Chapter 69: The Exam

Chapter 69: The Examination

After two days of rest, Fang Mutian switched his private room for a spot in the big shared dorm.

His family couldn't hold a candle to his classmates' backgrounds, and since they'd be staying in the prefectural capital for such a long time, every bit of silver he saved counted.

Seeing that everyone had gotten over their seasickness, Yan Fengan suggested, "Let's go check out the exam hall first."

Manager Xu gave them directions. After crossing two streets and turning past a stone archway, the exam hall came into view, looking solemn and imposing.

Two grim-faced guards stood at the entrance. Before the examination period began, nobody was allowed to hang around the gates.

After quietly taking note of the area around the exam hall, Yan Fengan and the others took the letter of introduction from the headmaster of Lingyun Academy and went to visit Mr. Shen, a fellow provincial graduate from the headmaster's year.

This Mr. Shen was a head lecturer at an academy in the prefectural capital. Thanks to his friendship with the headmaster, he was pretty friendly toward them.

He not only treated them to a meal, but before they left, he handed them a thin booklet: "These are some top model essays from recent provincial exams. When you get a chance, flip through and see how they framed their arguments and tackled the prompts."

The examinees treated it like gold. That very night, they burned the midnight oil reading it.

Yan Fengan also flipped through it and found some approaches matched his own thinking, while others were completely different.

As for which was better or worse, he couldn't say. Writing essays was inherently subjective—who could say his own angle was the only right one?

Seeing his classmates copying and memorizing with brush and paper, he kindly reminded them, "It's good if reading these gives you some inspiration, but don't just memorize them by rote, and don't try to force them into your exam answers."

Zhou Mian kept copying as he replied, "Brother Yan, you're off base there. Since Mr. Shen gave us these essays, he must have his reasons. If we can really absorb these, it might save us some effort on exam day."

"Fair enough." Yan Fengan smiled and let it go.

As the autumn exam drew closer, more and more examinees flooded into the prefectural capital. In the first few days after Yan Fengan and the others moved in, the Qingyun Inn had just a few guests. But after July, lodgers came flooding in.

Once the shared dorm filled up, Manager Xu added a few extra beds in the hallway. The whole inn was packed.

Just after the Mao hour, people were already pacing the courtyard with books in hand, a few people sat under the eaves reciting under their breath, and some examinees huddled in small groups to discuss questions.

Yan Fengan worked just as hard as they did. He kept the same routine as at the academy—he got up before dawn every day to recite texts. When the morning light was good, he'd take out paper and brush to copy out the Four Books and Five Classics. In the afternoon, he wrote eight-legged essays (a rigid exam format). When there was still daylight left, he'd also pull out the model essay collection and try to imitate others' approaches in a practice piece.

After finishing, he looked it over carefully and felt more and more uneasy. Even with the same prompt, different people had different takes. If he followed someone else's thinking at every step, wouldn't that just be parroting others, like copying a toddler learning to walk?

Yan Fengan shook his head, crumpled up the practice essay, and tossed it aside.

He took out a fresh sheet and wrote down steps like "Framing the Argument," "Using Allusions," and "Wrapping Up." He absorbed the best parts of those excellent essays, then, following his own thinking, organized the techniques for each type of question in his own way.

Aside from occasionally trading practice questions with his classmates, he didn't take part in any other social activities. When you're in a low position, no matter how well you schmooze, people won't really respect you. To earn respect, you have to show real skill.

By August, with only a few days left until the provincial exam, Yan Fengan, who'd been studying intensely, gradually started to relax.

At this point, reading one more classic or writing one more essay didn't make much difference. The most important thing in these final days was to save his energy and get ready for the final battle ahead.

The provincial exam had three sessions, held on the ninth, twelfth, and fifteenth of the eighth month.

On the ninth of the eighth month, before dawn had fully broken, the inn was already buzzing. Crowds of examinees stomped hard on the floorboards, someone in the hallway urged his companion to hurry, and others frantically checked their examination baskets.

