The provincial examination lasted three consecutive days, during which candidates could not leave the examination grounds. Their clothing, food, lodging, and activities were all confined to their examination cells.
By midnight, candidates who had traveled from all directions were already queuing at the gates of the examination compound, waiting for entry.
Song Qiming carried his bedding roll. His examination basket was stocked with daily necessities: ink, brushes, paper, inkstone, candles, and three days' worth of dry rations.
After submitting his written guarantor, he underwent a nearly full-body strip search. Clutching his cell assignment plaque, Song Qiming heaved a deep sigh of relief in his heart.
Thankfully, it wasn't the "foul cell." The weather in July was sweltering. Having to answer questions next to the latrine for three days and nights—the stench would be unbearable for anyone and would surely affect one's performance.
For three days and nights, the families waiting outside the examination compound were fraught with anxiety, while the candidates sitting inside their cells were even more tense and urgent, scratching their heads in thought.
On the fourth day, when Song Qiming emerged from the compound, he reeked all over. Though haggard, his spirit seemed reasonably intact.
Song Gaoli had barely stepped out the door before he collapsed to his knees, unable to get up, and was eventually carried home on Song Dazhuang's back.
After eating a meal, Song Qiming fell straight into bed, sleeping for a full day and night until well past midnight before waking.
The examination results would not be posted until ten days later. Ye Liangyu summoned Song Qiming to the neighboring house.
"Passing the provincial exam is not enough. You must set your sights on the provincial-level examination two years from now. Take these books back, study them thoroughly until you understand them completely. If you have any questions, come and ask me anytime."
In the flickering candlelight of the main hall, dozens of desks and chairs were arranged together. The assistant examiners conducted the initial screening, selecting those with coherent writing and reasoning, and grading them into three tiers: excellent, passable, and poor.
After this step, the inner-curtain officials would review the selections, marking outstanding essays with a "recommended" character, before finally submitting them to the Educational Commissioner for the final ranking.
On the day the results were posted, Song Qiming's nervousness was incomparably greater than it had been for the previous county and prefectural exams.
He slept fitfully that night and woke up very early.
Dawn had not yet broken, but the streets were already crowded with people.
Song Jinzhao had secured a spot in a tavern opposite the examination compound in advance. As soon as the ranking list was posted, they would be able to see it immediately.
At the third watch of the Yin hour, after the Educational Commissioner led the officials in paying homage to Emperor Wenchang, gongs and drums erupted at the compound gates.
Yamen runners strode out from the compound holding high the red-paper list, posting it on the high wall by the gate before departing.
Standing in the front row of officials, Meng Hechuan's gaze fell upon Song Jinzhao and Song Qiming. The corners of his eyes tilted upward into a satisfied smile.
Some, overcome with excitement, laughed uproariously at the sky, pointing at the list and shouting, "I passed! I've become a Xiucai!"
Some successful candidates knelt on the ground, weeping and kowtowing repeatedly, murmuring over and over, "Father, Mother, your son has passed. Your son has not failed you."
Some who failed scrutinized the list back and forth three times, finally turning away with tears streaming down their faces.
An elderly man tore open his collar, ripped the essays he had written over the years into shreds, and flung them into the air before staggering away, disappearing into the crowd.
Others simply smiled faintly, muttering to themselves, "Enough. It's alright. I'll just try again in two years."
Song Jinzhao stared in slight disbelief at the name in the first row, first column.
Song Qiming of Xining County, Anyang Prefecture, Longbei Province.
The name was correct, the native place was correct. She never expected he would perform so well—first place, the top candidate!
Song Qiming appeared calm, but in reality, the fingertips of his hands hanging at his sides trembled uncontrollably.
He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. When he opened them again, his gaze was clear and bright.
The heavy burden that had weighed on his shoulders for months finally lifted completely at this moment.
He turned sideways towards Song Jinzhao, grinning widely, his eyes slightly moist. His tone carried a mix of bitterness and grievance, "Elder Sister, I passed. Top candidate, first place."
Those crowded around heard this and looked Song Qiming up and down in shock. So young?
He looked like a mere youth. To become a Xiucai at such a tender age, and to be the top candidate who outperformed thousands—this was nothing short of genius!
When the two returned to the tavern, Song Shixue, holding Song Anhao, came forward to meet them.
Her eyes full of anticipation, she asked urgently, "Brother, I just heard people say the top candidate is named Song Qiming. Is it you?"
Song Jinzhao's lips curved in a smile.
Song Qiming nodded.
Song Shixue's deer-like eyes instantly sparkled brilliantly, the joy in them seeming to overflow like water.
"I knew it! My brother is the most amazing!"
People nearby turned to look at the sound. Ears burning red, Song Qiming led Song Shixue back to their seats.
Not long after, Song Gaoli and Wei Qianliang rushed in excitedly with their families.
"I passed!" they said in unison, their eyes shining brighter than the sun as they looked at Song Qiming.
