Chapter 136

Chapter 136

A month after falling ill and recovering, Shen Anniang finally stepped outside.

She first summoned Shen Yuan to confirm repeatedly that he truly liked Xie Yulin and had no intention of marrying or having children. Shen Anniang nodded.

“During this time, Auntie caused you distress. It was Auntie’s fault.”

No matter what, being alive was what mattered most. During this time, she had come to accept things.

Everything else could wait.

She had endured worse experiences before; at worst, things couldn’t get any worse than they already had been.

Shen Anniang tacitly accepted the relationship between Shen Yuan and Xie Yulin, though she was still in an adjustment period.

Shen Yuan gave his aunt time to adjust. He didn’t mention Xie Yulin in front of her and also told Xie Yulin to hold off on appearing at his home during the day for a while.

Xie Yulin readily agreed. He didn’t appear during the day, but he came by often at night.

One day in April, Li Xing said he wanted to see Shen Yuan. Having not entered the palace for a long time, Shen Yuan tidied up and went.

For this meeting, both Xie Yulin and Song Zijuan were present.

Song Zijuan had an injured arm, held in a sling across his chest. Shen Yuan glanced at it.

Song Zijuan caught that glance and wasn’t about to let it go. He said with a smile, “A minor injury—nothing serious. State Preceptor Shen, there’s no need to worry.”

Shen Yuan looked away. “I wasn’t worried about you.”

Song Zijuan smiled faintly.

Not being worried was fine; just being seen by him was enough.

Xie Yulin shot a cold glance at Song Zijuan. Song Zijuan pretended not to see it and sat directly beside Shen Yuan.

There were three seats. Shen Yuan sat in the middle. Li Xing sat on the couch opposite them, his eyes darting back and forth as if watching an entertaining show.

Sensing that Brother Xie was about to glare someone to death, Li Xing cleared his throat lightly and began discussing the matter at hand. “According to what Prime Minister Xie said, State Preceptor Shen once saw in a dream a method of selecting talent through ability-based testing—the imperial examination. After several days of discussion, the system can now be fully implemented, and some details have already been refined. So, it’s time to inform the people.”

“Using theater to spread the idea is the most direct method, allowing audiences to instantly grasp its meaning. However, this carries some risk…” As Li Xing spoke, his eyes were on Xie Yulin. “I guarantee, State Preceptor Shen, that if you write a play about the imperial examination, you won’t suffer so much as a scratch or lose a single hair.”

Seeing that Xie Yulin remained expressionless meant he approved of this method.

No matter what, Shen Yuan’s safety came first.

Shen Yuan nodded in agreement. He was now a citizen of Wu. Wu’s progress and a better environment would only benefit him—and mean a better life in these times.

So he would do what he could.

In the following days, Shen Yuan secluded himself and began plotting and writing the story.

The summer was sweltering. Shen Yuan ate fruit chilled in the well, which carried a slight coolness. He began craving cold drinks and ice pops.

So he diverted his pen and wrote down many recipes for cold drinks and ice pops.

He finished writing the story a month later. During that time, some props had already begun production. Doing both simultaneously would get the play onstage sooner.

Due to the need for secrecy, the first batch of actors needed to rehearse in seclusion—and they received double pay.

The actors were all carefully selected by Shen Yuan. Feng Xiaoqi, Feng Xiaomei, A Ju, and Old Master Lu were among them.

Wu did not uphold notions of male superiority or the idea that women should remain unseen in public—a fact Shen Yuan had observed.

However, because women married out and joined other families, households invested little in their daughters, focusing instead on raising sons.

From what Shen Yuan understood, Wu had female generals, and there were actually many female officers and soldiers in regional garrisons.

There were numerous women among military officers—but none among civil officials.

He surmised this stemmed partly from families prioritizing sons’ cultivation, and partly because women managed all household affairs and simply had no time to serve as officials.

Managing a family clan involved far more than handling trivial domestic matters.

It was deeply complex—encompassing agriculture, commerce, manufacturing, and interpersonal networks… Their work was even more demanding than that of male court officials.

Among various families’ advisors, women—and even children—were common.

Given this background, Shen Yuan’s imperial examination story faced fewer restrictions.

The playhouse launched another new play.

It was rare for a new play to follow so soon after the previous one.

Its title was also unusual: *Journey to the Capital for the Examination*.

