Chapter 263: Preparing for a Job Hop

Neither of them could convince the other; each had his own views and convictions.

Chen Chen Guanlou hoped Zhao Mingqiao could handle things more tactfully—get the job done first, achieve the goal, then worry about integrity and faith and the like.

Zhao Mingqiao, however, believed that the most important thing in life was not getting things done but being a proper person—one must hold the line, uphold the words of the sages, fulfill one's integrity, and keep faith. Without these, no matter how capable one was at handling affairs, in the end one would only be a petty, self-seeking scoundrel.

How stubborn scholars could be—Chen Chen Guanlou had truly seen it now.

No wonder Liu Daowen could become a corrupt official, no wonder Yu Yu Zhaoan could have his "Longchang enlightenment."

Zhao Mingqiao was too young, lacking the beatings society had to offer. Better let him stay in prison a while longer and do a few more years of study.

With just about a month left before the New Year, the Grand Master, in his capacity as Grand Commander-in-Chief for Suppressing the Bandits, finally set out for the northwest with several hundred personal guards.

The old Emperor had ultimately compromised after all.

After dragging things out for so long, the court had failed to reach any conclusion through argument, and instead the rebels had benefited.

Guo Guo Dachun had launched frequent attacks, swallowing up the surrounding prefectures in one breath. He now held territory spanning four prefectures and eighteen counties, which connected on the map into a long dragon—able to strike north or south. Extremely mobile.

The veteran rebel Great Ming King, by contrast, acted very conservatively, currently holding only five counties, looking every inch the steady, methodical type. He did not measure success or failure by gains and losses of territory, but aimed to build an overwhelming combat advantage in military strength.

Guo Guo Dachun was far too brazen, overshadowing Great Ming King, so much so that both the court and the local governments had fixed their sights on this freshly minted rebel.

The man was a professional—formerly a military company commander on the frontier, he had spent over a decade fighting at the border. Compared to Great Ming King, that latecomer predecessor, he was far stronger in the art of war. As for management? Of course he had his own ideas; he understood the importance of a base. Only he did not consolidate his hold as steadily as Great Ming King did. He gave people the impression that he might bolt at any moment.

Toward such an arrogant rebel, the court's attitude was to strike hard, wipe him out in one blow, show no mercy. The implication was that even if prisoners were taken, only low-ranking rebels would be accepted. The rebel leadership was to be killed outright. They must not, as last time, leave behind such a great menace hidden in the mountains, ready to emerge again and cause trouble.

The long delay in sending troops did have one benefit: the provisions and armaments were fully prepared, and a sum of marching funds had been set aside as well.

The Ministry of Revenue bore most of the resources needed for this campaign. For the remainder, the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of War joined forces, acted first and reported afterward, and intercepted the supplies directly from Jiang Tu.

Upon learning the news, Jiang Tu wasted no words and went straight into the palace to lodge a complaint—accusing the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of War of seizing the old Emperor's privy purse. Those supplies and that silver had originally been destined for the treasury, to be added to the privy purse. Now all of it had been snatched away by the two ministries acting together.

He used the word "seize"—a term with tremendous emotional impact.

The old Emperor blew up on the spot.

The bristling old Emperor looked terrifying, yet quickly calmed down again.

The old Emperor did not punish the officials of the Ministry of Revenue or the Ministry of War, and spoke kindly to the two Ministers in admonishment. But in the blink of an eye, he found a pretext to send the two Ministers' favorite protégés off to serve as officials in remote regions. A thorough demotion.

Before the old Emperor died, they would probably never return to Jingcheng.

Such petty vindictiveness!

The Minister of Revenue was somewhat disheartened. He had not embezzled; he had only taken his customary share of the profits, as was the rule of officialdom. If he did not take it, naturally the officials below him would not dare to take it either. If no one took it, no one could get ahead. He asked himself whether, over all these years as Minister of Revenue, he had been fairly competent—the matters that needed handling might have been delayed, but in the end they had all been resolved.

