Chapter 189: Making War and Getting Rich, and Women—He Didn

"Don't say Director Fan isn't looking out for you." Li Shiyao advised.

"What do you mean?" Chen Guanlou asked quickly.

He had just been worrying—now that Director Fan was gone, who would be the new jailer? Would he be as easygoing as Fan? Please don't send someone who stirs up trouble for no reason, let alone a greedy, cruel official.

Li Shiyao reminded him: "New officials don't inquire into their predecessors' accounts. Got it?"

Chen Guanlou opened his mouth, understanding—thoroughly. This was a hint to cook the books, to do it boldly, with Director Fan covering his back. Before leaving office, Fan would surely make one last big haul to cover the losses from bribes and connections.

Li Shiyao, fearing he hadn't grasped the essence, added another warning: "Relax. Don't be afraid."

Chen Guanlou: …

Director Fan had nothing to fear—he'd been promoted. The successor wouldn't be so foolish as to cause trouble. But Chen Guanlou was different—he'd still be working in the Tianlao. If he went too far and stirred up outrage, he might become the chicken sacrificed to scare the monkeys when the new official took over.

No one wanted to be the chicken.

Chen Guanlou didn't either.

But he couldn't say so—he had to act eager to get rich, fool Li Shiyao into believing he fully understood the plan, and promise to cooperate fully with Director Fan so Fan could make his final fortune.

Li Shiyao left satisfied. Chen Guanlou then led his men to the Ministry of Justice to collect documents and receipts, then headed to the Changping Granary for grain.

While collecting documents at the Ministry of Justice, he heard news: the court had decided, ordering the Grand Lord to return to the capital as soon as possible. The official edict had already been sent to Jinzhou.

When the Grand Lord left the capital, he brought three thousand troops from the Imperial Garrison.

Now, returning to the capital, he was ordered to travel light—the three thousand troops would remain in Jinzhou, and the court would appoint replacements. Command authority would be split into three parts, divided among three men to check each other.

Classic power division.

Standard court procedure.

As the party involved, the Grand Lord couldn't say the court was wrong. After all, the original purpose for deploying him had been achieved; further military operations no longer required him. As a nobleman, a marquis, he was unsuitable to remain long in the army. Returning to the capital to live in luxury was better for the old emperor and the court ministers' peace of mind.

The court's rules were what they were—no talk of throwing away the millstone after the donkey was done.

All one could say was that the court had never relaxed its guard against noble generals. Better to spend more money, endure more delays, risk battlefield setbacks—than let a general grow too powerful.

The Grand Lord had expected this. He accepted it calmly. But his Chen clan youths were outraged, cursing the court for playing tunes out of tune, rushing to throw away the millstone without understanding the situation. Did they really think Jinzhou was peaceful now?

Hmph!

Dream on!

Grand Lord Da Ming had led his elite forces into the Great Ming Mountain range, lying in wait. They could strike again at any moment.

This campaign, on the surface, looked brilliant—but it left massive hidden dangers. Had the Grand Lord remained in Jinzhou to command both military and civil affairs, two years of consolidation could have utterly crushed the rebel flame and brought true peace to the realm.

Alas, court ministers distrusted the Grand Lord. The old emperor didn't trust him—even though he'd acted indifferent and was disabled.

The biting north wind whipped across his face as the Grand Lord rode a chestnut stallion, letting the wind sting his cheeks.

He told his strategist: "This campaign of mine was truly a failure. I'm no longer what I once was!"

"Your Lordship is too modest!"

"I'm not being modest—I'm speaking plainly. On the surface, this campaign has kept Grand Lord Da Ming from launching attacks for two or three years, and Jinzhou's situation is mostly stable. But the subordinate officers acted on their own, ignoring orders, exposing the weaknesses of the imperial army. Combined with supply shortages and the court's lack of funds, it has revealed the court's true state to every ambitious man in the realm. I fear this campaign didn't suppress certain ambitions—it only stoked them further. If war breaks out again, I will be the guilty one!"

The Grand Lord's heart was filled with sorrow and regret.

Too many people in the court were dragging their feet.

Had he not mobilized his powerful connections in the capital and rallied the nobles to help, the supplies and bonuses might still not have arrived. Jinzhou would have suffered another military disaster.

"Those not in position should not meddle in affairs," the strategist said. "The Emperor once was wise and mighty. He must clearly see the state of the realm. Since he has decided to recall you, he clearly doesn't fear those ambitious men."

"The Emperor is too close to the matter—he's still lost in past glories," the Grand Lord said openly, surrounded by his own men, mostly Chen clan youths.

The strategist sighed. "The Emperor is obsessed with Daoist cultivation, favors Jiang Tu, and has turned the court into a mess. Jiang Tu's men have infiltrated local posts, corrupting governance. These things have been clearly exposed by censors. Yet the Emperor turns a blind eye—and grows ever harsher toward the Crown Prince. If this continues… Your Lordship returning to the capital is better. Stay away from these quarrels, seek peace. It's a wise choice."

The Grand Lord said nothing. He gazed at the distant rolling mountains, where Grand Lord Da Ming and his remnants hid, barely clinging to life. But unless Jinzhou changed, someone would rise again. The rebels in Jinzhou grew large not just because of natural disasters—most of all, it was human misrule.

Jinzhou was rotten to the core—its exploitation of the people reached an appalling level.

Too bad the Grand Lord was about to leave Jinzhou. The people there could only pray for luck.

He ordered his Chen clan youths to remain in the army, taking only his personal guards and strategist back to the capital. The Chen family's foundation was military merit—passed from generation to generation. That was how the Hou Fu maintained its wealth across generations.

His eldest son was already in the army, but to avoid court suspicion, he hadn't joined the Jinzhou campaign. Instead, he commanded troops in the south, surrounded by his own group of Chen clan youths.

"In two days, I'll depart for the capital. I leave Jinzhou in your hands. When the new official arrives, don't oppose him. Do exactly as he orders. Give him full face. He'll respect you out of deference to me. Soldiers eat grain—but fighting alone isn't enough. You need brains. Think before you act. Ask questions often."

The Grand Lord repeated his advice endlessly to the Chen clan youths. Two days later, he departed Jinzhou, escorted by all the officers.

When he arrived, his army had surrounded him, radiating power.

Now he left, accompanied by only a hundred personal guards—lonely and bleak.

Yet the cargo wagons stretched for miles.

Whether the Grand Lord won the battle or not, he'd certainly made a fortune.

Among the wagons were several carriages, carrying beautiful women gifted by local magnates. One of them was pregnant.

The Grand Lord went to war, crushed the rebels, amassed a fortune, and sired an heir—all without missing a beat.

A true man's model!