"Father, are you really not going to meet the new magistrate?"
In the study, Song Shihuan eagerly leaned forward, gazing at Song Yu, who wore a look of despair.
Song Yu forced a strained smile. "If I told you... I once made Ye Shijie so angry he spat blood, do you think he’d want to see me now?"
Song Shihuan immediately shook her head like a rattle drum.
In that case... he definitely wouldn’t.
After Song Yu gave Song Shihuan a detailed introduction to Ye Shijie, her eyes sparkled with excitement. Standing on her tiptoes like a little adult, she patted Song Yu’s shoulder reassuringly:
"Don’t worry, Father. I’ll handle Magistrate Ye."
With that, she dashed out of the study, her heart brimming with admiration. Having such an unyielding man serve as her father’s examiner was the perfect way to avoid any future doubts or criticisms.
Her mentor’s risky move was truly brilliant!
Song Shihuan and Shen Qingping, master and disciple, quickly reached an agreement, completely disregarding the fate of a certain prince.
......
County Office.
"Your humble servant, Ye Shijie, pays his respects to Her Highness, the Princess of Fu’an."
Looking at the silver-haired Ye Shijie, Song Shihuan personally stepped forward to help him up. "I’ve long heard of Magistrate Ye’s profound knowledge. Might I have the honor of receiving some guidance from you?"
Ye Shijie studied Song Shihuan, wondering how such a clever and adorable young princess could possibly be the daughter of that infuriating Prince Qin.
Truly, heaven had no eyes.
"Your Highness flatters this lowly official. If there is anything you require, you need only ask."
Ye Shijie had long heard of Song Shihuan’s reputation—not only was she the top scholar among women, but she also played the zither exquisitely. Now, seeing her devoid of any royal arrogance, his fondness for her soared.
Within three or four days, Song Shihuan had become a frequent guest at the Ye residence.
"Magistrate Ye’s calligraphy is truly exceptional!"
Nestled in Ye’s study, Song Shihuan made herself as comfortable as if she were in her own courtyard.
"Handwriting reflects the person. One’s script reveals both learning and character. Thus, I place great importance on penmanship. If something is scribbled beyond recognition—like ghostly scrawls—I won’t bother reading it a second time."
Oh ho!
This examiner certainly had his quirks.
Song Shihuan thought of Song Yu’s handwriting, and alarm bells rang in her mind.
"Your Highness’s writing has strength and elegance. Though some strokes lack vigor, with time, your mastery of calligraphy will undoubtedly surpass mine," Ye Shijie praised generously.
If not for the princess mentioning she already had a mentor, he might have... considered taking her as his final disciple.
But Song Shihuan’s smile had grown slightly strained. After staying only a short while longer, she returned to her residence.
This was bad. She had to get her father to practice his handwriting—immediately.
......
"Father!"
Her voice arrived before she did. Hearing Song Shihuan, Song Yu set down his brush, flexing his sore wrist.
When she pushed open the door, she saw the still-wet ink on the paper.
Her expression cracked for a split second.
"Father, Magistrate Ye likes neat handwriting."
"What examiner doesn’t?"
At first, Song Yu thought Song Shihuan’s remark was just casual chatter—after all, anyone with eyes preferred things that looked pleasing.
But her next words left him frozen in shock.
"Father, Magistrate Ye is different. If the handwriting is poor... he won’t even read it a second time."
"What?!"
Song Yu’s hands trembled as he stared down at his own crooked, haphazard script.
This was a disaster.
"Father, I brought you these practice sheets." Song Shihuan hastily took a stack of calligraphy models from her attendant. "At the very least, we need Magistrate Ye to actually read your exam paper, right?"
The thought of his painstakingly written answers being tossed aside after a single glance from that old man Ye Shijie lit a fire under Song Yu.
Fine, he’d endure it!
How hard could practicing handwriting be?
Just make the characters neat and square—wasn’t that all?
And so, Song Yu grumbled inwardly, cursing Ye Shijie and even Shen Qingping back in the capital, while obediently copying the models in a desperate attempt to salvage his atrocious penmanship.
"Father, I’ll visit the Ye residence again tomorrow to gather more information."
Scratch—!
Song Yu’s brush slipped, leaving a stark black streak across the paper.
Again?
He wasn’t sure his heart could take any more of Ye Shijie’s "preferences."
......
Perhaps because Ye Shijie’s scholarly reputation was revered among scholars, many sought his guidance, submitting essays in hopes of earning his critique.
Ye Residence.
Looking at the pile of papers being used as paperweights, Song Shihuan couldn’t help but twitch her lips. So this was what he meant by "won’t read a second time"—truly, the handwriting was... ghastly.
"Magnificent!"
Ye Shijie suddenly straightened, his exclamation snapping Song Shihuan to attention. After two hours of reviewing submissions, had he finally found one to his liking?
"This essay cites classics with precision, its prose unadorned yet profound. The author must be a man of great ambition." Ye Shijie glanced around. "Does the writer of this essay hold any official rank?"
"Your Honor, this man is the Second Son of the Ling Family. He’s already thirty-two." The secretary sighed. "His life has been plagued by misfortune—both parents passed away, and he spent six years in mourning, unable to take the imperial exams. Thus, he has no rank."
"Will he sit for the exams this year?" Ye Shijie, ever the admirer of talent, held the essay with reverence.
"Word is he’s settled his family affairs and will take the county-level exams in February."
Relieved, Ye Shijie nodded. "A man of such caliber should serve the people. Staying in Yong'an County would be a waste."
"Magistrate Ye, you seem to hold well-cited references in high regard?" Song Shihuan’s eyes gleamed as she smiled.
"History is a mirror for conduct. To cite classics aptly requires deep learning—no small feat." Delighted by the discovery of such talent, Ye Shijie beamed.
"Then Shihuan has learned much today."
......
"Father! Father!"
In the past, Song Yu would have smiled instinctively at the sound of Song Shihuan’s voice.
But now, hearing it only filled him with dread.
"Father, Magistrate Ye loves well-placed classical references," Song Shihuan declared fervently. "Especially in the opening—if it’s used to striking effect, it’ll win his favor."
Classical references were one thing.
But they had to be perfectly placed?
Was this a county-level exam or the palace exams?!
Yet, under Song Shihuan’s bright, expectant gaze, Song Yu couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
Fine—he’d grit his teeth and do it!
"Understood. ‘Well-placed classical references’—I’ve got it."
"I knew there was nothing my father couldn’t do!"
Song Yu nearly choked at her words.
Somehow, he felt like Shihuan had... an overly optimistic view of his abilities.
But how could he say that outright? What was he supposed to do?