What was “Shangjing”? A place name? Wu didn’t seem to have such a place.

And what was "Gankao"? The term "Gankao" evoked the image of hurrying to roast something—yet the character "Kao" signified an examination. A mad dash to sit for a test?

Those who were literate stared at the title, utterly baffled.

Like *Guardian*, this play premiered on the outdoor stage.

People could tell that plays premiering outdoors centered on ordinary folk.

Some found this genre appealing; others did not.

Those interested sent servants to queue early for seats. Those uninterested either went to teahouses to listen to storytellers—the teahouses in Youyang City all featured stories Shen Yuan had written earlier, alongside new ones penned by authors from the West City Storytellers’ Union.

Shen Nan’s stories were among them too—though patrons visiting teahouses didn’t particularly favor his work, while those frequenting teahouses loved them.

Those not heading to teahouses went to the playhouse to check whether *Catching Demons* was being performed. If not, they sought other entertainment.

A Ju and Old Master Lu starred in the new play.

Before stepping onstage, the two took a deep breath.

This was their first time playing leading roles—and such significant, unprecedented ones at that.

Nervousness was inevitable. But as professional performers, once they stepped onstage, they became the characters themselves.

Their acting is the best of the bunch, and they are extremely hardworking and diligent.

Shen Yuan isn't worried about them botching the performance; he only fears the audience might get rowdy.

He made preparations in advance. Today, the troops stationed around the stage to prevent the audience from climbing onto it are all soldiers.

Led by Shen Dong, their task is not only to keep the audience off the stage but also to guard against anyone trying to sabotage the stage or stop the show.

As the play is about to begin, the masters who had their servants reserve seats arrive late.

Seeing two rows of soldiers standing at the front, they can't help but raise their eyebrows.

This is an unprecedented sight.

Though curious, they don't dwell on it further and take their seats to watch the play.

"Dong, dong, dong—"

The familiar sound of gongs rings out, and the play begins.

Zhang Zhi, a retainer of a noble family, is no longer young. At over forty, he feels the changes in his body and senses his master's growing dissatisfaction with him.

His strategies fail to bring his master more fame or profit—only the goodwill of the common people, which his master doesn't value.

Since he isn't an emperor and can't win over the people on a large scale, it's better not to bother.

Yet Zhang Zhi can't bring himself to propose ideas that prey on the people's suffering, schemes he finds contemptible.

Unfortunately, despite his lofty ambitions, he has no opportunity to realize them.

He had hoped that becoming a retainer would offer a chance—that his master might recommend him for an official position.

But years have passed with no achievements to show for it.

Zhang Zhi sighs, his eyes filled with frustration and longing, yet he can only stoop his back and turn away, helpless and heartbroken.

At night, Zhang Zhi grows tired from reading and falls asleep at his desk.

When he wakes, he catches a chill and falls ill. He can't afford a doctor, forcing him to endure it on his own.

He puts on all the clothes he has, trying to keep himself warm.

In his dazed state, a knock comes at the door—it's his friend Liu Fang, who has come to visit after hearing of his illness.

Liu Fang brings medicine for Zhang Zhi. "Look at you, still so stubborn at your age. As a retainer, your duty is to solve your master's worries. Your ambitions for the country and its people are too high-minded; you'll never realize them in this lifetime. I advise you to let go and live a quiet life for a few years. If not for yourself, think of your wife and children who've suffered alongside you—they've never had a single good day."

Liu Fang sighs, unable to understand how his friend has ended up in such a state—ill without medicine to take, without even a thick coat to wear.

"Who else lives as a retainer like you? Everyone else has enough to eat and wear, but you struggle even with that."

Listening to his friend's nagging, Zhang Zhi smiles, showing no anger, only gratitude for his friend's concern and regret for making him spend money on medicine.

"Just note down the cost of the medicine; I'll repay you later."

Liu Fang never expected Zhang Zhi to repay him, but he can't bear to see his friend living like this. "Where will you get the money to repay me?"

"I plan to go back to farming," Zhang Zhi says.

This infuriates Liu Fang, who jumps up and shouts, "Are you that single-minded? How can you be so stubborn? A good life is right in front of you, yet you refuse to take it. Once you go back to farming, will you ever leave? Do you want your descendants to farm for generations?"

