Various pastries in an array of colors and patterns were laid out on the table, and the shop assistant even stole a glance at Song Jinzhao as he left.
Song Jinzhao said, "We're here for the examinations. My younger brother will be taking the prefectural exam in a few days."
A flicker of surprise passed through Li Zien's eyes. Song Jinzhao's brother seemed to have only started studying not long ago, and he had already passed the county exam so quickly?
"My congratulations to you, Miss Song. I believe your brother is only twelve years old."
Song Jinzhao picked up a pastry and took small bites. His attitude towards her was somewhat different from before.
When she was leaving, Li Zien specifically instructed the assistant to pack up all the pastries on the table for Song Jinzhao to take with her.
After Song Jinzhao left, Li Zien ordered his servant, "Send someone to keep an eye on the prefectural exam results. See if Song Jinzhao's brother can pass."
Passing the prefectural exam would qualify him to take the academy exam. If he became a licentiate, it might not be certain whether they would return to Xining City or not.
A few days later, the other four child scholars from the Zheng family private school also arrived in the prefectural city. Scholar Zheng arrived on the third-to-last day.
Like the county exam, the prefectural exam consisted of three sessions: the eight-legged essay, the regulated verse poem, and the exegesis of the classics and policy essay, which involved political views and current affairs.
The final session on exegesis and policy essays lasted two days. Candidates could not leave midway and had to spend the night in the examination hall.
The prefectural exam was more difficult. In Anyang Prefecture, two thousand candidates who had already passed the county exam were taking it, yet only the top five hundred would qualify for the academy exam.
Before the hour of Yin, most inns in Anyang Prefecture were already brightly lit.
Under the dim candlelight, Song Jinzhao was bending over, packing things for Song Qiming. Song Qiming stared at the swaying shadow on the wall, feeling he would never forget this scene for the rest of his life.
Morning light spilled onto the main street leading to the examination hall. Each candidate was surrounded by one or two anxious family members, some even by three or four.
Scholar Zheng walked while reiterating exam precautions, even though he had already said them countless times the night before.
By this point, no matter how confident he was, Song Qiming still felt nervous.
His hands hanging by his sides unconsciously clenched into fists and rubbed together, and the book box on his back suddenly felt exceptionally heavy.
"Candidates from Xining City, line up over here."
A row of clerks stood at the entrance of the examination hall, shouting loudly while holding their registers.
Song Jinzhao patted Song Qiming on the shoulder. "Do your best on the exam. Your elder sister believes you'll definitely do well."
Song Qiming's eyes shone as he nodded vigorously.
"Brother." Song Anhao hugged Song Qiming, her drool wetting his neck.
His family's encouragement transformed into a warm feeling spreading in Song Qiming's chest. He tightened his grip on the book box strap and nodded firmly. "I will definitely pass."
The moment he turned around, the young man's shoulders bore not only his family's hopes but also a sense of responsibility.
As the eldest son in the family, with his younger brother still very young, he had already let his elder sister shoulder the burden alone for too long. Only by achieving success in the exams could he live up to her sacrifices.
"Compartment Number One Hundred and Thirty-Six, Earth Zone."
After the clerk finished the body search, he shoved a wooden placard for the examination cell into Song Qiming's hand. It was a small piece, not even filling his palm, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
Prefect Meng Hechuan of Anyang sat upright on a Huanghuali wood chair. His deep crimson official robe, under the morning light, gleamed with a dark red luster.
The three-step-high, four-cornered platform offered a clear view of the thousands of cells beyond the wooden railings.
Upon hearing the clerk call out the name "Song Qiming," he lifted his gaze and looked into the distance. He watched until he saw Song Qiming, holding the placard and carrying his book box, turn right from the corridor a hundred meters away.
So it really was that child. He had indeed come to the prefectural exam hall as promised.
Thinking of this, Meng Hechuan felt a flicker of anticipation regarding the list of those who would pass this prefectural exam.
Song Qiming stared gloomily at the latrine next to Compartment Number One Hundred and Thirty-Six. Of all the places, why did it have to be this one?
No one had even used it yet, but he could already smell a faint, pungent odor.
He held his breath and sat down, trying his best to ignore the fact that the latrine was right next door.
Fortunately, it was only April, and the weather was still quite cool. If it were summer, the smell would be who knows how many times worse.
Every time a candidate was escorted by a clerk to use the latrine next door, Song Qiming had to hold his breath and steady his mind.
Dusk arrived. Finally, when the bell rang to collect the papers, he felt utterly drained from the inside out, as if even the air he had just breathed into his lungs was foul.
After the clerk collected and anonymized the exam papers, Song Qiming immediately shouldered his book box and walked out, desperate for a bath and a change of clothes.
Song Jinzhao, waiting outside, saw his pale face. Had he not done well?
The moment Song Qiming saw Song Jinzhao, his face fell. "Elder Sister, I had such bad luck. I was assigned to a 'foul compartment.'"
The prefectural exam lasted four days in total, and the seating assignments didn't change. This meant Song Qiming's compartment for the next two exam sessions would remain next to the latrine.
Only then did Song Jinzhao understand why he looked so terrible. Guarding a latrine all day, it was no wonder he felt awful.
"Come on, let's hurry back so you can wash up. I'll find something to help settle your stomach."
Back at the inn, when Scholar Zheng learned Song Qiming had been assigned a foul compartment, his brow furrowed. "How did you perform?"
Song Qiming's complexion improved slightly as he nodded in response. "It should be fine, it just took a bit more time."
People kept passing by the latrine next door, and the sounds were unavoidable. No matter how hard Song Qiming tried to ignore it, he couldn't.
The next day, Song Qiming went in carrying a bamboo tube filled with strong brown sugar and ginger tea.
Coupled with having endured it for a day already, he had grown somewhat accustomed. When he emerged in the evening, his mood was much better.
The final session required an overnight stay in the cell. Song Jinzhao prepared pastries made with cloves and mint, and also packed a small bag of ginger slices.
The grueling two days and one night finally ended on the last day of the prefectural exam.
Song Qiming stood at the entrance of the examination hall, holding his book box and looking up at the sky. He felt everything was now calm and serene; it was all over.
