Chapter 303: The Real Power Player

Chen Guanlou didn't fully understand how chaotic the court had become due to the deposed crown prince; he only knew that the Imperial Prison had been unusually busy lately.

Even inside the Tianlaomiao, one could almost hear the screams from the neighboring cells—chilling to the bone.

Once, while on an outside errand, he encountered Yang Company Commander from the neighboring Imperial Prison, whose clothes were drenched in blood, completely unhidden, grinning at him with an open mouth. Chen Guanlou found the stench unbearable and wrinkled his nose; the man nearly flew into a rage, looking ready to devour him whole.

Chen Guanlou grinned back at him, thinking: too much blood had turned this man into a monster.

"Chen, don't think your family background lets you act arrogant. This city isn't ruled by your Chen family."

Chen Guanlou sneered. "All you know is torture to extract confessions, right? Covered in blood all day—who are you trying to scare?"

"Chen, you really aren't afraid of the Embroidered Uniform Guard!"

"You Embroidered Uniform Guard keep trespassing onto Hou Fu's territory—after all these years, have you uncovered anything? If you're so capable, get the Emperor to recall the Marquis, and then I'll admit you're truly impressive."

"You…" Yang Company Commander was genuinely stunned by Chen Guanlou's defiance—he showed no fear at all toward the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Was it just because of his surname? Did he truly believe the Guard had no power over the Chen family?

"You'd better never fall into our hands. When you do, I'll personally oversee your torture and show you every trick the Embroidered Uniform Guard has."

"Same to you!"

The two parted on bad terms.

How the minor clash began, how it ended—it was all a mess. They had long grown to dislike each other; it had become routine. But Chen Guanlou wasn't like other Tianlaomiao jailers who just put up with it. They weren't even in the same system—why should he give them any respect? If they truly had power, let them override the Ministry of Justice and take over Tianlaomiao—that would be real strength.

A mere Company Commander? Chen Guanlou didn't even consider him worth noticing.

Zhao Mingqiao, when he pushed hard, was truly formidable—he quickly received the release order from the Ministry of Justice.

Chen Guanlou stood before the cell door and congratulated him: "Congratulations. You're about to walk free."

The jailer opened the cell and motioned for him to leave.

Zhao Mingqiao rose, his posture upright. More than a year in prison hadn't drained his spirit—it had only hardened him, filling him with unyielding determination. Seeing him was to witness boundless strength, an indomitable will. Compared to him, the jailers looked like lazy, rotting corpses, their morale utterly deplorable.

Scholars were respected for a reason.

Jailers were despised for a reason.

"I even wanted to stay longer in the Tianlaomiao, to rest and sort out my muddled thoughts. But the outside world needs me more. Though I'm not fully prepared to leave, I will still firmly walk the path I must take."

Zhao Mingqiao looked like a warrior ready for sacrifice—his tone restrained, yet every inch of him radiated fervor.

Chen Guanlou grunted. "Take care of yourself. Don't die too soon!"

"Hahaha… I won't die easily." Zhao Mingqiao laughed loudly, his confidence infectious.

He stepped out of the cell, was led to a side room to clean himself, and changed into fresh clothes. Since he was leaving, he'd leave cleanly—no one would look down on him.

After tidying his appearance, he regained his dignified, handsome, youthful scholar's bearing. Aside from being slightly thinner, prison had left no indelible mark on him. He was, after all, a man of unwavering will—unshaken by his environment, steadfast in his beliefs and ideals.

He emerged from the side room, fresh and renewed, and came before Chen Guanlou, clapping him hard on the shoulder: "Thank you for looking out for me this past year."

"No problem!"

He suddenly lowered his voice: "If one day I die, please bury me."

Chen Guanlou frowned. "Don't talk nonsense. You won't die. Learn from your predecessor Yu Zhaoan—be smart, know when to yield. Only when you hold power can you realize your ambitions."

Zhao Mingqiao smiled. "I'm not like Yu Zhaoan. He wants power. I…"

He didn't finish, but Chen Guanlou understood his unspoken words.

He didn't press further, only promised: "If you die and your family isn't there, and I'm still alive, I'll bury you. I hope you live to be seventy or eighty—by then, the world might be different."

"How many years I live doesn't matter—as long as I don't waste them." Zhao Mingqiao smiled, fearless of death.

Chen Guanlou had a feeling: once this man stepped out, he'd stir up a storm. He was no man to stay within bounds. When rules held, he followed them better than anyone. When rules broke, he shattered them harder than anyone.

Such men were the most dangerous.

Lu Mingchuan's danger lay in his mastery of schemes and deceit, his skill at manipulating hearts with honeyed words—slow, meticulous work.

But Zhao Mingqiao's danger? He was a bomb ready to explode at any moment—no one knew when, or whose side he'd detonate on.

"I'll see you out."

"Good!"

They walked out of the Jia-cell block. It was a fine day—clear blue sky, April's sun warm but not scorching, perfectly comfortable.

Zhao Mingqiao greedily drank in the sunlight, head tilted up, eyes stinging but fixed on the sun.

After a moment, he lowered his gaze, turned back to Chen Guanlou, and said: "I'm off."

Chen Guanlou handed him a bundle. "Take care."

He lifted the bundle. "What's inside?"

"The money I lent you—and the IOU."

"I never signed an IOU."

"I signed it for you. You just need to acknowledge it."

"Hahaha, I'll pay you back. When I have the money." Zhao Mingqiao didn't argue, slung the bundle over his shoulder, and walked out of the Tianlaomiao. Inside the bundle, besides silver, was a small booklet. Its contents were shockingly heretical: What was feudalism? What were its limitations? The essence of a family-run state…

Chen Guanlou had carefully chosen to write the booklet. He believed Zhao Mingqiao's nature meant he wouldn't leak a word—perhaps he'd burn it after reading.

As he'd guessed, Zhao Mingqiao spent the entire night reading the booklet, thinking, taking notes. At dawn, he burned and buried everything.

His heart still surged—but his resolve remained unchanged.

As he stepped through the gate, he turned back to glance at the Tianlaomiao, offering a knowing smile. With firm strides, he headed toward the Imperial Palace—his battle began today, his first enemy: his former master, Lu Mingchuan.