"Brother Liu, I know everything you're saying," Zhang Zhi sighs helplessly. "But I can't get past the hurdle in my heart. If I can only realize my ambitions by harming others, I'd rather be a simple farmer. Tending the fields would at least give me peace of mind."

"How is it harming others?" Liu Fang strongly disagrees. "Everything you want to achieve requires real power. Retreating to advance isn't a bad strategy. Zhang Zhi, don't be as rigid as your name suggests—unable to bend."

Zhang Zhi falls silent, a wordless refusal.

Liu Fang shakes his head. He can't persuade such a stubborn person; forget it.

He turns to leave but steps back. Angrily, he slams his money pouch on the table, refusing to let Zhang Zhi decline. "Take this. When your crops are harvested, repay me with grain."

Farming is no easy task—who knows how much hardship and suffering it will bring.

Liu Fang sighs, says nothing more, and leaves.

Zhang Zhi holds the money pouch, bows, and cups his hands toward Liu Fang's retreating figure. "Thank you, Brother Liu."

Who knows when they'll meet again after this parting.

Zhang Zhi packs his belongings and returns home, bidding farewell to over twenty years as a retainer.

As the scene ends, many retainers of noble families in the audience see their own struggles reflected in Zhang Zhi's plight.

Unable to abandon their principles yet lacking the courage to return home and farm.

They cowardly cling to noble families, barely surviving, scrambling for a bowl of rice, living in wretchedness.

On stage, the stagehand withdraws with a long pole. As the curtain falls, a pastoral scene unfolds before the audience.

Qin Yueliang, dressed in work clothes, is sprawled at the edge of the field, studying something.

Only when someone calls her name three times does she snap out of it.

"Third Miss Qin, please move aside. The ox cart can't pass, and I don't want you to get hurt."

The ox cart driver speaks quickly and familiarly, as if he's said this many times before.

Qin Yueliang embarrassedly gets up and steps back several paces.

After the ox cart passes smoothly, Zhang Zhi asks the driver, "That's a young lady? She looks more like a boy."

The ox cart driver laughs. "Uncle Zhang, since you're rarely home, you wouldn't know her. All the land around here belongs to the wealthy Qin family. That's the third daughter of the Qins. She's been a tomboy since childhood and hasn't changed—she loves spending time in the fields. She often brings ink and brushes, writing and drawing on paper, though no one knows what she's doing."

"Ah, but I think the Qin family might soon change its surname to Chen."

Zhang Zhi isn't particularly interested in other families' affairs, but sensing the driver's eagerness to be asked, he smiles and asks, "Why is that?"

Steering the ox cart steadily, the driver shares everything he knows, thoroughly satisfying his urge to talk.

"All the men in the Qin family have died, leaving only women. The eldest Qin daughter wanted to keep the family going, so she broke off her long-standing engagement and took in a live-in son-in-law. Over the years, people from the son-in-law's Chen family have been everywhere in the Qin family's fields and shops. Even the rent collection in our village is done by someone named Chen." Speaking of this, the driver grows unhappy. "The Chens are greedy and lecherous. Every time they come to collect rent, they demand extra 'tributes' and harass the young women. There's nowhere to seek justice, and the Qin family can't even control it. The mistress of the house is chronically ill, and the family is being drained dry—how could they manage anything else?"

Ah, every family has its own troubles.

Zhang Zhi returns home to find his wife and children in tears.

Though he rarely comes home, he sends money to his family every year through a security convoy. If not for the money he sent every year, his family would have assumed he'd died away from home.

The day after Zhang Zhi returns, he shoulders a hoe and follows his family to work in the fields.

An hour later, he fainted in the field.

He had fainted from exhaustion.

Many of the fellow laborers nearby chuckled—not out of malice, but simply because they found it amusing; they had never seen someone faint from such a short amount of work.

Seeing his father lying there unconscious and serene, the eldest son didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He could only carry the man home on his back and lay him carefully on the bed.

After just an hour of farm work, Zhang Zhi fainted briefly and then suffered from aches and pains all over for two or three days.

As he worried at home about how to get by, a member of the Qin household arrived in the courtyard, saying the master of the house invited him to the Qin residence for a discussion.

Zhang Zhi told a neighbor to inform his family when they returned that he had gone to the Qin residence.

Upon arriving, Zhang Zhi learned that the head of the household, Madam Qin, had sought him out because she knew he had served as a retainer for the powerful for many years and wanted him to teach the family’s children reading and writing.

