Chen Guanlou turned his house upside down and scraped together ten taels of silver to buy a gift.
With little money to spare, the gift had to be large; the larger, the more respectable. He bought two air-dried chickens and two air-dried ducks. Worried the recipient might find them lacking, he added two blocks of cured meat and a small pouch of silver before heading to the home of Steward Liu, located in the back alley of the Pingjiang Marquis Mansion.
Arriving at the Liu residence, he couldn't help but be impressed. What an imposing house, with two whole courtyards. A mere steward from the Marquis Mansion was living in a grand residence fit for a lord. Truly incredible.
The Marquis Mansion was wealthy indeed!
He climbed the three steps, lifted the bronze ring on the main gate, and knocked three times.
A moment later, the side door next to the main gate opened. A young gatekeeper poked his head out. Seeing an unfamiliar face in shabby clothes, the gatekeeper immediately looked down his nose at him.
Chen Guanlou hurried forward, forcing a smile. "Excuse me, little brother. Could you please inform Steward Liu that Chen Guanlou, the son of Chen Chengzong from East Alley, is here to see him?"
With that, he took out a few copper coins from his pocket and, somewhat awkwardly, slipped them into the young gatekeeper's hand.
Ten copper coins. Chen Guanlou’s heart ached at the expense. Fortunately, his face betrayed nothing, and his hand remained steady, projecting an air of generosity.
The gatekeeper accepted the money, and his attitude shifted instantly. A smile appeared on his face. "Wait here."
With a slam, the side door shut.
Chen Guanlou…
He had no choice but to stand before the gate and wait patiently.
The family of the Pingjiang Marquis Mansion was named Chen, and so was Chen Guanlou; they descended from the same ancestor. Unfortunately, Chen Guanlou had been born too late to see the good times. By his father's generation, their branch of the family was already beyond the five degrees of mourning, making them distant relatives. In the past, they might have seen the main family during ancestral rites, but now, they were no longer even qualified to attend. The Marquis Mansion had long ceased to acknowledge these distant kin.
To call them relatives was merely a polite fiction.
A descendant of the first Marquis of Pingjiang was now worse off than a servant in the mansion. When trouble arose, he had to go begging to a steward, carefully preparing gifts and fearing they wouldn't be enough to secure his help.
Chen Guanlou's family had fallen on hard times back in his grandfather's generation, becoming nothing more than impoverished gentry. Out of desperation, they took up a so-called "lowly profession," securing a post in the Tian Prison.
It was a fine job, passed from father to son, and from son to grandson. A proper hereditary system, an iron rice bowl that couldn't be more secure, with guaranteed safety. As long as one didn't mind the low status and the disdain of others, one could work there until old age and death.
Dying on the job was just a matter of bad luck.
Chen Guanlou's father was one of the unlucky ones. He died in the line of duty when Chen Guanlou was ten. The following year, his mother passed away from grief. He was raised by his older sister. A few years ago, his sister married, and he, the burdensome brother-in-law, had caused her to suffer much silent indignation from her in-laws.
Now, at eighteen, Chen Guanlou had reached the age to inherit his father's position. As a grown man, he couldn't keep living off his sister and brother-in-law. He had to stand on his own two feet.
For the first eighteen years of his life, Chen Guanlou had been aimless. Influenced by the prevailing social attitudes and the words of others, he had always resisted inheriting his father's profession, repeatedly calling it a lowly trade. His resistance had made his sister weep in secret many times.
Until two months ago. He suddenly awakened the memories of his past life. In his previous life, he had lived in the modern world, where the concept of a "lowly" profession didn't exist. It was a stable government job—only a fool would refuse it.
More importantly, when his past-life memories awakened, the Longevity Dao Fruit in his sea of consciousness revived along with them. He had obtained longevity—a long life, not true immortality.
