable. But Tianlaomiao isn't mine to run, and I don't make the calls. If anyone's not disgusted by the filthy, lowly job of jailer, why not bribe Officer Liu? One word from him, and your sons can become jailers. That's how I got mine."

Chen Guanlou pushed the matter straight off his shoulders.

He didn't believe these men would truly lower themselves to bribe Officer Liu for their sons' jailer posts.

He knew exactly what they wanted: money, not jailer jobs. They despised the jailer's status but craved the money it brought.

They spoke sweetly of brotherhood—but meant: let Chen Guanlou be the only one working, while they split the profits. Just a name, no labor, no stepping into Tianlaomiao—just take the cut. What nonsense. To hell with it.

The elders' faces darkened.

If they were willing to beg Officer Liu, why come groveling to Chen Guanlou today? They were given face—and threw it back.

Who'd want to be a jailer? Filthy, stinking, lowly. Even a jail clerk would be better.

Chen Guanlou didn't coddle them. He drank alone, chatting about Tianlaomiao gossip. "Just a few days ago, a fool in the next squad's crew swung his staff at a convict-official. The next day, he was ambushed on the street and had his legs broken."

"A convict-official is still an official first—that's why he's called that. Even a fallen official isn't something Tianlaomiao's riffraff can touch. You uncles—your sons and heirs—can you even stomach Tianlaomiao's filth? Can you bow and scrape to those convict-officials? If you can, then I'll bring my crew down there, do the dirty work every day—carry shit, haul urine, and smile while doing it."

Filthy beyond words!

Unthinkable!

The banquet was ruined.

Everyone at the table frowned, disgusted by Chen Guanlou's crude, blunt speech. They turned away, refusing to look at him.

Chen Guanlou poured himself another drink, utterly indifferent to their glares.

Seeing their reaction, he laughed aloud. "Uncle, your youngest son's about my age—I hear he's a good-for-nothing and has taken to gambling. Why not let him follow me? He'll get a few hard lessons—might even straighten out. Can't promise he'll make money, but at least he won't cost you meals. Saves you one person's food."