The patrolling guards walked back and forth with boards inscribed with exam questions in their hands. Despite being mentally prepared, Song Yu still froze for a moment.
As expected, having Shen Mingwen and Ye Shijie—those two old men—serve as chief examiners together was bound to lead to trouble.
He could already imagine the history books recording that the imperial examination of the 39th year of Yuanyou was notoriously difficult, leaving countless scholars in despair.
The sound of sharp inhales echoed around him. Song Yu couldn’t help but feel a bit mischievously amused—these examinees must never have suffered under Ye Shijie’s torment.
Otherwise, they’d at least be able to maintain a composed facade like him.
The first session consisted of seven questions: three on the Four Books and four on the Five Classics. For the latter, candidates only needed to answer based on their specialized classic.
Song Yu’s specialization was the Spring and Autumn Annals, which Shen Mingwen himself had once tutored him in.
Since there were three days to complete the exam, Song Yu wasn’t in a hurry to start writing. Instead, he silently contemplated his approach.
From his elevated position, Shen Mingwen scanned the room. Seeing some candidates hastily putting brush to paper, he shook his head inwardly—haste makes waste.
Then his gaze landed on Song Yu, who sat poised and unruffled. Shen Mingwen felt satisfied.
Now this was the demeanor of a future top scorer.
Time flew inside the examination hall, but for those waiting outside, every day dragged on endlessly.
At the Qin Prince's Mansion...
"My lady, it’s time for your meal." Baoxia’s face was scrunched up like a worried dumpling. Ever since the prince left for the examination hall, the young mistress had been distracted, and now she’d even lost her appetite. What was to be done?
"Baoxia, I’m not hungry."
Song Shihuan rubbed her stomach—it didn’t even growl.
Her mind was entirely preoccupied with whether the exam questions would be difficult. She had a feeling that Grand Tutor Shen and Minister Ye were scheming something big this time.
Would her father end up cursing aloud in frustration?
Baoxia’s mind raced—what could she do if her mistress wasn’t hungry?
"My lady, let’s spar a little."
Without warning, Baoxia threw a punch toward Song Shihuan, who dodged swiftly. The two quickly moved outside, exchanging blows.
Half an hour later...
"Baoxia, I’m hungry now."
Panting heavily, Song Shihuan gave her a thumbs-up.
......
Meanwhile, at Prince Qi's Mansion...
"Your Highness, Minister of Justice Zhou Kun requests an audience."
Prince Qi looked up and tossed aside the novel he’d been reading. Ever since Gou Wu was expelled and Emperor Yuanyou had reprimanded him harshly, Prince Qi’s fighting spirit had nearly withered away.
In fact, he was starting to think that being an idle prince wasn’t so bad.
After all, the emperor’s favoritism was blatantly obvious.
With that in mind, Prince Qi replied flatly, "I won’t see him."
A short while later, the servant returned. "Your Highness, Minister Zhou insists he has urgent matters to report."
"Do I not have urgent matters of my own?" Prince Qi smirked bitterly. He’d been tricked into drinking urine, yet his father still blamed him—now, everything he did was wrong!
"Fine, let him in."
Zhou Kun entered nervously, but before he could speak, Prince Qi’s weary voice cut in, "You have one incense stick’s time. Speak quickly, then leave."
"Your Highness..."
"All I want now is to enjoy myself. If you’re so eager to help, find me an opera troupe that specializes in ballads."
Zhou Kun’s heart skipped a beat—was Prince Qi starting to emulate Prince Qin’s carefree ways?
Seeing the prince order a servant to light an incense stick, Zhou Kun hurriedly spoke:
"Your Highness, the candidate Chen Ye has an exceptionally high chance of ranking first in the examination. He is the concubine-born son of my eldest son. If he succeeds, he will undoubtedly serve Your Highness with unwavering loyalty." Zhou Kun’s voice brimmed with excitement. "I’ve devised a plan to create an auspicious omen for this imperial examination. Once it happens, Chen Ye’s prestige will soar."
"What kind of omen?"
"I will arrange for magpies to be captured and released at the Confucius Temple on the day the exams conclude. This will symbolize Confucius’s blessing—proof that this examination has produced an extraordinary talent."
The only problem was that the Confucius Temple was heavily guarded, requiring Prince Qi’s influence to intervene.
Zhou Kun spoke with fervor, but Prince Qi remained unimpressed. "Are you so certain Chen Ye will be the top scorer? I won’t waste effort for someone else’s benefit."
"His only rival, Guo Feng from Ji'an Prefecture, was recently poisoned. He’ll undoubtedly perform poorly."
"Guo Feng was poisoned?" Prince Qi straightened in his seat, his mood lifting.
Served that fool right for refusing to pledge allegiance to him.
"Very well, proceed as you’ve planned." Prince Qi leaned back. "But if Chen Ye rises to prominence, he’d better not betray me."
Recognizing the warning, Zhou Kun hastily gave his assurances.
Only after leaving the mansion did Zhou Kun exhale in relief.
With this auspicious omen, Chen Ye... this boy would become the Zhou family’s rising star!
......
Back in the examination hall, Song Yu finished the final five policy essays of the third session, his exhaustion melting away.
He even began admiring his own work—such brilliant essays! Truly, he was as naturally gifted as Shihuan.
As he savored his achievement, Song Yu calmly lit sandalwood incense, its fragrant smoke curling upward.
The scent reached a nearby guard, who couldn’t help but approach Song Yu’s cubicle. Seeing that Song Yu had already set down his brush, the guard was astonished.
While other candidates were still scribbling frantically—some even scratching their heads in frustration—this young master Guo from Ji'an Prefecture had already finished?
The guard’s gaze toward Song Yu grew respectful.
Next time they met, they might have to bow to him.
When the exam concluded, the gong sounded once more.
But due to the difficulty of the questions, some candidates continued writing desperately even as the guards collected papers.
Naturally, they were caught red-handed, their names recorded and their papers downgraded—a futile effort.
Song Yu shook his head. Better luck next time. Perhaps the examination conditions would improve by then.
And if he never had to face those two old troublemakers, Shen Mingwen and Ye Shijie, again, it’d be a blessing in disguise.
He grumbled inwardly.
At the same time, nearly a hundred magpies circled above the Confucius Temple, their chirping incessant.
Almost everyone immediately thought of the examinees about to emerge from the hall. Could there be a chosen one among them?
Thus, all eyes turned to the examination hall—would the first to exit be the one?
Song Yu was the first to stride out, his demeanor calm and dignified, every inch the heaven-blessed prodigy.
A hidden servant from Prince Qi's Mansion took one look and bolted back to report.
"Your Highness, the first to exit was Guo Feng from Ji'an Prefecture. He didn’t look sick or poisoned at all."
Prince Qi shot to his feet. "What about Chen Ye? Didn’t Zhou Kun promise Chen Ye would be first?"
Had he just paved the way for someone else’s triumph?
