Chapter 430

After finishing clan affairs, Marquis Hou's heir Chen Guanlou was immediately assigned a court duty: appointed as Vice Minister of Works.

Works?

Chen Guanlou smiled.

The old emperor, a general who had led troops for over a decade, was sent to the Works Department—even as Vice Minister—to sit alongside the traitor Jiang Tu. The intent was obvious.

"The heir is a military commander. Logically, he should have been placed in the Ministry of Military Affairs or the Five Armies Command, or at the very least the Imperial Stables. Who could have imagined the Emperor would assign him to the Works Department—specifically as Vice Minister alongside the traitor Jiang Tu? What is the Emperor's true intention?"

The chief steward furrowed his brow, instinctively concluding the old emperor had ill intent.

"The Works Department has money. It's not bad for me to go there. But the thought of having Jiang Tu as a colleague—seeing him every day, morning and night—is truly troublesome."

The chief steward hurried to say, "Your Excellency has never dealt with Jiang Tu. He's a shameless scoundrel, ignorant and uneducated. He rose solely through flattery and bullying, and now he serves the old emperor as a money-grubber in the Works Department."

"Once you're there, conflict with him is inevitable. If it reaches the Emperor's ears, he'll inevitably side with Jiang Tu and rebuke you. The more often it happens, the worse the outcome will be—I dare not imagine it. Is this the Emperor's goal in appointing you as Vice Minister? To suppress you?"

The chief steward frowned, beginning to worry about Chen Guanlou's future.

Chen Guanlou's expression remained calm. "Suppression? What of it? Military power is what matters. The Emperor removed me from the Ministry of Military Affairs and refused to place me in the Five Armies Command—he's deliberately keeping me away from military authority. Just like how he dealt with my father: after my father was crippled, he was stripped of his post and forced into idle retirement."

Same goal, just different methods. After all, my status in the army is nowhere near my father's. My influence among the noble families doesn't compare to his in his prime. In that light, I should thank the old emperor for his mercy—he didn't cripple me. Hah!"

Chen Guanlou gave a cold laugh, his eyes dark and heavy.

His mood was terrible.

The old emperor's move was a transparent, open stratagem.

Chen Guanlou could not resist—he had to obediently take up his post and serve diligently in the Works Department. Even if he wanted to act, he'd have to wait at least a year or two.

He gritted his teeth, then smiled again. "Going to the Works Department is fine. Consider it a rest. By next year's Heaven-Worship Ceremony..."

At the mention of the Heaven-Worship Ceremony, the chief steward hurried to report, "Word from Tianlaomiao: to prevent outsiders from interfering, Chen Guanlou himself poisoned the Great Ming Prince."

"Really?" Chen Guanlou looked slightly surprised.

"It's absolutely true."

Upon hearing this, Chen Guanlou fell silent for two seconds, then burst into loud laughter. "Chen Guanlou is truly brilliant—how did he even think of poisoning him himself? Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"

"Do you approve of his actions?"

"Why wouldn't I? Clearly, Chen Guanlou's poisoning won't kill the Great Ming Prince—it's a signal to those plotting: don't move! Someone in court has already planned to kill the Great Ming Prince. He must not die too soon—he must die at the right moment. Hah! How clever of him."

Chen Guanlou's mood seemed to improve considerably.

"Send more silver to Tianlaomiao. Tell Chen Guanlou to feed the Great Ming Prince well, make sure he grows plump and healthy. He's the Emperor's designated offering for the Heaven-Worship Ceremony—no mistakes allowed."

"What if Chen Guanlou messes up and kills the Great Ming Prince first?"

"Then that's his fate. He's served in Tianlaomiao for years—if he can't even control the dosage and safety of poison, his abilities are limited. The Marquis Hou's household shouldn't keep investing in him."

Chen Guanlou spoke these cold words with a smile.

The chief steward nodded. "I understand."

…

Since the Great Ming Prince was poisoned, the jailers watched him stagger with every step, gasping for breath, all of them on edge, terrified he'd suddenly choke and die.

Xiao Jin ran to Chen Guanlou to complain: "Why not go back to the old medicine? Let the Great Ming Prince lie comatose on the bed. His current state has us all on edge, never able to relax—it's unbearable."

"You know why me and Physician Mu poisoned him. I told you before: Tianlaomiao is a sieve—every corner has eyes. If we don't poison him, someone else will. We won't get lucky like last time every time. By poisoning him ourselves, we control the dosage and ensure safety. If outsiders do it, they mean to kill him outright."

Xiao Jin:...

He had no rebuttal.

Because it was all true.

Chen Guanlou's expression softened. "Tell the jailers: this period has been hard. Their bonus will be increased by thirty percent. Under my command, no one works hard without pay. The more effort you give, the more you earn. Everyone will understand."

"Understood! As long as there's money, the boys won't complain. Even if they do, they'll swallow it. Whoever dares to grumble—I'll beat him to death before you even have to lift a finger."

"No need to beat him to death. Pay for work is only right. If you take the money and still complain, you're breaking the rules. For rule-breakers, transfer them immediately to the Jia-class prison."

"Understood!"

Xiao Jin, energized by the order, marched proudly into the prison to address the jailers.

This tradition of addressing the men began with Chen Guanlou. Now all the shift leaders copied him—speeches, meetings, one routine after another.

The third month of winter was brutally cold.

Early that morning, two stiff corpses were carried out of the Jia-class prison—frozen to death, rigid as boards.

The neighboring Yi-class and Bing-class prisons fared worse: over a dozen corpses were carried out that morning—all frozen to death.

Physician Mu followed protocol, examined the bodies, confirmed causes of death, and issued official documents.

Tianlaomiao drafted reports and submitted them to the Ministry of Justice.

The bodies were temporarily stored in the morgue.

Not enough space?

In this cold, pile them together. When families come to claim them, separate them one by one.

No choice—Tianlaomiao has no better conditions. Cold weather, high death toll, procedures must be followed. Piling bodies saves space.

The Jia-class prison was better off—it hadn't even used its monthly death quota. Chen Guanlou was a conscientious jailer. No matter how ragged the clothes, if they kept warmth, he gave them to the imprisoned officials.

No firepots allowed in the cells—no ventilation!

All they could do was shiver, relying on quilts and cotton-padded robes for warmth.

Last night was so cold, the temperature dropped suddenly. Chen Guanlou himself felt the chill drop twenty degrees in just a few hours—so much so that two men froze to death in the Jia-class prison.