Chapter 344: Even the Landlord Has No Extra Grain

Chen Guanlou was the richest among all the jail clerks, but he had no intention of becoming a target.

Master Fu was at best a half-baked scholar, always putting on the haughty air of a learned man, looking down on everyone in the Tianlao, yet coveting its income.

At first, he tried to get on good terms with Master Fu, giving him several favors and treating him to two lavish nights at Zui Xiang Lou.

But Master Fu turned out to be unscrupulous—not only unreliable in his duties, but also greedy for more. He set his sights on a courtesan at Zui Xiang Lou and wanted to buy her freedom and keep her as his concubine, demanding Chen Guanlou pay for it.

Chen Guanlou: …

The hell he was. Sometimes playing the generous benefactor didn't make him a sucker.

If Master Fu had taken the money and wisely advised Prison Warden Lei to curb his greed, ease off the KPI targets, and stop his reckless behavior, then paying to free a courtesan wouldn't have been out of the question.

But Master Fu's abilities clearly didn't match his ambitions.

He merely served as a scribe beside Prison Warden Lei, offering no real strategy. Even when he did offer advice, it was childish nonsense, useless compared to the hard-won experience Prison Warden Lei had gathered over years of grinding.

He flatly refused Master Fu's demand.

Master Fu held a grudge and sought to cause trouble.

Chen Guanlou secretly taught him a lesson, and only then did Master Fu tone down his arrogance. But toward other jail clerks, Master Fu remained unchanged.

Chen Guanlou watched coldly as Master Fu flaunted his false authority, saying nothing; every time Master Fu's gaze landed on him, it instantly flitted away, not daring to linger for even a moment.

Some clever men naturally sensed something was off.

Zhang the jail clerk of the Yi-character prison block quietly asked Chen Guanlou, "Did you get hold of his secret?"

Chen Guanlou raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I don't have that kind of power."

"Then why is he afraid of you?"

"Afraid of me? I didn't notice. Zhang, you must've misread it."

Seeing Chen Guanlou deny it, Zhang didn't press further, but he still bluffed, "Could you please tell Master Fu that the Yi-character prison block's income is limited—don't squeeze us too hard?"

"Why not invite him out for a night of revelry?" Chen Guanlou suggested with a grin.

Zhang shook his head. "I can't afford it. You might not know—Master Fu loves gambling and women. Once you're hooked on either, no amount of money fills the bottomless pit."

"Then there's only one solution left."

"What solution?" Zhang asked curiously.

Chen Guanlou whispered, "Get Prison Warden Lei to replace him."

Huh?

Solve the problem by removing the one who created it?

The idea lit up Zhang's eyes—he glanced between Master Fu, who was babbling wildly, and then lowered his head to think.

"This needs careful planning," he muttered.

Chen Guanlou understood with a smile and dropped the matter. Zhang controlled the Yi-character prison block, where the inmates were tied to powerful families in the capital—some even linked to the palace. Removing a private secretary and making him lose his job wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible either.

Days slipped by like water.

Zhang Wenfu finally adjusted to life in the Tianlao—he stopped screaming about the itching, but now suffered from stomach trouble, diarrhea every other day.

The jail guards despised him for his stench.

"These young masters are just too delicate."

Zhang Wenfu could only endure with tears in his eyes. He was the son of a Censor, raised in luxury—how had he ever endured such humiliation, such suffering? It was unbearable. Even he hated his own smell.

When would this ever end?

His good friend, Young Master Ye, had been eager to visit at first, swearing he'd work hard to get him released. But after a month, he vanished. Plastic friendship, no doubt.

At Zhang's home, Censor Zhang's days were hard. Recently, someone in court had impeached him—he was fully occupied defending himself and had no energy to care about Zhang Wenfu.

In no time, Zhang Wenfu went from a prisoner everyone cared about to one no one noticed. If his family hadn't paid the silver, his life would've been even harder.

Every time he saw Chen Guanlou, Zhang Wenfu wailed. He hadn't forgotten the Hou Fu had entrusted Chen Guanlou to look after him.

"Screaming won't help. I'm not a Ministry of Justice official—I can't help you."

"Jail Clerk Chen, Elder Chen…"

"Don't call me elder. You're my elder," Chen Guanlou sneered. "What do you actually want?"

Zhang Wenfu, the spoiled young master, burst into tears—snot and tears streaming. "Elder Chen, you're my real elder! I can't take it anymore—can't you make an exception, let me get some fresh air?"

"You want to go outside?"

"Yes yes yes, fresh air, just fresh air!"

Chen Guanlou chuckled coldly. "Fresh air costs extra. Even Gao Shiliu doesn't get special treatment—why should you? Is your family richer than the Gao family?"

"My family isn't as rich as the Gaos, but we're willing to spend. If my mother knew how much I've suffered here, she'd pay. Elder Chen, please help me—keep this up and I'll die."

Zhang Wenfu clutched his abdomen.

Trapped day after day in a windowless cell, his body and spirit both tortured. Other prisoner-officials, having endured worse, were far more resilient.

Zhang Wenfu wasn't.

He was just a spoiled young master, raised in luxury, never having known hardship.

Why didn't Gao Shiliu next door suffer?

Gao Shiliu had faced the world alone, traveled far and wide—he had far greater endurance.

Simply put, a person's mental state directly affected their physical condition—this was especially clear in the Tianlao.

Some lived. Some died. Some endured brutal torture and recovered fully months later, like cockroaches that wouldn't die—all shared one trait: a strong heart, firm belief, immense mental strength, immune to outside influence, unbroken by environment.

Yu Zhaoan was one. Zhao Mingqiao was one. Xie Changling was too.

Zhang Wenfu was a rookie beside them—a rookie who'd never been beaten by the world. His excessive anxiety and tension worsened his stomach illness.

Chen Guanlou thought for a moment. "I'll send someone to your home for money. If we get it, I'll arrange your outing."

"Thank you, Elder Chen! You're a good man!" Zhang Wenfu wept with gratitude—there were still good people in the world!

Chen Guanlou smiled. Clearly, the young master hadn't suffered enough yet.

The jailer sent to collect money from the Zhang household returned empty-handed.

Chen Guanlou was slightly surprised. "Can the Zhang family really be short on this much?"

"I don't know. When I went, Censor Zhang seemed to be quarreling with Lady Zhang—the servants were all tense. Later, I asked around—Lady Zhang has invested heavily in her family's business over the years. Word is, the money can't be recovered. Censor Zhang now needs cash, so he asked Lady Zhang for it, but she couldn't pay—they've been fighting ever since."

Tsk!

Even the landlord's house has no surplus grain.