Chapter 28: This Boy Is Not Worth Strategizing With

A massive black pot was placed atop the Crown Prince’s head, and he could only curse his terrible fate. His heart burned with even greater anger and hatred toward Jiang Tu, longing to eliminate him at once. He was also deeply dissatisfied with the old emperor.

He dared not speak it aloud, but that didn’t stop him from thinking: the old emperor had grown increasingly senile.

Is there ever a crown prince who has held the position for thirty years?

A sense of urgency surged within him—he desperately wanted to seize power. He longed to rush before the old emperor and declare loudly: “Your humble son is willing to shoulder the burden for Your Majesty; henceforth, you may rest assured in the Taiji Palace, refining elixirs and cultivating immortality. All matters of state, as crown prince, I shall not shirk—I shall handle them well with the assistance of the ministers, sparing Your Majesty not a single worry.”

Alas, he dared only think it.

Having vented his rage on the Crown Prince, the emperor still wasn’t satisfied—he summoned the court ministers before him and berated them for failing to share the sovereign’s burdens, pestering him daily with trivial, insignificant matters that disrupted his elixir-refining.

In front of all the ministers, he also scolded Jiang Tu, accusing him of betraying imperial grace. He immediately stripped Jiang Tu of his office and ordered him home to reflect on his sins.

The ministers saw this clearly: the emperor had raised his hand high but brought it down lightly—he was plainly continuing to protect Jiang Tu.

Being dismissed from office? What a joke.

Jiang Tu could be reinstated at any moment, even promoted a rank, if the old emperor merely uttered a word.

This round appeared to be a victory for the Hou Family, but they won only face. The true winner was still Jiang Tu.

Jiang Tu had the emperor’s favor—he could not be driven from court in the short term.

The most unfortunate was still the Crown Prince, who had been dragged into this affair over a single remark, suspected by the old emperor of harboring ill intent, and publicly cursed as an unworthy son. He had lost both dignity and substance, and was still confined to the Eastern Palace for reflection.

Yet Jiang Tu had now incurred the Crown Prince’s enmity.

The court ministers were delighted.

The only connection these affairs had to the Heavenly Prison was that on the very day Jiang Tu was dismissed, the estate guards of the Liu landowner were immediately released. The hired thugs of the fighting guild each received ten blows of the cane and a ten-tael fine, then were all thrown out of the prison.

As for the victim in this case—the man beaten to death—no one truly cared. He was merely a placeholder corpse, a tool. Who would care about a tool?

Xu Fugui sighed bitterly, complaining that Chen Guanlou had ruined his chance to make money.

Had he known Jiang Tu would lose this lawsuit, he never would have listened to Chen Guanlou—he should have just paid the bribe and made a fortune.

Chen Guanlou offered no defense, only asked: “Do you truly believe Jiang Tu lost?”

“He’s been dismissed—of course he lost. Who else could have won? Enough, enough. I know what you’re trying to say. I’m not blaming you, I’m just sorry about the silver. Anyone locked up must cough up silver—it’s the rule. Even the officials in the Jia-class cells aren’t exempt. I’ll treat this as a lesson learned. Go about your business.”

Chen Guanlou bowed in assent and departed decisively.

He could not sway Xu Fugui’s thinking—he could only say: this man is not worth strategizing with.

Lu Datou, knowing he’d been scolded, invited him for wine to comfort him: “Don’t take it to heart. In this case, no one got paid, and everyone wasted effort—everyone has grievances.”

Chen Guanlou muttered: “Jiang Tu has the emperor’s favor—he’ll be reinstated soon enough.”

“How can you tell? How are you so certain Jiang Tu still has the emperor’s trust? The emperor just dismissed him.”

“Dismissal is merely a temporary measure to silence public outcry. Jiang Tu has offended many people over the past few years—everyone resents him. He’s already drawn the wrath of the court. Precisely because he’s so hated, he’s become more trustworthy in the emperor’s eyes. A lone minister with no allies relies solely on the emperor’s favor.”

That sole reliance is his shield, the very reason the old emperor trusts him. To the emperor, Jiang Tu has no ties to any faction—he is loyal only to him. This “pure” loyalty surpasses that of all other ministers, civil and military.

“That’s just your side of the story—it’s not proof,” Lu Datou replied offhandedly.

Chen Guanlou didn’t argue, only smiled: “By year’s end, you’ll see. Then you’ll know whether I’m right.”

“If you’re right about this, I’ll buy you wine,” Lu Datou said readily, making a casual promise. A drink? For a jailer’s wages, it was nothing—even ten drinks wouldn’t be a problem.

As the two drank, Zhang Wantong entered the tavern with his disciples and apprentices.

Lu Datou immediately rose and slammed his fist on the table: “If Zhang Wantong gives you trouble, I’ll stand up for you—don’t be afraid.”

“Thank you, Big Head Brother. Headman Zhang is a reasonable man—he wouldn’t pick a fight with me without cause.”

“It’s not even dark yet—why are you talking nonsense?” Lu Datou looked baffled.

Zhang Wantong spotted Chen Guanlou and Lu Datou upon entering, snorted coldly, and turned to ascend the second floor. His disciples and apprentices followed suit, none daring to glance even once at Chen Guanlou.

This scene struck Lu Datou as clear contempt—Zhang Wantong looked down on them both.

He was furious: “That Zhang Wantong is growing more arrogant by the day. I’d like to see how long he can keep it up.”

“Big Head Brother, drink your wine.”

Lu Datou was still seething—he’d forgotten their earlier conversation, remembering only that Zhang Wantong had disrespected him, refused even a greeting. How insolent!

Chen Guanlou thought this was fine—each walked their own path, no interference, no conflict.

As for what had happened in the prison corridor that day, no one mentioned it. Everyone acted as if it never occurred.

After drinking with Lu Datou, Chen Guanlou went straight home.

The gatekeeper’s boy from Liu Guan’s household had been waiting a long time. He no longer showed his former coldness—he rushed forward warmly: “Little Chen, you’re finally back!”

“Have you been waiting long?”

“Only a little while.”

“What do you want?” Chen Guanlou stood at the gate, showing no intention of inviting him inside.

The gatekeeper’s boy pretended not to notice his attitude: “Oh, I got thirsty on the way—could you offer me a cup of tea, Little Chen?”

Chen Guanlou: …

You don’t hit someone who smiles at you.

Chen Guanlou reflected: one need not be so petty. No need to quarrel with a gatekeeper—it would make him seem narrow-minded.

He decisively opened the courtyard gate and invited the gatekeeper’s boy inside for tea. Besides, he himself needed tea to sober up.

This time, he finally learned the gatekeeper’s boy’s full name: Liu, originally an orphan with no proper name. After being taken in by Liu Guan, he took his surname and was named Xiao Chuan—Liu Xiao Chuan.

Chen Guanlou studied him closely and could still glimpse the shrewd, street-smart air about him. No wonder his skin was so thick.

“To be favored by Liu Guan, Brother Xiao Chuan must be exceptionally capable,” Chen Guanlou said casually.

Liu Xiao Chuan bowed in humble protest, saying only that he was lucky and had devoted himself utterly to Liu Guan for life, to repay his great kindness—indirectly confirming he was Liu Guan’s man, here today on his orders.

“What does Liu Guan wish of me?”