Clang!
A bell tolled from the Mingyuan Tower, its heavy sound pressing down over the noise within and beyond the examination compound.
The echo drifted into the cold mist of late autumn, and for a long while, it was not heard again.
The seven-day provincial examination was, at last, over.
The vermilion-lacquered dragon gate of the examination hall slowly creaked open.
The moment the gate cracked open, the accumulated reek of sweat, stale food, and latrine stench poured out in a single wave.
The waiting family members outside covered their noses and mouths, yet still craned their necks to peer inside.
Candidates emerged through the gate, one by one, clutching their examination baskets.
Some had bloodshot eyes, their legs wobbling as they walked.
Others collapsed the instant they crossed the threshold, and the attending guards rushed to prop them up, dragging them to sit against the wall.
One young scholar hugged his basket, muttering over and over the lines he had written.
Midway through his recitation, he suddenly burst into tears.
Xu Zijin walked out of the dragon gate, lost in the crowd.
He still wore the same faded blue cotton gown, washed nearly white, and his bamboo-woven examination basket had seen years of use.
The hem of his robe brushed against the dirty water outside the low-numbered cells, leaving dark mud stains.
After three nights without proper sleep, his eyes were shot through with red, yet his back remained straight, and his steps did not falter.
While others hastily searched for their carriages and servants, he moved unhurriedly, following the stream of people toward the long street beyond.
Both sides of the street were already crammed with servants and family members sent to pick up the candidates.
Near the windward spot stood a group of richly dressed young men.
They had drawn good seats in the examination cells, and had brought in plenty of winter clothing and ginseng slices to keep up their strength.
Though fatigue showed on their faces, they at least managed to maintain their dignity.
Cui Mingyun, draped in a fox-fur cloak, held a handkerchief perfumed with incense.
When he spotted Xu Zijin, he was startled for a moment, then smiled.
"Oh! Brother Xu can still walk out on his own?"
He deliberately raised his voice, and the young nobles beside him all turned to look.
Xu Zijin did not stop.
Cui Mingyun took a sideways step, blocking his path exactly.
His gaze swept over that dirt-splashed hem several times, and the smile on his face grew more pronounced.
"I hear that Brother Xu drew the stink-cell 'Offal' number, spending all three days beside the latrine."
"To see you come out whole and hale, I must admit I'm rather impressed."
A few candidates who had just left the compound heard the commotion and paused to watch.
Someone recognized Xu Zijin and whispered, "That's the one who was assigned to the low-number cells at entry."
Another sniffed and sighed quietly, "That place leaks wind in winter, breeds bugs in summer, and stinks to high heaven all year round."
"Being able to endure it is one thing, but writing a proper essay while there? I doubt it."
Each word fell into Cui Mingyun's ears, and he seized his chance to make a show of it!
He covered his nose with his scented handkerchief and took a half-step back.
"Brother Xu, you'd best not come too close."
"You've stayed in that low cell so long you can't smell yourself, but others can't stand it."
The men behind him burst into laughter.
One chimed in, "Perhaps Brother Xu has a unique flair—maybe his whole essay carries a touch of 'exotic fragrance.'"
"If the chief examiner catches a whiff when unsealing the paper, he might actually remember him for it."
"That would require the essay to be worthy of the examiner's eye in the first place."
After speaking, the man turned to look at Lu Huaijin.
"When it comes to essays, naturally Brother Lu's Neo-Confucian policy discourse is the most solid."
Lu Huaijin stood behind the others and did not join in.
He glanced at Xu Zijin, then quickly looked away.
At the other end of the long street, Lin Jiusi huddled inside a worn padded jacket with cotton poking out of the seams.
He listened, his face darkening, and his grip on his examination basket tightened.
But when he recognized the Cui family jade token at Cui Mingyun's waist, his feet seemed to take root.
The Cui clan of Chen Commandery had countless disciples and old connections in the court.
A poor scholar like him, whose travel money for the exam had to be scraped together from here and there, had no standing to provoke them.
Xu Zijin listened quietly to the end, his face showing no sign of anger.
He looked up at Cui Mingyun.
"Young Master Cui, are you finished?"
Cui Mingyun's smile stiffened for a moment.
"What, Brother Xu still has words of instruction for me?"
"Instruction? Hardly."
Xu Zijin switched his basket to his left hand.
"It's just one thing I don't understand, and I'd like Young Master Cui to enlighten me."
"The current affairs essay this time asked about frontier grain logistics and canal dredging."
