Chapter 351

Chen Guanlou's money didn't fall from the sky—it was squeezed out of corrupt officials.

"Unfair! I'm innocent!"

Just after entering the Heavenly Prison, he heard cries of injustice from within the cells.

Chen Guanlou scratched his ear—he hadn't heard such cries in a long time. Most officials who landed in the Heavenly Prison were seasoned veterans of the bureaucracy, psychologically hardened to their fate, fully aware that screaming innocence was useless. They knew better than anyone whether they were truly guilty.

Only newcomers like Zhang Wenfu would shriek like this day and night.

"I've only served as an attendant to the Crown Prince for three months—why arrest me? I'm innocent; this has nothing to do with Prince Zhong."

The official crying out was truly innocent—he'd spent his career in a powerless, clean post with no chance for embezzlement. Luckily, his family had modest wealth, allowing him to focus on scholarship without worry.

The Crown Prince's young sons had grown older and needed more tutors. Because of his outstanding scholarship, he was selected as a companion-learner to the Crown Prince.

Just three months passed before a military coup deposed the Crown Prince.

Afterwards, he returned to his former powerless post and resumed his scholarship. He thought life would return to normal—but after only a few peaceful days, he was summoned to the Six Gates for tea, then thrown into the Heavenly Prison on charges of disrespect.

Damn it, "disrespect" had become a catch-all charge. Whenever they wanted to arrest someone but lacked solid evidence, they just slapped on "disrespect."

"I'm truly innocent! I never disrespected anyone!"

He was a coward who couldn't even embezzle—how could he possibly dare to disrespect his superiors? Absurd!

This world is absurd.

Chen Guanlou skimmed the dossier, then walked to the cell door. "Official Mei, stop shouting. Even if you scream yourself hoarse, it won't help. Blame your bad luck—you got caught in this wave. As for your case… you'd better prepare to spend three to five years here. Does that make you feel a little better?"

He understood how to break a man's spirit.

Official Mei's heart sank. "I'm truly innocent! I did nothing! I only taught for a few days—why arrest me?"

"Because you were an attendant to the Crown Prince," Chen Guanlou said coldly. "You should be grateful you're in the Heavenly Prison, not the neighboring Imperial Prison."

"The Emperor said he wouldn't pursue this—why is he now arresting every single Crown Prince attendant? How can the Emperor break his word?"

"The Emperor hasn't kept his word for the first time," Chen Guanlou sneered. "Breaking promises is normal. Keeping them is rare. Official Mei, you've been an official for decades—can't you see such a simple truth?"

Official Mei looked stunned—he hadn't expected such a piercing, brutal truth to come from a jailer's mouth.

Seeing the man's foolish expression, Chen Guanlou understood. "No wonder you spent your whole life on the cold bench, and now you're in the Heavenly Prison. Official Mei, how have you even survived this long? A naive fool like you should've died in the first two seasons of court politics."

Official Mei didn't understand the words, but he knew they were insults.

"I—I—I am innocent!"

"Whether you're innocent doesn't matter. What matters is you were an attendant to the Crown Prince." Chen Guanlou emphasized "Crown Prince." "Remember that, Official Mei. Stop shouting—it's immoral to disturb others' rest. It'll stir public outrage. Got it?"

Official Mei wanted to cry. He'd spent his life in scholarship—he truly didn't understand scheming, or why he'd been caught in this. "Is there really no way out?"

Seeing the man was genuinely naive—not pretending—having spent too many years in his clean post, far from court intrigues, a pure, untainted official who'd never been beaten or corrupted—Chen Guanlou sighed inwardly. Poor man.

His tone softened slightly; no more sarcasm. "Accept your fate. Keeping your life is already luck. Don't ask for more—fate will punish you."

"But…"

"No buts. Since you paid your bribe quickly, I'll give you one piece of advice: focus on your scholarship. Don't think about other things. Don't cry injustice. Sit quietly in prison, cultivate your Dao. When you get out someday, maybe you'll ascend directly—like opening a gate, stepping into a new realm."

Official Mei widened his innocent eyes. He understood "scholarship," but "ascend," "realm"? He didn't get it. Had the Heavenly Prison started speaking like this? Had his scholarly isolation made him outdated?

Chen Guanlou cleared his throat. "If you don't understand, forget it. Just do your scholarship. Obey, and no one will trouble you. Got it?"

Official Mei nodded. He understood.

Chen Guanlou grunted. Good—he understood.

The old Emperor's antics made everyone sick.

On one hand, he suddenly felt conscience-stricken, loudly compensating Prince Zhong and ruthlessly punishing officials who had once slandered him. On the other, he sharpened his knives, relentlessly crushing and dismantling the former Crown Prince's faction—better to arrest the innocent than let one guilty man slip away.

This so-called conscience, this so-called guilt—it was all a performance. The old Emperor himself was still lost in it, feeling proud of his own cleverness.

Truly split-minded.

Never seen an Emperor so obsessed with acting—no shame left, purely for deception.

The common folk might be fooled, but court ministers and imperial clan members wouldn't be.

Princes from all regions submitted memorials—some subtle, some veiled, some blunt—urging the old Emperor: Wake up! The sky of Great Qian has been pierced! Can you stop this madness? Are you worthy of your ancestors?

Among them, Prince Chu's words were the sharpest and most direct—he openly cursed the old Emperor in his memorial: foolish, hypocritical. Having ruled fifty years, his methods remained vile and dark, lacking even a shred of imperial dignity—he was nothing but a schemer, reeking like a rat in a sewer. He dared to frame the innocent, manipulate public opinion, and shift blame for the deposed Crown Prince onto blameless officials. Utterly shameless!

For the Song family to have such a creature is a disgrace—the heavens themselves intend to destroy the Great Qian Dynasty!

This wasn't a memorial—it was a proclamation, a denunciation of the old Emperor. Brutal, unrelenting.

The moment the memorial reached the capital, its contents spread instantly through the court. With deliberate manipulation, it raced from court to the streets.

Soon, even commoners in the capital knew of Prince Chu—who had publicly cursed the old Emperor as an old fool, incompetent, lacking all imperial responsibility.

Such a man should abdicate at once.

Even a three-year-old on the throne would do better than this old fool.

Hmm!

Well said!

You hit the nail on the head.

If you can curse, curse more. Don't hold back your pen—dare to curse boldly.

"Aaaahhh…"

A dragon's roar erupted from the Taiji Palace.

Crash! Crash! Crash!

Desks, chairs, ornaments, decorations—all shattered into pieces.

The old Emperor drew a sword from the wall and swung wildly. Whoever got unlucky and died? Blame your bad fate!