Yan Fengan carefully inventoried his belongings. Once he confirmed everything was in order, he picked up his basket and headed out.

A long line had already formed at the exam hall entrance. Lanterns swayed in the morning breeze, casting light on the tense, anxious faces of the candidates. Fang Mutian stood ahead of Yan Fengan, pressing his pale lips together, silently clutching his pounding chest.

When it was time to enter, the great drum at the gate let out a dull boom, and the long queue of examinees began filing through the guards' inspections one by one.

When it was Yan Fengan's turn, he loosened his clothes for the guard to check. The guard went through his basket and food box, squeezed his hair bun, and even took apart his brush handles to inspect them. Only after everything was checked did he wave him through.

Not long after he walked in, a commotion broke out behind him. Someone's smuggled cheat sheet had been discovered by the guards, who dragged the man out of the examination grounds.

Those caught before even entering—while they wouldn't be beheaded—faced at minimum the stripping of their scholarly titles and a permanent ban from the examinations. It really wasn't worth it.

So no matter what, one shouldn't entertain crooked thoughts.

Yan Fengan pushed the matter from his mind and found his assigned cubicle using his number plate.

The cubicle had been cleaned. Though the desk was old, there wasn't much dust. Yan Fengan took out his belongings one by one and arranged them, then sat down on the wooden plank bed.

He had been taking the prefectural examinations for years now, and in that time he had grown taller. Sitting down, his knees nearly pressed against the low wall opposite him, and stretching his legs out was nearly impossible.

The plank bed was also narrow—he'd have to curl up entirely to barely fit.

Yan Fengan took a deep breath and stopped complaining about the harsh examination conditions.

Soon, the first session began. After receiving the paper, he read the prompts three times, closed his eyes for a moment, ran through the approaches he had pondered before, and only then picked up his brush.

He had barely written two lines when a loud noise came from the neighboring cubicle—something seemed to have crashed to the ground, followed by the sound of muffled sobbing.

Before long, Yan Fengan heard footsteps as several guards came to ask the weeping examinee, "Can you still continue?"

When no answer came after a while, the guards carried him out of the examination grounds.

Incidents like this happened several times on the very first day. Some candidates fainted from exhaustion and were carried out, some broke down unable to answer, and others went mad mid-essay.

Those disturbances came through the low walls, carrying an indescribable oppression that made Yan Fengan's head spin and left him unable to think clearly.

He set down his brush and rubbed his throbbing temples. A jumble of images flashed through his mind—the years of toil by his parents and elder brother and sister-in-law, the grievances and neglect Wen Xi had suffered since childhood. He knew that only by passing the provincial exam could he truly elevate the Yan family's standing.

If he could endure those three years of torment and hopelessness with unwavering resolve, what were a few days of hardship compared to that?

When Heaven is about to assign a great task to a person, it must first torment his mind and exhaust his body. He thought, he could do this.

He had to.

For his family, and for all these years of his own hard work.

Yan Fengan calmed his mind, turned his attention back to the paper before him, and picked up his brush once more.

Once his mind was settled, his writing became steady. Aside from some nervousness in the first session, the latter two sessions were nearly seamless.

When the third session ended, it was already near dusk. After the ink had dried thoroughly, Yan Fengan carefully folded his answers, sealed them in the envelope, and handed them to the guard collecting the papers.

As he stood up, bracing himself against the doorframe of his cubicle, he first stretched his stiff limbs. Once his body felt less uncomfortable, he picked up his basket and shuffled out step by step.

A crowd of examinees had already gathered at the exam hall entrance. Some, pale-faced, were supported by companions; others collapsed to the ground after a few steps; still others clustered together arguing about how the day's prompts should have been answered.

Yan Fengan had no energy to listen. The exam was over, and he didn't want to think about anything now. He only wanted to get back to the inn, wash off the stench of days of sweat, and sleep soundly.

The innkeeper of Qingyun Inn had been thoughtful—hot water was delivered to his room as soon as he returned.

Yan Fengan scrubbed off the layers of grime that had accumulated over several days, changed into clean clothes, tumbled onto the bed, and slept like the dead.

