Chapter 641: Tea Leaves

Yang Shu’s business was by no means limited to just the Imperial Merchant “Tea” venture. In the Imperial City, he directly or indirectly controlled no fewer than fifty shops of all sizes. If not for the relentless protests of the Advisors, Yang Shu could have monopolized a third of all establishments in the Imperial City.

Furthermore, the main focus of the Imperial Merchant “Tea” was the tea trade, so the finest, most upscale teahouse in the city was his property as well.

Unlike others who preferred to open their teahouses on Junhou Street, catering to ranking officials and nobles after court, Yang Shu’s teahouse was set in a secluded corner of the southern city, shielded from the bustling streets by a dense bamboo grove. Within, bamboo pavilions and cottages nestled together, accompanied by a Concealing Array to guarantee each guest’s privacy and tranquility.

The teahouse bore a single name: Bu’er.

The southern regions of the Jingjiu Dynasty produced tea, and no small number of famed varieties, but the rarest and most precious tea was not from the Jingjiu Dynasty at all—it hailed instead from a wild tea grove on an island known as “Tea Island” deep within the Treasure Sea, and was called: Bihai Tide.

Bihai Tide possessed a remarkably unique charm—ranked among the very finest of teas, yet endowed with an aftertaste unmatched by any other. Most importantly of all, Bihai Tide was not only a tea, but also a Middle Grade Herb suitable for refining Pills. When brewed, it had a calming effect for Cultivators, and over time, it could even enhance the sensitivity of the Soul and the resilience of the meridians.

Thus, a single tael of the stuff was worth ten taels of gold—an astonishing price that left most staring in awe. Even those who fancied themselves Upper-tier rarely caught a glimpse of this tea, let alone had the fortune to taste it.

Of course, as with all highly profitable ventures, there was a measure of spectacle involved. Though Bihai Tide was indeed a Middle Grade Herb, its actual uses were quite limited; there were only a handful of Pills in which it could be used.

Still, its flavor could not be denied. Moreover, Tea Island was small and its annual yield of Bihai Tide extremely low—twenty-some catties at most each year, of which three to five catties were set aside as tribute. How could the rest not fetch a king’s ransom?

Of all the teahouses in the Imperial City, only at Bu’er could one drink Bihai Tide. Naturally, before partaking, one needed ample coin—and even then, it depended on luck. Only with good fortune could the tea truly be savored.

However, few in the Imperial City knew that the Bu’er Teahouse belonged to Yang Shu. Though many speculated about the Imperial Merchant “Tea”, those aware that Yang Shu was in fact its real master were even fewer.

Bai Changqing was among the latter. He knew of Bu’er’s considerable reputation, had actually visited a few times, and suspected its powerful background—perhaps it was connected to the Imperial Merchant “Tea”—but remained unaware that its true owner was the Seventh Prince, Yang Shu.

Today, Bai Changqing had been invited to taste tea. His host was his former mentor—the former Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, who had retired to the countryside many years ago.

When Bai Changqing was still a local official, it was by relying on his mentor’s connections that he ascended step by step. While his own abilities were crucial, his mentor’s blessings had undeniably bestowed immense favor upon him.

Fortunately, his mentor himself possessed a degree of Cultivation. Even now, at ninety-five years of age, his health remained good. Each year, Bai Changqing personally paid his respects and listened to the man’s teachings—though seldom was he summoned by his mentor’s own hand.

When others invited Bai Changqing, he could politely refuse—citing his ties to the Gu Family, or letting others believe he was “henpecked.” This had long served as his shield; he’d even deflected invites from Ye Lansheng in this manner. Yet his mentor’s summons, Bai Changqing had no choice but to accept.

However, as Bai Changqing was escorted deep into the teahouse and seated in a pavilion within the bamboo grove, he realized his mentor would not be coming today. For this was said to be Bu’er’s finest “private room,” and his retired mentor could hardly possess such influence after all these years.

Unexpected, but not beyond the realm of reason. Bai Changqing was mentally prepared for such a change. People were often subject to circumstances beyond their control; perhaps his mentor also had difficulties he could not voice.

Still, Bai Changqing did not leave. Instead, he settled calmly in his seat, curious as to who had gone to such lengths to see him.

And then he noticed, on the tea table within the pavilion, a uniquely designed canister—blue in color, bearing a label with the single character “Bi” (Jade).

Bai Changqing was a tea connoisseur, learned in the art. Thus, at first glance, he instantly recognized the origins of the canister before him.

“Bihai Tide?” His words carried a tinge of delight amid the doubt—and no small measure of confusion as well.

This was no tea one could buy just because one was wealthy. The going price was a tael for ten taels of gold, but even at ten times the cost, one might not secure so much as a single leaf. There simply was too little of it. Even in his capacity as Minister, Bai Changqing had only ever tasted Bihai Tide once, at the residence of Ye Lansheng—a single spoonful, enough for a single cup.

Yet now… a full canister?

Bai Changqing could scarcely believe it. He reached for the canister and weighed it in his hand—certainly not empty. Lifting the lid, he was stunned to see it more than half full with pale blue leaves, curling like ocean waves—unmistakably Bihai Tide. Who could be so extravagant?

“I have heard that Lord Bai’s skill in the art of tea is peerless. May I have the honor of witnessing it for myself?”

Just as Bai Changqing was marveling, a voice arrived from beyond the grove, preceding the speaker himself.

Turning, Bai Changqing was even more astonished. He immediately rose, bowed deeply with cupped hands, and said, “Bai Changqing greets Your Highness Prince Ling.”

The visitor was none other than the Seventh Prince, Yang Shu himself. His Guest Elder had easily located Bai Changqing’s former mentor and, after “moving him with sincerity,” arranged for the elder to summon Bai Changqing. As for whether Bai Changqing would resent the ruse—a seasoned Minister of Revenue could hardly lack such restraint and patience. Whether things would progress further depended on Yang Shu’s skill in handling what came next.

“Heh, no need for ceremony, Lord Bai. Please—do take a seat.” Yang Shu was dressed in plain attire, yet every detail revealed his noble lineage, his bearing quite different from his usual style.

Seating himself opposite at the tea table, Yang Shu smiled, narrow-eyed, and began lighting the small brazier on the table—using fruitwood, then setting a kettle of spring water over the flame.

“Might Lord Bai favor us with a demonstration?”

Bai Changqing smiled as well and replied, “If Your Highness does not look down upon my humble art, I shall do my best.” With no further preamble, he set about the task with assurance, arranging the tea set and handling each step with a fluid grace that held its own kind of beauty. The performance of the so-called tea art had thus begun; every movement carried purpose—those who knew, appreciated it; those who did not, could only watch the spectacle.

Making his fortune with tea, Yang Shu naturally understood the craft. Watching Bai Changqing’s movements, he found the man to be every bit the seasoned tea master the rumors proclaimed.

“This is my first time preparing Bihai Tide,” Bai Changqing said, “so I am uncertain if I’ve mastered the heat. Your Highness, please do offer your guidance.”

Yang Shu nodded. Only after sipping the freshly-brewed tea did he savor it carefully, then replied, “Excellent! As I expected, your technique is exceptional…”

Yang Shu was a true connoisseur, and unlike other princes, he knew how to humble himself and flatter his subordinates—indeed, he was a master of such tactics, rarely making a misstep.

As expected, even one such as Bai Changqing could hardly resist the flattery of a prince; the reserved smile on his face soon dissolved into a more natural and relaxed expression.