Chapter 287: This Matter Is Absurd

Dawn broke, but the capital lay as dead as a corpse, unwilling to stir for a long time.

Every household, big or small, shut their doors and windows. Everyone hid behind door cracks, watching for movement; the streets held not a single soul, not even a ghostly shadow.

Even the night-soil collectors had locked themselves indoors. As a result, certain unsanitary districts in the city reeked of human and animal excrement—a stench so potent that even the soldiers of the Divine Artifact Camp refused to step near.

The Tianlao's sanitation could still be maintained.

But in another ten or fifteen days, the Tianlao would sink into a cesspool.

Hundreds of people eating, drinking, defecating, and urinating—that number was too horrifying to contemplate. If the dung haulers skipped a single day's work, the Tianlao would soon be surrounded by a terrifying tide of feces.

Chen Guanlou couldn't bear the combined stench, so for the sake of his nose, he sealed his senses early and became a dull, numb man.

More soldiers flooded the streets; by their uniforms, they were Imperial Guards and Divine Might Camp troops. The Embroidered Uniform Guard also patrolled the streets, but not a single soldier from the Wu City Garrison or the City Defense Camp was to be seen.

A group of jailers hid in the watchtower, staring at the distance. None of them understood the situation outside—so many soldiers on the streets, yet not a single official appeared to take charge. Why were these soldiers allowed to run rampant?

Surely not all the officials were dead.

"Should we send someone out to find out what's going on?"

"Where to?"

"Over to the Embroidered Uniform Guard."

"Watch out—you'll be killed as a spy. Right now, the Embroidered Uniform Guard kills without regard to law; dead is dead, and no one cares."

"Send someone familiar. We can't keep waiting in this fog of ignorance. Even if there's a rebellion, we need to know who's behind it."

"Someone should go out and scout. After all, the Imperial Prison is right next door—they're well-informed."

But who should go?

Everyone exchanged glances.

They looked at each other, each clinging to life, none willing to step forward.

"I'll go."

After a long silence, Chen Guanlou stepped forward. He wanted a chance to breathe outside, to stop being kept in the dark. He wanted to visit his elder sister's home—he'd been worried about her. He wanted to return home, take a bath, and fetch a couple of changes of clothes. He even considered slipping into the palace for a quick peek, but feared being discovered by a Grand Master and dying without a grave.

"Little Chen, are you sure?" Xu Fugui was stunned. Someone who'd just been promoted should value his life most. He hadn't even enjoyed the benefits of his new rank—how could he risk himself? If he died out there, it'd be a waste.

In Xu Fugui's mind, any jailer would do—like Lu Datou. It had to be Lu Datou. If this troublemaker could be eliminated in the process, it would save them a lot of trouble.

Chen Guanlou affirmed: "No one is more suitable than me. At least I have some means of self-preservation. If trouble arises, my Chen family name might still grant me a sliver of chance. Others have no such protection."

Xu Fugui: …

He had no rebuttal.

In terms of family background, no one could match Chen Guanlou. He was a clan member of the Chen family of the capital, related to the Pingjiang Marquis. Given the Marquis's prestige in the military and the many generals who owed favors to the Hou Fu, Chen Guanlou need only reveal his identity—no one would dare trouble him.

"Little Chen, I entrust this to you. If it proves impossible, don't force it," Xu Fugui said, unusually sincere.

The other jailers offered words of encouragement and blessings.

Only Xiao Jin and a few others strongly opposed it.

They were Chen Guanlou's loyalists—his safety directly affected their own safety and futures. How could they let him risk himself?

"Boss, let me go—I'm lowly!" Liu She was the first to volunteer.

"Don't talk nonsense! I'm a Chen. Just my surname alone can protect my life. In all these years, no office has ever arrested and executed a Chen clan member—even in rebellion, whoever leads it must court the nobility."

Besides, my senior lord is currently commanding troops outside the capital and can recall them at any moment. So my head is firmly attached—no one can take it. Not even these soldiers. And I train daily—I still have some ability to defend myself. What do you have? Nothing but worthless lives. Die, and it's just a loss. Enough, enough—stop talking."

Chen Guanlou changed into plain clothes, strapped on his waist knife and identity token, and descended from the Tianlao in a basket.

Once the Tianlao's gates closed, they would not open again until peace returned. This had been the rule since the beginning. Thus, Chen Guanlou could only enter or exit via basket.

Stepping out of the basket and onto the ground, he felt, for the first time, a rare sense of solidity.

He'd never thought leaving work to go home was such a blessed thing—it was ordinary, daily, nothing special. But after being locked in the Tianlao for a day and night, he suddenly understood the true meaning of happiness: being able to leave work and return home normally.

Guarding hundreds of prisoners, though only a day and night had passed, was enough to torment the soul.

He glanced around, then hurried along the wall toward the adjacent Imperial Prison. He couldn't run too fast—he must not reveal his true strength. He wasn't wearing his armor now; he couldn't expose himself.

At the gate of the Imperial Prison, he pounded on the door ring.

"Hey, next door! It's me, Chen Guanlou—just promoted to jailer, good brother to Lu Datou. Open up, let me in!"

"Don't know you!" came an impatient roar from within. "Get lost!"

"I'm a Chen! The Chen of Pingjiang Marquis! The Chen Guanlou who went to school!" Chen Guanlou shouted, but kept his voice low.

Silence stretched.

Just as Chen Guanlou grew impatient and was about to knock again, a basket lowered from above.

Chen Guanlou: …

The Pingjiang Marquis's name still worked wonders. The gossip about a scholar becoming a jailer had spread far and wide—far more effective than his name.

They might not know Chen Guanlou, but everyone knew the Tianlao had a man who'd studied, a Hou Fu clansman who'd willingly sunk to the level of jailer. The story had circulated among all jailers—and even all offices in the capital.

Mention Chen Guanlou, and they'd stare blankly. But mention the scholar who became a jailer? Everyone knew it. A rare bit of gossip—remembered for ten or twenty years.

Chen Guanlou stepped into the basket, which rose slowly, finally carrying him into the Imperial Prison.

In the same-style watchtower, a group of Imperial Prison jailers and Embroidered Uniform Guard agents surrounded him, staring as if he were a curiosity.

"You're the Chen clan member?"

"Really studied?"

"You shame your ancestors—didn't the Hou Fu disown you?"

"You look like a pretty boy—why the hell did you become a jailer? Just find a rich widow and live in luxury for life!"

Chen Guanlou's lips twitched. "Gentlemen, I came to ask: what's happening outside? You're well-informed—I heard the Embroidered Uniform Guard is on the streets. Can you tell me anything?"

"What else? Rebellion."

"Who's rebelling?"

"Maybe the Crown Prince. Or someone else."

"Even the Embroidered Uniform Guard doesn't know? Isn't that absurd? Everyone's talking about rebellion, yet no one knows who's behind it—and the capital is already in chaos."