Chapter 266: Probing

Chapter 266: Probing

Zhao Yuanliang: "..."

The teacup in his hand froze mid-air, and for a moment he was at a loss for how to respond.

This Lord Censor's leaps of thought caught him off guard.

As if oblivious to his awkwardness, Cheng Ge sighed to himself, rubbed his temples, and his voice grew even feebler.

"To be honest with you, Lord Zhao, I had a doctor look at me today. He said it's accumulated exhaustion, my foundation is depleted. Prescribed a lot of medicinal decoctions. Ah, every medicine has its side effects, after all."

He paused, putting on a pitiful expression, and turned his head aside to cough a few times.

"The doctor said... these tonic herbs only treat the symptoms, not the root cause. I need to nurse myself back slowly with nourishing food.

For daily meals, it's best to supplement with some restorative ingredients..."

With that, he shot a meaningful glance at Zhao Yuanliang and continued, as if mentioning it casually.

"For instance, ginseng, deer antler, cordyceps... Ah, all precious items. With my salary..."

Zhao Yuanliang's internal alarm bells immediately rang, his mind racing.

What did this Lord Censor mean?

Why suddenly bring up these expensive herbs? First pleading poverty, then naming rare tonic treasures?

After pondering for a while, a thought struck him: could his earlier complaints about poverty and hints for teaware all be a setup?

Was the real goal to hint that they should offer silver or directly send these costly medicinal ingredients?

Hadn't censors from the imperial court always prided themselves on their incorruptibility, boasting of clean hands, and firmly refusing close dealings with local officials?

How was this Lord Cheng so different from the typical image of a censor?

His words and actions exuded a... insatiably greedy, mercenary air?

Could this be yet another form of test? Deliberately acting greedy to lure them into a trap?

Zhao Yuanliang was uncertain for a while, hesitating inwardly.

Finally, he replied cautiously, "Lord Censor has worn himself out with official duties. This humble official and the others find it truly distressing.

As it happens, I have a ginseng root at home, a gift from a traveling merchant friend.

Though not particularly aged—about ten years—it's fairly decent in quality.

If you don't find it beneath you, my lord, I'll have someone deliver it shortly to help nourish your health."

He fixed his gaze on Cheng Ge's reaction, hoping to glean some clue.

To his surprise, Cheng Ge simply sipped his tea slowly, cheeks slightly flushed with affected shyness.

"Oh, how could I put you to such expense, Lord Zhao?"

Zhao Yuanliang: "..." So he just accepted it? No customary polite refusal?

In the ensuing conversation, Cheng Ge harped on the word "poverty" in every way.

He creatively complained about the huge expenses of serving in the capital, meager salary, and the difficulties of maintaining social connections, making Zhao Yuanliang's skin crawl.

Finally, under Cheng Ge's knowing gaze, Zhao Yuanliang reluctantly "lent" the few dozen taels of silver notes he carried, barely managing to extricate himself from the Censorate.

That evening, in the secret chamber of the Zhao mansion, candlelight flickered.

Zhao Yuanliang gathered with Zhou Wenyuan and a few other core officials.

Zhou Wenyuan spoke first, his expression grave: "Yuanliang, when you met that Censor today, did you notice anything amiss?"

Zhao Yuanliang pondered a moment, then shook his head: "On the surface, nothing unusual—still that half-dead look, as though truly ill."

He paused, a strange, hard-to-describe expression on his face. "And..."

"And what? Speak freely." Zhou Wenyuan set down his teacup, becoming serious.

Zhao Yuanliang carefully chose his words: "Moreover, this Lord Censor seems... seems particularly fond of wealth.

During our conversation, he kept bringing up money and expenses. First hinting at teaware, then naming tonic herbs, and finally 'borrowing' all the silver notes I had on me."

All present: "..." An eerie silence fell over the room.

As if on cue, everyone remembered the collective "borrowing" they had endured at Cheng Ge's hands after the welcome banquet.

Another official stroked his beard, a glint of shrewdness in his eyes.

"If... this Censor truly is avaricious, that actually makes things easier.

The real worry would be an incorruptible official. If he's greedy, perhaps we can even... put him to use."

But someone else remained cautious, frowning: "Could it be a smokescreen? Feigning this manner to lower our guard?"

Zhao Yuanliang chimed in: "I had that suspicion at first. But today I sent him a ten-year-old ginseng root. My informant outside the Censorate reported that he had it stewed with chicken soup that very evening, without any hesitation or inspection. If it were a test, that would be far too... straightforward."

Silence again. This behavior indeed didn't match that of a typical censor.

Zhou Wenyuan reflected for a long while, his knuckles lightly tapping the table. Finally, he decided: "In that case, mere guesswork is fruitless.

Why don't we test him? If he truly is avaricious, we can win him over.

That would be a great boon for our enterprise, not a hindrance. Having a Censor speak for us in the capital would smooth many matters."

He turned to Zhao Yuanliang: "Yuanliang, find an opportunity to send another lavish gift. Observe his reaction. Remember to do it naturally, as a stone to test the waters."

...

Meanwhile, Cheng Ge was contentedly sipping ginseng chicken soup, contemplating what excuse to use for borrowing more silver next time.

"Sister Lvrou, this soup is well-made. You should have some too to nourish yourself..."

Lü Rou smiled in agreement, and while clearing the dishes, couldn't help whispering, "Master, if you keep borrowing money and accepting gifts like this, what if they truly think you're corrupt and report it to the court?"

Cheng Ge lazily leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers idly on the table.

"They won't report it; on the contrary, they'll bend over backward to cover for me.

A pure and incorruptible censor is what they fear most. A greedy censor is exactly what they want to see.

The more insatiably greedy I appear, the more they think they can control me, and the more they'll let down their guard."

Two days later, to his astonishment, Cheng Ge received an invitation to a poetry gathering featuring the "curving stream and floating cup" game.

The invitation was elegantly worded, calling it a winter scholarly assembly, inviting the city's refined gentlemen to gather at the suburban Shuyu Manor.

Purely for enjoying scenery and composing poems, it said, and earnestly hoped the Lord Censor would honor them with his presence to alleviate the solitude brought on by his illness.