The entire street in front of the examination compound fell silent—not even the sound of the wind snapping against the long banners remained.
Then came a chorus of gasps and whispered speculation.
Some of the common people, their faces blank with confusion, began asking one another:
“Which prefecture or county is this Xu Zijin from? Why have we never heard of him? How did he manage to crush Gu Cuimo of the Gu clan and push him below his own name?”
That was the astonishment of those who knew nothing of the matter.
But at the very front of the barricade, among the self-important students of the Imperial Academy and the scions of the capital’s great houses, the atmosphere was entirely different.
They were too stunned even to ask questions.
Several students dressed in silk went pale. Some even staggered back half a step on trembling legs.
Liu Wenyuan of the Hedong Liu clan stared at those three characters.
Only last night, at the East City Guildhall, he had been drinking and composing poetry with several other young men from prominent families, ridiculing that madman who dared claim that “principle lies within the affairs of the world.” They had all been certain he would fail the examination.
Now those three imposing characters hung within the most prominent red frame on the list, ranked above Gu Cuimo.
That scrap of paper he had seen discarded in the street, the one wrapped around a packet of spiced melon seeds—and that line, “Even ordinary men and women can know and practice it”—had been flung directly into the face of the family learning and scholarly tradition he was so proud of.
Liu Wenyuan’s face flushed red from his neck to the crown of his head. Fury destroyed every trace of his cultivated composure.
He strode forward two steps, pointed at the vermilion gates, and sprayed spittle as he shouted.
“Have the examiners lost their minds?”
“How can such a heretic, who disrespects the sages and scorns the teachings handed down through the great scholarly lineages, possibly rank as the second-place laureate?”
Liu Wenyuan had completely abandoned the dignity expected of a young master. He roared in the middle of the street.
“That madman dares call for the abandonment of the Confucian classics, shaking the foundations of the state! He uses vulgar tales from the streets and villages to slander heavenly principle. He is desecrating the very backbone of every scholar under Heaven! The Court of Judicial Review should arrest him at once. Yan Yuan is plotting rebellion!”
Several scholars from families allied with the Liu family came to their senses and immediately joined the uproar, waving their arms as they shouted.
“Strip him of his scholarly honors! How can such demonic doctrines be allowed into the world of letters?”
“Such heretical filth can make the list? I refuse to accept it!”
Faced with such a display, students from humble backgrounds—who ordinarily would never dare invite trouble—could only lower their heads and remain silent.
But today was different.
Not far from Liu Wenyuan stood more than a dozen impoverished scholars in worn cloth robes.
Among them was Li Ke, a student from the lowest division of the Imperial Academy.
A few days earlier, Grand Libationer Zheng Bo'an had punished Li Ke by ordering him to copy On Distinguishing Falsehoods. He had spent nearly the entire night without sleep.
He had read the leaked Treatise on the Great Void Being Qi again and again, thirty times in all.
Since last night, he had been wrestling with a single question: If even the source of those words could not be traced, would men from humble families forever be denied a path to advancement?
Now, seeing Young Master Xu standing high on the list as the second-place laureate, the fire that had been suppressed within him for years burst straight through the crown of his head.
Li Ke took a single step and charged directly in front of Liu Wenyuan.
“Shut your mouth!”
His voice was thunderous.
“Are the subtle meanings of the sages built from the gold, silver, jade, and fine ornaments of great clans like yours? Young Master Xu’s words—that principle lies within the affairs of the world—have laid bare the true workings of Heaven and earth!”
He turned and swept his gaze across the stunned scholars from out of town, then pointed fiercely at Liu Wenyuan.
“He exposed the hypocrisy of you great clans monopolizing power! This second-place honor belongs to him! More than that, it belongs to the tens of thousands of impoverished scholars across Great Qian, to every poor student crushed beneath the feet of the great families and struggling just to breathe!”
Enraged, Liu Wenyuan reached out to shove Li Ke by the shoulder.
“What are you, that you dare speak here on matters of the orthodox tradition and the imperial examinations when you cannot even understand the true teachings?”
“Don’t touch him!”
A furious roar exploded from somewhere in the crowd.
A laborer from the southern district, still holding an empty bowl of noodles, forced his way through the people. His face was fierce as he swatted Liu Wenyuan’s hand aside.
The laborer did not understand the Great Void or the gathering and dispersing of qi, but he clung to what he believed was common sense.
“I work my guts out at the docks just to afford a bowl of noodles, and I still have to put up with abuse. Why is it that when that young master surnamed Xu says there’s principle in a butcher slaughtering pigs, you silk-wearing bastards start cursing him? I say he’s absolutely right!”
