The Capital, Zichen Hall.
Shen Mingwen stood before Emperor Yuanyou, his heart trembling as he recalled the letter sent by Shen Qingping. Steeling himself, he spoke:
"Your Majesty, there is... unfortunate news."
The vermilion brush in Emperor Yuanyou’s hand paused mid-stroke. "What news? Can I choose not to hear it?"
He had a feeling whatever Shen Mingwen was about to say would sour his mood.
"It concerns... Prince Qin."
"Out with it," the Emperor demanded, urgency creeping into his voice.
"During the provincial exams, His Highness was assigned to the 'foul stall.'" Shen Mingwen’s face twisted in discomfort. Good heavens, what a mess...
"The foul stall?!"
Emperor Yuanyou’s eyes narrowed. Impossible... He had secretly prayed before the ancestral tablets multiple times. Had the ancestors abandoned him this time?
But then, a thought eased his tension slightly. "A-Huan promoted that 'Toad Palace Incense,' and that rascal just happened to use it."
Perhaps the ancestors had still granted him some mercy.
"A letter from Ji'an Prefecture says Prince Qin fell ill after the exams," Shen Mingwen added, cautiously eyeing the Emperor’s expression. "Though it claims it was due to exhaustion from overexertion."
This incident also meant Shen Mingwen still hadn’t received Song Yu’s exam papers, leaving him uneasy.
"Fell ill..."
Worry flickered visibly across Emperor Yuanyou’s face. "That boy’s been tough since childhood. He’ll be fine."
Yet, moments later, he ordered Wu Qi to dispatch two imperial physicians.
Along with a handwritten letter from the Emperor himself.
Not once did Emperor Yuanyou mention the provincial exams.
The letter raced to Ji'an Prefecture by swift horse, reaching Song Yu’s hands the day before the results were announced.
"Father... wrote to me?"
Song Yu eyed the letter skeptically. Since when did he deserve such treatment?
"His Majesty also sent two physicians, likely because he heard of your illness," Song Shihuan remarked, smiling at Song Yu’s visibly robust complexion. "Perhaps Grandfather cares more than he lets on."
"The old man would never," Song Yu muttered as he unfolded the letter.
......
"My son, remember: though the exams matter, they are not worth half as much as you."
Song Yu’s eyes widened at the words. Was he seeing things?
Since when did the old man write like this?
A grin split his face, his mood soaring—though he deliberately drawled, "Just some routine fatherly advice. Nothing unusual."
He then handed the letter to Song Shihuan, gesturing for Shen Qingping to read it as well.
Both burst into laughter after finishing.
"Your Highness, how confident are you about topping the provincial exams?"
"One hundred percent."
Song Yu radiated absolute certainty.
"When the results are announced tomorrow, His Majesty will be overjoyed. You should seize the chance to demand more rewards."
"Now that’s the spirit."
Humming a tune, Song Yu declared, "Stay here. I’m going out for a stroll with Zheng Fang and the others."
In high spirits, he couldn’t sit still.
An hour later, the trio walked the streets—Song Yu brimming with cheer, the other two uneasy.
"Brother Guo, how can you be so calm? The results come out tomorrow!" Ling Ming groaned, too nervous to eat.
"The rankings are already decided. Worrying won’t change them. Might as well enjoy ourselves."
Song Yu cheerfully dragged them along until his eyes landed on a gambling den.
......
"You—go ask what the odds are for the top candidate," Song Yu ordered a guard disguised as a servant. "We can’t be seen entering."
Wouldn’t do for people to recognize him at a gambling den once the results were out.
Fifteen minutes later, the servant returned:
"Most bets are on Zheng Fang, though other favorites aren’t far behind. As for you, Your Highness... being assigned the foul stall meant few wagered on you."
"Makes sense." Song Yu only grew more delighted. Fewer bets on him meant greater profits later!
"I also heard Ji'an’s gambling scene is tame compared to Guanzhang Prefecture’s. Their stakes are wild."
The group perked up. "How so?"
"Rumors say a candidate surnamed Lu had his family place a massive bet—more than all the other favorites combined."
"Now that’s wealth," Zheng Fang remarked, impressed.
After digesting the gossip, the group headed to a tavern.
Mid-meal, the clatter of shattering dishes erupted from the next room.
Song Yu blinked.
"Your cousin is a fool! Why insist on marrying him?" a man’s furious voice rang out.
"My cousin is the Lu Family’s sole heir. And he’s no fool—my mother said he’ll pass the exams this time!"
"If that oaf succeeds, I’ll gouge out my own eyes!"
The argument flared, then vanished.
Song Yu frowned. "The Lu Family?"
"Could it be the same Lu Family from the gambling den? What a coincidence," Ling Ming slurred, drunk and giggling.
"Coincidences like that don’t exist." Song Yu smirked. "Let’s head back."
Back in his quarters, he instructed Liuxi to investigate the neighboring diners’ identities.
Liuxi worked swiftly.
"Your Highness, it’s the Lu Family of Guanzhang."
"To think it’s real. I’ve never met someone so certain of passing. Amusing."
Song Yu dismissed it as a joke, flopping onto his bed.
"Tomorrow, I’ll be a provincial scholar."
......
Elsewhere, Ye Shijie tossed and turned.
"Are you awake, sir?"
Donning his robe, Ye Shijie opened the door to find fellow examiners outside.
"Why is no one asleep?"
"Sir, with the results out tomorrow, we’re too excited to rest."
Ye Shijie chuckled. "The candidates awaiting results should be excited. Why you?"
"Sir, we can’t sleep knowing that exam paper will be unveiled tomorrow, spreading across the entire empire!"
"Indeed. For Ji'an to produce such talent—heaven smiles upon us."
Moved by their fervor, Ye Shijie nodded.
"Truth be told, I can’t sleep either."
He gazed at the night sky, the full moon luminous and intoxicating.
As a child, he’d planted trees in poverty.
Watching saplings grow felt just like this.
The seed he’d sown two years ago had finally become a towering tree.
