Chapter 205

"What kind of deal? I'm short on time—get to the point."

Chen Guanlou's expression clearly showed impatience. He looked like a crude, unrefined fool, utterly mercenary. Seeing Liu Daowen on the brink of death, he decisively turned his back on him.

"I don't want to die." As Liu Daowen saw Chen Guanlou return to the cell door, he spoke with urgency, tension, and a flicker of certainty. His certainty wasn't directed at Chen Guanlou—it was self-encouragement: It can be done. It will work. I must believe in myself.

"You've said that already." Chen Guanlou's expression was cold, like a man who'd just zipped his pants and denied everything.

"Chen Tou, save me."

Chen Guanlou gave him a withering look. "If you keep blabbering like this, I'm leaving right now—and there won't be a next time."

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you. I have money—lots and lots of money."

Chen Guanlou nodded knowingly. He already knew the man had money.

Liu Daowen glanced around, leaned closer, and lowered his voice even further. "I've hidden a fortune outside—astronomical sums. No one else knows. If you can save me, we split it fifty-fifty. What do you say?"

Chen Guanlou stared hard at him, saying nothing.

Liu Daowen panicked. "Yes or no—give me a straight answer. I really have money. Cash not recorded in any ledger. The Embroidered Uniform Guard can't find it."

Chen Guanlou took a deep breath and spoke solemnly. "Liu Da Ren, this is the Heavenly Prison. If they've ordered your execution, they'll conduct multiple rounds of identity verification before beheading you. You're the famous Liu Da Ren—everyone in the court knows you, don't they? And if it's exile, there are still multiple rounds of verification. Tell me, isn't your idea a bit… fanciful?"

Liu Daowen choked, at a loss for words.

Chen Guanlou continued. "Before you, there were many smarter, richer officials. Do you think they never thought of this? Did they just accept death? Liu Da Ren, this is a time of peace, with a wise sovereign on the throne. You bring your petty schemes to the Heavenly Prison—are you tired of living, or do you want me dead too?"

"But I really don't want to die."

"No one wants to die." Chen Guanlou snorted. "The verdict hasn't even come down yet—why the rush? By the way, why did the Embroidered Uniform Guard search your mansion? What else haven't you confessed?"

"I don't know!" Liu Daowen looked utterly innocent and wronged. "I just embezzled a little silver. I truly don't know why the Embroidered Uniform Guard targeted me. I'll give them all my money—just beg them to spare me."

Chen Guanlou sneered. "How nice for you. Liu Da Ren, I advise you to settle down and make peace with your final days. Don't stir up trouble or drag innocent people into this."

"But… so much money. You don't care?"

"No amount of money matters more than your life."

"One hundred thousand! Once the court passes judgment, if you get me out, I'll give you one hundred thousand taels. What do you say?" Liu Daowen watched Chen Guanlou with desperate hope.

Chen Guanlou was tempted.

One hundred thousand taels!

He wasn't worth that much even if sold.

But…

Chen Guanlou shook his head, refusing. "Liu Da Ren, don't tempt me. No amount of money is worth more than your life. Take your money, and I'll have the means to spend it—but not the life to enjoy it. Don't give me trouble, or I'll make you regret it—let you taste what it means to wish for death."

"Chen Tou, you can't turn your back on me! We've had our bond—give me at least a chance!"

"Dream on!" Chen Guanlou raised his staff and slammed it hard against the cell bars. "Calm down. No wonder Jiang Tu abandoned you—you have none of the composure befitting a court official. You panic at the first sign of trouble and never think of the consequences."

"Have you thought about this? If your fanciful plan succeeds, how many heads will fall because of you? How many will be dragged down? Don't you think they'll hate you? If they can't find you, won't they take it out on your family? From your mother down to your children—anyone left alive in your Liu household will die a miserable death. Are you sure you want this?"

Liu Daowen collapsed onto the floor, dazed, surrounded by an aura of utter despair.

That's right…

If he escaped, what would happen to his family?

Countless people would be implicated—and they'd seek revenge on his household. It would become a feud to the death.

Liu Daowen burst into sobs, wailing uncontrollably, tears and snot smeared across his face.

Chen Guanlou instructed the jailer to watch Liu Daowen closely—don't let him harm himself—and then left.

He was in good spirits—not just because he was about to make a fortune, but because last night's duel with the fifth-rank martialist Xiao Jin had given him a clear sense of his own strength.

His blade technique was clearly superior to Xiao Jin's sword art. With equal cultivation, he'd crushed Xiao Jin under his blade. Had his great knife not been forged from inferior materials, inferior to Xiao Jin's famed sword, he could have killed him on the spot with a better blade.

That was a fifth-rank powerhouse!

He now had the ability to slay a fifth-rank martialist—how could he not be elated?

But he needed a new blade. He would spend a fortune to forge a true masterpiece—a legendary sword.

Then he thought again: he needed weapons to kill others, which meant his cultivation of Heaven and Man as One was still incomplete. If he truly reached that realm, even without a blade in hand, his mind would hold the blade—every thing in heaven and earth would become his weapon, capable of slaying any man.

His heart brimmed with determination.

After work, he went home.

As he stepped inside, he froze.

Someone had been here.

Though every object remained exactly where it should be, he was certain: someone had entered. The intruder was a master—at least in the art of ransacking.

To ransack thoroughly and return every item to its exact original place—without a trace—was the work of a seasoned expert.

Chen Guanlou extended a finger and lightly wiped the tabletop.

The surface was clean.

But there was a faint, barely visible mark—a streak where dust had been wiped away.

A strand of hair still clung to the corner of the desk—truly a master. Yet the dust mark on the table betrayed the truth.

He sneered, then sat down as if nothing had happened.

Who?

Who was watching him?

This house was ancestral. He lived here as a mere jailer—his background was plain, transparent. Ask anyone, and they'd know his story. Such an ordinary, unremarkable identity—and yet a master searcher had come?

What were they looking for?

His gaze swept the room. Nothing of value. No secrets.

Had his secret identity been exposed?

Had someone found out he collected goods for the Grand Secretary?

Did the Embroidered Uniform Guard suspect him?

Or had Qi Laoda traced him?

Had someone slipped tracking powder on him during last night's duel with Xiao Jin?

Or had someone tampered with the goods prepared by Liu's steward?