Chapter 390

Lei Yucheng's thought was that if the inside was lost, he must at all costs patch up the face.

As long as Chen Guanlou would give him some face—even fake face—allowing him to maintain dignity before the other jailers, he would let this matter drop and pretend he had never come to the Tianlao.

"My lord, you're joking. You're the official, I'm the clerk—you certainly have authority over me. The Tianlao cannot do without you!"

Chen Guanlou could act too, though his acting couldn't match that of those veteran performers.

Face, he had already said, is something you give each other.

He saw clearly Lei Yucheng's weakness, his vanity, his desperate last struggles.

He couldn't kill the man—what else could he do but keep pretending? Maintain the status quo until Lei Yucheng was transferred out of the Tianlao—that was the optimal solution.

So he played along, giving Lei Yucheng all the face he wanted.

Lei Yucheng's expression softened slightly, his mood eased a little.

He glanced at the man twice—ah, scholars had their merits; they didn't cling stubbornly like those crude jailers, they understood flexibility, knew the value of mutual accommodation.

"As long as you recognize me as your superior, you run the Jia-sized cells—I won't interfere. Remember: no deaths."

"Your lordship's teachings are etched in my heart—I guarantee no deaths."

Look how good this is: superior and subordinate each fulfilling their roles, living in harmony—why stir up quarrels and become a laughingstock?

As for whether he harbored resentment? Did it matter? Not at all. It didn't hinder their mutual performance, even without an audience.

Atmosphere, face—they were all for each other's eyes, and for their own.

Adults must know how to choose and let go.

Lei Yucheng despised everything about the Tianlao, despised the man before him, and didn't want to keep performing—he made an excuse and hurried away. From now on, whenever there was trouble, he'd let the private secretary handle it; he'd stay behind, collecting money. Easy, no responsibility. Even if blame fell, it wouldn't land on him primarily.

Lei Yucheng's departure meant Chen Guanlou had won this conflict.

The jailers read the signs well; though they said nothing aloud, they all knew the Tianlao had changed hands. From now on, Chen Guanlou called the shots. The first public appearance of Chen Guanlou's interest group had been executed brilliantly.

Zhang Yuli, in charge of the Yi-sized cells, and Xu Fugui, in charge of the Bing-sized cells, both offered their sincerity.

The logistics faction watched coldly; as long as Chen Guanlou didn't touch their interests, they acted as if nothing had happened. Yet Chen Guanlou's meals, even though he paid nothing, had clearly improved—obviously from a small pot, not the communal pot.

Chen Guanlou silently accepted the logistics faction's gesture of mutual alliance, accepted their goodwill.

Was Xu Fugui content?

Of course not.

But he had no choice—he hadn't been lucky enough to be born into Chen Guanlou's position, had no powerful family as backing, yet refused to accept his fate.

He couldn't bear to be idle, so he chatted with Zhang Yuli: "Will future Tianlao wardens all be puppets?"

"Do you care?" Zhang Yuli snapped back.

"Don't you care? Are you willing to take orders from a jailer instead of a warden? Are you that low?"

"Xu Yuli, watch your tongue—who's low?" Zhang Yuli sipped water. "Who knows what the future holds? The Tianlao warden's position is a coveted one—maybe Chen Yuli will someday kick against something he can't break and bow out."

"He'll bow out?" Xu Fugui scoffed. "He climbed up step by step from under my hand—I've never seen him bow. Who else but him bears the Chen surname? That's the Chen of Pingjiang Marquis's household. Everyone says the current Pingjiang Marquis household leads the noble clans—everyone gives them face. And that's even though the Marquis himself isn't in the capital. If he were here, one call and every noble clan would obey. When the nobles unite, even the Emperor hesitates—those mad dog officials can't stand against them."

"You know quite a bit."

"Not that much." Xu Fugui gnawed on his toothpick. "Don't you have any thoughts?"

Zhang Yuli lowered his gaze, hiding his emotions. "I just manage my own patch of land. Nothing else concerns me."

"You're surprisingly easygoing. But Chen Guanlou seems to have no grand ambitions—he only wants the Jia-sized cells. That's fine. I'm afraid he'll become warden and clean us out."

"He won't become warden."

"How do you know?"

"If he wanted promotion, he'd have left the Tianlao eight hundred years ago. With his talent, wherever he went, he'd never be buried. I know several disgraced officials tried recruiting him—but he refused."

"Why? These days, who doesn't want promotion? What's so great about the Tianlao? It's filthy and stinks."

"Maybe it's the money," Zhang Yuli said calmly, lifting his teacup.

Xu Fugui: …

Hmm, that actually makes sense.

The Jia-sized cells were universally recognized as the richest—money flowed through them like water, gushing loudly.

"But officials can embezzle too!"

"Officials embezzle, they'll eventually be caught and thrown into prison. In the Tianlao, embezzlement is natural—no one investigates. Even if accounts reach the Emperor's desk, they won't look into Tianlao jailers' embezzlement." Zhang Yuli chuckled. "Come to think of it, the Tianlao really is a treasure."

"An official's position is noble and dignified."

"Do you think Chen Yuli isn't dignified? He's the most dignified person in the Tianlao." Zhang Yuli smiled. "No jailer changes clothes daily—but Chen Yuli does. No jailer reads books—but Chen Yuli does, and no one thinks he's pretending. Tell me—is he dignified?"

Xu Fugui was speechless, his face dark with shame.

Dignified?

He had to admit: Chen Guanlou had achieved solitary dignity amid filth.

"As for nobility—he bears the Chen surname, comes and goes freely at the Marquis's household—isn't that enough?"

"Enough, enough," Xu Fugui muttered irritably, once again cursing his bad luck in rebirth, his failure to be born into a good family.

Zhang Yuli added: "You should be grateful Chen Yuli has a broad mind, a grand vision—he doesn't hold grudges against the likes of us."

Xu Fugui rolled his eyes. "When I was his superior, I never made things hard for him—I helped him at every turn. I have no guilt."

"Good that you have no guilt," Zhang Yuli smiled, then fell silent.

Xu Fugui had sought an ally, but ended up lectured instead—his mood was predictably foul.

Seeing Lu Datou, he instinctively wanted to sneer and scold him—but paused, snapped back to reality, turned his face cold, said nothing, and walked away.

He thought to himself: For Chen Guanlou's sake, he wouldn't stoop to argue with Lu Datou, that shit-stirrer.

Lu Datou watched Xu Fugui's back, muttered, "Weirdo!" then continued excitedly boasting to the other jailers: "My brother Chen is the real deal…"