The Great Xia Dynasty was founded on martial prowess, and warriors were held in the highest esteem. From a young age, people were tested for a Martial Vein. Those born with one could practice martial arts. With some accomplishment, one could become a 1st Rank Martial Artist, then 2nd, 3rd, and so on, all the way to 9th Rank. Above the 9th Rank, it was said, were Grandmasters. Anything beyond that was too mysterious for the common folk to know.
Becoming a martial artist granted one status and position, placing them high above ordinary people. As a result, violence was rampant in the streets. Without some means of self-defense, one could be killed at any moment.
Chen Guanlou had no Martial Vein, a fact he refused to accept. He possessed longevity, something even the Emperor himself desperately sought but could not obtain. As someone with memories of a past life, he was practically a chosen one. It made no sense that he couldn't practice martial arts and become a warrior.
It was too late to study Confucianism, enter Jixia Academy, and become a scholar-warrior. He had neither the talent nor the money for it. Studying cost money—a lot of money.
Where in this world could one learn all the martial arts under heaven without spending a fortune?
After long and hard consideration, only one place came to mind: the Tian Prison. The people locked up in there were all "talented individuals." They "spoke so nicely" and were "ever so interesting."
Therefore, he had to inherit his father's post and work in the Tian Prison.
Two months ago, he had submitted his application to take over the position, but it vanished without a trace. A few days ago, his brother-in-law, unable to refuse his sister's pleading, pulled some strings to ask around. Only then did he learn that the vacancy left by his father had long been filled by someone who had paid for it. One post, one person; there was no room for him now. The message was clear: he was expected to be sensible and find another line of work.
Chen Guanlou was furious!
They thought a few words were enough to make him give up the Tian Prison job, to abandon his chance of becoming a martial artist? In their dreams.
And so, he thought of the Pingjiang Marquis Mansion. Since they shared a common ancestor, it was only right for him to seek their help now that he was in trouble.
The main family of the mansion would certainly look down on an impoverished relative like him; he wouldn't even get a chance to meet them. He wouldn't waste his energy or money on that. Instead, he decisively settled for the next best thing: using Steward Liu's connections.
Steward Liu was the second-in-command among the mansion's stewards. As the saying goes, a prime minister's doorman is like a 7th-rank official; a steward of a Marquis Mansion was an imposing figure indeed. A mere post in the Tian Prison was a trivial matter for him, something that could be settled with a single word.
For that single word, Chen Guanlou was willing to bow and scrape, to act like a spineless grandson. As long as he could get into the Tian Prison, he would do whatever it took. In his past life, he had been a professional in the workplace, already well-tempered by its trials. He had thick skin, but no face left to save. It was just about making a living, after all. Nothing shameful about it!
In this day and age, money is hard to come by, and life is a real bitch.
He was already prepared to be given a hard time, to be humiliated, and to face the most awkward of situations.
He didn't have to wait long. The side door opened again, and the same young gatekeeper appeared. "The mistress will see you."
"Thank you, little brother!"
Chen Guanlou let out a long sigh of relief. He had finally made it into the Liu Family's home. Hearing the gatekeeper refer to Steward Liu's wife as "Mistress," he couldn't help but marvel inwardly. What airs! The wife of a mere steward daring to be called Mistress. But then he reconsidered. Steward Liu was apparently a 2nd Rank Martial Artist. For the wife of a 2nd Rank Martial Artist to be called Mistress wasn't excessive at all; it was fitting.
Entering the Liu residence, he passed through the ceremonial gate and a covered corridor. The sight before him was dazzling: rockeries, ornamental stones, and valuable flowers and trees. What opulence.
What a life this steward of the Marquis Mansion led. Chen Guanlou was truly envious. It was a world away from his own impoverished existence.
No wonder some of the good-for-nothing descendants of the Marquis Mansion called Steward Liu "Lord Liu" or even "Grandfather Liu." A servant, lording it over the descendants of his own masters. If the old ancestors of the Chen family knew about this, he wondered if their coffin lids would fly right off.
Proofreader: Peter Pan