Chapter 382: No Luck, Only Strength

The next day was indeed a clear, sunny day. After waiting another day until the road was seven or eight parts dry, Chen Guanlou and his party set out again toward the capital.

After they left, the station master found several small-denomination silver notes on the counter, totaling a hundred taels. He was stunned at first, thinking a guest had dropped the money. Then he realized it was left by Prisoner Chen.

He rushed out after them, but the procession was already gone without a trace—there was no catching up.

The station master sighed, "Prisoner Chen has human warmth—he's far better than those officials."

He had no idea that Chen Guanlou bore some responsibility for the station's fire. Overcome with guilt, he left the silver to ease the station's actual hardship.

As they passed through checkpoints, Chen Guanlou was still pondering how to handle the tax clerks.

But the situation defied his expectations: someone had clearly arranged everything in advance. The tax clerks didn't inspect the goods, didn't collect any fees—they pretended not to see the dozen or so carts and their cargo.

As they passed, Chen Guanlou deliberately glanced at the clerks. They were unfamiliar—he'd never seen them before.

The Hou Fu really did their homework—even the lowest tax clerks were greased.

The escort company couldn't stop marveling. An elder said he'd been on escort runs for decades and had never passed a checkpoint so smoothly—without paying a single coin. In the past, just avoiding excessive taxes on the cargo was a blessing. Worst of all was when they demanded both taxes and bribes—and even then, if the bribe was too small, they still caused trouble.

Passing a checkpoint without paying a single coin—this experience was pure bliss.

Everyone came to thank Chen Guanlou, amazed that the Tianlao's reputation was so powerful.

Chen Guanlou looked up at the sky. It wasn't the Tianlao's reputation that worked—the local yamen didn't care a whit for Tianlao jailers. In truth, it was the Hou Fu's influence that had smoothed every checkpoint along the way. All he had to show was the Tianlao's official document, and they let them pass.

The tax clerks didn't need to worry about mistaking identities.

After all, across the entire empire, only this team carried Tianlao official documents—there was no chance of error.

The rest of the journey passed without incident—no drugged sleep at night, no bandits, no mountain robbers, no harassing tax clerks or clerks.

They arrived smoothly at the outskirts of the capital, just a few li from the city gate.

The Hou Fu had sent people to wait. They handed over the goods and prisoners, counted the numbers, then turned north—not entering the city, but continuing onward with the cargo and prisoners.

With the goods delivered, the escort company completed their task, collected their pay, and prepared to spend the night before returning to Suizhou the next day.

The escort men also finished their mission. This trip had been easy—eating and drinking at every station along the way. They collected their pay and immediately turned back to Suizhou, not even bothering to set foot in the capital.

The remaining jailers exchanged uneasy glances.

They'd been sent out to escort prisoners—and now the prisoners were gone.

So, had their mission been completed—or not?

"Boss, the prisoners are gone. How do we report this?"

"Of course we report back empty-handed."

Chen Guanlou wasn't the least worried. He led the jailers straight to the Tianlao, submitted the official documents, and reported his mission complete.

As expected, Prisoner Lei saw he hadn't brought back the prisoners and said not a word. Instead, he said: "This trip was hard work. You're granted three days' leave. Rest well, recover your strength, then return to duty."

They'd been away for nearly a month. When they left, it was still the heat of summer. Now they returned in autumn.

Autumn in the capital arrived noticeably earlier than in the south—the leaves were turning yellow. But the weather remained scorching; the autumn heat raged unchecked, making one wish to lie in water every day.

Upon his return, the other teams dispatched by the Hou Fu also began arriving safely one after another.

The unluckiest was Liu Guanshi—he led the front group and lost his life.

He returned once more to the Hou Fu, still within the domain of the First Branch.

The Chief Steward received him in the signing room. His face, for once, bore no trace of worry—he smiled warmly, like a god of wealth.

"Brother Lou, you handle affairs with such reliability. I never expected this mission to go so smoothly. You've done well."

Smooth? Pfft!

Had he not been strong enough, he'd already be dead at Niujiao Mountain Station. Most of the jailers with him would've died too.

Had he not used his silver tongue to fool that senior, the journey would've been anything but smooth—he'd have suffered terribly.

Had he not spent a thousand taels, this mission would've ended in utter chaos.

This journey had no luck—only strength.

He submitted his accounts to the Chief Steward, including the thousand taels—but didn't say where they'd been spent. The Chief Steward didn't ask. A mere thousand taels was too trivial to care about.

The Chief Steward asked him, "You've done great service. Name your reward—anything you want."

"Anything at all?" Chen Guanlou was curious. What kind of reward could the Hou Fu offer?

The Chief Steward nodded slowly. "Anything reasonable. Even if you want to become an official, the Hou Fu can arrange it. Want to join the Ministry of Justice? I'll get you a seventh-rank post. How about it? If you think the Ministry of Justice is too poor, try the Ministry of Revenue or the Ministry of Public Works—both are famously wealthy and lucrative. Or the Ministry of Personnel—everyone bribes them. I'll assign you the richest district as a chief clerk. How's that?"

This reward was undeniably generous—starting at seventh rank, equal to the status of a top imperial examination graduate.

"No thanks. I don't want to be an official."

"You don't want to be an official?" The Chief Steward was stunned. "What man in this world doesn't want to be an official?"

"Everyone has their own path. I just want to eat, sleep, and do nothing." Chen Guanlou made his stance clear—he had no ambition, no desire to shoulder responsibility, no wish to socialize or endure office politics, let alone factional struggles. He only wanted money, little work, and close to home.

Seventh rank was fine—but the thought of a dozen bosses above him made his head ache. He could handle it, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to play the court game—it drained his spirit and wasted his cultivation time.

The Chief Steward's lip twitched. He'd never met an Chen family member so devoid of ambition—both astonishing and infuriating.

"Brother Lou, this won't do! You're young—you should be striving! Why are you so lacking in ambition, content to just eat and sleep? You're a talent—you deserve to be used!"

"I'm not a talent. I'm just mediocre. Chief Steward, don't use me. Just give me some money and send me on my way."

The Chief Steward was furious, his beard bristling, eyes blazing. How outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!

As an Chen family member, how could he sink so low?

He must speak to the Elder Master.

He couldn't control Chen Guanlou—but the Clan Head surely could. If the Clan Head intervened, Chen Guanlou wouldn't dare disobey.

"You've made up your mind—you won't leave the Tianlao?"

Chen Guanlou nodded firmly. He refused to leave. The Tianlao was a treasure trove! Others hadn't noticed it—but now that he had, he'd never let go.

"How about I make you a jailer supervisor?"

"I won't be a jailer supervisor. The Tianlao is ironclad; jailer supervisors come and go. That position? No one holds it long. Doesn't fit my goal of eating and sleeping."

"Stop saying those words—'eating and sleeping.'" The Chief Steward was displeased. "As an Chen family member, you must uphold the family's dignity."