Chapter Sixty-Two: The Traitorous Minister

Eating the cooked beef, Chifeng's thoughts drifted to the wineskin hidden beneath the bedding. Feeling lightheaded, he reached out, but before he could touch the covers, Jiang Lan struck his hand with a swift blow.

Clutching his swollen hand, now as large as a bear's paw, Chifeng was full of grievances and wanted to argue with the culprit. But then he caught sight of the slender white arm beneath the brocade, and was startled into silence.

"Two people came in, but neither spoke to me. They were all bowing and scraping, showing utmost respect to that person," Chifeng said.

Seeing Jiang Lan's thoughtful expression, Chifeng knew she believed him. Perhaps that person hadn't deceived him after all, and truly understood the temperament and thoughts of mortals.

Jiang Lan, unaware that in this brief moment of contemplation, Chifeng was already scheming in his heart, was now pondering the identity of the Gu mentioned by Chifeng.

"Could it be him?"

"Him? Who?" Chifeng's eyes widened. Already a burly man, his eyes now looked like bronze bells—enough to frighten any mortal.

Jiang Lan grinned, then swiftly untied the sachet at her waist and opened the pouch inside. Before Chifeng could finish the meat in his hand, he was promptly stuffed inside.

Of course, Jiang Lan wasn't stingy. She also tossed in the food wrapped in oiled paper and a wineskin her younger sister had left for her to warm herself at night.

Sitting on the warm bedding, Jiang Lan wasn't sleepy. She watched the moonlight streaming through the window like flowing water, pooling on the floor, and felt a pang of hunger.

She pulled the small table before her and opened the food box.

It was a large box, each layer filled with various dishes—many she had never seen before. She laid out a dazzling array, filling the table to the brim.

"Mmm! This is delicious! That one's delicious! My heavens, this is just too good!"

"Mmm~" Hearing the sound of someone swallowing, Jiang Lan looked up to find herself surrounded by a crowd of gaunt, drifting spirits.

"Mother, I told you she could see us—she really sees us!" piped a little ghost in front, clutching his head and covering his face, perhaps thinking that would make him invisible.

Jiang Lan was amused and beckoned, "Come here."

The little ghost, bold and sturdy, floated over, seeing Jiang Lan wasn't angry. "Are you a great immortal?"

Jiang Lan shook her head and with a mischievous smile replied, "I'm a great demon!"

"That's even better. Immortals aren't necessarily good people."

Jiang Lan patted the little ghost's head. "You're young, but you have some spirit."

The little ghost dodged her hand, his chubby baby face full of indignation. "Just because I'm a great demon doesn't mean you can insult my age! I may look small, but I've been here the longest. I've spent countless years in this prison—you might not even be older than me."

He pointed to the other drifting spirits around them. "Don’t be fooled by their white hair and long beards. None of them are older than me."

Jiang Lan nodded. This child must have died here before reaching ten, his features frozen at that age. Such ghosts, bound by the trauma of their deaths, cannot leave this place, doomed to spend their days in darkness.

Unless blessed with great fortune—ascending to immortality or being sent to reincarnation by underworld emissaries—they would live out endless monotonous days.

Some who had been here long enough were already vacant and withered, like ashes, devoid of vitality.

But this oldest among them still retained his childlike nature—a rare thing.

The prison was dark, perfect for evil spirits to thrive. Even in daylight, as long as they avoided direct sunlight, the prison’s baleful energy allowed them to move freely.

"What’s your name?"

---

"It's been too long to remember. I only recall someone once called me Tutu."

Jiang Lan recognized it as a childhood nickname—after so many years, only the calls from family remain in memory.

"Come, have something to eat."

Tutu hesitated. "...Can my companions join?"

Jiang Lan glanced at the old, weak, sickly spirits behind Tutu. He had taken in only those ghosts untainted by blood, showing his kindness.

"Everyone sit, don’t be shy."

Jiang Lan’s appetite was fierce, but she just wanted to try something new. After a night outside, she was tired, yet unable to sleep, her mind troubled by the day’s events.

She drank the wine her younger sister sent, warming herself as she listened to Tutu recount their stories.

They had all died from false accusations, schemes, or entanglements, trapped and perished in prison. Some had lost their entire families, lingering in the mortal realm for the sake of a single obsession, unwilling to reincarnate.

Jiang Lan listened with intent. She wanted to help, but seeing herself now trapped and unable to protect herself, she realized she was in no position.

The twists and turns of mortal affairs were troublesome. She didn’t even know what she’d done to be caught in such a web. Although Xue Dafu had been dealt with by Qingli, what about the contract?

