At Dingsheng Workshop, Zhang Heng anxiously rushed around seeking help. But before he could find an Array Master to replace Chen Dongpeng, the inscriptions on one of the Alchemy Furnaces had already developed a problem.
In the Alchemy Zone, a senior alchemist was fuming at a malfunctioning Alchemy Furnace.
He glared at the Array Master beside him, who was drenched in sweat, and snapped:
"Can you even do this?
Back when Old Chen was here, he'd come over with his tobacco pipe, take a couple of looks at these little problems, give the furnace a few taps, and have it fixed in no time.
You've been fiddling with it forever, and now the fire's even more unstable.
You're delaying my alchemy. Can you afford to compensate me?"
The scolded Array Master and Shopkeeper Qian could only exchange bitter smiles, their faces full of helplessness.
Only those who had dealt firsthand with the complex array patterns and Alchemy Furnace Inscriptions Chen Dongpeng had upgraded could truly appreciate how terrifying that scruffy old man was when it came to arrays.
He had practically turned decay into wonder, forcibly raising an alchemy workshop that had merely been good enough to nearly the level of a small alchemy sect's central alchemy chamber.
And his methods had been so subtle, like a gentle rain sinking into the earth, that if he hadn't left, nobody would even have realized how intricate—and fragile—the array had become.
At the same time, they were filled with confusion and shock.
How on earth had Eldest Young Master Zhang Yu persuaded such a hidden master of arrays to come to Dingsheng Workshop and work as a menial laborer "tending the fire and repairing furnaces"?
Of course, they felt even more resentment toward and cursed Zhang Heng, their new boss.
This idiotic heir to a wealthy family had, on his very first day in charge, thrown out the workshop's true treasure as if it were rubbish.
And now look at this mess. Nobody could clean it up, and they were all going to suffer for it!
In the front hall, Zhang Heng sat on pins and needles, as though he could hear complaints and jeers coming from every corner of the workshop.
He felt like a joke. Yesterday, he'd been full of ambition to surpass Zhang Yu; today, reality had slapped him hard across the face—and he'd delivered that slap himself.
Meanwhile, in Zhang Yu's cell in the Ministry of Justice Heavenly Prison...
Compared with the chaos at Dingsheng Workshop, the atmosphere here was... downright bizarre.
Zhang Yu sat cross-legged on the bed, but he wasn't cultivating.
The cultivation the system had rewarded him with had been "instilled" directly, so he didn't need to cultivate deliberately.
So, in this dim, silent Heavenly Prison, where the faint smells of mold and rust hung in the air, he felt... a little bored.
Yes, bored.
He stretched lazily and muttered, "Tsk, it's... kind of stuffy in this prison."
"If you're bored, Mr. Zhang, I—this humble one has an idea."
In the cell diagonally opposite, Heir of Prince Jing Xiao Sheng almost sprang upright the moment he heard Zhang Yu complain.
He leaned against the bars, his face wreathed in a fawning smile. There was not a trace left of yesterday's haughty heir's airs.
Ever since he'd witnessed President Du Jun treating Zhang Yu with such courtesy the day before—and seen Zhang Yu casually produce two Bodhi Pills and a pile of top-grade Pills with such extravagant flair—Xiao Sheng had completely "woken up."
What kind of fallen young master of a marquis family, or prisoner waiting to be slaughtered, was this?
This was obviously a true god with unfathomable connections.
Now, he had to curry favor with Zhang Yu. Clinging tightly to this powerful patron mattered more than anything.
So, starting yesterday afternoon, Xiao Sheng had begun his career as a "Heavenly Prison bootlicker."
He'd immediately ordered the finest banquet from the Capital City's best restaurant, Zui Xian Lou, for Zhang Yu's meals.
When Zhang Yu complained that the cell was too dark, he'd immediately had more than a dozen night pearls sent over and embedded in the walls of Zhang Yu's cell.
When Zhang Yu wanted clean bedding, he'd simply had a snow-silkworm quilt, a tribute from the Western Regions, delivered...
Now, hearing Zhang Yu say he was "bored," Xiao Sheng's spirits soared. He felt his chance to impress had come.
"If Mr. Zhang finds it dull, I'll immediately send someone to invite the Nishang Troupe.
"They're the most famous opera troupe in the Capital City. The troupe leader will come and put on a private performance for you. Just name whatever opera you want to hear."
Xiao Sheng proposed this with dancing brows, as if the Heavenly Prison were the opera stage in his own backyard.
Seeing that Zhang Yu didn't seem interested, Xiao Sheng assumed he didn't like opera and immediately changed tack:
"How about... I send someone to Zui Xian Lou and invite their most popular courtesans to come play the zither and sing for Young Master Zhang, to help pass the time?
"Or... if Young Master Zhang has some other preference, just say the word.
"As long as it's available in the Capital City, I'll find a way to get it for you."
Zhang Yu: "..."
Was this the joy of being a top-tier official's son?
Could you summon an opera troupe and courtesans whenever you wanted, even while serving time?
No wonder this guy was so carefree despite being locked up.
At the same time, Zhang Yu felt a wave of revulsion and helplessness at Xiao Sheng's sudden, almost sickening flattery.
Ever since Du Jun had shown up yesterday, the man's attitude had made a complete one-eighty. He'd gone from watching the show to licking Zhang Yu's boots. What a lightning-fast change of face.
He'd even started calling him Mr. Zhang.
"I appreciate the Heir Apparent's kindness."
Zhang Yu waved a hand, his tone even. "But an opera troupe, singers, and the like can be passed over. They're too noisy. It's better for the Heavenly Prison... to stay quiet."
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