The family's tutor had limited learning; he could only teach the children to write characters and nothing more.

When the constantly coughing Madam Qin offered a monthly salary of five taels of silver and a waiver of seventy percent of his family's land tax, Zhang Zhi nodded in agreement.

The Zhang family had seen better days, but natural disasters compounded by man-made calamities eventually led them to this place.

Initially, the family owned many books—priceless treasures that could not be bought and that they would never part with if they could help it.

Unfortunately, someone targeted them and lured his father into gambling; he eventually gambled all those books away.

Only after losing everything did his father come to his senses; unable to bear it, he hanged himself.

Recalling the past, Zhang Zhi couldn’t help but sigh.

The Qin family’s book collection wasn’t large, and the children he was to teach had already studied those texts.

After some thought, Zhang Zhi decided to write down his experiences and observations from his time as a retainer for the powerful. This was precisely what Madam Qin wanted him to teach.

Seven people in the Qin family studied under Zhang Zhi.

Besides the third daughter, Qin Yueliang, whom he had met once before, there was a little girl named Qin Bao. The other five all had the surname Chen.

They were children from Madam Qin’s husband’s side of the family.

Those selected to attend the lessons were not troublemakers, at least not openly.

Qin Yueliang attended classes with Qin Bao and didn’t speak much with the five Chens.

Zhang Zhi taught daily and treated all his students with strict impartiality.

If he hadn’t discovered the Chen brothers bullying Qin Yueliang in secret, he would have continued to treat everyone the same.

Qin Yueliang sat in the small room, her face expressionless.

This room was specifically for Zhang Zhi to rest in after class.

Zhang Zhi sighed repeatedly until Qin Yueliang couldn’t stand listening to it anymore. “Teacher, sighing too much will make you age.”

“Teacher is not young to begin with,” Zhang Zhi replied, then looked at her arm. “Does it still hurt?”

Qin Yueliang shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“How long have they been pricking you with needles? Have you told your family?” Zhang Zhi asked.

Qin Yueliang replied calmly, “Since the first day I started studying with them. I didn’t tell; it would be useless.”

“Your elder sister will handle it,” Zhang Zhi said firmly. “She cares about you deeply; just tell her.”

“Hasn’t Teacher heard people say the Qin family is on the verge of no longer being the Qins'?” Qin Yueliang said listlessly. “My elder sister cares about me, so I mustn’t tell her all the more. If she knew, she would definitely confront the Chens. She’s not in good health; she would get the short end of the stick and suffer for it.”

Even an honest official finds it hard to settle family disputes, and Zhang Zhi understood this principle.

He sighed several more times, distressed by his own helplessness.

Afterward, at the end of each class, Zhang Zhi would call Qin Yueliang and Qin Bao under the pretext of testing them, keeping them in the small room.

He also shared the pastries his wife had prepared for him with the two children.

The Qin family lacked no good food, and these pastries weren’t particularly exquisite—just white rice cakes with a bit of honey for sweetness.

But Qin Yueliang and Qin Bao found the pastries made by the teacher’s wife delicious.

Qin Yueliang was fourteen, and Qin Bao was six.

To Zhang Zhi, they were both just children.

Seeing them enjoy the food made him happy.

Because Zhang Zhi deliberately prevented them, the Chen brothers could no longer secretly bully Qin Yueliang.

A year passed like this. Madam Qin’s long-ailing body was worn out and could no longer hold on. Before the New Year's festivities were over, she passed away.

The Qin family held a grand funeral.

Zhang Zhi was let go by the Qin family.

To be precise, he was dismissed by the late Madam Qin’s husband.

The plaque on the residence still read “Qin Residence,” but no one knew how long the name “Qin” would remain.

During his year with the family, Zhang Zhi saved a considerable amount of silver, and his household had become somewhat prosperous.

However, he once again found himself unsure of what to do.

The New Year days were bleak with cold winds, but the family gathered together, warm and cheerful.

Zhang Zhi felt both desolate and joyful about the reunion, as if split in two; his heart was filled with mixed emotions.

Some retainers in the audience, along with others who shared similar feelings of frustration and unfulfilled ambitions, watched the changes in the performer’s expression, wishing they could go onstage and share a few drinks with Zhang Zhi.

It was exactly like their own lives!

