Princess Jinse's voice was so soft that it seemed as if a single gust of wind could blow it away entirely.
The palace maid standing behind her opened her mouth to say something, but then swallowed the words back.
At the entrance of the Yongning Marquis Manor, Shi Youlan had been standing there waiting since early morning.
She wore a newly made pale pink linen jacket, the white jade hairpin that Shi Huai had given her tucked in her hair, and clutched a handkerchief in her hand.
The handkerchief had been twisted so tightly in her grip that it was crumpled all over.
Two young servant girls followed behind her, one holding a bouquet of flowers, the other holding a length of red silk.
"Second Miss, you have been standing here for almost an hour. Please come inside and rest a while. The moment the young master returns, this servant will come and report to you right away," the servant girl behind her whispered.
Shi Youlan shook her head, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on the far end of the long street.
From the distance, the sound of ceremonial music drifted over, growing louder and louder, and the hubbub of the surrounding crowd swelled along with it.
Shi Youlan's eyes lit up at once. She lifted the hem of her skirt and ran two steps forward, then stopped, thinking better of being so unseemly, and stood rooted to the spot craning her neck to stare down the street.
The procession came winding grandly down the long street.
Riding at the very front was Top Laureate Lu Zhiyuan, mounted on a chestnut horse, his expression composed, his eyes fixed straight ahead without a sideways glance.
Behind him was Second Laureate Liu Ziheng, his face ashen pale, both hands clamped tight around the reins, his whole body wobbling unsteadily on horseback as if he might tumble off at any moment.
Further back came Third Laureate Shi Huai.
The moment Shi Youlan saw her brother riding toward her in his bright red official robe, tears began streaming down her face for no clear reason.
She wiped at them roughly with the back of her hand, again and again, but the tears were like a broken string of pearls, impossible to stop.
"Brother! Brother!"
Shi Youlan's voice cut clearly through the noisy crowd.
Shi Huai's gaze drifted over the crowd and landed on Shi Youlan.
She was standing on the steps of the marquis manor's entrance, in her pale pink jacket, the white jade hairpin he had given her in her hair, tears streaking her face, looking for all the world like a little abandoned kitten.
Shi Huai gave her a slight nod, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small smile.
That smile made Shi Youlan feel so light and giddy that her legs went weak and she nearly collapsed, and the servant girls behind her hurried to steady her.
Leaning against the maids, she watched Shi Huai ride past her. The hem of his bright red robe fluttered in the wind, brushing against her cheek, carrying with it a faint, delicate fragrance.
Shi Yuanzhi was standing just inside the manor's main gate, not stepping out into the street.
He stood behind the door, peering through the crack as Shi Huai rode past the entrance. The bright red robe blazed like fire in the sunlight, stinging his eyes.
His eyes turned red, and a lump rose in his throat, thick and unmovable.
He remembered a line his mother had said before she passed away.
"Huai'er is a child who will surely go far in life. You will see."
Back then he had not believed her, but now he did.
But his mother was no longer here to see it.
The procession came to a stop at the entrance of the Imperial Examination Hall. The newly promoted jinshi dismounted from their horses, to carve their names into the stone stele at the hall's gate.
This was an old tradition of the Great Yan Dynasty, passed down from the time of the first Taizu Emperor. Every jinshi who passed the imperial examination was required to leave their name carved on the jinshi stele at the examination hall entrance.
Shi Huai stood before the stele, a carving knife in his hand. He found the spot reserved for his name, and carved the two characters "Shi Huai" slowly and deliberately, stroke by stroke.
When he finished, he handed the carving knife to the yamen servant standing beside him, then stepped back two paces to look at the two characters, glowing bright in the sunlight.
Shen Yizhi leaned over to peek at it. "Your carving is beautiful, even more beautiful than the Top Laureate's."
Lu Zhiyuan, standing nearby, heard the comment, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He said nothing, and turned to walk away.
Shen Yizhi watched his retreating back, and pouted. "What a stick in the mud. Can't he take a compliment?"
Shi Huai glanced at him. "You were complimenting me, not him. Why would he be pleased about that?"
Shen Yizhi was left speechless by the retort, scratching his head and chuckling sheepishly.
He squatted down in front of the stele to start carving his own name. Halfway through, his hand shook, and the walking radical at the bottom of the character "Yi" ended up lopsided. He stared at the crooked stroke for a long moment, then sighed.
"Oh well, crooked is crooked. No one is going to look at it anyway."
Shi Huai glanced down at the lopsided radical. "Who says no one will? For hundreds of years to come, every jinshi who comes after will see it."
Shen Yizhi's face fell immediately. He picked up the carving knife to try and fix the stroke, but after two more cuts it was even more crooked. He threw the knife down in exasperation.
"Forget it. It's staying like this."
Shi Huai couldn't help but smile at his petulant display.
Liu Ziheng's legs had gone completely weak when he got off his horse, and he only managed to stay upright by clinging to the arm of a yamen servant.
He squatted in front of the stele for a long while to catch his breath, then picked up the carving knife and shakily carved out his name.
He carved very slowly, putting every ounce of his strength into each stroke.
When he finished, he stood up, stepped back two paces, and stared at his name, his expression almost as if he were about to cry.
"I'm thirty years old. I finally passed," he murmured to himself, his voice so soft that only Shi Huai standing beside him could hear.
Shi Huai glanced at him, said nothing, and pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve to hand over.
"Second Laureate, wipe the sweat off your face."
Liu Ziheng took the handkerchief, wiped his forehead roughly. The handkerchief carried a faint scent of soapberry, fresh and clean.
He kept the handkerchief clutched in his hand, not giving it back. After all, it would be terribly rude to return it immediately after using it.
Shi Huai did not ask for it back, and turned to walk away.
Shen Yizhi stood up from the stele, brushing the dust off his knees, and hurried after him.
"Shi Huai, are you going to the victory banquet?"
"Of course I'm going. Why wouldn't I?"
Shen Yizhi chuckled. "Wait for me then, I'll go with you. My carriage broke down, so I'll ride in yours."
Shi Huai glanced at him. "Your carriage broke down?"
Shen Yizhi nodded with a perfectly straight face. "It broke right on my way here. I heard a loud 'crack' sound, it must be the axle that snapped."
Shi Huai said no more, and started walking toward the carriages.
Shen Yizhi trotted to catch up, chattering nonstop. "You look so good in that red robe. A hundred times better than the Top Laureate."
Lu Zhiyuan was walking far ahead, his steps quick as if he was in a great hurry to leave the place.
When he reached his carriage, he stopped suddenly, glancing back in Shi Huai's direction. His gaze lingered on Shi Huai for a brief moment.
Lu Zhiyuan pressed his lips together, then climbed into his own carriage. The carriage curtain fell shut with a dull thud.
The victory banquet was held in the guild hall right next to the Imperial Examination Hall, arranged by the Ministry of Rites. More than twenty tables had been set up. The dishes were not particularly fancy, but they were hearty and substantial.
When Shi Huai walked into the guild hall, quite a few people were already there, chatting in small groups.
The moment he stepped in, the bustling hall fell silent for a split second. Every head turned, and all eyes locked onto him.
Some people immediately stood up to offer him their seats, some hurried to pour tea for him, others crowded around to strike up a conversation. Everyone wanted a chance to speak to him, toast him a cup of wine, make themselves known to him.
Shen Yizhi, trailing behind him, got jostled around by the crowd several times. Eventually he gave up pushing through, dragged a chair to a corner, and sat there drinking wine on his own.
