Chapter 41: This Is My Rule

“Back when Zhao Tou promised to bring people in, he still hasn’t brought anyone in yet.”

“What are you talking about?”

Chen Guanlou felt his ears must be malfunctioning.

What the hell.

Bringing people into the Heavenly Prison?

The former Zhao Tou had that much nerve.

“Why pretend you don’t know, Chen Tou?”

“Who are you bringing in?”

“My household steward. The matter came suddenly—he was taken straight from the yamen to the Heavenly Prison, and I didn’t even have time to give instructions about household affairs. I beg you, Chen Tou, to do me a favor and let me meet him. Don’t worry, as soon as I see him, the silver will be paid in full.”

“Absurd!”

Chen Guanlou was utterly astonished by the way the Jia-sized prison operated.

Anyone in the Bing-sized prison who dared make such a request would have their legs broken on the spot.

“Do you think the Heavenly Prison is your backyard, just to bring someone in for a visit?”

“Are you going back on your word, Chen Tou?”

“That’s the former man’s problem—if you’ve got the ability, go find Zhao Tou and get it done.”

“Aren’t you afraid the Ten Thousand Jailers will hold you accountable? Your side hasn’t even completed this task yet,” said Jin my lord, smiling faintly.

Chen Guanlou silently cursed.

“Wait and see!”

With that, he turned and walked away.

He found Chen Quan and the other three and exploded, “What the hell are you doing? This is the Heavenly Prison—how could you agree to let a prisoner bring someone in? Does the higher-ups know you’re doing this?”

"Chen Tou, you don't understand—the higher-ups have always known. They've just turned a blind eye. As long as nothing goes wrong, they won't pursue it."

“What if something does go wrong? What if a convict commits suicide? Can you bear the consequences?”

“But over all these years, nothing like what Chen Tou fears has ever happened.”

“Those officials value their lives more than anyone else. They won’t kill themselves.”

Chen Guanlou snorted at that. “According to my knowledge, three officials have already committed suicide in the Jia-sized prison this year alone.”

“Those three officials knew they couldn’t escape death—they chose to end it early.”

“So that’s your excuse?”

“Sometimes the higher-ups are happy when these convicts quietly die inside the Heavenly Prison.”

Chen Guanlou: …

He really had too little experience.

He’d forgotten about the tradition of “suicide.”

When a convict knows too much, the case is urgent, and there’s no chance of appeal, better to just “commit suicide.”

It seems bringing visitors into meet convicts has become a tradition in the Jia-sized prison. No one investigates because officials themselves have the same needs—they need to send people in to give instructions, settle affairs, and handle people.

“Do the other battalion heads do this too?”

All four jailers nodded in unison.

“If Chen Tou doesn’t believe us, ask around.”

“The Ten Thousand Jailers know all about this. Deputy Warden Fan surely knows too. The head official takes his cut of the silver and sometimes even helps cover it up—he must be well aware.”

“This is already the tradition of the Jia-sized prison. Since Chen Tou previously served in the Bing-sized prison, it’s natural you didn’t know the details.”

“Some rules of the Jia-sized prison are silently understood by its jailers—not to be spoken of outside.”

Chen Guanlou slapped the table, pondering the matter.

“What crime did Jin my lord commit?”

“Something about embezzlement.”

“A conspiracy case?”

“Not sure.”

“Qian Fugui, go tell Jin my lord—the price has gone up. If he pays another five hundred taels, I’ll agree.”

Qian Fugui hesitated. “Chen Tou, isn’t that inappropriate? Shouldn’t you honor your word?”

Chen Guanlou sneered. “What’s the point of keeping your word with a convict? Besides, six hundred taels was Zhao Tou’s price. Now I’m in charge—my price is eight hundred taels. I’ve already given him face by accepting the three hundred he paid.”

Qian Fugui still wanted to argue, but Xiao Jin kept signaling him and kicked him—only then did he finally catch on and leave.

Chen Guanlou stared at the remaining three. “From now on, whenever it involves the Jia-sized prison’s traditions, you must explain them clearly beforehand. I don’t want to see anything like today again. And remember—I’m your head.”

The three looked at each other, then replied in unison, “Yes.”

Jin my lord agreed readily—he’d pay five hundred taels immediately if his steward was brought in.

Chen Guanlou muttered, “These officials really have money. Jin’s posted in the Ministry of Works—he’s handled countless construction projects. His vaults are probably overflowing. We’re doing him a favor by helping him spend it—saving him from the charge of massive corruption when his house is eventually seized.”

“Chen Tou truly has vision. Taking money from these convicts is helping them avoid disaster—immense merit!”

Chen Guanlou glanced at Xiao Jin, whose flattery was painfully awkward—he still wasn’t used to it.

He was just a lowly battalion head, and now suddenly he had silver, subordinates, and people fawning over him. The shift in status was staggering.

Yesterday he was a junior jailer in the Bing-sized prison; today he’s the boss.

Xiao Jin, noticing Chen Guanlou staring at him, looked confused and asked cautiously, “Chen Tou, is there anything else you need?”

Chen Guanlou shook his head.

Xiao Jin immediately said, “Chen Tou, we four talked it over—we’re planning a banquet tonight at Guanmei Pavilion. We’d be honored if you’d join us.”

Chen Guanlou wanted to refuse—he’d drunk at Guanmei Pavilion last night and had no desire to drink again. But then he thought: this was their tribute. If he refused, they’d start overthinking, maybe cause more trouble.

Fine.

“Alright. Tonight, we’ll drink at Guanmei Pavilion—I’ll treat.”

“How could we let Chen Tou pay? We’ll pay—we insist. Don’t be so formal with us.”

Xiao Jin, thrilled by the confirmation, left happily.

Chen Guanlou returned to the duty room and met the other battalion heads and jailers. Their attitudes ranged from cold to warm, depending on their personalities.

He was a newcomer who’d been instantly promoted to battalion head—this angered the other jailers, who grumbled bitterly. With Zhao Tou gone, the jailers of the Jia-sized prison, especially the senior ones, were all scheming—bribing, networking—hoping to take Zhao Tou’s place.

The battalion head position was extremely desirable. They’d fight to the death for it.

They’d battled fiercely, and yet none expected the position would go to a newcomer just transferred from the Bing-sized prison—a boy under twenty, a raw recruit.

Dozens of jailers were furious—hundreds of them were furious.

When Chen Guanlou walked into the duty room, the jailers sneered silently, none offering him a good face—except Li Tou from his own shift, who treated him politely.

Both were battalion heads, with no immediate conflict of interest. Li Dahong was happy to give Chen Guanlou face and greeted him warmly.

“I’m over ten years older than you. We’ll be eating from the same pot from now on—I’ll be bold and call you younger brother. You don’t mind, right?”

“Li Ge, you’re being too formal. I’m new and have much to learn—I’ll need your guidance. I only hope you won’t find me a nuisance.”

Li Dahong was about the same age as Xu Fugui—one called him “uncle,” the other “older brother”—Chen Guanlou found it quite comfortable.