Inside the main hall, the tea had already been brewed.
Qingya Academy’s way of hosting guests had always been simple.
A red sandalwood table, two Grandmaster chairs.
A pot of freshly picked Rain-Preceding Longjing.
That was all.
The mountain rain was about to come outside.
Bamboo shadows swayed uncertainly on the paper windows, making the light inside the hall flicker between brightness and shadow.
Cao Zhengchun picked up his tea cup and used the lid to gently brush away the tea leaves floating on the surface, but he was in no hurry to drink.
His gaze fell into the tea soup, as if he were examining a rare treasure, or perhaps looking at something else through the tea.
“I often drink this Rain-Preceding Longjing in the palace as well.
However, the tea in the palace is all tribute, sent from Jiangnan to the capital by express couriers traveling eight hundred li a day, with countless horses changed along the way.
Yet when it reaches the mouth, I always feel it’s missing something.”
He set down the tea cup and looked up at Lu Chenzhou across from him.
“Now that I am sitting in this academy drinking it, I finally know what was missing.
It turns out it was missing the mountain mist and the sound of the wind in the bamboo tips.
Tea, once removed from its native soil and water, is no longer the same flavor.”
Lu Chenzhou took a sip of his tea and responded calmly.
“Lord Cao is right.
The land nurtures its people, and it nurtures its tea.
The academy has nothing else to offer, but these few old tea trees on the back mountain have benefited from the mountain springs and are still palatable.
If Lord Cao likes it, I will have the students pack a few jin of new tea for you to take back to the capital.”
“Then I shall not be polite.”
Cao Zhengchun smiled slightly and finally brought the tea cup to his lips, taking a shallow sip.
After setting down the cup, his expression suddenly became much more solemn, as if he had changed faces in an instant.
“Speaking of which, the First Prince specifically entrusted me with a matter for this visit.”
Lu Chenzhou set down his cup and assumed a posture of respectful attention.
“What are His Highness the First Prince’s orders?”
“I wouldn't call them orders.”
Cao Zhengchun waved his hand, his tone becoming even softer.
“The First Prince said that Qingya Academy has provided countless pillars of the state for the court over the past century, serving the society and benefiting future generations.
Although he is in the capital and cannot visit in person, he has always kept the academy in his heart.
For this Caiqin Trial, His Highness specifically had me bring some scholar’s four jewels.
They are all Imperial-made, to be awarded to the top-performing students of this session, showing the court’s emphasis on culture and education.”
He paused, then changed the subject.
“Only... I wonder how the academy’s preparations for this Caiqin Trial are going?
Talents from across the world are gathered here; surely there must be many exceptional individuals.
What the First Prince cares about most is whether there are any talents who can catch his eye.
His Highness is currently sharing the Emperor’s burdens and is busy with a myriad of state affairs; he is precisely in need of capable people by his side.”
Lu Chenzhou’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, then smoothed out immediately.
At this point, if he continued to play dumb, it would seem intentional.
He followed the lead and asked with a normal expression.
“The First Prince’s concern for culture and education is truly a blessing for the state.
I wonder if the Emperor’s Imperial health has been well lately?
The academy is located in a remote area and is cut off from news; we have not heard from the capital for a long time.”
This question was very measured.
It was both a courtier’s concern for his sovereign and an inconspicuous probe into the true purpose of Cao Zhengchun’s visit.
Lu Chenzhou gently set his tea cup on the table, making a very faint clink of porcelain hitting wood.
Cao Zhengchun did not answer immediately.
He picked up the cup and took another sip, his gaze moving over the rim of the cup to land on Lu Chenzhou’s face, which was covered in wrinkles yet remained as steady as a mountain.
A trace of a meaningful smile flashed in those black, bright eyes, like a hunter looking at prey that had clearly scented the trap but was still pacing in place.
“Mountain Lord Lu.”
He set down the cup, his voice suddenly dropping a few notches.
“Do you truly not know, or are you playing the fool with me?”
The air in the main hall froze at that moment.
Lu Chenzhou’s finger paused on the edge of the tea cup, but his face remained a picture of confusion.
In those eyes that had seen all the vicissitudes of life, the look of bewilderment was neither too thick nor too thin, just right, as if he truly knew nothing.
“Lord Cao’s words... I really do not understand. Please enlighten me.”
Cao Zhengchun stared at him for a full three breaths.
During those three breaths, his gaze was like two invisible awls, drilling into Lu Chenzhou’s face inch by inch.
Anyone else, being stared at like this by the Seal-holding Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, would have been drenched in sweat and lost their composure long ago.
But Lu Chenzhou maintained that same faint expression, even picking up his cup to take another sip, his movements unhurried and steady as a mountain.
Cao Zhengchun suddenly laughed.
The laugh was very light, like a wisp of steam rising from the tea cup, vanishing instantly into the damp air.
“It seems Mountain Lord Lu truly doesn’t know.”
His tone carried a hint of certainty.
“Fine, since I am already here, I will inform the Mountain Lord on behalf of the Emperor.
The Emperor’s Imperial health has been poor for several months.
The Head of the Imperial Hospital privately confided in me, saying he likely won't last past this autumn.”
As he spoke these words, his gaze never left Lu Chenzhou’s face, as if he were capturing any tiny change in expression.
Lu Chenzhou’s hand holding the tea cup trembled slightly, and the tea water inside rippled in a tiny circle.
But this tremor lasted only for an instant, so fast it seemed like an illusion.
He slowly set down the cup, and when he looked up, the shock on his face was neither too much nor too little.
It was exactly the reaction an old courtier living in the mountains should have upon suddenly hearing such dire news.
“Lord Cao... is this true?” His voice was slightly raspy.
“I have served the Emperor for forty years; I never joke about such matters.”
Cao Zhengchun’s voice was calm to the point of being cold, and he then took a sip of tea to moisten his throat.
Lu Chenzhou slowly rose from his Grandmaster chair, faced the north, adjusted his clothes, and performed a deep bow.
He maintained this posture for three breaths before straightening up, tears already shimmering in his eyes.
“I am guilty. The Emperor’s Imperial health is poor, and I was actually unaware. This is truly...”
“Mountain Lord Lu, there is no need for this.”
Cao Zhengchun raised his hand in a supportive gesture, his tone returning to that warm and soft manner.
“The academy is remote; it is only natural that news is slow to arrive.”
Lu Chenzhou, however, was thinking of something else.
The news Chen Zui had given him was indeed true.
In other words, as early as two months ago, that young man already possessed palace secrets that even the officials of the Six Ministries in the capital might not know.
This favor was something he would silently remember in his heart.
Cao Zhengchun picked up his cup and brushed away the tea leaves with the lid, then suddenly let out a long sigh.
This sigh was very well-executed, sounding neither like a courtier’s grief for his lord nor an old man’s sentimentality about the world, but rather a perfect display of concern for the state and its people.
“The Emperor’s illness is one thing. What worries me most is another matter.”
He set down the cup and looked up, a layer of worry suddenly appearing in those black, bright eyes.
“The Emperor has yet to name a Crown Prince.”
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