Xu Fu pushed open the door and entered, carrying a brazier.
He set it down beside Xu Zijin’s footstool.
Xu Zijin was sitting upright, focused on his writing. His brush never paused, and the ink that fell across the paper seemed to radiate a ruthless sharpness with every character.
Xu Fu rubbed his hands together, glanced at Xu Zijin, and said, “Young Master Xu, tomorrow is the day the examination results are posted. This old servant has made sure the charcoal fire is well stocked, and the tea room is keeping some fine early-spring Longjing warm for you.”
He straightened, his tone taking on a hint of instruction. “This old servant has seen the rules of the imperial examinations across many dynasties.”
“When the examination results are released, one must sit calmly in the main hall.”
“Which household of a man likely to pass the examination does not have its master sitting properly in the warmth of his own study? He listens as the sound of hooves draws nearer from the street, waiting for the runners to arrive with gongs and drums and present the red announcement of his success. That is decorum. That is the bearing of an official.”
“There is absolutely no reason to go stand beneath the freezing wall of the examination compound and listen for the results oneself. It would only diminish one’s status.”
Xu Zijin paused, then set down his brush.
He closed the manuscript on the desk and pushed it aside, not responding to a word Xu Fu had said.
He turned and walked to the rosewood clothes stand. Taking down a fine Jiangnan cotton robe, he draped it over his shoulders and swiftly fastened the collar.
Xu Fu stared. “Young Master, you’re…”
“I can’t stand waiting any longer. I’ll go out after all. Please inform Commandery Princess Xu.”
Xu Zijin left after calmly dropping those words behind him.
Laiwang, who had been waiting beneath the corridor outside, had been dozing. The sound of the door opening startled him awake, and he hurriedly rubbed his eyes.
“Young Master, we’re going out now?”
“Come on. We’re going to the southern district.” Xu Zijin strode toward the gates of the Xu residence.
Xu Fu remained in the room, staring at the brazier and letting out a heavy sigh.
The moment they stepped outside, they found the main street of the southern district packed with people, even noisier than it had been during the day.
Lanterns hung one after another, their light making the stone road gleam like oil.
Laiwang hunched his neck and followed behind Xu Zijin. The two of them struggled greatly as they made their way against the flow of people.
At a corner of the street, a shabby noodle stall had been set up on an empty patch of ground.
The vendor was a woman, stirring the roiling soup with a long-handled ladle.
Steam mixed with the fragrance of scallions and pork fat. Blown by the night wind, it struck the faces of passersby head-on.
Xu Zijin stopped and glanced at the froth rising in the pot.
“Madam, two bowls of hot noodles.”
He reached into his sleeve, pulled out a dozen or so copper coins, and placed them one by one in a neat row on the wooden counter.
Laiwang grew anxious. “Young Master! Tomorrow you’ll be a high-ranking official. How can you eat at this kind of low-class street stall? What if it upsets your stomach? How will you entertain people tomorrow?”
Xu Zijin ignored him and simply dragged over a long bench before sitting down.
The stall was less than half a street from the examination compound, where the crowds were thickest.
Two zhang away stood an enormous betting house.
The boy keeping the accounts was standing on a bench, shouting the odds at the top of his lungs.
“…Xu Zijin of the Xu residence guest compound, three to one! Three to one!”
When Laiwang heard that, he immediately flew into a rage and spat hard on the ground.
“Those blind, worthless scoundrels! My young master’s learning is second to none beneath heaven, and they’re only offering three to one? They must have gone blind! Just wait—tomorrow they’ll lose even the trousers they’re wearing!”
“No, no! My young master is sure to take first place!”
Xu Zijin’s expression remained impassive.
He naturally knew what was happening outside.
The more fiercely the old-school faction fought back, the more bizarre the odds became.
The vendor swiftly fished out two large bowls of noodles and placed them on the table. The broth sloshed dangerously at the rims.
Xu Zijin cupped the bowl in his hands. The searing heat traveled into his palms, driving away the chill that had seeped through his clothes.
He lowered the bowl and swallowed the noodles in his mouth.
“Perhaps second place really is the likelier outcome.” Xu Zijin gazed at the broth remaining at the bottom of the bowl, slowly shaking his head as a thoughtful look crossed his face.
