Chapter 270: The Uncrossable New Year

A few days later, Chen Guanlou went down to the cellblock and told the Meng brothers that Zhao Laosi's younger brother had been arrested. A few days after that, he informed them again that the younger brother's case had implicated Zhao Laosi. A few days later, fresh news arrived: the Embroidered Uniform Guard had invited Zhao Laosi for tea.

The two Meng brothers knelt on the ground, banging their heads against the floor with thuds, not caring how hard the ground was.

Chen Guanlou cleared his throat and said, "No need for this. You paid. Paying for services rendered is only natural."

Yet the brothers still knelt and banged their heads, mouths open, mumbling incoherently—as if expressing gratitude. Then Meng the Second slammed his head into the wall, as if his purpose were fulfilled and he intended to end his life right then.

Chen Guanlou quickly called out, "What are you doing? What are you doing? I already told you—if you're going to die, die far away. Don't turn the cellblock into a bloodbath. It's hard to clean up, you know? The Heavenly Prison isn't the Imperial Prison. On my turf, everyone must try to stay clean. That's enough. Leave it at that."

With that, he left.

He knew full well the Meng brothers hadn't abandoned their desire to die, nor had he ever intended to stop them. But death didn't have to be messy. There were so many ways to die—why not choose a clean, dignified one?

On the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month, five days had passed since Zhao Laosi was summoned to the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and he still hadn't been released. Clearly, he was going to bleed heavily—perhaps even be dragged to the interrogation chamber.

Early that morning, Chen Guanlou reported for duty and led his jailers on a patrol of the cellblock.

When they reached the cell door of the Meng brothers, one of the jailers shouted, "Chief Chen, look!"

Dead!

Both brothers were dead!

No blood, no broken heads. They had torn their clothes into strips, tied them into two ropes, and hanged themselves from the cell door. The ropes were too short—their feet could touch the ground. All they had to do was lower their feet to survive. But in their determination to die, they curled their feet up, refusing to let them touch the ground. Even in death, their feet remained tightly curled.

The bodies had stiffened; their curled feet could no longer be straightened.

This sight pierced every sense.

How resolute must one's desire to die be, to do this?

"Why go to such lengths?" Chen Guanlou sighed inwardly. "Send someone to the Imperial Prison next door. Tell them the prisoners are theirs. Now they're dead—have their medical officer come to examine the bodies and assign laborers to move them. Qian Fugui, prepare the bill. Deliver it to the Imperial Prison later."

Even blood brothers settle accounts clearly—how much more so when the two sides aren't even brothers? They were merely colleagues. Everyone hoped their fellow jailers would die, and none would let the other gain a single copper.

When Warden Niu heard the news, he said, "Good riddance! Get the Imperial Prison to clean up quickly. Have someone scrub the place thoroughly, sprinkle some quicklime to ward off the bad luck."

"You're absolutely right, sir. The Imperial Prison next door is cursed—even their prisoners are cursed," Chen Guanlou agreed.

Warden Niu laughed heartily, praised Chen Guanlou briefly, then turned to business: "After the New Year, I may be transferred to another office. Don't worry—I've already submitted a report recommending you for the post of jail clerk. Your impression on Master Sun is deep; I'm sure the promotion will go smoothly."

Hearing this, Chen Guanlou was overjoyed. "Thank you, sir! Your grace is a second birth—I shall never forget it!"

"You've done well lately. We help each other," Warden Niu said, in high spirits. With Chen Guanlou cooperating, he'd been raking in money until his hands ached. He'd used the cash to open doors, forged connections, and now only waited for the New Year to leave the Heavenly Prison.

This place was deep water. No wonder no Warden of the Heavenly Prison ever lasted long.

Chen Guanlou looked forward to promotion and wealth. This Spring Festival, he was especially happy—he sent his elder sister a generous gift, silencing Su Pozi's endless nagging. He sent a New Year gift to Master Du and another to Hou Fu.

The Master had treated him well—he knew gratitude. Though the Master was not in the capital, the gift still had to be sent. He used the back gate, told the gatekeeper to specify delivery to the First House.

He avoided the Second House entirely—neither contacted nor sent a gift. Better to pretend ignorance.

Aunt Chunxiang had helped him often—she received a gift too. She beamed, teeth showing, happily accepted it, and kept him for a meal.

Old Qu, across the way, had made money this year and prepared a small token for every neighbor. The gifts weren't valuable, but the thought counted.

Chen Guanlou returned the favor with the traditional items: pastries, five catties of pork, and a jar of wine.

Mrs. Qu received him.

Chen Guanlou asked casually, "Old Qu has been busy lately, hasn't he?"

"End-of-year accounting kept us busy—more than usual. Aren't you busy too, Chief Chen?"

"Busy! Everyone's busy! The Heavenly Prison has to celebrate the New Year too—plenty of work left. I've got to get back and finish up. No more chatting—goodbye!"

Chen Guanlou departed decisively. Mrs. Qu personally saw him out, watching until he entered the courtyard gate before turning away.

Normally, during the New Year, all government offices sought only peace. The court wouldn't launch major cases or make arrests then. The old Emperor himself valued good fortune—he wouldn't imprison anyone during the holiday.

Whatever it is, wait until after the New Year.

The Heavenly Prison's interrogation chamber sealed its blades on the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth lunar month, not reopening until after the Lantern Festival.

Lu Datou complained, "At least interrogate a few more. Make some cash for the New Year!"

"You didn't lose all your New Year money gambling, did you?"

"No, not that bad," Lu Datou said, turning away guiltily, avoiding Chen Guanlou's piercing gaze.

Chen Guanlou kicked him. "You'll die at a gambling table someday. What'll you do for the New Year?"

"Heh… heh…" Lu Datou could only laugh awkwardly—he didn't know what to do. Everyone knew he was a gambler; no one would lend him money during the holiday. Even moneylenders outside refused to lend to gamblers—they considered it bad luck. You had to wait until after the Lantern Festival.

This was effectively driving him to death.

His wife at home had already begun her wrath. Last night, the couple had fought. He hadn't prepared the New Year gift for the children's teacher. Oh, where didn't he need to spend money?

Chen Guanlou snorted and turned away.

"Chief Chen! Chief Chen…"

Lu Datou called out urgently. He had no one else to rely on now.

Chen Guanlou told him, "From now on, I'll only lend money to your wife. You won't get a single copper from me."

"No! I'm a grown man with not even a copper coin—I'm so embarrassed!"

Serves you right!

Chen Guanlou's face darkened, his gaze heavy with warning. "Don't follow me. If you want to be my brother, behave yourself during the holiday."

That night, he visited Lu's home and left ten taels of silver with Lu's wife for New Year expenses.

Lu's wife was grateful but flustered. "I can't repay you."

"Don't worry about repayment. I'll collect from Datou myself. I've already spoken to the accountants—every payday, they'll deduct a portion of Datou's salary, and you'll collect it directly."

"Is… is that allowed?" Lu's wife panicked. Though she was broad-shouldered and fierce, she'd never dealt with the yamen before—she naturally feared it.

"Don't worry, it's settled. The day after payday, bring your household card and collect the money directly."

"Thank you! Thank you!"