At the end of September, the second provincial examination in Guanzhang Prefecture officially began.
For once, Song Yu found himself as an outsider, and he was so excited that he jumped around like a groundhog in a field.
"Father, why did you specially buy this house with a view of the examination hall's gate and drag us out of bed so early?"
Song Yu turned his head and saw his drowsy daughter and her master, their eyes still heavy with sleep.
"I can give you a detailed explanation of what happens to the candidates after they enter the examination hall," Song Yu said.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Let’s take Feng Kuizhi as an example."
Following Song Yu’s gaze, they spotted Feng Kuizhi carrying his bundle on his back.
"Once he steps through the gate, he’ll first draw a lot for his examination cell. Let’s assume he gets assigned to the 'stinky cell.'"
At the same time, Feng Kuizhi stared blankly at the slip in his hand—Cell B80.
While everyone’s tolerance for the stinky cell had recently increased, that didn’t mean Feng Kuizhi wanted to be assigned there.
Little did he know, this examination would be controlled by an inexplicable force.
"After being assigned to the stinky cell, he’ll need a moment to accept it. Feng Kuizhi is a smart man—once he does, he’ll follow my example and scatter fragrant herbs all over the cell to minimize the stench," Song Yu rambled on, his words mirroring Feng Kuizhi’s exact actions.
"Once he’s done with that, he’ll wait for the exam questions."
Song Yu smirked mysteriously. "With Old Man Ye setting the questions, I guarantee even someone as refined as Feng Kuizhi will curse under his breath."
Inside the stinky cell—
"Has Lord Ye gone mad?"
Feng Kuizhi stared at the exam questions, deep in thought.
He had only heard of Old Man Ye’s "reputation" before, but now he saw it firsthand—it was well-deserved.
The difficulty of these questions was several times higher than the last provincial exam!
Another wave of stench hit him, and Feng Kuizhi hurriedly pressed a scented sachet to his nose.
Heaven above, please grant him the chance to perform normally this time.
......
"So, Father, do you think Feng Kuizhi can endure till the end?"
Song Shihuan’s drowsiness had completely faded, replaced by keen interest.
Listening to her father’s stories about the examination hall was truly fascinating—though she wondered if Feng Kuizhi had really been assigned to the stinky cell.
If he had...
A faint smile curled at Song Shihuan’s lips. The blame lay entirely with her father.
"Of course he can. He’ll push through with sheer willpower," Song Yu said, shamelessly praising himself. "Just like I did back then."
"And Old Man Ye dislikes candidates who submit their papers early—he thinks it’s reckless. So Feng Kuizhi is in for the most grueling days of his life."
Song Yu clicked his tongue and shook his head, as if already picturing Feng Kuizhi’s suffering.
"So that’s why you fell ill after leaving the examination hall?"
"Exactly."
A few days later, the provincial exam ended, and the gates of the examination hall reopened. The three of them perched on the wall of their residence, watching the candidates emerge.
"Feng Kuizhi hasn’t come out yet."
"Could Father’s predictions have all come true?"
"Isn’t the prince’s foresight a little too uncanny?"
Faced with Song Shihuan and Shen Qingping’s skepticism, Song Yu didn’t rush to defend himself. His eyes remained fixed on the examination hall.
Half an incense stick later—
A haggard Feng Kuizhi stumbled out of the hall, looking as though he had endured inhuman torment.
"Young master..." The Feng family servant was horrified at the sight.
"I... I was in the stinky cell. Take me home, quickly."
In an instant, news of Feng Kuizhi’s misfortune spread.
"He really got the stinky cell?" Song Yu feigned innocence.
He had merely spoken offhandedly—who knew it would actually come true?
"Father, you’ve truly played the role of a 'living bodhisattva' this time."
......
"Yue Qing, go check on Feng Kuizhi for me."
Song Shihuan looked at Yue Qing and continued, "Since Feng Kuizhi hasn’t passed the provincial exam yet, it wouldn’t be proper for me to send someone directly. You have a connection with him and know some medicine—you’re the best choice."
Song Shihuan was plagued by guilt, convinced that Feng Kuizhi’s misery was entirely due to her father’s words.
"This commoner will go at once."
Understanding the situation, Yue Qing took a few modest gifts and knocked on the Feng family’s door.
"Miss Yue, my wife and I have heard Kuizhi mention you. Please forgive us for not having him greet you—he’s unwell."
Beneath Master Feng’s kindly expression was unmistakable worry.
"Young Master Feng once helped me. Hearing of his illness, I felt I should visit. These are just small tokens." Yue Qing handed over the gifts. "I... know a bit of medicine. Would it be all right if I..."
"Of course, of course."
Seeing that the Feng elders showed no disdain for her profession as a coroner, the usual chill in Yue Qing’s eyes softened slightly.
Entering Feng Kuizhi’s room, Yue Qing saw his deathly pale face.
Steadying herself, she stepped forward to check his pulse.
"Master Feng, Madam Feng, your son’s condition is due to extreme exhaustion from overexertion. A few days of rest will restore him fully."
In short, it was the same ailment that had afflicted the prince back then.
"By the time the exam results are posted, Young Master Feng will be well enough to see them in person."
Reassured by Yue Qing’s diagnosis—identical to the physician’s—the Feng elders finally relaxed.
Just as Yue Qing was about to withdraw her hand, Feng Kuizhi suddenly grabbed it. Unlike last time, when he had gripped her sleeve-covered arm, this time she could feel the warmth of his skin.
Yue Qing tried to pull free several times but failed. Seeing this, Madam Feng hurried over and pried Feng Kuizhi’s fingers open.
"Miss Yue, Kuizhi has been improper."
"It’s nothing. Young Master Feng is still feverish and unaware—how could it be improper?" Yue Qing hid her reddened hand in her sleeve. "It’s getting late. I should take my leave."
After Yue Qing departed, the Feng elders returned to their son’s room, unwilling to believe what had happened.
Madam Feng mimicked Yue Qing’s actions, placing her hand on Feng Kuizhi’s wrist. After a full incense stick’s time, he didn’t so much as twitch.
"This child—does he only grab the hands of young ladies?"
Madam Feng tapped Feng Kuizhi’s nose lightly, her tone half-scolding.
"Perhaps it was just an accident."
Master Feng glanced at his unconscious son. That young woman was no ordinary girl—she was someone close to the princess. The princess had only come to Guanzhang Prefecture because of her.
If Kuizhi truly had feelings...
Given the Feng family’s current standing, they were hardly a match.
Moreover, he had noticed that the girl showed no particular interest in Kuizhi.
"I don’t think it was an accident," Madam Feng retorted, shooting her husband a look.
"My dear, children have their own fortunes to seek."
