Chapter 348

Chen Guanlou frowned. "I don't believe it. He was too afraid of death to have the courage to poison himself. Check the source of the poison—there might be something there."

"If I remember correctly, Brother Chen, you're a jailer, tasked with guarding prisoners, not investigating or arresting them. Brother Chen, you've overstepped your bounds!" Zhao Mingqiao's tone was harsh, clearly annoyed by Chen Guanlou's meddling.

Chen Guanlou narrowed his eyes, studying the young man before him. He looked the same as in memory, but his expression and demeanor had changed. No longer the idealistic, passionate youth of old—he stood before him now as a calculating, seasoned official.

"It seems you know the inside story," Chen Guanlou cut straight to the point, avoiding any roundabout tactics.

Zhao Mingqiao avoided his gaze, looking up at the sky, and said softly, "Some things are unavoidable."

Chen Guanlou's mind raced with a wild, outrageous suspicion: "You… don't forget—he was your teacher. Heaven, Earth, Sovereign, Parent, Teacher—this will destroy you completely if it gets out."

Betraying one's teacher and forsaking one's roots ranks first in social ruin. Neither the bureaucracy nor the scholarly world would ever tolerate it. Once this leaked, Zhao Mingqiao would be ruined—no matter if he lived or died, he'd be erased from officialdom and letters forever, with no chance of redemption.

Some things can be thought of, even spoken of—but never done.

"Are you mad?"

"I don't understand what you mean, Brother Chen. What are you getting at?" Zhao Mingqiao refused to admit anything.

"You think you can play games with me," Chen Guanlou sneered. "Don't forget I'm the one who guards prisoners. What kind of criminals haven't I seen? What kind of schemes and minds haven't I encountered? You think you can fool me? You're still too green."

Zhao Mingqiao's face darkened, regretting his inexperience. He lowered his voice, angry: "Then what do you want me to say? I already told you—you shouldn't meddle."

"Relax. I won't meddle. I won't ask about your grudges with Lu Mingchuan. I'm only reminding you—don't forget your original heart."

With Chen Guanlou's assurance, Zhao Mingqiao visibly relaxed.

He spoke slowly, "The Embroidered Uniform Guard has been secretly investigating our teacher. Even if I did nothing, he would have ended up here anyway. I merely accelerated the process."

Hearing Zhao Mingqiao's confession outright—even though he'd suspected it—Chen Guanlou was stunned.

After a long moment, he regained his composure and said, "You've swung from one extreme to the other. Beware—you'll burn yourself alive."

Zhao Mingqiao gave a bitter laugh. "I've long prepared for ruin and death, unable to atone even with a thousand deaths."

"No, you haven't. I was just testing you. Didn't you see how panicked your expression and eyes were? Zhao Mingqiao, you're trying to walk a tightrope—you're still too young. You haven't mastered hiding your emotions. You're playing too recklessly. You'll bring fire upon yourself. Don't think your actions are hidden. I can see them. Others will see them too."

Chen Guanlou patted his shoulder and added, "Do as you think best."

With that, he turned and left.

He hadn't expected that the first major thing Zhao Mingqiao did after prison was to personally kill Lu Mingchuan. The man was still that extreme, passionate youth—but now, unlike before, when his extremism was only ideological and naive, his methods had turned extreme too.

With people like this, reasoning is useless. They're masters of self-PUA—skilled not only at brainwashing others, but at brainwashing themselves. Their conviction is unshakable; ten oxen couldn't pull them back. Even if they hit a dead-end wall, they won't turn around.

In this, they're no different from those cult bandits—both are stubborn, unkillable pests. The only difference: one stands in the light, the other in the dark, yet both do deeds too vile to be seen.

He bought a jug of wine, went home, poured himself a drink, let the night breeze blow, and pondered how the gap between people was greater than the gap between man and beast.

Just as he was enjoying his drink, someone knocked on the courtyard gate.

He assumed it was a neighbor and opened the gate without hesitation.

Outside wasn't a neighbor—it was Zhao Mingqiao, whom he'd seen earlier that day.

In just a few hours, he had visibly deteriorated.

Zhao Mingqiao stood at the gate, his face twisted with hesitation, then hardened into resolve. "The Ministry of Justice has closed the case. The Lu family has set up the funeral pavilion. Because of the heat, they'll only keep the body for three days."

"Come in," Chen Guanlou said calmly. He'd already come to terms with it: respect others' fates, let go of the urge to save them.

Zhao Mingqiao didn't need his help—he was more stubborn than anyone.

Still, it was surprising that he'd come so late.

Fortunately, the curfew had been lifted.

Otherwise, walking the streets at midnight and getting caught by the Embroidered Uniform Guard would've meant trouble.

Zhao Mingqiao had visited Chen's home before—in this very courtyard, they'd drunk and boasted together. Back then, time was simple, yet full of beauty.

The courtyard was the same. The people hadn't changed. But their hearts—everything was different now.

The bamboo chair still creaked. The table was still uneven, propped up by a broken tile to stop it from wobbling.

Seeing the wine on the table, he didn't hesitate—he picked up the jug and drank straight from it.

Chen Guanlou silently added another bowl and chopsticks, fetched another jug, poured him a cup, and asked, "Coming this late—aren't you tired?"

"Dealing with the Six Ministries isn't tiring."

"True enough. With your wit, tricking those Six Ministries fools is child's play. You're lucky this was a suicide case—they sent you amateurs, useless rejects. If they'd sent seasoned investigators, they'd have spotted the oddities right away. Someone suddenly kills himself? Hmph! Even with the Embroidered Uniform Guard secretly investigating, why rush so hard, so nervously? Don't you agree?"

Chen Guanlou teased.

Zhao Mingqiao narrowed his eyes at him. "Is it really that obvious?"

Chen Guanlou sneered. "I only dealt with Lu Mingchuan for a few days—I knew he was a man who clung to life. What would others think? Especially his colleagues, hometown friends? Lu Mingchuan was obsessed with official advancement, poised to make his big move, win the old emperor's favor—why kill himself now? The flaws are everywhere!"

"What if there was a compelling reason?" Zhao Mingqiao countered.

"What kind of reason?"

"For example—he was one of the masterminds behind the deposed crown prince's case."

Pfft!

Chen Guanlou spat out the wine in his mouth.

"You're serious?"

Zhao Mingqiao held his cup, calm and confident, utterly different from his earlier panic at Lu's house. Clearly, in these few hours, he'd replayed the entire affair, reviewed every detail, plugged every gap.

"What is real? What is false? In this court, public opinion shapes truth—if everyone says it's true, even falsehood becomes true. If everyone says it's false, even truth becomes false. Brother Chen, do you think I acted out of selfishness? No. From start to finish, I acted out of public duty. I've never changed."