Chapter 493: Not in Accordance with the Rules

There's a saying: the world is just a giant amateur troupe.

Chen Guanlou realized he had fallen into the trap of empiricism, assuming that smart people would always do smart things. But in truth, many foolish acts were committed by smart people, and foolish words were spoken by them too.

Take certain scholars and experts from later generations—are they not smart? Their IQ is certainly above average. Do they not understand reality? They know better than anyone else. Problems clear to ordinary people should be obvious to them too. Yet they still do astonishingly outrageous things and utter unbelievable nonsense—why?

An amateur troupe!

Your position determines your thinking.

So does high IQ or being clever even matter? It matters in daily life, but at critical moments, IQ is worthless—it all depends on which seat your ass is sitting on.

Therefore, it is entirely possible that the Prince of Zhong was poisoned—not staged by himself.

He wondered: if the Prince of Zhong died, would Xie Changling cry? That great zhuangyuan, looking so forlorn—he truly wanted to see it.

Of course, the possibility of self-inflicted poisoning is also high. Using his life as leverage to force court officials to abandon certain figures and make new choices. If handled properly, the Prince of Zhong could certainly profit from it.

He chatted with Medical Officer Mu.

Because of the risk that Jiang Tu might be poisoned, Medical Officer Mu had to remain stationed at Tianlaomiao for this period.

Of all the staff in Tianlaomiao, only Chen Guanlou and Medical Officer Mu had received proper education—this was why they often talked together; they could actually understand each other.

Life in Tianlaomiao was plain and dull—what else was there to do but talk? Keep accounts?

Bored out of my mind!

"The Prince of Zhong has been poisoned—he might follow the late Emperor any day now. You were so certain he had a strong chance of ascending the throne, but now it looks dangerous," Chen Guanlou teased.

Medical Officer Mu was irritated; though he held no official title, as a scholar he firmly supported orthodox theory and defended the faith of scholars.

"I don't even know what poison the Prince of Zhong took. If the Taiyi Academy can't cure him, I'll just offer myself. What a bunch of useless fools—so many attendants, and still the Prince gets poisoned. What are they even good for?"

"Even with a Grand Master guarding him, he still got poisoned—hmm… the mastermind behind this must be formidable," Chen Guanlou said, purely amused. He was a scholar, but he was not bound by the worldly beliefs of this life—he had his own values. More plainly put, he was merely a passerby, observing events as a spectator, without investing any emotion into them.

"Even a Grand Master won't guard the Prince every moment. It just means the mastermind is good at exploiting gaps. The Prince of Zhong's mansion must be riddled with holes, full of spies."

Medical Officer Mu was furious.

Chen Guanlou calmed him down: "There may not even be a mastermind—what if it's the thief crying 'thief!'?"

"Nonsense!" Medical Officer Mu snapped. "The Prince of Zhong would never do such a thing—he is upright and virtuous. Someone else must have poisoned him."

Chen Guanlou: …

Still, he pretended to understand.

As they talked, the gatekeeper reported that a certain Official Zhao had come to visit.

Chen Guanlou froze for a moment, then snapped to attention: "Is it Official Zhao Mingqiao? Quickly, show him in."

He couldn't believe it—why would Zhao Mingqiao, of all people, come to Tianlaomiao now? He wasn't in the palace. Jiang Tu was already a fish on the chopping block—no one needed to care. Once the new Emperor ascended, plenty would rush to deal with Jiang Tu.

Indeed, it was Zhao Mingqiao.

He seemed to have come in haste.

Chen Guanlou ushered him into the office and served him fine tea: "Why has Official Zhao come to Tianlaomiao? To visit those wild scholars?"

Zhao Mingqiao shook his head: "I came today to see Jiang Tu."

Of course.

"I don't understand why you want to see Jiang Tu. You're not an official of the Three Judicial Departments, nor a relative of the Jiang family. Your visit violates protocol," Chen Guanlou feigned reluctance.

Zhao Mingqiao said plainly: "I have urgent business—I must question Jiang Tu face to face. I beg you, Brother Chen, to grant me this favor."

Chen Guanlou lifted his teacup, pretending to ponder: "Honestly, I can't trust you to meet Jiang Tu. You have a history."

Zhao Mingqiao's expression shifted slightly, then he declared firmly: "Rest assured—I won't harm Jiang Tu. I'll speak to him through the prison bars. But our conversation must remain private."

"That's even worse. Jiang Tu is a royal prisoner. Orders are clear: he must be guarded tightly, no accidents allowed."

"Then what do you suggest? You're strong—why not stand guard outside? If I try anything, you'll spot it immediately." Zhao Mingqiao proposed a compromise—he clearly wouldn't leave without his goal.

Chen Guanlou set down his teacup and slowly shook his head: "I don't know why you insist on seeing Jiang Tu. Without official documents, you're clearly here as a private individual. I beg your pardon, Official Zhao—I simply can't find any reason to turn a blind eye."

"Do I really have no credibility in your eyes, Brother Chen?"

"I've heard of your exploits, Official Zhao. You do unexpected things, take risks others dare not—bold to the point of audacity, yet admirable. Precisely because of that, I can't let you meet Jiang Tu alone. You always take extreme paths, violating my rules, inviting trouble. In Tianlaomiao, only by following rules can you survive long. If you were me, would you let someone who thrives on extremes meet a key prisoner alone?"

"You absolutely require a third party present before I can see Jiang Tu?" Zhao Mingqiao grew impatient.

"A third party isn't enough—even fourth and fifth parties are needed. The more people, the better. I beg you, Official Zhao, to understand my position—I dare not risk even the slightest slip."

Zhao Mingqiao's face turned livid. He paced the office, then sighed: "Fine—let me write a letter. Have it delivered to Jiang Tu. Ask him to reply. I won't meet him—I'll wait here for his answer."

"Agreed."

No need to push him too far.

Zhao Mingqiao was the type to take extreme paths—he had forced Prime Minister Li Liangcheng to yield. His mind was sharp. Chen Guanlou had no desire to oppose him; if he could help without trouble, he would.

Using the office's writing tools, Zhao Mingqiao picked up his brush.

Chen Guanlou turned his back, gazing out the window.

In February, the capital offered no beauty—everything was bare and barren, a desolate scene. With the court in chaos, unable to choose an emperor even after so many days, it felt like the end of a dynasty.