"Young Master Cui has been talking about the low cells since the moment you stepped out—could it be that in those three days, you were too busy avoiding the smell to read the question?"
The surrounding laughter died down.
Cui Mingyun's expression shifted.
That current affairs essay was exactly what he least wanted to discuss.
He recognized every character in the prompt, but when put together, he had no idea where to begin.
He wrote two pages of vague sage-speak, then, feeling it was off, crossed out most of it.
By the time the closing drum sounded, he had still failed to write down a single truly workable solution.
Now everyone was staring at him, and even the men who had been flattering him moments earlier fell silent.
Cui Mingyun clenched his handkerchief and said coldly, "How I answered is none of your business."
"Naturally, it's not."
Xu Zijin nodded.
"When the results are posted, it will be for the examiners to judge."
Someone in the crowd couldn't help but let out a low chuckle.
Cui Mingyun whipped his head around but couldn't find who had laughed.
When he turned back, his face was already flushed red.
"A down-and-out wretch who got lucky—how dare you use exam essays to lord over me?"
"You really think that just because you've latched onto a few people, no one dares to touch you?"
Xu Zijin looked at him without replying.
That silence only made Cui Mingyun feel even more humiliated.
He suddenly raised his hand and barked at the servants waiting outside, "Get over here!"
The servants were about to step forward when a hand reached out from the side and seized Cui Mingyun's wrist.
Lu Huaijin finally spoke.
"Enough."
Cui Mingyun struggled, but couldn't break free.
"Brother Lu, why are you stopping me?"
"This brat insulted me in public, you heard him too!"
Lu Huaijin's expression was equally grim.
He still remembered clearly the conversation in the Grand Secretary's study.
Xu Zijin was now obviously a pawn the court was using to test the great clans.
If they made a move against him right now at the gates of the examination hall, and the matter escalated, no one would be able to contain the fallout.
Lu Huaijin lowered his voice.
"This is outside the Dragon Gate."
"The examiners and the patrolling censors haven't left yet. Do you want the Cui family to be hit with another impeaching memorial by tomorrow morning?"
Cui Mingyun's breath caught.
He instinctively glanced toward the examination hall entrance and indeed saw a few constables craning their necks in their direction.
"But he—"
"We'll talk about it back at the residence."
Lu Huaijin released his wrist, his tone now carrying a note of warning.
"If you don't think today has been humiliating enough, I won't stop you."
Cui Mingyun gritted his teeth, his chest heaving a few times, but in the end, he didn't call the servants again.
Lu Huaijin then turned his gaze to Xu Zijin.
Their eyes met briefly.
There was no contempt in Lu Huaijin's eyes, unlike the others—only scrutiny and a wariness buried deep.
"Brother Xu, let's end this here today."
Xu Zijin said flatly, "It wasn't I who blocked the road."
The corner of Lu Huaijin's eye twitched slightly, but he said nothing more.
He turned and walked away.
"Let's go."
Cui Mingyun stood where he was, hearing the muffled laughter around him, feeling as though every gaze was fixed on his face.
He shot Xu Zijin one final glare, then flicked his sleeve and hurried after Lu Huaijin.
The other young men from noble families exchanged glances, then followed as well.
Someone in the crowd let out a jeer.
Then a few more jeers followed.
Cui Mingyun's steps quickened.
Lin Jiusi stood at the back of the crowd, his clenched fists finally relaxing.
He looked at Xu Zijin, his lips parting slightly, as if he wanted to step forward and say something.
But Xu Zijin had already picked up his examination basket and was making his way through the crowd, walking alone down the long street.
…
In the main hall of the Count of Chengyi's residence, the floor-heating was burning warmly.
Xu Youde was leaning back in his armchair, drinking tea, the hot water at his side already refilled twice.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded from outside.
Xu Fu, the old steward, stepped quickly over the threshold, wrinkles creasing into a broad smile.
"Master, Young Master Xu is back!"
Before Xu Youde had even set down his teacup, Xu Zijin had already walked in from outside.
He had first washed off the dust and grime in the back courtyard and changed into a clean moon-white long robe.
It wasn't until he returned to the Xu residence that the exhaustion accumulated over three days finally showed on his face.
Gone was some of his usual cold sharpness, replaced by a weariness hard to conceal.
Xu Fu hurried forward and took the examination basket from his hands.
"Young Master Xu, you've worked hard."
"Hot water and a meal are all prepared. The kitchen is keeping a bowl of chicken soup warm for you. After three days in that exam cell, you need to be properly nourished."
