Chapter 340: The Ninth-Rank Master Who Turned Rebel

Chen Guanlou pressed for the truth.

He interrogated Zhang Daohe like a household census officer.

It fit his jailer's persona.

Since they came to him for a favor, he had to dig up every detail. He pretended ignorance of Wang Qiren and Princess Luoyang, hoping to pry out more secrets from Zhang Daohe's mouth.

Zhang Daohe clenched his lips, as if unwilling to speak.

Chen Guanlou made his stance clear: if you won't talk, get out.

Zhang Daohe glanced outside at the night sky. "Will you be on duty tonight, Officer Chen?"

"It doesn't matter if you come later. First, explain your business."

Zhang Daohe cleared his throat. "Could you please fetch me a cup of tea? I've been here a long time, talked so much—I'm parched!"

Still asking for water? What demands.

He handed the man a cup of plain boiled water.

"Your birth mother was a cultist?"

"Officer Chen, do you always speak so harshly? My mother had her own beliefs; she never committed a single evil act in her life. Why call her a cultist?"

Chen Guanlou snapped, "You brainwash peasants and fools, make them hand over their property, turn them into unpaid laborers and cannon fodder, then watch them get slaughtered by the court—dying without burial, dragging their families down with them. That's true evil!"

Zhang Daohe roared, "Even without us, the officials would still exploit them. Do you think peasants would keep their property or escape being cannon fodder without us? Has any imperial campaign ever gone without conscripting labor? Nine out of ten conscripts never return—they die out there. Are they not cannon fodder?"

"The court builds canals and city walls—each time conscripting local laborers who must bring their own food. How many survive? They die from exhaustion, starvation, or beatings. At least with us, the peasants get a meal."

"Don't pretend to be noble! Don't force me to call the Embroidered Uniform Guard. First, tell me about your grandfather, Wang Qiren."

"He… he was the Imperial Son-in-Law of Princess Luoyang."

Chen Guanlou raised an eyebrow, then burst out laughing. "He was the Imperial Son-in-Law? Then what am I? Can't you even fabricate a believable lie?"

"He truly was Princess Luoyang's Imperial Son-in-Law. You may never have heard of her—her entire life was erased from records, neither in unofficial histories nor official texts. As for my grandfather, he was implicated in a rebellion case. The Wang family was exterminated down to the third degree—no one survived! I escaped only thanks to my mother and uncle."

"Wait. I'll pretend to believe you. If your grandfather was the Imperial Son-in-Law, how did your father end up with cultists? Are the entire Wangs cultists?"

"Bullshit!" Zhang Daohe exploded. "Officer Chen, show some respect! The Wang family was once one of Beijing's foremost aristocratic houses. How could we be equated with cultists? My father and mother's meeting was pure accident."

Chen Guanlou observed silently—Zhang Daohe truly was a Wang. Otherwise, he wouldn't be so fiercely defensive of the family's honor.

"Since you've shown sincerity, I'll tell you plainly: you can't get him out. Not even the Minister of Justice could free him today. He has no official file, but everyone in Tianlaomiao knows—he can't be moved. He must stay locked up until he dies. You've wasted your trip. Go home."

Chen Guanlou stepped aside, gesturing for him to leave.

"I will get him out."

"You've never even met him. He doesn't know you exist. Why bother now? Decades have passed—don't tell me you've suddenly developed filial piety," Chen Guanlou sneered.

"Please help me. Even if you won't free him, can you at least let me see him?"

"Zhang Daohe, you've forgotten your status—you're a fugitive from Tianlaomiao." Chen Guanlou laughed bitterly. This man was audacious. A fugitive dared ask him to sneak him into Tianlaomiao to visit a prisoner? Did he think the prison was his own backyard?

"With your abilities, sneaking me in and out of Tianlaomiao should be easy," Zhang Daohe smirked. "I won't let you do it for free. Five thousand taels."

Chen Guanlou scoffed. "I'm greedy for money, but not for every kind. Your money's hot—I won't touch it. Are you leaving, or do I call the Embroidered Uniform Guard?"

Zhang Daohe sat motionless. "Officer Chen, why shut me out? I only want to speak with my grandfather."

Talk nonsense!

"You two have nothing to say."

"What are you afraid of? With your skills, slipping someone into Tianlaomiao is like reaching into a pocket. Why not take the money? I'm not breaking him out—what's your worry?"

"What do you mean?" Chen Guanlou narrowed his eyes.

Zhang Daohe chuckled, slowly rising. "Must I spell it out? Others can't see it, but I know you're no ordinary man—you possess top-tier cultivation, yet you waste it as a jailer…"

Before he finished, Chen Guanlou moved. One hand shot out, gripping Zhang Daohe's throat. "I didn't want to harm you. But you've talked too much. Tonight is your last."

Before he could squeeze, a violent shock jolted his palm—numbing it instantly.

He leapt back, staring in disbelief at Zhang Daohe.

No longer an ordinary cultist—this man was a Ninth Rank master.

"You…"

Too many shocks tonight. One more wouldn't surprise him.

But Zhang Daohe was a Ninth Rank martial cultivator? Then how was he captured so easily by the Six Ministries? Why did he need help to escape?

And what cultivation art allowed him to conceal his true level?

Zhang Daohe shifted his shoulders, his Ninth Rank aura radiating nine meters and eight feet. "Didn't expect the lowly jailer to advance so swiftly in just over a year. You actually blocked my strike. Officer Chen, you've truly impressed me."

Chen Guanlou stood outside the door. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Zhang Daohe—the cultist you know."

Chen Guanlou shook his head, unconvinced.

"Hahahaha… You may call me Elder Zhang!"

"You're a White Lotus Elder?"

"Indeed, old man!" Zhang Daohe advanced step by step—slow, yet crushing in pressure.

Chen Guanlou didn't bluff—he retreated, yielding ground.

"What do you want, Elder Zhang?"

"Everything I said was true. I came to free him. Wang Qiren truly is my grandfather. Why won't you help me?"

Chen Guanlou sneered. "You're a Ninth Rank master—you need my help? Are you joking? If you're angry at me and want to frame me, you don't need to go through all this."

"Fair point. I'd hoped to handle this quietly. But now, some commotion seems unavoidable. If this causes you trouble, I apologize."

So polite.

"What do you intend?"

"Exactly what you think. Goodbye, Officer Chen."

Before the words faded, he vanished into the night.

Chen Guanlou shouted, "Damn it!"