Chapter 265

Chen Guanlou gave Medical Officer Mu a thumbs-up, boasting, "I delivered a batch of goods to the Marquis's eldest lord. He was very pleased and gave me half a pound of tea."

"You drink the tea the Marquis gave you like this?" Medical Officer Mu sneered, barely holding back from scolding him for wasting something precious, utterly clueless about appreciation.

"Tea is meant to be drunk," Chen Guanlou said indifferently.

Medical Officer Mu clicked his tongue twice but didn't stop talking; he poured the tea himself and savored it slowly.

Old Zhang didn't understand tea, but he felt Chen Guanlou's tea smelled far better than his usual brew—never imagining it was a gift from the Marquis. He was drinking the same tea as the Marquis.

"It's probably about the same as what they serve in the palace," he said.

Medical Officer Mu was still savoring the tea's aroma when he heard Old Zhang's remark and let out a sharp, dismissive click. "Old Zhang, today we're all basking in Chen Tou's glory. Let me tell you plainly—this tea is rare even in the palace."

Old Zhang was stunned.

"Are you saying the Emperor drinks worse tea than the Marquis?"

"Don't talk nonsense like that," Chen Guanlou quickly cut in, especially at Medical Officer Mu.

But Medical Officer Mu didn't care. "Only the three of us are here—who's going to spread it? Old Zhang, would you?"

Old Zhang snorted. "Am I crazy?"

"I wouldn't either," Medical Officer Mu set down his teacup. "To be honest, the Son of Heaven is the hardest person to please. Logically, the finest things should go to him. But fine things are scarce—if they run out and he demands them, what do you do?"

"Especially tea. In years of heavy rain versus drought, yields differ, and quality varies. The Emperor insists on the original flavor. If you can't deliver it, it's treason—death by beheading. Would you dare offer him the finest tea, if it's scarce and you can't guarantee it every year?"

"I understand," Old Zhang lifted his teacup and sipped cautiously. To drink tea better than what the Emperor drinks? He must savor it—no more gulping like before.

Chen Guanlou didn't understand tea either. He was genuinely curious. "Is it really that good?"

Medical Officer Mu snorted, disdainful of his ignorance. "This tea in your hands is a waste. When the Marquis gave it to you, didn't he tell you its name or origin?"

"No! I drank a cup in the eldest lord's study, thought it was good, mentioned it offhand, and he told his steward to send me half a pound."

"Tsk tsk…" Medical Officer Mu was both disdainful and envious. "The Marquis didn't mention its origin because he knew you'd feel burdened. Fine, I won't pry. Just know this—any nobleman who comes to your door, serve this tea, and you'll be more than worthy."

"How about I sell it to you?" Chen Guanlou's twist was ridiculous.

Medical Officer Mu choked on a cough, waving his hands and staring at him like he was an idiot. "I can't afford it."

He'd be insane to buy this tea and keep it at home—too precious to drink, yet maddening to look at. It's not like Pu'er, a black tea that grows more fragrant with age. Let it sit too long, and its flavor fades.

Better leave it to Chen Guanlou to waste—after all, it's being put to use. He could just visit Tianlaomiao every day and beg for tea. No cost, no regret. Perfect!

Chen Guanlou was disappointed. "You praised it so much, I thought you'd want it. But you won't buy it."

Medical Officer Mu chuckled. Why pay for tea when you can drink it for free?

…

After two days, the two prisoners transferred from Zhaoju to Tianlaomiao finally woke from their comas. Both wore blank, expressionless faces, utterly numb to the transfer, eyes hollow—clearly resigned. Their tongues had been cut out; they couldn't speak, making communication nearly impossible.

Still, Chen Guanlou chatted with them for a while, knowing their ears still worked.

He looked down at them and said, "I'm Chen. Everyone calls me Chen Tou. I'm in charge here. I've learned your basic situation."

"I'll be blunt: the Embroidered Uniform Guard transferred you here to keep you alive, but you're still Zhaoju prisoners—not listed in Tianlaomiao's records. I hope you cooperate with treatment and cause no trouble."

"If you really don't want to live, fine—I won't stop you. Just say the word, and I'll grant it. Don't try to kill yourself messily. Cleaning blood from the cells is a nightmare—it's the hardest stain to remove. In summer, flies swarm, and epidemics spread easily. There are over a hundred imprisoned officials and over a hundred jailers here. We can't afford carelessness. If you understand, nod. I'll take that as your agreement."

The two prisoners were dull and sluggish. Chen Guanlou thought they'd ignore him—until they slowly, reluctantly, nodded.

"Excellent!" he smiled contentedly. "From seasoned veterans, I've heard your injuries were meant as revenge. I don't care about your grudges. But if you want to send a message to your family, give enough silver, and I'll make it happen."

At these words, their reactions were swift—they both lifted their heads, staring at him. Their dead, hollow eyes suddenly flickered with life.

He knew it—people aren't trees or grass; they always want something.

Chen Guanlou signaled Xiao Jin over. "Explain our service package to these two. Fulfill any reasonable request."

With that, he left the cell.

Old Zhang had news too.

The two men were surnamed Meng—brothers, apparently connected to the Hou Fu by some distant familial tie.

"No kidding? Really related to the Marquis by some twisted kinship? Then how did they end up like this? Why didn't they just pay someone to get the Marquis to smooth things over?"

Chen Guanlou couldn't believe it. With a connection to the Marquis, how could they end up with their tongues cut and their manhood removed, utterly powerless?

"I said it was a distant relation. My apprentice is low-ranking—he can only get limited info. All I know is the Meng family was caught up in something. It seems tied to a noble family's secret. The Marquis probably can't interfere."

"Fine. At least I know their surname. I'll find out the rest myself."

Lately, the capital has been consumed by the eldest lord's command of the army, the Grand Tutor's uncertain fate, and the Crown Prince's dire situation. Noble secrets? No one's gossiping—news must be sealed.

But this didn't trouble Chen Guanlou.

Where did he live?

He lived in the alley behind the Hou Fu. His neighbors were either Hou Fu servants or members of the Chen clan.

When he got home, he asked Chunxiang's sister: "Does the Hou Fu have any Meng relatives? Recently, has any Meng family in the capital been seized?"