—

Ever since Yan Fengan left for the prefectural capital to take the examination, the villagers of Daoxiang Village had never stopped gossiping about him in private.

During the harvest season, folks were out working in the fields, and when they sat down to rest, they couldn't help but talk about it.

One man took a gulp of cold tea, and the first thing out of his mouth was: "I heard that Sanlang of Carpenter Yan's family went to the prefectural city to take the autumn exam. Do you think he can pass?"

One person who genuinely hoped he'd do well said, "Yan Sanlang passed the county exam at sixteen; passing the provincial one shouldn't be too hard for him, right?"

"That's where you're wrong." Another man squatted on the ridge, wiping sweat with a cloth, looking like he'd been around the block a few times. "Passing the county exam just means competing against the child scholars in our own county. Passing the provincial exam means going up against every scholar in the whole prefecture. Yan Sanlang might have some book smarts, but he's a farmer's kid—how's he supposed to stack up against city boys who've had fancy tutors since they were little?"

"What you said is wrong," another person chimed in, displeased. "The provincial exam tests what you know, not how much money you've got. I think Yan Sanlang can pass."

An old lady chimed in, "Schooling costs a fortune. Heading to the prefectural city for the exam must set you back at least a few dozen taels of silver, right? The Yans sure don't mind shelling out the money. They already dropped a pile of silver getting Yan Sanlang a husband, and now they're supporting him for the exam. Don't his two older brothers and their wives have anything to say about it?"

"What objections could they have? As the saying goes, when one person strikes it rich, even the family's chickens and dogs get a leg up. If Yan Sanlang passes, won't his brothers and sisters-in-law get a piece of that glory too? Only a fool would object."

"Easy to say." Someone snorted. "I'm afraid they'll blow all that silver and he still won't pass. I'd love to see how his family deals with that."

"How would they deal with it? If he doesn't pass, he'll just take it again. The Yans are doing pretty well for themselves now. The men can do carpentry, and the wives and husbands can make money doing embroidery. Haven't you noticed? Half the village is depending on Wen Xi to get by these days."

"I'm afraid that good fortune won't last." A man with a shrill voice piped up, "If you ask me, if Yan Sanlang doesn't pass, fine. But if he does pass, the first thing he'll do when he gets back is dump his husband."

Someone hesitated and said, "You don't just toss aside the spouse who stuck with you through hard times. Yan Sanlang doesn't seem like that kind of guy, right?"

That man curled his lips, his voice dripping with a sourness he couldn't quite hide: "Men, when they've got no power, they put on this whole proper act. Once they get some, who knows what they'll turn into."

Chen Furlang, hearing this, said indignantly, "You black-hearted, rotten-tongued piece of work, do you think all men are trash like the ones in your own house? Master Yan's husband and Xi Geer are thick as thieves. Who asked you to stick your nose in?"

Shunzi's husband also planted his hands on his hips and shot back, "Exactly. You only got the nerve to say that behind their backs. If you've got any guts, go say it to the Yans' faces. We're all from the same village, and you still can't wish them well. You've wasted all those years, if you ask me."

The shrill-voiced man was left red in the face and stumped by their back-and-forth. Just as he was about to fire back, he looked up and saw the Yans coming down the ridge. He shut his mouth, slunk off, and made himself scarce.

Even without seeing that little scene, the Yans could guess what folks were saying.

That's just how village folks are—they look down on you when you're poor and get jealous when you're doing well. But the ones talking trash behind their backs were still in the minority. And with Yan Fengan still not home, they didn't have the energy to waste on that kind of nonsense.

This wasn't the first time Wen Xi had to deal with gossip. When he stepped out, he could feel those prying eyes on him.

If he were still that timid, weak little thing, he'd have cried his eyes out by now. But now, hearing all that talk, he just found it funny—didn't get to him much at all.

He packed up some incense and offerings and headed with Shen Yun to the Guanyin Temple halfway up the north mountain. He hadn't set foot in a temple or prayed to any god or Buddha since he was ten.