This time, intercepting Jiang Tu's silver had also been done to deal with the northwestern rebels, with no selfish motive. Yet his favorite protégé had been demoted by the old Emperor and sent off to serve as an official in a remote mountain region. Once gone, it was unclear whether it would be seven or eight years, or ten-odd. The finest years of one's life would be wasted.

In a foul mood, he secretly cursed the old Emperor as mean and vicious, too narrow-minded, utterly lacking the breadth and bearing of a true sovereign. Just then, His Highness the Crown Prince sent a friendly signal, and he responded decisively.

In the past, he had never taken part in the struggles among the Imperial Princes; he sympathized with the Crown Prince, but never involved himself. He had no faction—if forced to name one, he was a pure minister, loyal only to the throne.

But this time, he changed his mind.

He hoped His Highness the Crown Prince could ascend the throne as soon as possible; the old Emperor could not be allowed to keep harming the realm and the court. The old Emperor had lived too long—nearly fifty years as Emperor—the very thought was terrifying.

Abdicating in favor of the worthy was as it should be!

He was not alone in thinking this way.

Everyone had had enough of the old Emperor's caprices—an old fool, cultivating the Dao and favoring sycophants, the textbook behavior of a tyrant, utterly contemptible.

These people gathered together, an undercurrent surging through Jingcheng, ready to erupt at any moment.

……

Chen Chen Guanlou walked through the deep and terrifying Imperial Prison, his heart uneasy, somewhat on edge.

He had come to the Imperial Prison not to serve a sentence, but to transfer two prisoners.

Two prisoners had been tortured so severely that their lives hung by a thread. The Imperial Prison wished to keep them alive, but conditions there were even harsher than in the Celestial Prison, utterly unsuitable for recovery. So some clever soul came up with the idea of transferring the prisoners to the Celestial Prison to recuperate, while on paper they remained incarcerated at the Imperial Prison. It would only occupy two cells in the Celestial Prison, not counting against the quota.

Against all reason, Warden Niu actually agreed.

Warden Niu's explanation was that Sun Sun Daoning might dismiss him at any moment, so he wanted to take the opportunity to build good relations with the various government offices, preparing for a job hop.

The Imperial Prison side had promised him certain benefits, so he was willing to take the risk of transferring two prisoners.

Chen Chen Guanlou asked him, "What if the prisoners die in the Celestial Prison?"

"Life and death are in heaven's hands—we won't be held responsible, right?"

"Are you sure? Is there a written agreement?"

"How could something like that leave a written record? I know what you're worried about. Go ahead and transfer the prisoners without concern. Have the medical officer treat them well; all expenses go through the public account. It's settled."

His superior had already made the decision—what could Chen Chen Guanlou do? He was still counting on Warden Niu to fulfill his promise and promote him to prison clerk, at least a small step forward.

He did not like the Imperial Prison; the moment he stepped into the place, he confirmed it.

Two blood-soaked prisoners lay sprawled in their cell, their condition unknown.

He clicked his tongue in distaste—still, the Grade-A cells were better; at least there were no blood-soaked scenes.

Blood—human blood—attracted all manner of bedbugs and flies. Even in the dead of winter, the stench was sharp enough. In summer, the conditions inside that cell were unimaginable; the flies would probably cover every surface. No wonder every one of the ten jailers on duty in such an environment turned into a pervert.

"Carry them out, carry them out! Let me state clearly—if the prisoners die in the Celestial Prison, we will not be held responsible."

"Best if their lives can be saved. If not, then so be it."

"Your Imperial Prison's medical officers are so brilliant—surely they can save them."

"The transfer to the Celestial Prison was actually proposed by the medical officer. He said conditions here were unsuitable for recovery, and the Celestial Prison was cleaner."

Chen Chen Guanlou: ……

No way to argue with that!