Chapter 49

Chen Guanlou brought a flask of wine to Lord Jin: “It’s the start of the New Year; let’s all be a little happier. As long as no one’s been beheaded, there’s still a chance to walk out of Tianlaomiao.”

Lord Jin clutched the wine flask like a treasured heirloom, carefully sipping a small mouthful.

“What’s the situation outside?” Lord Jin was desperate to know what was happening beyond the walls, to understand the court’s political landscape. His case had dragged on for years with no clear resolution—he couldn’t even be sure of his own life or death.

Chen Guanlou weighed his words carefully. “Jiang Tu spent the night in the imperial palace. The censors rose up in unison to condemn him. Nothing else has stirred the court more recently.”

Ah!

Lord Jin visibly froze. “Has Jiang Tu gone mad? Doesn’t he know how grave it is to spend the night in the palace?”

“I heard the Emperor kept him overnight. But after the scandal broke, the Emperor refused to speak up for Jiang Tu, so the censors naturally dismissed that explanation.”

Lord Jin chuckled. “It seems the Emperor also thinks Jiang Tu has grown too arrogant and needs to be reined in. But it’s just a storm in a teacup—as long as the Emperor still tasks Jiang Tu with building palaces and gardens, the Jiang family won’t suffer.”

“Your insight is sharp. Now, analyze Yu Zhaoan’s situation. The Grand Censor argued with him—what do you think they were arguing about?”

“It’s always the same two words: abandon. Either Yu Zhaoan abandons his principles, submits, and blends into the crowd—then the Jixia Academy has ways to get him out. Or the Jixia Academy and the Censorate have both decided to abandon him, and he should prepare himself.”

“Your insight is indeed keen. But isn’t there a third possibility? For instance, unequal distribution of benefits?”

Lord Jin shook his head and whispered, “The Yu family is immensely wealthy. Yu Zhaoan has no shortage of Qian Cai. That’s the very source of his courage to insult the Emperor. He isn’t afraid of being investigated—he simply has no habit of accepting bribes.”

“So noble?”

Lord Jin scoffed at once. “Then tell me—how did the Yu family rise from a modest landowning household to a regional powerhouse in just one or two decades?”

Chen Guanlou instantly understood. Yu Zhaoan himself never took bribes—but his family’s estates and businesses had grown to their current scale entirely through his official status, reputation, and court connections.

Bribery isn’t only about handing over cash.

“Then do you think the Censorate will abandon Yu Zhaoan?”

Lord Jin shook his head. “Hard to say. If the higher-ups remain silent and Tianlaomiao is ordered to maintain Yu Zhaoan’s treatment, then the Censorate and Jixia Academy are protecting him. Otherwise, they’ve abandoned him. I suspect the Grand Censor came to see Yu Zhaoan to persuade him to submit, to submit a petition of repentance. Only when the Emperor calms down can they move to rescue him. But Yu Zhaoan’s temper is unbearable—he won’t yield anytime soon.”

Got it!

So Yu Zhaoan’s treatment must be maintained.

After chatting with Lord Jin, Chen Guanlou wandered over to Yu Zhaoan’s cell.

Rarely, Yu Zhaoan actually looked at him and spoke: “What martial art are you practicing? You’ve improved quickly.”

What?

Did he notice?

Impossible, impossible.

Chen Guanlou forced mental reassurance, ensuring his expression remained perfectly calm, showing no trace.

“Your Excellency, I don’t understand what you mean.”

Yu Zhaoan sneered. “I am a third-rank martial cultivator. Do you think your petty tricks can escape my eyes? Don’t play clever in front of me—it only makes you look like a fool. I have no interest in the crude martial arts of a mere warrior.”

A terrible misunderstanding!

He hadn’t thought that at all, nor had he been clever—he’d simply pretended ignorance to avoid drawing attention to his strange nature.

“Your Excellency, please calm down. I am foolish and ungrateful. May I humbly ask—how did you notice my martial progress?”

Rarely, Yu Zhaoan didn’t disdain his jailer status and answered frankly: “Your breathing is long and rhythmic. Your eyes are bright. Your steps are steady and composed.”

“That’s it?” Chen Guanlou asked, curious.

Yu Zhaoan glanced at him. “Your hands are strong, your movements precise. Isn’t that enough? Before, your steps were light and unsteady—you clearly had little martial training. Lately, I’ve watched you improve far faster than anyone else. If you had a martial vein, I’d say you could reach the fifth rank.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency. Though I have no martial vein, your praise alone is enough to comfort me.”

Chen Guanlou was inwardly pleased.

A warrior is good.

Again, even a third-rank martialist couldn’t see through him—he only took him for an ordinary warrior.

His joy showed on his face; his speech now carried a festive tone.

Yu Zhaoan seemed to have grown accustomed to him and continued: “Knowing contentment is good. Among all the jailers in Tianlaomiao, they’re all crude, useless, their bodies hollowed out by wine, women, wealth, and lust. Looking around, only you are different. You don’t gamble, you drink with restraint, and you train to strengthen your body. Such ambition—what a waste, trapped here as a jailer.”

Chen Guanlou smiled. “Ha! Thank you for your kindness, Your Excellency. Being a jailer is a lowly trade—it requires little skill but demands enduring psychological torment and moral anguish, while the body suffers long-term damage from the damp, cold prison air. Wine, women, wealth, and lust may seem crude—but after sacrificing years of life, enduring humiliation and contempt, bearing physical and spiritual wounds, one must have some reward. For a jailer, nothing else fits the cost—only wine, women, wealth, and lust.”

Yu Zhaoan’s expression shifted to unmistakable surprise.

He slowly shook his head. “I never expected such reasoning to come from a jailer. I underestimated you. Did you study?”

“I studied formally for two years, but I wasn’t cut out for it—I never amounted to anything.” Chen Guanlou admitted openly.

“Only two years of study, and so young—you speak with such insight. Clearly, you have talent. I repeat: what a waste, trapped here as a jailer. If I ever get out, would you be willing to follow me as a minor clerk?”

Chen Guanlou: …

A heavenly opportunity!

Opportunities come to those prepared. Here it was.

If he were truly an ordinary man, he’d immediately kowtow and cry, “My lord!”

But he wasn’t ordinary—he carried the Immortal Fruit of Longevity and the mysterious Sheng Tian Lu. How could he risk lingering near a sharp mind like Yu Zhaoan? He might fool him for a year—but not for eight or ten. The moment his secret was discovered, death would follow.

So he could only refuse with tears in his heart.

“You… Your Excellency, you don’t despise my lowliness and offer me this chance? I am deeply grateful. But I have no desire to leave Tianlaomiao yet. I must respectfully decline your kindness.”