Chapter 237: The Popular Version: Why Not Eat Meat Porridge?

The Hou Fu's clan school shut down, abruptly.

One day it was in session; the next, they were notified to suspend classes.

Master Du stared in bewilderment as parents came to take their children home.

He rushed to the Grand Master to seek guidance; the Grand Master told him not to panic—the school's closure was only temporary, and it would reopen next year. He was to remain at home and continue his studies, with his stipend unchanged.

Master Du remained baffled—why was this happening?

The Grand Master kindly reminded him, "Don't go outside lately. Stay within the Hou Fu grounds for your own safety. Tell Chen Guanlou not to acquire antiques or calligraphy for now—I'm cultivating my nature and spirit. We'll talk again after the new year."

Master Du returned home with a heart full of questions, ordered his old servant to buy wine and dishes, and invited Chen Guanlou over for dinner.

Chen Guanlou finished his duty, changed into everyday clothes, and headed to Master Du's house.

After some time apart, they naturally exchanged pleasantries.

"The Grand Master suddenly ordered the clan school shut, and no one knows when it'll resume. He says next year—but when exactly is next year? Even though the stipend still comes, I can't just take the money without teaching—it unsettles me."

"What's there to be unsettled about?" Chen Guanlou drank his wine. "Take the money in peace, focus on your studies, and stop overthinking."

Master Du frowned. "Tell me why the Grand Master suddenly shut the school. I also heard he imposed a house arrest on the entire Hou Fu—no one may leave without cause. Even the year-end banquet was canceled. The second branch was furious and took it to the Old Lady, but the Grand Master held firm and refused to budge."

Chen Guanlou set down his cup, pursed his lips, and said, "I might actually know the reason."

"You do?" Master Du was stunned, his expression one of disbelief.

"I'm only guessing—I can't guarantee it's right," Chen Guanlou said.

Master Du leaned forward urgently. "Quick, quick—old man can't wait anymore. Whether right or wrong, at least give me a direction. If I don't understand why, my head will explode." He slapped his own head a few times—this mystery had tormented him.

Chen Guanlou gathered his thoughts before speaking. "A few days ago, the Zhao Prison was stormed. You know about that, right?"

"Of course I do!"

"The Tianlaomiao was raided too, but that's not the point—the point is the Zhao Prison was breached. I heard the last time it happened was fifty years ago, right at the end of the late Emperor's reign, during the fiercest succession struggle. Anyway, the news reached the palace. Unreliable whispers say the old Emperor flew into a rage and issued a kill-on-sight order: anyone linked to the cultists, no matter their rank or status, will be punished severely. Capture a cultist, big or small, and execute their entire clan."

"How does this relate to the Grand Master's house arrest?" Master Du still didn't get it.

Chen Guanlou lowered his voice. "Rumors say many have died in the palace lately—especially in the Taiji Palace."

Master Du's cloudy eyes widened. "Where did you hear that? Is it true?"

Chen Guanlou whispered, "I'm a jailer—I deal with all kinds in the capital. This came from the Imperial Mortuary—they handle the palace corpses. Do you think that source is reliable?"

Master Du stared blankly, slapping his head. "You've told me all this, and at first glance, these two things seem unrelated. But they both point to one man—the old Emperor. Could he really be this furious over a prison break? That's impossible. It's not like the sky fell or the earth cracked. Is it really worth it?"

Chen Guanlou nodded. "At first, I thought the same. Just a prison break—punish the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and that's it. Why the overreaction? But the mass deaths in the palace began precisely after the Zhao Prison raid. Jiang Tu's plundering of Dongzhou also started then. You can't ignore the connection."

Chen Guanlou had initially thought the old Emperor was overreacting—just a prison break. Surely, a few whippings for the Embroidered Uniform Guard would suffice. Why the massive crackdown?

Yet the old Emperor had gone all out.

Rumors now claimed Jiang Tu was plundering Dongzhou because the old Emperor couldn't calm his rage—he needed the blood of Dongzhou's people and the nine clans of the cultists to appease his fury.

The source of this rumor was uncertain, its accuracy unconfirmed—but it suddenly unlocked Chen Guanlou's understanding.

If the rumor was true, everything made sense.

For some reason, the Zhao Prison raid had ignited the old Emperor's fury—a terror so great that anyone who touched it died. Hence, Jiang Tu plundered Dongzhou, people died daily in the Taiji Palace, the court was gripped by fear, and the Grand Master ordered the Hou Fu under house arrest.

"The old Emperor is…" Master Du instinctively lowered his voice, glancing around before continuing, "mad?"

Chen Guanlou chuckled. "Of course he's mad—he's been mad since he started seeking the Dao for immortality."

Master Du sighed. "If this keeps up, the people will suffer. My son wrote me that the government raised taxes again—four tax collections this year for labor exemptions. I've never seen anything like it in my life. Only the capital is slightly better, with fewer random levies."

"Taxes raised again? I didn't hear anything." Chen Guanlou was shocked—he lived in the capital, worked in the Tianlaomiao, yet had no knowledge of this tax hike.

"So far, it's only in the southeast—Jiangnan and Jiangbei. You wouldn't know yet. But next year, it may spread nationwide."

"When the rebels rose in Jinzhou, the court didn't raise taxes. Back then, officials still cared for the people, saying the burden was too heavy, forcing the old Emperor to dip into the imperial treasury. Now that the rebels are crushed, they're raising taxes. This is madness."

Chen Guanlou couldn't understand the logic of the court officials.

"What's hard to understand? The old Emperor spent money—he has to make it back. When Jinzhou rebelled, they couldn't raise taxes for fear of sparking unrest and shaking the foundation. Now that the Jinzhou rebels are crushed, he doesn't fear local uprisings—he can just send troops to crush them."

Master Du had insight—he'd clearly seen similar nonsense before, and knew how it worked.

"So life in the provinces is truly hard. Only the capital, beneath the Son of Heaven's feet, stands apart."

Rabbits don't eat the grass around their burrows.

The old Emperor understood this well. He always avoided plundering the capital's people. Thus, among the capital's populace, his reputation remained decent. Even when they cursed, they cursed the officials—they rarely called the old Emperor a foolish ruler.

This special privilege granted the capital's people comfort—but it also dulled their senses.

Chen Guanlou was sharp and well-informed, yet even he hadn't felt the hardship of the times. Ordinary folk were surely even slower to understand why the provinces were constantly in turmoil—eastern rebels one day, western rebels the next. Why ruin good lives by rebelling?

The popular version: Why not eat meat porridge?