Chapter 229

"Why should I be the one to pay?"

Jiang Tu roared angrily. It had always been money coming in, never going out—how dare the Marquis of Pingjiang set his sights on him? This was too much!

The messenger was Huang Defa, the adopted son of Qiu Defu, who stared nervously at the raging Jiang Tu, though inside he was laughing himself into fits.

Only after Jiang Tu finished venting did he speak: "Lord Jiang, you are the Emperor's most loyal minister—you must share His Majesty's burdens!"

Jiang Tu glared. He respected Qiu Defu, but he had no respect for Huang Defa. "What are you implying?"

"His Majesty is fully aware of this matter," Huang Defa bowed slightly. "Please, Lord Jiang, do not delay His Majesty's great undertaking."

Jiang Tu frowned. "Huang Eunuch, speak plainly. What exactly does that crippled Marquis of Pingjiang want?"

"The Marquis says you provide the money, and he will take the lead—willingly shoulder this task for His Majesty—and he guarantees no less than five hundred thousand taels."

"Five hundred thousand taels? Does he have the means to raise that much?"

"That's why we need your assistance—it's also His Majesty's wish."

"There's no way I'm paying one hundred thousand taels. Why doesn't the cripple just rob me?" Jiang Tu fumed. He had every reason to suspect the Marquis of Pingjiang was using this as an excuse to extort him.

Huang Defa lowered his eyes, said nothing, and merely sipped his tea. He had delivered the message. Whether Jiang Tu acted or not was none of his concern. If this delayed His Majesty's affairs, the blame would not fall on him—he was only the messenger, not the one who had to pay silver.

"That cripple is pushing too far! How can the Emperor tolerate him so? No—I'm going straight to the Palace to petition His Majesty!"

Hearing this, Huang Defa immediately rose. "Then I shall return to the Palace to report." With that, he left Jiang Fu with his young eunuch attendants.

Once he was gone, Jiang Tu calmed down.

One hundred thousand taels meant little to him. What angered him was being outmaneuvered by that cripple. He hadn't sought trouble with him, yet the cripple struck first—how outrageous! Clearly, the cripple believed he dared not fight two fronts at once. With the civil officials already locked in mortal struggle, if he now provoked the military nobility and they all joined the fray, the scene he could not even imagine.

Jiang Tu's face remained stern. Years of smooth sailing had made him arrogant—he'd survived battles with civil officials, survived confrontations with military officers, and now he wondered: Should he seize this chance to test the weight of the nobility?

After much deliberation, reason prevailed.

"A gentleman takes revenge after ten years—it's never too late. I'll deal with that cripple eventually."

He would relieve the old Emperor's burdens by paying one hundred thousand taels—and he must make sure the Emperor saw him, praised his contribution again and again. Paying one hundred thousand taels meant reaping double the benefits.

Once he grasped this logic, Jiang Tu was delighted, already planning exactly how to flatter the old Emperor and demand his reward.

…

In the Tianlaomiao, the jailers wore thick padded coats and huddled inside, warming themselves by fires. Such bitter cold made none of them eager to descend into the dungeon—it was freezing enough to kill a man.

While warming themselves, they received terrible news.

Due to the snow disaster, countless homes had collapsed and many civilians had died; the court decided to provide relief. But the treasury lacked sufficient silver, so officials, nobles, and wealthy households were ordered to donate. Even the jailers of Tianlaomiao were not spared—they too had to contribute.

"Why us?"

"We earn barely anything—now they want us to donate? I won't take this job anymore."

"Public food, public food—this meal is half-cooked."

"How much exactly are we supposed to give? Has it been specified?"

"The court is outrageous! Even our meager silver they covet. I don't believe the court is truly this poor. Even if it were, why target us? Those high officials, noble families, imperial relatives—all are filthy rich. If the Palace simply built fewer halls, they'd have all the silver they need."

"Shh! Are you trying to get yourself killed? Don't talk like that!"

"Who dares stop the Emperor from building palaces? Look at those imprisoned officials in the cells—that's their fate."

"Quiet down. Officer Niu has ordered everyone to pay at least two hundred cash coins—submit within three days."

"This is robbery!"

"That's too much!"

"Sell me off, then."

"I can't take this job anymore."

The entire Tianlaomiao was in chaos—everyone groaned and complained.

Officer Niu couldn't stand the noise outside. He ordered his trusted subordinate Xiao Xu: "Silence the jailers. This commotion is disgraceful."

Xiao Xu had been promoted from the county yamen, had served him for over a decade, and was utterly trustworthy. After bringing him over, Officer Niu maneuvered to secure him the position of jail clerk—but kept him out of the dungeons, assigning him only to handle paperwork. This arrangement relieved the overseers of the three main cells—A, B, and C—immensely. As long as Officer Niu had no intention of replacing them, he was a good official.

Xiao Xu was shrewd. He was new and lacked authority. The jailers were in an uproar—they might not obey him.

After careful thought, he issued orders to the three overseers of Cells A, B, and C: each must control their own men. If he could restrain the three main cells, the rest of the idle jailers would fall in line.

Xu Fugui, overseer of Cell B, agreed readily and acted swiftly.

In Cell A, Little Fan was unavailable, so Chen Guanlou had to step forward.

The moment Chen Guanlou appeared, he glared and said only one thing: "Don't you all have work to do?"

At his words, the jailers scattered like birds.

The authority, the intimidation—Xu Fugui and the others stared in stunned silence.

"Little Chen, you're impressive! The jailers in Cell A all obey you. Why not tell Officer Niu to make you an official clerk?" Xu Fugui grinned broadly.

Chen Guanlou's face dropped instantly. "Uncle Xu, why are you trying to ruin me? We've never had any quarrel…"

"How am I ruining you? Look—you do a clerk's work without the title. Let Officer Niu promote you—I'm looking out for your good!"

"Uncle Xu, if you truly care for me, stop talking. Little Fan is just busy today—I'm only helping out. But now you turn it into a power grab. What do you think I am?"

Deep down, Chen Guanlou despised Xu Fugui—his mouth was foul, he couldn't stand others' success, and he deliberately stirred conflict in Cell A. He was a vile man. He must be taught a harsh lesson soon.

"You're so worked up. Fine, I won't say another word." Xu Fugui grinned. He had indeed hoped to fan the flames and watch the show.

Once a lowly jailer, he'd risen in just two or three years—made plenty of silver, and even sidelined Officer Fan. Hmph. If he didn't get a taste of pain, this young pup wouldn't know his place.

To accept that a former lowly jailer now stood on equal footing with him? Impossible. He must crush him.

Zhang Yu, the overseer of Cell B, watched the whole scene in silence. He was clever—he never took sides lightly.

He understood Xu Fugui's intentions.

But he didn't believe Xu Fugui had the power to defeat Chen Guanlou.

Chen Guanlou wasn't an ordinary jailer—he was backed by the Hou Fu, and had no shortage of silver. Officer Niu was a native of Jingcheng; the fact that he chose to favor Chen Guanlou showed he understood the underworld of the capital well.