On the third day of the Lunar New Year, Liu Fang rushed anxiously to the Zhang household.

“Zhang Zhi! I have tremendous news to tell you!”

Zhang Zhi happened to be in a period of low spirits with nowhere to apply his ambitions. Seeing his long-unseen friend, he was moved to tears. “Brother Liu, it’s been so long. How did you get here? Was the journey difficult?”

“Just think about how rough the road to your house is—of course it was difficult,” Liu Fang said, patting Zhang Zhi with a laugh. “What’s a grown man crying for? I’ve brought you good news; you can cry after hearing it.”

Zhang Zhi wiped his tears with his sleeve and nodded. “What good news do you have, Brother Liu?”

“Did you know the imperial court is about to implement the imperial examinations?”

Liu Fang spoke in a hushed, secretive manner, while Zhang Zhi listened, utterly bewildered. "What's this 'imperial examination'?"

Liu Fang's eyes lit up with a frightening intensity; he, too, had his own aspirations.

"The imperial examination is the court's open assessment to select talent from across the land. Those who pass the exams can directly become officials!"

After a moment of stunned silence, there was a heavy thud—Zhang Zhi fell over in a dead faint.

Onstage, as Zhang Zhi collapsed, Liu Fang and Zhang Zhi’s family scrambled in a panic, shouting his name and desperately applying pressure to his philtrum to revive him.

Offstage, after a brief silence, a buzz of voices erupted, growing louder and louder as everyone discussed the imperial examination Liu Fang had mentioned.

What kind of system was this, where one could obtain an official position through their own abilities in an exam, without needing recommendations from noble families?

The performance on stage continued.

The curtain fell on the chaotic scene at the Zhang house, then rose again to the sound of a shattering cup.

Qin Yueliang held a broken porcelain shard to her neck, her eyes flashing with a sharp, piercing light. She straightened her back and glared fiercely at her brother-in-law.

"I would rather die than marry Chen Ming."

Brother-in-law Chen frowned. "You studied together since childhood; you were childhood sweethearts, innocent playmates. What exactly is your dissatisfaction?"

Qin Yueliang gave a bitter laugh and retorted firmly, "Who is his childhood sweetheart? He's bullied me on the sly since we were young, later even pricking me with needles and threatening me. He is full of jealousy, resenting that I am smarter than him, fearing that I might surpass him, and dreading that I might outshine him. Brother-in-law, are you blind or deaf to think we were innocent playmates?"

"Is this how your teacher taught you to speak to elders?" Brother-in-law Chen said viciously. "Chen Ming was just a child and didn't know better. Boys will be boys; why take it so seriously? Being so petty and holding grudges, no one but Chen Ming would ever want you."

Qin Yueliang said coldly, "As if I care."

Brother-in-law Chen clearly didn't want to argue further. He issued an ultimatum: "In seven days, you either die or get married. You have no say in this!"

Qin Yueliang was trapped in the room, with no one coming and no food or water.

Her body grew extremely weak. She had lost track of how many days had passed when she finally bit into her own wrist to drink her blood.

She was parched and starving.

But she didn't want to die.

She still had many things left to do.

She especially didn't want to marry, and even if she did, it would absolutely not be to anyone from the Chen family.

She loathed the entire Chen family.

Qin Yueliang didn't know how long she had been unconscious when she woke to a noise at the window.

"Auntie, Auntie..."

Qin Bao scrambled in through the window and opened a waterskin filled with warm sugared water.

The moment the water touched her lips, Qin Yueliang couldn't control herself. She drank desperately, as if she were about to die the next moment, gulping the water down frantically.

After a while, she finally recovered. Qin Yueliang asked weakly, "How did you get in?"

Qin Bao replied honestly, "I put a sleeping draught in the guards' wine. I couldn't find the key, so I pried open the wooden boards sealing the window."

Qin Yueliang looked at Qin Bao's hands. "Are you hurt?"

Qin Bao shook her head.

For as long as she could remember, she had been strong, and she had always felt inferior because of it. Other little girls were dainty, but she could push people far away with a single shove. No one but her aunt would have anything to do with her.

But when she easily pried open the window boards, Qin Bao felt that her strength was the best thing in the world.

With great strength, she could save her aunt.

"Auntie, Qin Bao will take you away."

Qin Bao patted the sling bag across her body and whispered, "I took the land deeds and silver notes Mother hid, along with our household registration certificates and travel documents."

