The weather in April had warmed slightly, but the lingering chill of early spring remained. The scholars waiting outside the examination hall, having learned from their experience in the county-level exams, were all bundled up in thick layers.
The prefectural exam was even more brutal than the county exam—only about one in ten candidates would pass. Those who succeeded would earn the right to take the final academy-level examination.
As the gates of the examination hall slowly creaked open, Song Yu couldn’t help but exhale softly.
The prefectural exam—he was ready.
Since his final ranking in the county exam had been middling at best, Song Yu was assigned a seat toward the back. Once seated, he glanced up at the high platform where Ye Shijie sat.
That old man Ye’s career had been flourishing lately. Not only had he escaped the thankless task of compiling texts, but he had also leapfrogged into the powerful position of prefect of Ji'an Prefecture.
Song Yu’s thoughts drifted, nearly losing focus—until suddenly, he felt an intense gaze fixed upon him. Looking up, he locked eyes with Ye Shijie on the platform.
Startled, Song Yu quickly lowered his head and waited obediently for the exam papers to be distributed.
A quarter of an hour later, all candidates saw the questions. The structure was the same as the county exam, but the difficulty had skyrocketed, sending chills down many spines.
Gasps echoed around him, but Song Yu remained as steady as an ancient bell.
He had long deciphered Old Man Ye’s patterns, so he had prepared for this exam as if it were the academy-level test. By treating the questions as such, everything suddenly made sense.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Song Yu picked up his brush and began writing swiftly.
......
The prefectural exam consisted of three sessions, the first of which lasted an entire day.
By the time dusk settled, the gates of the examination hall opened once more.
But the crowd outside waited for what felt like half an incense stick’s worth of time without seeing a single candidate emerge.
Just as murmurs of speculation began to spread, a tall, upright figure strode out of the hall. As he drew closer, the onlookers finally got a clear look at his face.
It wasn’t who they had been waiting for.
Only Song Shihuan, hidden in the shadows, was thrilled—her father was the first to leave the examination hall!
In grueling exams like these, a candidate’s condition upon exiting often reflected their performance.
Those carried out due to exhaustion spoke for themselves.
Those who performed poorly walked out hunched, heads hanging low.
But those who emerged upright and confident like her father? Few and far between.
As if sensing her presence, Song Yu glanced toward where Song Shihuan was hiding and flashed her a bright smile.
He was confident—this time, Old Man Ye wouldn’t have the chance to rank him last again.
"Father, eat something quickly."
Back at the residence, Song Shihuan had already ordered a meal prepared.
Song Yu first rewrote his answers and handed them to her before digging in ravenously.
As Song Shihuan read through his responses, her eyes gleamed brighter with each line.
"Father, your ranking this time will undoubtedly be among the top."
This wasn’t just raw talent—it was sheer skill.
......
By the time the remaining two sessions of the prefectural exam concluded, even the physically robust Song Yu was utterly drained.
He collapsed onto his bed, motionless.
"The academy exam isn’t until next April. You should rest for a few days—there’s no harm in waiting until the results are posted before preparing," Song Shihuan urged, her heart aching. The imperial examinations had never been easy, and for someone like her father, who had started late, the challenge was even greater.
But before Song Yu could fully relax, Liuxi came rushing in, knocking urgently on the door.
"Your Highness, trouble!"
Liuxi was drenched in sweat, panting heavily as he spoke. "Wu Li, the nephew of Madam Wu—Guo Feng’s late wife—has gathered a mob and surrounded our residence!"
"Madam Wu?"
Song Yu bolted upright. "Did they say why?"
He had faced harassment as Song Yu, but now, even as Guo Feng, he wasn’t spared?
"Wu Li claims that Guo Feng drove his aunt to hang herself, saying a man who forces his wife to suicide doesn’t deserve to take the imperial exams."
"He’s demanding justice for the Wu family, threatening to take this matter to the prefectural office if they don’t get it."
"Let them try!"
Before Song Yu could respond, Song Shihuan snapped, her voice sharp. "Anyone who dares sabotage my father’s exams will answer to me."
"Send a few discreet guards with clubs to drive them off."
Her father slept only a few hours each night, his eyes perpetually shadowed from exhaustion.
Even in the cold, he refused warmers for fear they’d interfere with his calligraphy practice.
Did they think she would let anyone ruin the fruits of his labor?
Outside, the clamor grew louder. A ruthless glint flashed in Song Yu’s eyes.
"I promised Guo Feng I’d uncover the truth behind Madam Wu’s death. Now, they’ve handed us the perfect opportunity."
"Let them make noise—the louder, the better."
Song Shihuan’s expression hardened. "The murkier the water, the easier it is to catch the big fish."
......
Wu Li fled, bruised and battered, his followers scattering in disarray.
"Was this really a good idea? If Guo Feng earns an official rank, it could benefit the Wu family too," Wu Li groaned through split lips, glaring at his companions.
"And if he rises to power, do you think he won’t discover how your family secretly sold off his wife’s dowry? Not to mention—"
Wu Li clapped a hand over the speaker’s mouth before the rest could escape.
"So what do you suggest?"
"Take it straight to the magistrate. The current prefect has no tolerance for corruption. If he hears Guo Feng drove his wife to suicide, he’ll strip him of his exam eligibility on the spot."
The speaker’s voice dripped with venom—clearly one of the men who, back in Yong'an County, had lost their exam privileges due to Song Yu’s words and Ye Shijie’s orders.
In their eyes, Guo Feng belonged in the gutter.
How dare he dream of soaring like a dragon?
The next day, Wu Li and his mob wailed outside the yamen, loudly accusing Guo Feng of being a worthless wastrel who had bullied his wife to death.
The scandal spread like wildfire through Ji'an Prefecture.
Ye Shijie stared coldly at Wu Li. "You accuse Guo Feng of driving his wife to suicide. Where is your proof?"
"Proof? A good-for-nothing like Guo Feng doesn’t need proof! I demand you revoke his exam rights!"
Ye Shijie’s face darkened at the absurdity. It was clear—this wasn’t about justice. It was about destroying Guo Feng.
Just as he was about to respond, a voice cut through the noise:
"Your Honor, grant me time to uncover the truth and prove my wife did not die by my hand. Once I do, I ask that you punish those who slander me."
Song Yu, dressed in simple cloth robes, stepped forward with an air of quiet authority that belied his attire.
Ye Shijie’s pulse quickened at the sight.
"Results are posted in seven days. I’ll give you six."
"My thanks, Your Honor."
Song Yu locked eyes with Wu Li. Six days?
Three would be enough.
Just as the commotion began to settle, Liuxi’s voice rang out from beyond the yamen gates:
"Princess Fu'an has arrived!"
