The misfortunes of the two county magistrates in Ji'an Prefecture became a source of delight for many.
In the capital, at the Purple Palace Hall.
"Your Majesty, as I've said, Magistrate Ye is not one to act out of personal bias. After the Ji'an Prefecture examination papers were publicly displayed, not a single error was pointed out. Moreover, Prince Qin rightfully earned the top spot. In my opinion, those who slandered him without evidence should be severely punished."
Shen Mingwen spoke with such fervor that flecks of spittle flew from his mouth, causing Emperor Yuanyou to instinctively close his eyes, unable to bear the sight.
"You are right, Minister. We must not allow such behavior to spread unchecked in Da Qi."
The emperor couldn't help but admire Ye Shijie's methods when he recalled how the man had handled the situation. Who would have thought that this stubborn official could be so effective when dealing with serious matters?
"However, I’ve also heard that Prince Qin sent people to help Ye Shijie quell the rumors. It seems he acknowledges Ye Shijie as his teacher at heart."
Instantly, Shen Mingwen grew wary.
"That’s a separate matter, Your Majesty. Although Ye Shijie is upright in character, he can be excessively rigid. I still remember how he once coughed up blood in frustration after an argument with the prince. If he ever finds out that Guo Feng is actually Prince Qin, who knows what kind of uproar he’ll cause?"
His address for Ye Shijie had also shifted from "Magistrate Ye" to the more informal "Ye Shijie."
Emperor Yuanyou nodded, a triumphant glint flashing in his eyes. "Of course, Minister Shen, you too are an excellent teacher for Prince Qin."
Balance was necessary for proper governance.
Within five days, the emperor’s reprimanding edict reached Ji'an Prefecture.
The two county magistrates were stripped of their official hats and fled in disgrace with their families in tow.
It was said that the townspeople chased them for nearly ten miles, especially the disgraced candidates who had failed the exams. Were it not for fear of Da Qi’s laws, they might have taken matters into their own hands.
Upon hearing this, Song Yu fell into silence.
"Just by using words, he resolved the matter effortlessly?"
It seemed Ye Shijie truly had some skill.
"Father, Magistrate Ye is not inflexible. Back then, he probably wished he could have taught you more. How could a man capable of earning such renown be foolish?"
Song Shihuan pursed her lips. As the eldest son and born of the empress, she understood.
Magistrate Ye must have hoped that her father, under his guidance, would shoulder the future of Da Qi.
"Shen Qingping should learn well from Ye Shijie." Song Yu’s next words made Song Shihuan widen her eyes in surprise. Why was their tutor suddenly being brought into this?
"Every time Shen Qingping handles something, he acts like a blade—even if he kills his target, he ends up covered in blood. Look at Ye Shijie—he doesn’t get a single drop on himself."
Song Shihuan couldn’t help but twitch her lips.
"Still, this time, an unusually large number of candidates spoke up in Ye Shijie’s defense. It shows he is a rare man of integrity." Song Yu straightened his expression.
"Ye Shijie… truly lives up to being my teacher."
For the first time, Song Yu acknowledged Ye Shijie’s role in his life.
He admitted that he had learned much from the man.
......
Meanwhile, Ye Shijie had gathered all the officials involved in grading the exams and confined them within the examination hall to draft new test questions. He forbade anyone from leaving, even having meals delivered over the walls by guards using ropes.
The gates of the examination hall opened and closed, instantly heightening the tension in Ji'an Prefecture.
Earning the title of xiucai (scholar) was the first true step toward officialdom.
Yet talent was as abundant as fish in a river, and only a select few could pass the provincial exams.
In Da Qi, xiucai were exempt from kneeling before county magistrates and could not be arbitrarily punished by officials. Though they received no salary, they could open private schools and earn a living by teaching.
Thus, the provincial exams were ten times more difficult than the county and prefecture-level exams.
Time flew, and soon it was the fourth month—the day for provincial exam registration arrived.
Song Yu woke up especially early.
"Brother Guo, it seems we all had the same idea today." Zheng Fang and Ling Ming smiled when they saw Song Yu. "Better to register early and put our minds at ease."
But when the three approached the registration office, they found the street blocked a full block away by an impassable crowd.
Song Yu was stunned.
"Why are there so many people registering?"
"With so many official positions vacant in the court, even those who passed the prefecture exams in previous years must be trying their luck again," Zheng Fang said, his face paling. The number of successful candidates was fixed—the more applicants, the slimmer the chances.
Yet after a moment of shock, Song Yu rolled up his sleeves and plunged into the throng.
What did it matter if there were many applicants?
Not only would he pass this exam—he was determined to rank at the top!
Two hours later, Song Yu returned to his quarters, utterly exhausted. Before Liuxi could even help him change his clothes, Song Yu collapsed onto the bed like a starfish.
He was spent.
"Liuxi, go find out about this 'foul cell' business." Song Yu’s eyes sharpened at the term he’d heard most often during registration.
An incense stick’s time later, Liuxi returned with his report:
"Your Highness, the 'foul cell' refers to the examination cubicles right next to the latrines. About seventy or eighty candidates share one toilet. Since the exam lasts several days, and candidates must stay in their assigned cubicles the whole time… if you’re placed in a foul cell..."
Song Yu’s face twisted, his stomach churning at the thought.
"They say in past years, some candidates assigned to foul cells couldn’t endure the entire exam and had to be carried out."
Liuxi’s words sent a shiver down Song Yu’s spine.
If he were assigned a foul cell… how could he possibly focus on answering questions with that stench filling his nose?
"Prepare some sachets for me. Lots of them."
Song Yu felt as if he could already smell the foul odor. He sprang up from the bed. "Liuxi, where did you put that handful of soil from the ancestral temple I asked you to bring?"
Though puzzled, Liuxi retrieved the wooden box containing the dirt—soil he himself had dug up.
With utmost reverence, Song Yu placed the box before him, clasped his hands, and prayed:
"Ancestors, bless me. Let me avoid the foul cell this time—or at least not be placed too close to one. No, better yet, assign me the cubicle farthest from the latrines. My legs are strong—I don’t mind walking farther to relieve myself."
When Song Shihuan entered, she froze at the bizarre sight before her.
Then, Song Yu’s next words rang out crystal clear to her and Liuxi:
"And if you could assign that little bastard Song Yanzheng to the foul cell… that’d be even better."
Song Shihuan immediately set down what she was carrying and joined her father’s side.
She knew the horrors of the foul cell. Given her father’s pampered upbringing, he’d probably last no more than a day—entering the examination hall upright only to be carried out horizontally.
"Ancestors above, protect my father from the foul cell in this exam."
"And assign Song Yanzheng to the foul cell."
As she chanted, Song Shihuan silently repeated in her heart three times:
"Birds of a stink flock together, birds of a stink flock together, birds of a stink flock together."