Xu Zijin looked at the old steward's face full of concern, and the tension he'd held for days finally eased a little.
He gave a small smile.
"Thank you, Steward Xu, for your trouble."
A maid soon served hot tea.
Xu Zijin took a seat at the lower end of the hall, raised the teacup, and took a sip.
The warmth traveled down his throat into his belly, and his fingers, which had gone stiff from the cold, finally began to relax.
Xu Fu stood off to the side, beaming more and more the longer he looked.
"For the young master to come out of the examination hall safe and sound—that's the first cause for celebration."
"By this old servant's guess, the young master is sure to place high on the list this time."
Xu Zijin let out another soft laugh, but it was faint, tinged with fatigue.
"Steward Xu, the results haven't been posted yet. Isn't it a bit early to be talking about placing high?"
"The capital is full of talented men, each with their own strengths. Who would dare fix the rankings before the examiners have made their judgment?"
Xu Youde stared at him for a couple of breaths, then abruptly set his teacup down on the table.
"Modest words, is it?"
"But the look on your face—you clearly know something!"
Xu Zijin didn't argue, simply lowered his head and took another sip of tea.
Xu Youde let out a laugh at that.
"You're still hiding things in front of me, old man?"
He stroked his graying beard and glanced toward the door of the hall.
"Xu Fu, take the servants away."
"And no one is to come near this hall without my word."
Xu Fu's smile instantly drew in.
He acknowledged the order, led the maids out of the main hall, and carefully shut the doors behind him.
The room soon fell silent.
Only the warmth from the floor-heating remained, along with the occasional soft click of a teacup lid against the rim.
Xu Youde leaned forward, lowering his voice.
"Leave aside the classics commentary."
"Tell me—that essay on practical governance. How much confidence do you have in it?"
Xu Zijin didn't answer right away.
He used the lid to push aside the tea leaves floating on the surface, and thought for a moment with his eyes lowered.
"If the examiners only value elegant prose, I may not have the advantage."
He paused, his fingertips coming to a rest.
But a genuine smile crept onto his lips.
"But if they truly want someone who can get things done, my essay won't be ranked behind anyone's."
His words were not heavy, yet they carried no hesitation.
Xu Youde fixed his gaze on him, and after a moment, he too smiled.
"Now that's the truth."
"This year's sudden addition of practical policy questions wasn't meant to add another ornament to the caps of those young gentlemen who only chatter about metaphysics."
"The border garrisons are short of grain; the canal routes are silted up."
"The Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of Works have squabbled for years, each memorial more polished than the last. But when it comes to actually putting those proposals into practice, few could ever take root."
Xu Youde raised a finger and tapped lightly twice on the table.
"The Grand Secretary dared to put such a question into the provincial examinations, and His Majesty did not reject it—the message is clear enough."
"What they want to see isn't just essays."
"What they're looking for is a man bold enough to pry open the old rules."
Xu Zijin lifted his eyes.
The trace of a smile from before hadn't faded, but it had thinned somewhat.
"A man bold enough to pry things open often becomes the first target of scrutiny."
"Well said."
Xu Youde's smile slowly receded.
"So, the title of Top Scholar need not be entirely a cause for celebration."
"It could just as well be a branding iron, red-hot."
"If you can't handle it, your honor will barely have warmed your hands before it burns through your own flesh."
The room fell silent for a beat.
Xu Zijin raised his teacup.
Hearing the words "burns through your own flesh," he laughed instead.
The lingering fatigue between his brows seemed to ease, washed away by that faint smile.
"Since the Lord Count sent me into the examination hall, I hardly think it was to persuade me to let go now."
Xu Youde was startled.
A moment later, he burst into laughter.
"Good!"
"That's precisely what I've been waiting to hear."
"With that policy essay of yours, with the Grand Secretary's stance, and with His Majesty waiting for someone to break the deadlock—"
Xu Youde slapped his knee and set the light back into his eyes.
"This time, for Top Scholar, I truly cannot see anyone more fitting than you."
Xu Zijin didn't acknowledge the praise.
He simply lowered his head and blew the steam from his tea, a faint, elusive smile still lingering at the corner of his lips.
Xu Youde saw it but didn't press further.
The results had not yet been posted.
The papers in the examination hall had yet to be ranked.
And yet, certain matters were already settled in both men's minds.
As for that branding iron—who would end up holding it, and how many it would sear—
Once the list went up, it would all come to light.