This time, for Yan Fengan, he dug up the faith he'd thrown away years ago. He didn't pray for Yan Fengan to pass the exam, and he didn't pray about their future either. He just hoped Guanyin Bodhisattva would watch over Yan Fengan, who'd been gone three months, and bring him home safe.

Maybe his prayers were sincere enough, because one day at the end of August, Yan Fengan came trudging back, dusty and worn out.

He showed up late at night, after the whole family had already turned in. When Wen Xi heard the knocking, he shot out of bed, threw on his robe, made sure he looked decent, and then rushed to open the bedroom door.

In the courtyard, Yan Fengan was surrounded by his parents and older brothers. Now that he was finally back, the whole family was over the moon, all talking at once and firing off questions.

Knowing they had a million things to say, Yan Fengan kept it short: "The results won't come out until September. Staying there would've just been burning silver, so I came on back."

Chen Lanfang, eyes all teary, said, "It's good that you're back. Look how thin you've gotten. These next few days, you should eat well at home. Are you hungry? Let me make you something."

Yan Fengan said, "I already ate in the county town. No need to trouble yourself. Father, Mother, go rest. I'll wash up first, and we can talk tomorrow."

Hearing this, Wen Xi turned to head to the kitchen, but Yan Fengan caught up and said, "It's too late. Don't light the fire. I'll just wash with cold water."

Wen Xi looked at him quietly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Seeing that everyone in the courtyard had dispersed, Yan Fengan reached out and touched his cheek. "Be good. Go back to the room and wait for me. I'll be there soon."

Only then did Wen Xi nod.

Back in the room, he lit the lamp. He didn't know how long he lay alone in bed before Yan Fengan finally slipped under the covers, bringing a chill with him.

The faint candlelight fell on Yan Fengan's profile, clearly showing his gaunt face and the new stubble that had grown in—a sure sign of how much he'd suffered lately.

Wen Xi was pulled into his arms and tilted his head up slightly. "Are you really my husband?"

Yan Fengan knew what he meant, but still found the question amusing. He kissed Wen Xi's forehead and said with a straight face, "I'm a mountain spirit in disguise, here specifically to eat tender young husbands like you. As for your husband, I wouldn't know him."

That kind of nonsense—it was definitely his husband. The faint unease in Wen Xi's heart melted away in an instant. He curved his eyes, wrapped his arms around Yan Fengan's neck, and hummed, "Husband, I missed you so much."

Though it wasn't their first time apart, Yan Fengan had gone so far away. How could he not worry, not miss him?

Yan Fengan pressed his head to his chest, resting his chin on top of his head. "From now on, your husband will stay by your side every day. How about not going anywhere?"

"Alright." Wen Xi knew those words weren't true, but that didn't mean he wasn't happy to hear them.

Remembering the gossip outside, he added, "They all say that if you pass the provincial exam, you'll come back and divorce me."

Though he didn't take those words to heart, he still had to report the grievance.

Yan Fengan raised an eyebrow. "Whose mouth is so annoying? Tell me, and tomorrow I'll go door to door and give each of them a big slap."

Wen Xi laughed in his arms. "Husband, you're so fierce."

Yan Fengan turned over and pressed him beneath him, burying his head in the crook of his neck. After taking a deep breath of his scent, still not satisfied, he pressed several kisses there before murmuring softly, "I love you too much to divorce you. By that logic, if I fail the exam, would you kick me out?"

Wen Xi said nothing, only wrapping his arms and legs tightly around him, not giving him a single chance to pull away.

Having traveled by boat and on foot, Yan Fengan had no energy for anything else. After kissing for a while, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The results of the exam hadn't come out yet, and the Yan family didn't ask further. Yan Fengan discussed with them that regardless of the outcome, he didn't plan to go back to the academy.

If he didn't pass, he'd find work first—whether as a teacher at a private school or selling calligraphy and paintings on the street—he had to earn some silver to support himself.

Yan Shichang, hearing that he'd already planned his fallback, sighed helplessly.

