Chapter 93

Shi Hong put on his brand-new uniform and walked into the Class-A Prison with a self-satisfied air.

The jailers rushed forward to flatter him. Even if they didn’t know how to flatter, they had to show their faces—no room for Shi Hong to find fault.

Chen Guanlou ignored him, sitting behind the duty desk with his legs propped up, cracking sunflower seeds.

Shi Hong, surrounded by the jailers, entered the duty room. Seeing this, he was immediately furious.

Glancing at the jailers behind him, Shi Hong lifted his chin like a cockerel pumped full of adrenaline, strutting forward aggressively: “Chen Tou, you don’t welcome me? Hmph, those who don’t know might think you and Li Tou are close, defending his interests. But who doesn’t know you two have long since broken ties? Has his account been settled?”

Chen Guanlou snorted, spitting out a sunflower seed shell: “When a man’s dead, all debts vanish. Shi Tou—wait, is it really Shi Tou you want called? You just started your post, and already you’re digging up the dead man’s old accounts? You’ve got real talent.”

“Call me Hong Tou!”

“Right, Hong Tou—Hong Yun Dang Tou. Perfect.”

There’s always someone ready to kiss ass. With Shi Hong’s rise, the jailers flocked to him, clearly betting on his future. After all, he had a beautiful cousin whispering in the prison warden’s ear—far better than Chen Tou’s book-smart pretensions.

Shi Hong clearly approved of the flattery: Hong Tou—yes, very good.

“I’m a veteran of the Class-A Prison. I know the rules better than you, Chen Tou. I won’t dig up Li Tou’s old accounts. But this welcome you’ve given me? It’ll make people think you hold a grudge against me.”

Chen Guanlou laughed heartily: “I hold no grudge against you. I’m more worried you hold one against me.”

He put his feet down, stood, and walked up to Shi Hong, patting his shoulder: “I’ve been head guard a few days longer than you. More experience. If you ever have questions, come ask me.”

Shi Hong: …

His face twisted with rage.

Chen Guanlou had effortlessly outmaneuvered him in presence and aura. He didn’t even need to turn around—he could picture the jailers’ expressions.

Chen Guanlou walked out, and the jailers parted, clearing a path down the center.

“Good morning, Chen Tou!”

One voice started it; soon, dozens followed, shouting in unison: “Good morning, Chen Tou!”

Chen Guanlou waved, heading to find Fan Yuli for tea.

“I had no choice!” Fan Yuli sat in the office, looking pained: “I only found out two days ago—the prison warden’s new concubine is Shi Hong’s cousin.”

“Other things aren’t the worry—it’s that Shi Hong, with the warden’s backing, won’t respect you at all!” Chen Guanlou expressed deep concern: “I even suspect Shi Hong has his eyes on your position.”

What?

Fan Yuli grew uneasy: “That can’t be! The warden himself promised me this post. Besides, I’ve already given all the proper gifts.”

“Who can stand against pillow talk? Even in the palace… the power of pillow talk is something court officials know better than anyone.”

Chen Guanlou hinted delicately.

Fan Yuli panicked: “Then what should I do? If the warden breaks his promise, I can’t stop him!”

He’d only just taken the post—he hadn’t even made enough money. He couldn’t let it be snatched away.

Chen Guanlou considered carefully: “Shi Hong is a veteran here—he understands rules and knows when to advance or retreat. Someone like him, in my humble opinion, must be given responsibility—give him heavy burdens, let him shoulder the Class-A Prison’s weight.”

He stressed the words “heavy burdens.”

Fan Yuli caught the implication instantly. He nodded vigorously: “You’re right. Shi Hong’s a veteran—he should be given heavy burdens. I’ll handle it. Xiao Chen, you’ve got quick wits. Don’t worry—same boat, same fortune. My gains are yours too.”

“Thank you, Young Master Fan!”

Chen Guanlou quickly pledged his loyalty.

Fan Yuli chuckled gleefully.

Bad news never comes alone.

Just days after Shi Hong’s promotion, another thunderclap struck the Tianlao. This time, everyone from top to bottom wailed in despair: “Too cruel!”

Why?

Because the rules had changed.

The higher-ups were desperate for money—they’d turned their eyes to the Tianlao.

Under the old rules, prisoners’ payments: 30% went to the prison’s public account, 40% went upward, and 30% was split among jailers and head guards. This system had held for years—everyone was satisfied. Jailers worked hard and collected money eagerly. The officials above were pleased too—the jailers handled everything, no need for them to intervene.

Suddenly, the higher-ups demanded 70% go upward, 20% to the public account, and only 10% left for jailers and head guards.

The moment this decision came out, from the chief to the warden to the yuli to the head guards to the jailers—everyone cursed. So damn corrupt.

Fan Yuli cursed the loudest—he’d just arrived, hadn’t even made his money, and now this rule.

Previously, “upward payments” still allowed some to slip through—colloquially called “handling money.” Now, inspections were strict—no handling money allowed. Whatever was collected had to be handed over in full. To prevent collusion, the Ministry of Justice had stationed several accountants permanently in the Tianlao to audit the books.

“Too corrupt! The higher-ups are too corrupt! They eat meat and won’t even let us sip the broth! Uncle, Young Master Fan—this can’t be allowed to stand!”

Fan Yuli ran to complain to Fan Yucheng.

His income had halved—how could he make money now? He’d abandoned his scholar’s dignity to become a yuli—and this was his reward? He was ready to explode.

“What can we do? Let it cool!” Fan Yucheng was so furious his vision darkened. To stop him from stealing, they’d even assigned accountants to audit daily.

He gritted his teeth. His patron wouldn’t lift a finger over this—no help coming. He had no choice but to endure it helplessly.

He hadn’t eaten, drunk, or slept well for two days—he’d lost weight. The beautiful concubine he’d just taken—he’d promised her a set of jewelry. Now he’d have to break his word.

Li Shiyeh sighed heavily: “The Ministry of Revenue is broke—delaying court officials’ salaries for over half a year. The Tianlao hasn’t received a single coin or grain in nearly as long—barely surviving on its own private account. Now the public account’s been slashed by 10%, the jailers’ share by 20%—it’ll only get worse.”

“I heard the Emperor’s expenses keep rising—he’s squeezing harder and harder…”

“Shh! Watch your tongue! Do you want to die?” Fan Yucheng glared fiercely at Fan Yuli: “This is the capital, not your ancestral village. Keep your mouth shut—always. Even in your dreams, don’t speak.”

Young Master Fan looked embarrassed, chastened.

Li Shiyeh cleared his throat softly: “The rebels in Jinzhou are growing fiercer—the Ministry of War demands funds daily. But the Emperor refuses to draw from the Imperial Treasury, forcing Jiang Tu to squeeze the provinces harder—public resentment boils over. Many officials have gone to the Crown Prince…”

“Enough!” Fan Yucheng’s face hardened: “This matter—below, the jailers will be grumbling. Keep a close eye. If anyone stirs trouble, show no mercy.”