Chapter 4: Distinguish Life from Death

Early in the morning, Chen Guanlou reported for duty at Tianlaomiao.

After paying respects to the senior officers, he was assigned to Officer Xu.

“Officer Xu!” he bowed slightly, adopting the full posture of a junior subordinate.

“Call me Uncle Xu. I was like a brother to your father—you’ve finally grown up.” Xu Fugui slapped Chen Guanlou’s shoulder, radiating warmth.

Chen Guanlou’s face showed genuine surprise mixed with shyness; he boldly called out, “Uncle Xu.” Inside, he didn’t believe a single word of what Xu Fugui said.

He’d heard from his elder sister that when his father died, none of the mourners who came to the house included this Xu Fugui.

“Ah, I heard about your situation. When you wanted to take over your father’s post, I wanted to help—but I’m low-ranking and powerless. Your father’s position was already taken before I could act. I was willing but unable. Luckily, you found your own way in.”

“Thank you, Uncle Xu, for remembering me. Your kindness is etched in my heart. Right now, I’m short on cash. Once I get my salary, I’ll treat you to wine at Guanmei Pavilion.”

“No need for you to treat me—when the time comes, I’ll treat you.” Xu Fugui laughed heartily, sounding utterly carefree. After laughing, he asked, “Which senior officers did you meet? Did they say anything to you?”

“The officers said my father’s post is gone, and there’s no vacancy for a jailer. I’m to start as a jail guard.”

“That bunch… never mind. Jail guard it is. Nephew, don’t resent it. Don’t look down on jail guards—they have their perks. I’ll show you the ropes; you’ll see soon enough. Come, I’ll take you to collect your belt and uniform, then register your name at the kitchen…”

“I’ll follow your lead, Uncle Xu. I’ll work hard as a jail guard. Thank you for your care.”

“No need for thanks. Don’t be so formal from now on.”

Chen Guanlou smiled but said nothing. He’d take those words as empty noise—if he truly stopped being polite, he’d be the one to suffer.

Dressed in the dark red jail guard uniform, armed with the standard waist knife, belt tightened, collar straightened, hand resting on the hilt, Chen Guanlou took a deep breath. From now on, he was a civil servant with a steel rice bowl—proud and dignified.

“Hey, you look sharp in that uniform.”

Xu Fugui, seeing him dressed, called for him to follow.

“You’ll be assigned to the Bingzi cell block. The Bingzi block…”

One spoke, one listened. Chen Guanlou trailed closely behind Xu Fugui, passing corridors, moon gates, a gatehouse, then two more doors, until they finally entered the Bingzi cell block of Tianlaomiao.

Dark, murky, a stench of mildew mixed with something indescribable slammed into his nose. Chen Guanlou held his breath, taking several moments to adjust. He stepped forward, turned a corner, and ahead stretched a long, endless dim corridor, flanked on both sides by prison cells.

“You’ll work here from now on, patrolling. You’ll work with… Da Tou. Lu Da Tou, come here. This is the new recruit, Chen Guanlou. You’ll patrol together from now on. Chen, do your duty well—I’m counting on you.”

“I’ll do my duty well.”

“If you have any questions, ask Lu Da Tou.”

After settling Chen Guanlou, Xu Fugui left Tianlaomiao to go drink tea at the external office.

Lu Da Tou lived up to his name—his head was huge. Chen Guanlou suspected he had hydrocephalus. Shorter than Chen Guanlou by half a head, his body was thick and sturdy.

“That Chen…”

“My name is Chen Guanlou. Call me Xiao Chen, Brother Da Tou.”

“You’ll work under me from now on.”

“I’ll follow your lead, Brother Da Tou. Give me any orders you like.”

Lu Da Tou, pleased with his deference, said, “I’ll take you on your first patrol.”

The Bingzi cells held oceanic bandits and Jianghu scum. Chen Guanlou was thrilled—just as he was dozing off, a pillow was handed to him.

With curiosity in his heart, he followed Lu Da Tou, beginning the patrol at Bingzi Cell No. 1.

“The most important thing in patrol is checking the headcount. If the count’s wrong, all of us will be punished. This is critical—remember?”

Chen Guanlou nodded quickly. “I remember.”

“Second, watch for conspiracies or trouble. The inmates in Bingzi are restless. Watch for collusion between inside and outside. Don’t be careless. And always tell if someone’s alive or dead.”

“Brother Da Tou, how do you tell if someone’s alive or dead?” Chen Guanlou asked humbly.

Lu Da Tou glanced at him, pointing ahead to Cell No. 13. Only one prisoner was held there, his feet chained, his body sprawled motionless on the filthy floor, life or death unclear.

“Is he alive or dead?”

Chen Guanlou stepped forward to inspect closely. The prisoner lay still, not even breathing visibly—he couldn’t tell. But if the man were dead, Lu Da Tou wouldn’t be so calm.

Still, he said, “I can’t tell. Please teach me, Brother Da Tou.”

Lu Da Tou chuckled, then struck the cell bars with his baton. The dark corridor echoed loudly, almost deafening.

“Hey, wake up.”

The prisoner on the ground wriggled like a worm, then went still again.

Lu Da Tou grinned triumphantly. “See? That’s alive. Deaths are common in Tianlaomiao, but no one dies without notice. You must report when someone’s near death—understood?”

“Thank you for the lesson, Brother Da Tou. I understand.”

Chen Guanlou fully agreed: reporting a prisoner’s impending death was duty. Whether to save or treat him was up to the officers. When the man finally died, the prior report made it easy for everyone to cover their backs.

As they patrolled, the Bingzi block had over a hundred cells—nearly all were full. Damn, Tianlaomiao held so many oceanic bandits—how bad must local security be?

The last ten or so cells were empty. Chen Guanlou assumed they wouldn’t be checked, but Lu Da Tou led him deeper still, whispering, “The others don’t matter, but the very last cell—remember, inspect it daily. Never slack. If something goes wrong, we’re all done for.”

At the deepest part of the Bingzi block, it was pitch black—barely able to see one’s hand. The air was damp, the floor slick with moisture. In the gloom, Chen Guanlou heard a heavy, labored breathing—not human.

The deeper they went, the more it felt like a horror film—something monstrous lurked, ready to pounce and devour.

Chen Guanlou, unusually tense, followed Lu Da Tou. What kind of heinous criminal was locked away in this lightless depth?

There!

In a pile of straw, a middle-aged? elderly? man lay bound by iron chains around limbs and neck, his hair and beard tangled like straw. Faint light revealed the prisoner’s eyes shut, his face marked with tattoos obscured by beard. His head hung low, leaning against the wall. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths—this man, even imprisoned in Tianlaomiao’s depths, remained powerfully built.

“All right, let’s go.”

Lu Da Tou clearly feared the prisoner. After confirming he was unthreatening, he hurried Chen Guanlou away.