She then handed Qin Yueliang a steamed bun.

Qin Yueliang bit into the bun and quickly ate half of it.

Time was of the essence. Once her limbs felt less weak, Qin Yueliang led Qin Bao out through the window. The two of them, one big and one small, quietly slipped to a corner of the backyard, worked together to move a large stone, and squeezed out through the exposed dog hole.

They ran all the way to the town, and by then it was already daytime.

As they prepared to head to the prefectural city, Qin Yueliang noticed a notice posted at the city gate, with someone reading it aloud.

Drawn by the words "imperial examination," she stood with Qin Bao beneath the notice and listened to the entire announcement.

Imperial examination.

Imperial examination.

Imperial examination.

These two words seemed magical, lingering in her mind, impossible to shake off.

Qin Yueliang heard herself ask the clerk, "Can women also participate?"

The clerk replied directly, "If it doesn't say no, then yes."

Qin Yueliang almost instantly decided to take the imperial examination.

Her face flushed with excitement; she had found her best path forward.

But the imperial examination required five people to act as guarantors.

After careful consideration, Qin Yueliang sneaked back with Qin Bao to find Zhang Zhi.

By then, Zhang Zhi had regained consciousness and processed the news.

He too had instantly decided to take the imperial examination.

Regardless of success or failure, he had to try.

When Qin Yueliang arrived, Zhang Zhi guessed she also wanted to participate and had come to discuss the five-person guarantee.

He just hadn't expected Qin Yueliang and Qin Bao to have escaped from home.

After hearing Qin Yueliang recount her ordeal, Zhang Zhi finally understood why his student looked so disheveled and pale. He said angrily, "That Chen family is inhuman!"

"Don't worry, your teacher will vouch for you. Focus on preparing for the examination."

Qin Yueliang’s tight grip on her hem relaxed slightly. "Teacher, aren't you afraid the Chen family will come demanding me?"

Zhang Zhi held his neck stiff and declared, "Only evildoers have reason to fear."

Qin Yueliang cupped her hands and bowed to Zhang Zhi. "Teacher, you've helped me so much. I cannot thank you enough."

Zhang Zhi said earnestly, "I am your teacher. A teacher naturally helps their student."

To allow Qin Yueliang to prepare for the imperial examinations in peace and to make things easier, Zhang Zhi took Qin Yueliang and Qin Bao to the prefectural city.

Liu Fang and some other friends were there, and they could discuss their studies together.

Zhang Zhi's eldest son went along as well. His mother was worried that his father might faint again, and since his father was rather frail, it was better to have someone strong by his side.

The stage scenery changed rapidly, depicting the four stages of the imperial examinations.

Under the golden list, Zhang Zhi held his eldest son and sobbed openly.

He had passed!

He was a Jinshi! He could finally realize his ambitions!

Qin Yueliang stood quietly, tears silently streaming down her face.

She had passed. Beneath her feet, a path had opened.

Liu Fang was also elated. After years as a retainer, he was finally going to become an official.

On stage, joyful music played as the top three on the golden list paraded through the streets on horseback.

As the procession departed, the curtain was lowered.

The audience's chatter never stopped.

The nobility seated in the front rows had already sent people home to inform their families as soon as the examination segment was presented. After the drama ended, the entire process of the imperial examinations had been performed in comprehensive detail.

Even a fool could understand the process and significance of the system.

They hurriedly boarded their carriages and sped home.

Apart from them, no one else left the theater. Everyone gathered to discuss.

"What do you think 'Journey to the Capital for the Examinations' is trying to say?"

"What else could it be? The imperial examinations, obviously."

"I get that! I mean, what's the point of showing it to us like this?"

"Might we be getting imperial examinations too?"

"If we also had imperial examinations, I'm afraid talented individuals from every state who currently lack an avenue would flock here."

"Impossible. Would the great clans agree? According to the imperial examination system, it would be a crippling blow to them."

"I think State Preceptor Shen wrote this play and performed it in front of so many people; His Majesty couldn't possibly be unaware. Since His Majesty knows, it means he has approved. If His Majesty has approved, then it must be true."

"You're thinking too wishfully. Do you really think the aristocratic families are pushovers?"

"Why are you so pessimistic? Can't you think positively?"

"Ah, who doesn't want to think positively? It's just that this matter is too good and too big to dare hope for."