Wei Qianliang threw an arm around Song Qiming's neck and jostled him playfully. "When I saw your name in first place, I was stunned."
Song Qiming asked, "What ranks did you get?"
Wei Qianliang held up three fingers. "Thirtieth."
Song Qiming looked at Song Gaoli.
Song Gaoli planted his hands on his hips, lifting his chin proudly. "Guess?"
Wei Qianliang gritted his teeth, suppressing a laugh.
Song Qiming blinked, venturing uncertainly, "Could it be... last place again?"
Song Gaoli threw his head back and laughed heartily. "That's right! I scraped by and passed again!"
Song Jinzhao's eyes widened in astonishment. She had considered the possibility of a repeat, but never imagined it would actually happen.
Was Song Gaoli heaven's favorite? Passing by the skin of his teeth twice.
Song Dazhuang was now so overjoyed he was dizzy, not knowing which way was up.
He had held onto hope, yet felt it was so slim he dared not dwell on it.
Now that his son had passed, it felt like he had stumbled upon immense luck.
The three families discussed it and agreed to visit Ye Liangyu with gifts immediately upon returning home. That their children had passed this time was undoubtedly due in large part to Ye Liangyu.
When Song Jinzhao brought the three youths back to their rented courtyard, they found two scholars in long gowns at the gate, accompanied by yamen runners in official uniforms.
"Congratulations to Young Master Song for achieving top candidate honors."
According to regulations, for those who placed first in the provincial examination, the Educational Commissioner's office would swiftly send the candidate's native place information to the relevant county and prefecture yamen.
The yamen was required to form a news-bearing team that same day, carrying a vermilion-lacquered success announcement stamped with the Educational Commissioner's seal to the top candidate's home to deliver the good news.
If the successful candidate was still in the prefectural city, the Educational Commissioner would first send someone to the candidate's temporary residence for a brief notification. Later, their registered hometown would stage a gong-and-drum procession to announce it again.
Looking at the gold-dusted announcement presented to him, Song Qiming reached out to accept it with some nervousness. "Thank you, Sir. You have worked hard. Would you stay for some tea?"
The messenger shook his head. "Many tasks today. We must hurry back."
Song Jinzhao quietly slipped a tael of silver into the man's hand. Beaming with delight, he left satisfied.
In the afternoon, when Song Dazhuang arrived with gifts of thanks, his hands were so full he couldn't carry everything.
Over the past three months, he had found work as a manual laborer unloading goods in the city. He rose earlier than the rooster and slept later than the dog, but fortunately earned a decent amount of silver.
Not only had he repaid the five taels he owed Song Jinzhao, but after daily expenses, he still had a little left.
Since Song Gaoli's success was largely thanks to Ye Liangyu, Song Dazhuang had simply bought more gifts.
Upon learning that Song Qiming had achieved top candidate honors, Ye Liangyu nodded with gratification. "You three performed well. I have finally not failed Brother Zheng's entrustment."
Song Qiming and the other two bowed with hands clasped. "It is entirely due to your instruction, Master, that we succeeded at the first attempt. Even if we dashed out our brains and spilled our guts in this lifetime, we could never repay one ten-thousandth of our debt."
Ye Liangyu's gaze fell upon his leg, wrapped in white bandages, and his thoughts drifted back to the day he first met the three of them. He had never imagined that day would become a turning point, rekindling his will to live.
Fate truly works in mysterious ways.
"At tomorrow's Hairpin Flower Banquet, observe more and speak less. This is especially important for you, Qiming. As the top scholar, you must remain composed whether people approach to flatter you or to cause trouble."
"The imperial examinations are a long road; becoming a scholar is merely the first step. Your studies must always come first."
Song Qiming replied, "This student will remember your instructions."
The next day, Song Qiming went to attend the Hairpin Flower Banquet, while Song Jinzhao arrived at the Ye residence pushing a wheelchair.
She had specially commissioned it from a carpenter, even signing a profit-sharing contract.
"Mr. Ye, during the bone-healing period, you must avoid moving your legs unnecessarily. Getting out more often will help relax your mind."
"After the banquet, Qiming and I will be returning to our hometown for a while. We'll come back just before the Anyang Academy's term begins."
Ye Liangyu pressed, "When can I begin weight-bearing training?"
Seeing his impatient expression, Song Jinzhao pressed her lips together and said sternly, "Haste makes waste. It's only been half a month since the bone fracture correction. Based on your recovery, it will be at least another two and a half months."
Studying the expression on Song Jinzhao's face, Ye Liangyu realized he was being too hasty.
During this time, he had already learned all about her family situation from Song Qiming.
Every time he saw Song Jinzhao, he couldn't help but wonder silently: what kind of parents could have raised such an exceptional daughter?
Although both of Song Qiming's parents had passed away, having an elder sister like her—accomplished in both literary and martial arts, with superb medical skills—would be a significant asset to him if he were to enter government service in the future.
