Chapter 42

The guards dared not vent their anger directly on Chen Guanlou.

So they took it out on Chen Quan and the other three, cursing them for being cowardly mice, asking why they bowed so meekly to Chen Guanlou and had not an ounce of backbone.

Liu She whispered a defense: “Our squad started with ten men, and now only four of us are left—exactly because we were cowards.”

Those with courage all followed Zhao Tou out of the prison, losing their iron rice bowls.

“So being a coward is justified now? Are you even men?” The big guard jabbed his finger straight into Liu She’s face.

Liu She shrank back nervously, clearly terrified. He was small to begin with, and under the big guard’s shadow, he looked like a chick—easily crushed with a single squeeze.

Xiao Jin stepped forward to block the big guard, explaining: “Superiors are pressing us for money. If we don’t cooperate with Chen Tou and delay the matter, no one can bear the responsibility.”

“You’re not under his command, so of course you talk big without feeling the strain. I don’t want to lose this job,” Qian Fugui muttered. His fatness came entirely from the prison. He would never let go of this iron rice bowl.

“Chen Guanlou is nothing but shit. A fallen family, barely six months in the prison—what’s there to fear?” The big guard was seething.

“Chen Tou has authority,” Chen Quan whispered.

“Authority? What authority? A teenager, not even grown a single hair—where’s his authority? Don’t tell me you don’t know his background. He’s been out of the Hou Fu’s five degrees of kinship for ages. If he were truly from the Hou Fu, would he be reduced to a guard? To outsiders, prison guards are lowly work—barely better than courtesans or beggars on the street.”

The big guard was nearly driven to death by these four useless colleagues.

He’d never seen such spineless trash.

Xiao Jin chuckled twice. “You’ve got a point. But what about the money? What do we do about it? Wanyu Li doesn’t care about this, and Fan Yu Cheng won’t meddle either. The chief officers above, and their superiors, the Vice Ministers—they all want their cut. Our matters are trivial; delaying the division of silver among the officials is a matter of life and death.”

“That’s right, that’s right!”

“This case has already dragged on too long—it can’t be delayed any further.”

“If we don’t pay up, we’ll all be in deep trouble.”

“At least Chen Tou has solved the most pressing issue for now.”

The four of them, as if each had a hundred mouths, fired back one after another.

The big guard turned livid with rage, furious at their weakness. “Fine! You all have your excuses—I’m the villain now. Let’s see how this plays out.”

The big guard stormed off.

Liu She was deeply worried. “Do you think he’ll go straight to Chen Tou and cause trouble?”

“He doesn’t have the guts. Chen Tou is still a head.”

“But Chen Tou is new here.”

“This is the Tianlaomiao. Nothing else matters—only silver counts. As long as Chen Tou has money, no one will dare provoke him.”

Chen Guanlou knew nothing of all this.

He was busy going through the prisoner rolls, learning the conditions of the Jia-class cells, striving to act with precision and avoid accidentally offending the wrong people.

Anyone with eyes could see the Jia-class cells were far more complicated than the Bing-class ones.

The Bing-class cells were simple and direct, with no hidden tricks—easy duty. Patrols only required confirming prisoner counts and conditions, preventing outside contact, and the rest of the time was just loafing.

The Jia-class cells were far more complex: openly bringing visitors to see prisoners alone carried serious risk. Best no incident occurs; if one does, best the superiors don’t investigate. Once they do, someone will die.

Navigating the fine line here depended entirely on personal wisdom.

Thus, Chen Guanlou urgently needed to understand every prisoner’s situation inside, especially those under his jurisdiction. He also had to fully uncover the hidden rules of the Jia-class cells—avoiding taboos and not disrupting others’ profit streams.

Cutting off someone’s livelihood is like killing their parents. He didn’t want to suddenly gain a host of enemies who’d poison his water, slip a dangerous prisoner into his zone, or engineer chaos—leaving him alive but stripped to the bone.

Take money, do the job.

The guards worked efficiently. The next day, they brought the Jin family’s steward into the prison, counted the money in person, and led him to the cell of the imprisoned official, Master Jin. The guards stepped back ten paces, giving the master and servant space to speak.

After taking the money, they immediately turned it in, completing the transaction.

Then came the split.

On his second day working in the Jia-class cells, Chen Guanlou pocketed sixty taels.

The other four guards also reaped rich rewards. With ten men now split among four, the share was simply too sweet.

The Jin master and steward spoke for about a cup of tea’s time, then the steward was escorted out of the prison.

Chen Guanlou called Chen Quan over. “Did you see clearly? Did they pass any objects?”

“Chen Tou, rest assured—I watched closely. Their bodies never touched.”

Chen Guanlou relaxed slightly. “Did you hear what they said?”

Chen Quan shook his head. “They spoke too quietly. I didn’t catch anything.”

Chen Guanlou’s expression turned grave.

Chen Quan grew tense. “Chen Tou, are you worried about something?”

“I inquired. Jin’s case is part of a larger conspiracy—he’s merely the thread. Who’s at the other end? What’s their power? No one knows. From now on, when you patrol, watch Jin closely. I won’t tolerate anything unusual in my zone—especially suicide by fear of punishment.”

“Chen Tou, you’re overthinking. Jin is extremely attached to life. He’s confident he’ll walk free—he’s got his little sister as a favorite concubine of the Prince of the East Sea.”

Chen Guanlou snorted. “Think he can walk free so easily? The Emperor is building palaces and gardens, refining elixirs—he’s short on silver right now.”

Jiang Tu’s greatest skill is reading the Emperor’s mind—he always hits the right spot. Other officials make the old Emperor furious enough to kill. Jiang Tu speaks, and the Emperor laughs heartily, eating two extra bites of food.

Jiang Tu’s second greatest skill is amassing wealth—he’s a master at squeezing silver for the Emperor.

Watch closely: the Emperor can’t do without Jiang Tu. With the New Year approaching and the Emperor short on cash, Jiang Tu will be reinstated soon.

Very soon, court developments confirmed Chen Guanlou’s judgment.

Jiang Tu was reinstated as Assistant Director of the Ministry of Finance. Within days, the Emperor appointed him as Vice Minister of Public Works, tasked with constructing palaces and gardens for the Emperor’s elixir refining.

One man held both roles: gathering silver and spending it.

This imperial favor—who in the court could match it?