Judging by this, it seemed their third son's hopes of passing the provincial exam were slim. When he had time, he'd go to the town's private school and see if he could find a position for him.

Disappointment was inevitable, but life had to go on. Their third son had already achieved more than others by passing the county exam. Even if he didn't pass the provincial one, they weren't any lower than anyone else. No need to sigh and fret all day.

Knowing he felt even worse inside, the Yan family tacitly stopped mentioning the matter.

Within two days, everyone in the village knew that Yan Sanlang had snuck back in the middle of the night. Though there were those who gloated and gossiped, there were also plenty who genuinely wished them well.

Neighbor Aunt Li and Granny Wang's families had always been close to the Yans. Sympathizing with Yan Fengan's hardships during the exam, they sent over the eggs they'd saved up.

Shunzi's husband and He Dong, who worked under Wen Xi, also brought over some vegetables. When they heard malicious mockery in the village, they'd stand up and curse back on behalf of the Yan family.

Since they insisted on giving, refusing would seem ungrateful. Chen Lanfang accepted the gifts and silently kept a mental ledger. If anything happened to these families in the future, they should help in return.

Yan Fengan saw the worries of his family and the reactions of the villagers. He wanted to remind his parents that the results hadn't been announced yet, and he might not necessarily fail.

But he was afraid that giving them hope would only make the fall harder if it came to nothing. If that happened, the blow to his family would be even heavier, so he said nothing more.

The osmanthus flowers in the courtyard were in full bloom. Wen Xi wanted to pick some to make osmanthus cakes and osmanthus honey.

The osmanthus tree was a bit tall, and the flowers at the very top, in full bloom, were out of reach even when he stood on a low stool.

Yan Fengan leaned against the doorframe, watching for a good long while. Only when Wen Xi turned back with a defeated look did he approach with a smile curling at his lips.

Wen Xi thought he had come to help and was about to step down from the stool, but Yan Fengan suddenly crouched in front of him, patting his own shoulder and saying, "Hop on."

Wen Xi froze for a moment, and once he understood what he meant, the tips of his ears quietly turned red. "Forget it, people might get the wrong idea if they see us."

Yan Fengan couldn't care less what people thought. "Why would it be awkward? We gotta let 'em know that in this house, only you get to sit on top of me—I'd never bully you. Come on, my legs are falling asleep."

Wen Xi hesitated briefly, then after a moment of deliberation, swung a leg over and settled onto his shoulders.

Yan Fengan held his knees and slowly stood up. Wen Xi let out a small gasp and wrapped his arms around his head in a panic.

Once Yan Fengan was steady, his view suddenly shot up high. He gradually relaxed, patted the top of Yan Fengan's head, and looked down, saying, "Husband, you have to hold me steady."

Yan Fengan chuckled. "Just pick the flowers, you're not gonna fall."

With that assurance, Wen Xi stopped being afraid and directed him to move a little closer to the osmanthus tree.

The morning osmanthus hadn't yet been warmed by the sun, and plump, fresh blossoms were packed tightly together. As Wen Xi leaned in, the rich scent smacked him right in the face.

He reached out and plucked a dense cluster, bringing it to Yan Fengan's nose for him to sniff. "Smell good?"

Yan Fengan replied, "Mmm, yeah."

Hearing that, Wen Xi smiled brightly and brought the blossoms back, stuffing them into the little cloth pouch at his waist. A few petals slipped through his fingers, falling onto Yan Fengan's hair and shoulders. Wen Xi bent down to pick them up, and Yan Fengan deliberately swayed, startling Wen Xi into clinging to him again.

Once the scare passed and his heartbeat slowed, Wen Xi would reach out and pinch Yan Fengan's ear, playfully scolding him for being such a pest.

Meanwhile, on the main road outside Daoxiang Village, three messengers on horseback were galloping toward the Yan family's home. The one in the middle carried a large crimson silk banner with the words "Good News" embroidered in gold thread, fluttering wildly in the wind. The two flanking messengers each held a bronze gong, and the moment they entered the village entrance, the gongs went "clang, clang, clang" through the village.