Chapter 338: Why Is He So Arrogant?

Yu Zhaoan bade farewell to the Marquis of Pingjiang, offering modest flattery and promising that upon reaching the capital, he would remind the Ministry of Military Affairs to promptly replenish equipment and grain supplies.

The Marquis of Pingjiang was exceedingly courteous.

One managed civil affairs, the other military; the military commander had to beg the civil administrator for grain and supplies. Their relationship could hardly be called harmonious, yet it was far from outright hostility.

It was merely official business conducted officially.

All along, subordinates had handled negotiations; the two superiors had never met face to face.

Now that Yu Zhaoan had been promoted and was returning to the capital, the Marquis of Pingjiang temporarily set aside his grievances and offered a few words of congratulations and good wishes.

"What is your view of the current political situation in the court?"

"I simply sit and watch," the Marquis of Pingjiang said, unusually witty.

Yu Zhaoan blinked, then forced a awkward laugh. "Marquis, you're joking."

"I am not joking. I truly can only sit and watch." With that, he patted his crippled leg and gave a self-deprecating smile. "Lord Yu, you've had a similar experience—but your fortune was better; you found a skilled physician who healed your leg. I, however, was unlucky—I fell into the hands of a quack, and my once-perfect leg was ruined. I am a cripple. What do I know of court politics or the fate of the realm? Ask me, and I know nothing. Had it not been for the Emperor's orders, I would have gladly tossed aside this command to suppress rebels."

Yu Zhaoan did not believe a single word.

Power is a man's aphrodisiac; no man can defy this law. Perhaps one exception exists—that Chen boy in the Celestial Prison, a freak who'd rather be a jailer than rise in rank.

"Is lack of desire and ambition some kind of Chen family tradition?" Yu Zhaoan teased. "That Chen boy in the Celestial Prison—I greatly admire him. I've tried recruiting him several times; he always refuses. What a pity!"

The Marquis of Pingjiang's eyebrows lifted slightly. "You mean Chen Guanlou."

"Precisely that young Chen. Do you know him?"

"He is a Chen. Of course I know him. Our Chen family, for all else, has always upheld the tradition of being humble, obedient, and keeping to our place. That is the Chen family's way: never covet what does not belong to you, and you will live long."

The Marquis of Pingjiang shamelessly draped himself in false glory.

Yu Zhaoan bowed his head and smiled. "I understand. May the Marquis's every wish come true. I take my leave."

"My legs are unfit for walking—I cannot see you out myself. Someone, see Lord Yu out!"

The meeting ended in an atmosphere of harmony.

After seeing off Yu Zhaoan, the strategist stepped out from behind the screen and mused, "Lord Yu and the Marquis were trading veiled words—what does he want? Could he be trying to win over the Marquis? If so, why did he avoid contact before?"

The Marquis of Pingjiang lifted his teacup and sneered. "He wants to be a pure minister, yet he's not pure enough. Today's visit was merely a probe. I made it clear I have no interest in court affairs—he'll shift his target and try to recruit someone else."

"Are you truly not going to meddle in court politics? The court is in chaos right now—perfect for opportunists."

"Everyone thinks the old Emperor is foolish and easily fooled. But this is the most dangerous time. He holds grudges, has a narrow mind, and is wildly suspicious. He feared me so much he broke my leg himself. If I dare interfere in court affairs, do you think the Embroidered Uniform Guard isn't already sharpening their blades? He wants me dead but hesitates to act—do you think I'll give him the chance?"

The strategist's face turned solemn. "If you weren't an indispensable commander, the old Emperor would have moved against you already."

"Indeed," the Marquis of Pingjiang lowered his gaze, sneering. "Carry out the plan as arranged."

"Are you truly going to kill Prince Da Ming?"

"He's useless now! Send more men to get close to Guo Dachun. When necessary, open a breach and let Guo Dachun flee south to cause havoc."

"Yes!" The strategist bowed and departed.

The Marquis of Pingjiang's expression grew darker.

…

At Chen Guanlou's home, an unexpected guest arrived—one no one could have imagined.

Zhang Daohe, the rebel leader!

"How dare you appear in the capital!"

Chen Guanlou was secretly startled. In this age, are all cultists so brazenly fearless of death?

"Do you believe I can shout once and have the Embroidered Uniform Guard come to arrest you? Your fate will be death by a thousand cuts. You know full well—the Embroidered Uniform Guard hunts cultists most eagerly, and the old Emperor hates them most."

Zhang Daohe sat in Chen Guanlou's study, occupying the seat of honor, acting as if he were the master.

Chen Guanlou snorted, standing at the doorway, arms crossed, watching the man coldly.

Zhang Daohe chuckled softly. "I came to make a deal with Prison Warden Chen. You needn't be so wary. As for reporting me—you're a jailer; your duty is to guard prisoners, not to arrest them like a constable. Besides, the Celestial Prison and the Embroidered Uniform Guard next door aren't so close that they'd help each other rack up merit."

"You're a cultist, a fugitive. Because of you, I was punished. Don't you think I should report you?"

"That line might fool the uninformed, but not me. From what I know, the Celestial Prison bore all blame for the mass escape from the Imperial Prison. Your side lost nothing except me. How could you claim to have suffered?"

"You know a lot. Do you have an inside man in the Celestial Prison?"

"Hah! Prison Warden Chen, you're joking. If I had an inside man, why would I need outside help to escape? I could simply walk out on my own."

"Denial won't work. Your outside helpers found your cell precisely and got you out smoothly—do you think I'm three years old?"

Chen Guanlou's tone dripped with sarcasm.

Zhang Daohe bowed slightly. "Prison Warden Chen, your eyes are sharp. Yes, I do have an inside man in the Celestial Prison. Now, are you going to ask me who it is?"

"Will you tell me?"

"Of course not," Zhang Daohe said, as if it were obvious.

Chen Guanlou gave a cold laugh. "Then I won't ask."

"Then perhaps you should hear out my deal first. The price is negotiable."

"What kind of deal requires you to show up in person?" Chen Guanlou eyed him suspiciously. The man had come uninvited, sat in his study, and now, with the door blocked, remained utterly calm. What was his leverage?

Why is he so arrogant?

A fugitive on the most wanted list, a cultist, so brazen—no disguise, no concealment—coming straight to his home to make a deal.

Hmph…

These days, those bold enough to risk execution clearly think differently from normal people.

"A big deal! I heard you don't just trade antiques and calligraphy—you also help people get released from prison. Perfect. I need you to help me get someone out. Price is negotiable."

Zhang Daohe adopted the air of a wealthy patron.

Chen Guanlou looked at him with unmistakable disdain.