Chapter 396: Head Started to Hurt

The prisoner who needed mountain spring water to decoct his medicine was surnamed Tian, an official from the Ministry of Imperial Stables, and quite elderly—over sixty years old.

He had only recently been imprisoned in the Celestial Prison, accused of harboring grand ambitions and plotting treason.

This charge, if handled leniently, would keep him imprisoned for at least three to five years, possibly seven or eight; if handled severely, he'd be sent to the execution ground and get a taste of the severed-head set meal.

Master Tian was old and plagued with ailments; he insisted his medicine must be decocted with mountain spring water, claiming it was the advice of the Imperial Physicians. Ordinary water rendered the medicine useless. For this reason, the Tian family was willing to send someone daily to deliver mountain spring water to the Celestial Prison.

But…

Such a lucrative arrangement couldn't possibly be left to the Tian family to handle.

If the Tian family delivered the water, how would the Celestial Prison make money?

No way.

Whether food, drink, or a single pot of water, everything must pass through the hands of the Celestial Prison's jailers.

Pay up!

Pay, and we'll fulfill your daily requirement of mountain spring water for decocting medicine.

The Tian family knew the reputation of the Celestial Prison jailers—they understood this was extortion. But what could they do? They gritted their teeth and paid the silver, letting the Celestial Prison send someone daily to fetch a pot of mountain spring water outside the city for decocting medicine.

Using the Tian family's silver to help his own brothers—Chen Guanlou handled this task with practiced ease. The other inmates in the Jia-Character Cells had no complaints. They had far more profitable ventures; they weren't going to risk offending someone over five qian a day.

Besides, today Chen the Jail Clerk helped Lu Datou; tomorrow, when they themselves were in trouble, Chen the Jail Clerk would surely return the favor.

Right after this arrangement was made, for the first few days, Lu Datou was diligent—he'd leave the prison early each morning to fetch water and return it promptly.

After a few days, he grew lazy and began considering hiring someone else to fetch the water.

He discussed it with his wife, spending the entire night negotiating, his face marked with seven or eight red scratches, until they finally agreed on a price: twenty wen per day. Each morning, his wife would go outside the city to fetch the water, exchange cash for the pot, and then he'd carry it back to the Celestial Prison to submit it.

Perfect!

When Chen Guanlou heard about this, he shook his head and smiled—Lu Dasa now had an extra twenty wen a day, enough to cover her daily expenses, which could barely be called a win-win situation.

Xiao Jin and the others muttered among themselves, thinking Lu Datou was a worthless scoundrel who didn't deserve Chen the Jail Clerk's help—he should just stay rotten.

"Chen the Jail Clerk is loyal to his friends!"

"Loyalty doesn't mean helping scoundrels like Lu Datou. Last time we gambled together, he lost and still owes me three qian. I'm going to collect that debt now—come with me?"

"Of course! Get it while he's got cash—wait too long, and he'll gamble it all away."

"Do you want Chen the Jail Clerk to be loyal to friends, or utterly impartial?"

"Loyal to friends, of course. Lu Datou isn't that bad—just a scoundrel."

"The Celestial Prison is full of scoundrels."

"Scoundrels guarding scoundrels—perfect match! Hahaha…"

They laughed and joked, grumbled a bit, and let the matter drop.

Chen Guanlou gave a little attention to Master Tian's condition. The Tian family were wealthy landowners—no shortage of silver. Master Tian's son was a filial son, unwilling to see his father suffer in prison, and paid every fee the Celestial Prison demanded the moment it was presented. He was a premium client.

To premium clients, Chen Guanlou was always amiable, warm, and occasionally offered small gestures of care, letting the imprisoned officials feel the Celestial Prison's tradition of fairness and principle.

Next time they were locked up, they'd strive to return to the Celestial Prison and add another brick to its private coffers.

"Master Tian, are you comfortable here?"

"Ah, Chen the Jail Clerk! Today's steamed buns weren't as good as yesterday's—the dough didn't rise right."

"You're absolutely right. The cooks in the mess hall have been slack lately, half-hearted with their cooking. Shame—I only oversee the Jia-Character Cells; the mess hall isn't under my jurisdiction."

"Chen the Jail Clerk has it tough."

"We're all serving the court—it's hard for everyone."

Chen Guanlou chatted casually.

"The weather's been poor these past few days. When it clears up, I'll arrange for you to go outside for fresh air—interested?"

"Could you lower the price for that fresh air?" Master Tian was tempted. The Celestial Prison managed its inmates more humanely and considerately than the neighboring Imperial Prison.

Chen Guanlou's lip twitched—don't compare the crude Imperial Prison to the Celestial Prison.

Those people in the Imperial Prison only knew how to beat people for money—brutal, bloody methods, and once they got the cash, their reputation was ruined.

The Celestial Prison is better: various packages let imprisoned officials willingly dig into their own pockets, all while preserving a good reputation. The Imperial Prison should learn from us—learn how to extract money from officials efficiently and elegantly.

Those rough brutes in the Imperial Prison? Illiterate, probably never will learn.

"My dear Master Tian, the Celestial Prison is poor—we've hundreds, even thousands of mouths to feed. Even wealthy landlords have no surplus grain. I truly can't lower the price. But I can offer you a fine pot of tea and an extra snack."

Master Tian felt a pang of frustration.

Chen the Jail Clerk was black-hearted—utterly black.

Everyone says he's half a scholar. I wonder what he learned in school—did he only learn how to pick pockets? It's a disgrace to scholarship.

"I have several volumes of my scholarly notes—my personal reflections over the years. Even my students asked for them, and I refused. How about I give you one? In exchange, I'd like a few free passes."

Chen Guanlou: …

Did Master Tian's eyesight fail him? Which eye saw him as someone who wanted scholarly notes? And free passes? How audacious.

The scholar's delusional confidence—Chen Guanlou politely declined.

"Thank you for your generous offer, Master Tian. These scholarly notes are precious personal items—I couldn't possibly accept them. No, absolutely not. Silver is better—it's easier to account for to my superiors."

Chen Guanlou firmly rejected Master Tian's offer—only silver, no matter what. The scholarly notes? Let them gather dust.

Master Tian seemed deeply disappointed, sighing heavily. "Chen the Jail Clerk, do you know how sought-after my scholarly notes are among scholars?"

"I know. Precisely because I know, I can't accept them. Master, I have no intention of entering the literary examination business." He lowered his voice for the last sentence.

"I'm just a jailer—this kind of business isn't suitable for me. It'd invite fierce criticism. I'd end up losing both the money and my position."

Those young scholars? All of them are hotheads, trolls, fanatics. If they found out a jailer had touched the sacred notes of a revered scholar, they'd risk their lives to crush him underfoot and spit on him.

Chen Guanlou loved money—but he understood the principle of earning it properly.

Some money, he wouldn't take. He stuck to his own patch, earning only what he was meant to earn.

He refused to deal with those hotheads. Just thinking about it made his head start to ache.