Chapter 376: Everyone

At midnight, Liu Xiang finally breathed his last, dying with deep resentment.

The laborers immediately moved the body, cleaned the cell, and disinfected it to dispel ill omens.

Wu Bantou felt Liu Xiang must have died with immense grievance, fearing lingering malice, and decided to leave the cell empty for half a month to a month before assigning another official prisoner to it.

Chen Guanlou had no objection.

Throughout the entire process, Wu Bantou kept cursing the Six Ministries for being inhuman and excessively cruel.

Chen Guanlou rested in the official office, sleeping a full, deep sleep.

At dawn, he set out with a dozen jailers to conduct official business in Suizhou.

With the Hou Fu's backing, they rode horses or took boats the whole way, arriving in Suizhou in five or six days.

The jailers had never left Jingcheng before, never traveled so far, never spent public funds—each stared in wonder at everything they saw.

Chen Guanlou first went to the yamen to coordinate, then contacted the Hou Fu's steward stationed in Suizhou. The steward led him into a warehouse. "These are the goods to be escorted."

All the goods were neatly packed in wooden crates, covered with oilcloth.

Chen Guanlou asked the steward, "What's inside these crates?"

"I don't know," the steward replied bluntly—he truly didn't know.

"You never opened them?"

The steward looked startled by the question and whispered, "When working for the Hou Fu, the first lesson is to learn not to be curious. You're a Chen, you should understand better."

"I don't understand," Chen Guanlou grinned at the steward. "Can I open one and see what's inside?"

"No!" The steward grew agitated. "Chen Jailor, do your duty. Don't stir up trouble, alright?"

Chen Guanlou ran his hand over the crates and smiled. "Relax—I know the rules. Where's the person? Didn't you say someone else was to be sent to Jingcheng too?"

"What person?"

"You don't know?" Now it was Chen Guanlou's turn to be surprised—the man truly didn't know.

The steward said, "My orders were only to hand over the goods to you and ensure you could transport them out of the city safely. The person you mentioned—I have no idea."

Chen Guanlou: …

"Are there any other Hou Fu people still in Suizhou?"

"There were, but after several accidents, everyone was withdrawn."

"What accidents?"

"We were attacked, robbed, poisoned—various mishaps. The higher-ups feared for our safety and recalled everyone. Only I and a few guards remained."

"Do you know why?"

"At first I thought it was because someone wanted these goods. Later, I realized the cause wasn't the goods. I don't know the real reason." The steward's face was grim—he'd clearly been worn down, eating poorly, sleeping poorly, tense and anxious. He was middle-aged, yet his face was covered in acne, a clear sign.

Chen Guanlou grunted.

That night he stayed at the inn, arranged by the steward.

He expected trouble at midnight, but the night passed perfectly quiet.

The next day, he completed the handover procedures with the local yamen, went through all necessary formalities, and visited the prison to see the prisoner to be escorted.

The list given to him named mid-level officers from the Chu Prince's army. But when he descended into the prison with the list and saw the prisoners inside, he laughed.

He pointed at the few haggard, broken-down men. "You're telling me these are Chu Prince's officers? They're worse than street thugs—old, weak, sick, and crippled."

The local official secretly rolled his eyes. "We follow procedure strictly. These are the people sent from the front—we've made no errors. If you suspect they've been swapped, investigate the front yourself. Don't come to us. I heard you're a cousin of the deputy commander of the imperial army—ask him!"

So brazen.

Chen Guanlou snorted and shouted toward the prison gate, "Who's General Ningyu?"

An elderly man raised his hand. "I'm Ningyu."

"You're Ningyu? How old are you?"

"Thirty!"

You're thirty? I'm thirteen.

Fuck.

Before coming, Chen Guanlou knew this mission would be messy—but he never expected it to be this chaotic. The corruption started at the source. Even if they were faking Chu Prince's officers, they could've picked at least half-decent men. This slapdash, careless approach was blatant.

Was this the will of Hou Fu's heir, Chen Guanfu? Or the chief steward's? Or the master's?

He suppressed his irritation and told the official, "I'll come tomorrow to take the prisoner."

"Leaving tomorrow?" The official's face brightened. "Why not stay a few more days? There are some nice scenic spots outside Suizhou city—you could visit."

"No. My superiors are pressing me—I must hurry back to Jingcheng."

The official had only offered casually, with no real intention to keep him. Seeing Chen Guanlou was reasonable, he nodded. "Fine. I'll be here tomorrow morning. Once the paperwork's done, you can take him."

"Who among them is sick? I need to prepare in advance—don't want anyone dying on the road. If one dies, I'll be blamed."

"Don't worry. Though they look broken, they're all in good health. They'll reach Jingcheng in one piece."

"Then I'm reassured."

Chen Guanlou returned to the inn and ordered the owner to prepare a banquet. He invited the steward to drink with him. Tomorrow they'd part—drink, chat, build rapport.

This mission was deeply strange.

Everything felt shrouded in fog.

He suspected the chief steward had assigned him this task as a decoy to mislead enemies. But the decoy was poorly executed—the prisoners were so obviously fake, so obviously half-hearted, obvious to anyone with eyes.

Yet the steward knew nothing. The yamen officials followed procedure—also knew nothing.

The steward noticed his gloom and offered kindly, "Chen Jailor, don't overthink it. This mission shouldn't be hard. I've hired a well-known local gang, and with the Tianlao's authority, the journey should be safe."

Chen Guanlou smiled. "Were you safe before? Were those prisoners really sent from the front?"

"I truly don't know about the people—I only handle the goods. I work for a Hou Fu trading house. The head merchant told me to oversee this shipment, so I came. Everything else—I don't know."

"I believe you."

"Thank you, Chen Jailor. You're leaving tomorrow—I'll drink to you first."

Chen Guanlou drank and asked, "After this assignment, will you return to Jingcheng or to the trading house?"

"Back to the trading house. We're short-staffed—I've been away too long. After this, I may even be sent to the front to deliver goods to the heir."

"What does the heir need? Why not use the yamen or the Ministry of War? This is the Song family's empire—why should the heir use Hou Fu's wealth to fight the Song's battles?"

"The heir has private needs—he can't use official channels."

Chen Guanfu was the Hou Fu heir—Chen Guanlou had never met him. The last time he'd seen him was over a decade ago, in the clan's private school—he'd only glanced once. He no longer remembered what the man looked like, only a vague impression.