"Brother Zheng, you've suffered so much these past days."
Ling Ming had also heard about Zheng Fang's troubles. With reddened eyes, he patted Zheng Fang's shoulder. "Your father is truly blind, casting aside a scholar like you."
"He and my aunt were both born as concubine's children. They've resented our grandmother since childhood, and since I lost my mother and was raised under her care, he naturally despises me." Zheng Fang forced a bitter smile. "Add to that his fondness for his nephew Zhao Ge—everything fell into place for him."
Ling Ming cursed under his breath.
"It doesn’t matter. From now on, I’ll act as if I have no father," Song Yu chimed in, speaking like a true brother. "Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll achieve greatness, earn the favor of high-ranking officials, and they’ll grant you the right to start your own family lineage—or even bestow a new surname upon you. Then the Zheng family of Qingshui County will have nothing to do with you."
"That’s right, Brother Zheng. You have your own path to glory. Don’t waste your sorrow on such worthless people."
"I’m not sorrowful." A warmth spread through Zheng Fang’s heart. "The provincial exams are approaching. Let’s hope all three of us achieve our dreams."
"Absolutely."
......
After settling into the inn, Song Yu, Zheng Fang, and Ling Ming all devoted themselves to exam preparations. Meanwhile, Song Shihuan and Shen Qingping would sneak out at night, avoiding prying eyes, to deliver food to Song Yu, who often burned the midnight oil studying.
"Father, have some pastries from Liufangzhai."
Song Shihuan carried a food box. "Preparing for the exams is truly grueling—sleeping later than dogs and rising earlier than roosters. It breaks my heart to see you like this."
Hearing this, Song Yu’s grin stretched from ear to ear. His Ahuan was always too tenderhearted toward him—sometimes it was almost a sweet nuisance.
"Your father isn’t suffering. I’m just waiting for the day I top the exams and leave everyone’s jaws on the floor."
The mere thought of proving wrong all those who dismissed him as a good-for-nothing filled Song Yu with boundless energy.
Time flew by.
By early July, Emperor Yuanyou had appointed the chief examiners for the provincial exams across the regions. Ji'an Prefecture, as before, was assigned to Ye Shijie.
Upon receiving the decree, Ye Shijie immediately summoned all the grading officials. After paying respects at the Confucius Temple, they entered the examination hall ahead of time, cutting off all external interference—just as they had during the preliminary exams.
At the same time, registration for the provincial exams officially began.
On registration day, it was customary for townsfolk to bring their young scholars-in-training to exchange stationery with the registered candidates, hoping to absorb some of their scholarly aura.
"I’ve never seen such a spectacle during previous exams," Song Yu gasped, squeezing his way out of the crowd and gulping for air.
"That’s because this time, all the registrants are scholars," Ling Ming explained calmly. "Having an official rank makes all the difference in how people treat you."
As they spoke, a child approached Song Yu.
"I know you. You ranked first in the preliminary exams. May I exchange inkstones with you?"
Looking down at the little boy who barely reached his waist, Song Yu chuckled. "Most people exchange brushes or paper. Why an inkstone?"
"An inkstone lasts a long time, Uncle. I want to be as outstanding as you one day."
Song Yu was momentarily speechless. Rarely in his life had anyone called him outstanding.
Pulling an inkstone from his bag, he handed it to the boy with both hands. "Here. If you ever top the exams like I did, bring this back to me."
The boy’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Uncle, we’ll meet again."
After Little Douding left, Zheng Fang and Ling Ming began to laugh. "That child may be young, but he has ambition."
"Ambition is good. When children have ambition, Great Qi will only grow stronger."
...
Meanwhile.
"Princess, this is Xiuniang, the most skilled perfumer in Ji'an Prefecture."
Xiuniang had never met someone of Song Shihuan's status before and was visibly nervous. "This humble woman greets the Princess."
"Xiuniang, I want to make a grand deal with you."
Song Shihuan's eyes were shadowed with dark circles, clearly weighed down by some anxiety.
"Your Highness need only command me."
"Have you heard of the foul cells in the examination hall?"
Xiuniang seemed momentarily taken aback. "This humble woman has heard... most candidates assigned to those cells cannot endure it."
"The provincial exams are approaching, lasting several days." Song Shihuan sighed deeply. "Those qualified to take them have already suffered much hardship. If they are hindered by the foul conditions and cannot perform to their true ability, I cannot bear it."
"You excel in perfumery, so I wish to ask if you have any solution."
Xiuniang pondered, her face paling. "This... no fragrance can completely mask such odors, only alleviate them. And such scents are often costly."
"What if they were made into scent beads, worn around the neck?"
Song Shihuan's suggestion left Xiuniang breathless.
She had never considered such a method!
"Your Highness's idea... this humble woman may be able to attempt it," Xiuniang mustered the courage to reply.
Song Shihuan rose slowly and approached her. "The scent must not be cloying—it should sharpen the mind, tailored for the imperial exams. The ingredients must be simple, the process swift. We must ensure every candidate in Great Qi has access before the exams."
"If you succeed, you will be renowned across the land."
The opportunity was now in Xiuniang's hands.
"This humble woman will not fail Your Highness's trust."
Xiuniang's blood burned with excitement. No one... no one could resist the allure of fame.
After Xiuniang left, Shen Qingping emerged from behind the screen.
"Princess, this will succeed."
"Why are you so certain, Teacher?"
"The temptation of renown—she is moved."
Shen Qingping smirked, recalling how the old man had once staked his head before the Emperor, vowing to safeguard the Ministry of War and Ministry of Revenue for Prince Zhao Ge during his county exams. When the Emperor dangled a third-rank official position...
He, too, had been moved.
...
Late July.
Song Yu belatedly began to fret over the foul cells again.
"What to do, what to do? When Song Yanzheng was assigned to one, he entered the examination hall standing and was carried out flat. That’s how potent those cells are."
Song Yu broke into a cold sweat. "If by misfortune I am placed in one, how will I endure?"
He paced anxiously, while Song Shihuan and Shen Qingping exchanged knowing smiles.
"Father, we have something wonderful, freshly completed yesterday. I brought it today just for you."
Song Shihuan took a wooden box from Baoxia.
Inside lay a single scent bead.
"A-Huan, what is this?" Song Yu asked, puzzled.
"I’ve named it... the Lunar Fragrance."
To shield all imperial examination candidates from the misery of foul odors, ensuring their success in achieving scholarly honors.