The laborer pointed at Liu Wenyuan.
“He placed second. That was the court’s own decision. And here you are insulting the examiners—I say you’re the ones plotting rebellion!”
Not far away, the butcher-shop owner who had bet all his money on Xu Zijin, the old flower-selling woman, and several idlers who had lost their wagers in a frenzy all rushed over as well. They clenched their fists and shouted their support.
“Exactly! Even people like us who never studied know that principle is found in the rice bowl!”
“Young Master Xu spoke up for people like us! He deserves to be the second-place laureate!”
The impoverished scholars and common people merged into one mass. The young scions of the scholarly world had never encountered such a fearless onslaught. They were forced back again and again, though their curses only grew harsher.
“Crude and vulgar nonsense! How dare street rabble insult the dignity of learning!”
“You fossilized old parasites! What do you know of the transformations of the world?”
The crowd surged. Shoving escalated into violence.
Half of Liu Wenyuan’s sleeve was torn. Beside him, consumed by rage, Li Ke charged forward and slammed into him.
“Everyone back! All of you, back!”
The flag officer guarding the barricade was drenched in sweat. With a metallic clang, he drew the long saber from his waist.
The blade reflected a chilling gleam in the morning light.
Dozens of soldiers leveled their spears at once, the spearheads pointing directly at the rioting crowd.
A stampede and bloodshed were only a hair’s breadth away.
At that critical moment, Xu Zijin called out loudly:
“Wait!”
An idler standing at the very edge of the crowd glanced back. The curse on his lips abruptly caught in his throat.
He instinctively stepped aside.
Several people beside him followed his gaze. They, too, fell silent and moved aside without realizing it.
Just like that, a broad passage quietly opened through the packed street as the crowd parted on both sides.
At the far end of the passage, the first rays of dawn had just cleared the rooftops.
Xu Zijin walked toward them at an unhurried pace.
He wore that fine cotton robe, and his bone structure and figure were exceptionally striking.
His features were breathtakingly beautiful. Beneath his cool, immaculate appearance now lingered an inexplicable air of compassion for all living things.
Yet deep within his carefully restrained exterior, he made no effort to hide a trace of disdain—as though every rule under Heaven were beneath his notice.
The perfect fusion of refined elegance and reckless defiance made it impossible to look away.
The impoverished scholars on either side watched him. The common people watched him.
Even Liu Wenyuan and the assembled scions of the great families, who had been shouting the loudest, all turned to look at him.
Liu Wenyuan opened and closed his mouth.
He wanted to hurl all the insults he had just spat at the heretical filth straight at the man himself.
But the calm indifference Young Master Xu radiated—his contempt for fame and rank, his disregard for the powerful—made the spectacle of everyone else fighting tooth and nail over a place on the list and a scrap of scholarly orthodoxy look utterly ridiculous.
Amid their jealousy, the young men of the great families felt an indescribable tremor. None dared meet Xu Zijin’s eyes.
Xu Zijin did not look at a single one of them.
He followed the passage to the tall screen wall.
He lifted his head and casually swept his gaze over the glaring black characters on the red-bordered list.
Of course, passing the provincial examination did not send him into ecstatic delirium, nor did coming second bring any aggrieved resentment to his face.
He came to a stop.
Then he turned around to face the tens of thousands of people filling the street, each wearing a different expression.
With his long fingers interlaced, he gave a proper cupped-fist salute.
“There's no need for further discussion.”
Xu Zijin's tone was calm, without the slightest ripple of emotion.
“This was only the autumn examination, after all.”
The moment those words were spoken, the breaths of the ten thousand people lining the street collectively caught.
How arrogant! Arrogant to the extreme!
Li Ke clenched both fists, his nails digging into his flesh as the hot blood in his chest boiled over.
Liu Wenyuan's face had turned deathly gray.
But the immense shock did not linger in everyone's minds for long.
All of a sudden, an even more terrifying thought surged into their hearts.
Even Xu Zijin had only come in second.
Then…
Who, exactly, was the first-place candidate whom Yan Yuan had named at the very center—who had taken the top spot all by himself?
Everyone turned as one toward the examination hall.
At that moment, the clerk holding a wolf-hair brush was trembling violently.
The scene earlier had been far too frightening… He had no desire to be dragged into this mess. I’m only a minor nobody responsible for copying things down!
He sighed inwardly and dipped the vermilion imperial brush into the ink once more.
The brush rose.
Then fell.
