Chapter 168

On New Year's Eve, the Bing-class prison finally starved someone to death.

Fan Yucheng was satisfied and urged Chen Guanlou to hurry with the Jia-class prison work.

Chen Guanlou: …

The rumors had already spread; even if the court planned action, it wouldn't come until after the holiday. Fan Yucheng was far too eager.

Even more eager was the Bing-class prison. Damn it, they don't follow orders!

At the mess hall, he caught Lu Datou and asked quietly, "In such a short time, the Bing-class prison completed its task—did you cut off their water?"

Starving for three or five days won't kill a man, but cutting water for three or five days guarantees death. And someone died precisely on New Year's Eve—clearly, they used extreme measures.

Lu Datou glanced around, then pulled Chen Guanlou into a corner to speak.

Today at lunch they had pork belly—the cook actually showed off his skill for once. It's the New Year; eat something good, can't live on pig feed every day.

Lu Datou ate with grease dripping from his mouth and added, "Cao Fatty clearly has talent, but he hides it. His usual meals are no different from pig feed. All year long, he only bothers to cook a decent meal on New Year's Day."

"Having something to eat is already lucky. What exactly are you Bing-class prison doing? Can't even wait until after the New Year—you had to drag out corpses on New Year's Eve?"

"Ask Xu Fugui about this—it's not my business. I'm innocent. Xu Fugui wants to show off—he's married into a grain and oil shop family, and they want to ease the prison's burden, you know. So when he heard they needed to give the prisoners a warning, he jumped at the chance. Right now, he's probably figuring out how to bribe Fan Yucheng."

"He wants to monopolize the prison's grain supply? Can he even handle it?" Chen Guanlou scoffed. Xu Fugui's father-in-law's size? Trying to swallow the prison's grain business? Pure fantasy.

Lu Datou chuckled, "Even half is fine! If he can't get half, even three or two percent is still a business. Grain prices in the capital have risen lately; experienced folks say the drought may continue after spring, and prices will climb further. His father-in-law wants to grab the prison's business during this surge—haha, clearly he's made a fortune already."

"Xu Fugui must have invested in his father-in-law's grain business—otherwise he wouldn't be this eager," Chen Guanlou declared. "But his greed is too obvious. We all agreed: wait until after the fifth day of the New Year, after welcoming the God of Wealth, before anyone dies. He goes and pulls this stunt on New Year's Eve—doesn't he find it unlucky? Is he afraid next year won't be bad enough?"

Things always go wrong when someone plays petty tricks and ignores the agreed rules. Always thinking they're the smartest, the most capable, eager to seize the advantage, always wanting to crush others.

Damn, all of them are bullies within the walls! Masters of internal strife.

Lu Datou felt zero guilt. "The man's dead—talking won't bring him back. Better eat more meat. You haven't touched your bowl—don't like the meat? Let me have it."

"Eat, eat!" Chen Guanlou shoved his bowl forward to Lu Datou. "Didn't anyone in your Bing-class prison object?"

"Why object? Those scum are dead anyway—just a matter of sooner or later. Dying a few days early saves a bit of grain. Chen Tou, you're too soft-hearted. Working in the prison, never have a conscience."

"I'm upholding the bottom line of humanity," Chen Guanlou snorted.

"I don't know what humanity is—I only know I get paid to do this job."

"Aren't you afraid of bad luck? Won't it ruin your gambling fortune?"

"Afraid of what? I'm stuck working in this dungeon—what fortune is left? Can anything be unluckier than working in a pitch-black prison? You think too much. Besides, Xu Fugui's the boss—I'm just a jailer. What choice do I have?"

Chen Guanlou had no reply.

He rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, and said, "Keep an eye on Xu Fugui for me."

"Watch him for what?"

"Since he's moving into grain, watch the grain."

"What are you planning?"

"Nothing. Just be prepared."

He wanted to use Xu Fugui's scheme to glimpse the true structure of the prison's upper-tier interests. If Xu Fugui truly secured the grain supply, it meant the upper-tier power structure had shifted—and perhaps certain people's positions would change.

These matters weren't worth discussing with Lu Datou.

That night, off duty—celebrating the New Year.

He had arranged to celebrate with Du Fuzi.

Only three of them, yet they prepared a full table of wine and dishes.

This year was definitely a prosperous one—time to splurge. Top-grade yellow wine, fresh wild game brought from the Hou Fu estate, secret seasoning packets from the Hou Fu chef's kitchen. The imperial chef's heir really was exceptional—the seasoning made the wine and dishes noticeably richer and more flavorful.

The mediocre old servant had suddenly become a master chef.

"Fuzi, I toast you first. This year, our cooperation has been a great success. Next year, let's keep pushing—aim for another step up."

Du Fuzi grinned, teeth showing, and chuckled, "Together, together. I've been scraping by in the capital for years, and every New Year, I feel ashamed—disgracing my family. All these years, I've sent home less than a hundred taels total, sometimes even needing support from back home."

But this year, I sent them two hundred taels at once. They wrote back—they can finally repair the old family home, add three new brick-and-tile rooms. My youngest son can marry and set up his own household, my eldest grandson can go to the county school, and we even have enough left to exempt my eldest son's family from corvée labor and buy proper gifts for the county magistrates. The rest? All invested in farmland—prime irrigated fields. Rare indeed!"

"Wow, you bought irrigated fields? Du Fuzi, you're something else! These days, unless a family is utterly destitute, no one sells irrigated land. Don't get tricked by someone's scheme."

"No chance! It's family kin—widow after her husband died, clan bullies harassed her. Seeing our family's kindness, she decided to sell us the irrigated land."

"So you've made enemies in your clan?" Chen Guanlou said, and instantly thought of the young widow Pan Niangzi—same excuse, same fate. His chest tightened; he drained his wine to drown the unease.

Du Fuzi laughed heartily. "I've taken precautions. I hold a scholarly title and teach at the Hou Fu private school. The Hou Fu name still carries weight—especially in small towns. When they hear I'm the tutor for the Hou Fu household, even the local officials treat me with extra respect."

Besides, the Master just crushed the rebels—he's at his peak. As his private tutor, my status back home has soared. In just these two days, I've received no fewer than three letters from home offering greetings."

A man's name, a tree's shadow. You don't feel it here in the capital. But if you go to the provinces, mention your background—no matter how distant the kinship—your surname is worth more than any letter of introduction. If you do business, you'll make a fortune."

Chen Guanlou smiled. "So if I travel outside the capital after the New Year, I'll strike it rich?"

"If you truly want to trade, you might just make a fortune."