Chapter 403: What a Arrogant Scholar

The old emperor wanted to control the Hou Fu, and Chen Guanlou knew it full well.

Therefore, when he was notified to enter the grand hall for an audience with the emperor, he appeared extremely humble and excited. A government official long stationed far from the capital, suddenly facing the Son of Heaven, could not hide his agitation—his voice trembled as he spoke. This was the greatest reverence and submission to imperial authority.

Clearly, the old emperor was pleased with Chen Guanlou's conduct; he even smiled rare smiles, offered a few words of encouragement, and told him to rest well, as an official post would be assigned to him in due time.

Chen Guanlou kowtowed, thanking the emperor's grace, then bowed deeply and withdrew.

The old emperor, in good spirits, said to his attendant Qiu Defu: "Chen Guanlou is different from his father. After all, he is young, his blood still warm, still loyal to the court, still devoted to me."

"The Chen family has long enjoyed imperial favor. If they do not show gratitude, they are worse than pigs and dogs."

"The Marquis of Pingjiang's mistake was being too clever. I do not need clever men—I need loyal ones. Chen Guanlou is good; he understands loyalty better than his father."

"Will His Majesty promote Chen Guanlou?"

"Not yet! Let's wait and see."

The old emperor still feared the Hou Fu; he could never promote both father and son at once. He could first assign Chen Guanlou a minor post with little real power, pin him in place, restrain and mold him until he became the man the emperor envisioned.

The old emperor was skilled at molding men—he moved with calm confidence. A mature plan formed quickly in his mind: how far to promote, how often to suppress. In short, offer a sweet date, then strike with a stick. After a few rounds, he could shape a man into exactly what he wanted.

…

Chen Guanlou received an invitation from the Hou Fu, and was slightly surprised.

The heir of the Hou Fu had returned home, and the family was hosting a grand banquet for relatives and friends. Nearly every major noble house and aristocratic clan in the capital had received an invitation.

This banquet signaled the heir's reentry into the capital's elite circle—henceforth, the Hou Fu's representative in social circles would no longer be the second branch, but the heir himself.

One could not attend a banquet empty-handed; one must bring a gift.

Chen Guanlou once again faced the torment of choosing a gift.

For ordinary families or elder kin, gifts were simple: wine, meat, cakes, cloth, or perhaps a few suitable medicinal herbs, plus a pouch of silver. The gift would be generous and dignified.

But these common gifts were utterly unsuitable for the Hou Fu.

Even if he offered medicinal herbs, he'd have to steal the finest ones from the Hou Fu himself—where would he get suitable herbs to give them? Ordinary herbs were beneath contempt; cloth was inappropriate.

Only antiques and calligraphy-paintings remained—and they had to be rare treasures, yet not excessively valuable. Too valuable, and it wasn't a gift—it was bribery, scheming for favor.

This truly drove him mad.

This time, his elder sister Chen Xiaolan could not help him—he had to find a solution himself.

The gift budget must stay under five hundred taels; exceeding it would be inappropriate and inconsistent with his status. Within five hundred taels, the antique or painting had to be a rare treasure—only the hidden treasures among the imprisoned officials in the Jia-class prison could solve this problem.

He thought: the gift must not be vulgar—gold, silver, jewels were too common. The Hou Fu had been wealthy for generations, an aristocratic lineage of unmatched nobility. They cared nothing for such trinkets; they had seen too much.

The most suitable gifts were rare calligraphy scrolls or unique paintings.

The heir, Chen Guanlou, was also a scholar, said to have read extensively. But due to his status, he had never taken the imperial examinations; instead, he had early entered the military for training.

Given his scholarly lineage, he likely would not reject gifts of rare calligraphy or paintings. His father, the eldest lord, especially loved collecting such items. Father and son might share the same taste.

Early that morning, he descended into the prison.

So cold!

He did not use his Wu Gong to shield himself—he felt the cold naturally.

In winter, the prison was like an ice cellar. In each cell, prisoners clutched quilts, shivering violently, relying on trembling to generate warmth.

He walked straight to Xie Changling's cell.

The former attendant of the Crown Prince, a top-ranked imperial scholar—he must possess many fine things.

"How did you sleep last night, Master Xie?"

Xie Changling's face was blue from the cold, but his youth and strong body kept him holding on.

"What brings you here today, Prison Warden Chen?"

"The heir of the Hou Fu has returned and is hosting a banquet. I, too, am surnamed Chen, and received an invitation. I'm pondering what gift to bring. Since you've seen so much, I thought you might offer some advice."

"The heir is a soldier—pick any weapon: sword, spear, lance."

"Master Xie, that's not serious. Is that a gift? The heir of the Hou Fu is no ordinary general—don't try to fool me with such nonsense."

Xie Changling raised an eyebrow. "You understand well, Prison Warden Chen. If you know so much, why ask me?"

Chen Guanlou bared his teeth—these imprisoned officials were all donkeys; they didn't know when to stop unless whipped twice.

"It's cold at night, isn't it? I can make it even colder for you, Master Xie!" Chen Guanlou sneered. "Bring a bucket of ice water—pour it over his bedding."

"Prison Warden Chen, why must you humiliate a man like this?" Xie Changling finally seemed to grasp his situation.

Chen Guanlou chuckled coldly. "Are you willing to speak properly now, Master Xie?"

"What kind of gift do you seek? Perhaps I can offer some advice," Xie Changling said instantly—now he could speak reasonably.

The jailer still stood there, waiting: should he pour the ice water or not?

Chen Guanlou waved him off. "Leave."

"Do you have any advice on rare calligraphy scrolls or paintings?" Chen Guanlou demanded directly.

Xie Changling pondered. "I have a rare calligraphy copy given to me by my master—a treasure from a renowned painter of the previous dynasty. What do you think?"

"Too valuable."

"Not too valuable. I'll sell it to you for two hundred taels."

Chen Guanlou raised an eyebrow.

When did calligraphy from the previous dynasty become as cheap as cabbage?

"Master Xie, no need for such generosity. A modest treasure will suffice."

"Since it's for the Hou Fu, you must show true sincerity. I originally intended to recommend a unique scroll, but perhaps that's unsuitable. A renowned calligraphy copy better reflects your sincerity. Don't be modest with me—this copy is truly superfluous to me. Years from now, perhaps even before I grow old or die, my own calligraphy will become a prized work, one day a treasure. Even now, if I write a single piece, dozens will fight over it. A previous dynasty's master? He merely lived a few hundred years earlier, became famous a few hundred years sooner. My achievements will only surpass his. So this mere copy? Two hundred taels is still too much."

In a few decades, perhaps even before I grow old and die, my own calligraphy and paintings will become renowned works, and someday precious treasures. Even now, if I casually write a piece of calligraphy, countless people scramble to claim it. Those masters of the previous dynasty? They merely lived a few hundred years before me and became famous a few hundred years earlier. My achievements will only rise, never fall. So this mere copybook—two hundred taels is still too expensive.

Was this the arrogance of a scholarly god?

Being good at learning really was impressive! Boasting wasn't boasting—it was stating facts.

Chen Guanlou had nothing to say, no rebuttal.

Could he claim that the zhuangyuan's calligraphy was ugly and worthless? No scholar would accept that.

Could he say Xie Changling was delusional, dreaming of becoming Grand Secretary while still locked in prison, aspiring to be the greatest minister under heaven?

He could say Xie Changling was arrogant, dreaming of becoming a chancellor before even leaving Tianlaomiao, aiming to be the top minister under heaven.