Laiwang had been slurping his noodles noisily. At those words, he suddenly choked several times, his face flushing red as he looked up.
He genuinely believed that Xu Zijin was destined to take first place, and hurriedly tried to reassure him. “Don’t say such discouraging things, Young Master! Even the scholars of the Imperial College won’t be able to find fault with your essay. How could first place possibly escape you?”
Xu Zijin glanced at Laiwang and said no more. He simply lowered his head and continued eating.
…
The night was slowly consumed by the passing hours.
When the long watch drum sounded overhead, it was already the fourth watch.
A thin layer of ice had formed on the ground along the street before the examination compound.
The barricades erected to hold back the crowd were covered in a layer of white frost. They were painfully cold to the touch.
Behind the barricades stood two rows of soldiers maintaining order.
“Change shifts!”
A flag officer shouted.
The soldiers rubbed their hands together and stamped their feet as they exchanged their long spears. Their breath became clouds of white vapor in the torchlight.
Outside the barricades, beneath the tall wall, the ground was crowded with commoners dressed in ragged jackets and wrapped in old quilts.
There were elderly beggars and impoverished peddlers.
All of them had tucked their hands into their sleeves, resting their chins against their knees.
Huddled in the shadows, their shrewd eyes had already taken in every one of the sedan chairs waiting at the street corner.
Which bearers were dressed well, which sedan tops were made of fresh, new cloth—their minds kept a careful tally. They secretly guessed which wealthy patron would be the first to erupt in joy when the results were posted and scatter congratulatory coins across the street.
For the poor of Great Qian, this was probably as prosperous as life ever got…
They had endured the cold all night, and not a single person was willing to leave.
In the shadows cast by an oil lamp on the other side of the street stood several scholars wearing half-worn blue gowns.
Proud of their status, they refused to squeeze in with the laborers by the wall and instead stood in the biting wind.
A tall scholar sneezed three times in a row. Mucus ran down to his lips.
He wiped it away with his sleeve and spoke through chattering teeth.
“Brother Zhao, it’s freezing! The results won’t be posted until the Chen hour at the earliest. Shouldn’t we… shouldn’t we go home and wait for the announcement? This wind is vicious.”
The shorter scholar beside him had turned blue with cold, his teeth clacking together. “Quite right, quite right. As the Analects says, a gentleman does not stand beneath a dangerous wall. Let’s go home, light a brazier, and wait in comfort. Waiting at home for the announcement is the proper thing to do.”
The tall scholar immediately agreed. “Exactly. Let’s go.”
Though their mouths kept saying they should leave, their feet seemed nailed to the ground. Neither of them moved an inch.
Their eyes repeatedly drifted toward the vermilion gates.
Until they saw the names on the list with their own eyes, going home would only mean torment. Neither could truly bear to leave.
Suddenly, a dull thud sounded not far away.
An old licentiate with a head of white hair had finally lost the strength in his frozen legs. Unable to support himself, he collapsed onto the ground.
“Hey! Old sir!”
Several young scholars nearby hurried to help. They grabbed his arms from all sides and hoisted him up.
The old licentiate’s entire body had gone limp. His legs could no longer bear any weight, and he hung half-supported by the others, yet he desperately pointed ahead with a withered finger.
“Leave me… leave me!” His voice was hoarse beyond measure. “Watch the gates… keep your eyes on those gates! First place… look for first place!”
And at that very moment—
Clang…
The sound of a bronze gong came from the watch station at the end of the street.
The fourth watch was halfway through.
That single sound instantly shattered the stillness of the street.
The people who had been speaking in low voices, the scholars supporting one another, and the commoners crouched beneath the wall all fell silent in the same instant.
Those at the front pressed closer.
Those behind them surged forward.
The soldiers tightened their grips on their spears, watching the crowd warily.
Then—
In the silent darkness, beyond the high walls of the examination compound…
Riiip!
The sound was crisp and clean.
At once, everyone knew that a paper knife had sliced open the oil-paper wrapper.
The hubbub of the street and the soft shuffle of footsteps ceased completely.
Everyone held their breath, staring at the tightly shut vermilion gate.