"Indeed. The imperial examinations are open to all regardless of background. Farmers, artisans, waiters—as long as they aren't of slave or merchant status—can all take part. Passing is like a carp leaping over the dragon gate, changing one's family fortunes forever. Who dares to dream of such a thing?"

The story of 'Journey to the Capital for the Examinations' was quickly compiled by spies from various countries in Youyang City and sent to their respective monarchs.

The imperial examinations appeared before the eyes of the various kings.

Just as Song Zijuan had anticipated, the aristocratic families could not suppress the news.

Except for a small minority, the vast majority of retainers were growing restless. The mood in Youyang City was unsettled, everyone waiting for a definitive confirmation or denial from those above.

Li Xing claimed illness and suspended court for several days, hoping to let everyone calm down.

The aristocratic families were anxiously pacing at home, practically jumping with frustration.

They never expected this play was aimed at them.

Seeing the public sentiment growing more volatile, they could delay no longer. Li Xing announced his recovery and resumed court sessions.

These past few days, Li Xing hadn't slept well either. He, Xie Yulin, and Song Zijuan were putting the final touches on the imperial examination system.

It needed to be finalized immediately after court resumed and then promptly issued for implementation.

Shen Yuan was also going to attend this grand court assembly.

Xie Yulin went to the Shen residence to fetch him. They started early, and Shen Yuan was so tired he kept nodding off in the carriage.

When they alighted at the palace gate, he stuck close to Xie Yulin, eyes closed, letting Xie Yulin lead him forward.

Even upon reaching the great hall, he remained attached, seemingly asleep on his feet.

Li Xing was polishing his beloved sword and instructed Attendant Cheng to bring some melon.

It was a tribute from the provinces and tasted quite good. However, he wasn't fond of sweets himself. Shen Yuan, being young, enjoyed such things.

Attendant Cheng brought out the sliced melon. Li Xing called out to Shen Yuan, "Have some melon to wake yourself up."

Shen Yuan caught a whiff of a sweet and fresh aroma and groggily opened his eyes.

He picked up a slice and took a bite. The flesh was crisp, juicy, and sweetly satisfying, effectively waking him up.

Feeling tired from standing, he simply squatted down to eat. Attendant Cheng had placed a cloth on the floor in front of him to prevent juice from dripping onto the wooden boards.

As the time for court approached, Shen Yuan could faintly hear the footsteps of the ministers outside.

Squatting in the great hall eating melon, he said, "Your Majesty, you promised that putting on this play wouldn't cost me a single scratch."

The Emperor held his sword. He was also tense inside. This was a bloodless war. Success would make everything easier going forward. Failure would make everything uncertain.

Emotions churned within him. Li Xing's thick brows furrowed. Though his face showed nothing amiss, his words stumbled as he spoke, "You are my—this emperor's brother's partner. Who dares touch you, I'll have their head."

Shen Yuan grinned, finished the slice in his hand, and wanted more but saw the plate had been taken away.

He turned to the handsome man beside him, "Xie Yulin, I want more melon."

Xie Yulin took out a handkerchief, squatted down to wipe Shen Yuan's hands, unconcerned whether his own robe hem touched the dust. He spoke coolly, "You've already had your share. Any more and your stomach will act up again."

Summer had arrived, and Shen Yuan craved cool things.

He’d had stomachaches a few times before from drinking chilled beverages and eating iced fruit.

Although this melon wasn’t chilled, it had a chill to it at this time of day, and eating too much of it wouldn’t be good.

Shen Yuan let Xie Yulin wipe each of his fingers clean, sighing softly. He acted like a father to his younger siblings, while Xie Yulin acted like a father to him—managing everything. It truly was a case of one thing taming another.

He mused, “Got it, Dad.”

Hearing this, Xie Yulin paused, his back stiffening and his ears quietly turning red, though his expression remained composed. “A-Yuan, you can have one more piece.”

Shen Yuan grinned. “Then you’ll have to wipe my hands again later.”

“Alright.”

Song Zijun stood opposite them, his gaze fixed on the pair, the curve of his lips unwavering—a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Li Xing glanced at Song Zijun, feeling a shiver of unease.

This Song guy was something else—if he couldn’t bear to watch, he shouldn’t look. Yet he insisted on watching, only to make himself miserable.

His smile was more like a grimace.