Clearly, even without Qingli’s intervention, Xue Dafu would still have died, and blame would still fall on her in countless ways.

Never harm others, but always guard against them!

Jiang Lan decided that from now on, she would avoid anyone from the Anping Prince’s family—truly terrifying.

A mortal body has but one life; a single misstep and it’s gone.

She knew her limits—she couldn’t outplay these scheming mortals.

In the past, she relied on her fist; now, that wouldn’t work.

She’d have to use mortals to deal with mortals.

With that thought, Jiang Lan acted immediately.

"Tutu, are there any particularly powerful figures here? Those who were high officials—really high-ranking ones?"

Tutu quickly swallowed his food. "Powerful people? There are two, but they’re not under my care. Each is stubborn as a mule."

Jiang Lan was intrigued and asked for details.

Tutu explained that after he died and arrived here, another companion came—a sprightly old man of over sixty, whose ghost was shrouded in blood. Even the underworld messengers avoided him.

"He was a high-ranking official?"

Tutu nodded. "Extremely high. He rose to the rank of Grand Chancellor, held sway over the young emperor, wielded power as a traitor! Many hated him bitterly."

"What’s his name?"

"Gu Chengwu. Born a farmer’s son, with no illustrious background, but rose through the civil examinations, winning honors six times. He had talent for statecraft, but was ruthless and unscrupulous… tsk, tsk—the greatest villain in history!"

Jiang Lan’s eyes sparkled. Not bad. "You said there were two—what about the other?"

"There he is."

Following Tutu’s finger, Jiang Lan saw an elder in the corner. Although his clothes were ragged, he stood straight, holding a book under the candlelight, reading intently.

---

His features were refined, his entire being radiating a compassionate glow as if he mourned for the world.

Such a person shouldn’t be confined to a prison cell.

Tutu seemed to notice Jiang Lan’s confusion.

"That’s Elder Xie, Xie Muyun. He came here about twenty years ago, stayed half a year before he died. He spent his days writing and drawing in the prison, then succumbed to illness. When he arrived in the underworld, the officials tried to send him to reincarnation, but he refused—afraid his two treasured books would be lost or defiled. He wouldn’t leave for anything.

The underworld officer was kind. Seeing Elder Xie’s record of good deeds, he reported to his superiors, who granted him more time to settle his affairs.

Elder Xie was stubborn, picking and choosing among the prisoners. When he found someone he liked—someone who’d been framed and had no hope of release—he knew it was futile to entrust them with his books. When he found someone who could leave, he disliked their cunning and wouldn’t trust them.

So, he’s lingered here for a dozen or twenty years."

Jiang Lan frowned. "You said he has many good deeds—why is he a prisoner?"

"Ah," Tutu propped his head on one hand, "sometimes being too clever and good is a mistake!"

"Hmm?"

"Elder Xie spent his life serving the people, highly esteemed among the masses. His talent earned him the post of Crown Prince’s tutor. However, the Crown Prince lacked virtue, losing the people's support. The court was rife with factions, and he grew estranged from the emperor. Meanwhile, the young Prince Qin, obedient and always defending the borders, won great acclaim among the people.

Later, the Crown Prince committed a grave error. Fearing he’d lose his title, he plotted rebellion, forcing the aged emperor to abdicate, and took the throne with his traitorous ministers.

Elder Xie saw it all, grieved deeply. Knowing the Crown Prince was not fit to rule, he risked his life to send the emperor’s decree to Prince Qin at the border.

When the Crown Prince discovered this, he imprisoned Elder Xie. He wanted to kill him in rage, but Elder Xie’s reputation was so high that an unjust death could spark revolt. So he confined him here, subjecting him to torture…

Later, Prince Qin returned with the decree and an army of hundreds of thousands, restoring the rightful order. Elder Xie died in prison, but the new king’s first edict was to honor him."

"A truly upright and honest man," Jiang Lan mused. Should she try to recruit them both? Each had their own strengths, and if balanced, perhaps they could keep each other in check.

But according to Tutu, these two were like great demons—how could she bring them under her command and make them useful?

Lost in thought, Jiang Lan lay back on the bed. Tutu, not wanting to disturb her, led the elderly spirits to eat happily.

After a day’s work, her whole body ached, and she drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

When she woke, a pair of bright red eyes stared at her without blinking, as if about to take flight.

"Sweetheart, why are you still crying?"

"Waah…"

Why was the crying getting worse?

Jiang Lan propped herself up against the wall, gathered Ming-ge’er into her arms, and gently patted the sobbing child. "Ming-ge’er, don’t cry, don’t cry. Uncle is right here, safe and sound. Nothing will happen, don’t worry."