Chapter 35: Participating in the Provincial Exam

The atmosphere grew briefly stagnant. Ji Linxi looked at Huai Xiuyong’s gloomy expression, and for a fleeting moment, felt a prick of guilt—though it vanished as quickly as smoke.

From the dark look on Huai Xiuyong’s face, he gleaned the cause, and in his mind, he quickly reviewed his own recent behavior, immediately spotting the problem. As a student, his refusal of his teacher’s kindness had been expressed with a chilling calmness. Such calmness implied a kind of indifference, making it hard not to feel like he was “kicking away the ladder after crossing the bridge.”

After taking a moment to reflect, he finally spoke. “Teacher…” His expression held a mix of hesitation and disdain.

Huai Xiuyong watched him.

He continued, “It’s like this: I previously knew a young woman whose family signed a fish-purchasing contract with the government office. I’ve been helping her deliver fish. It only takes a little while each day, and she gives the student a bit of silver.”

In truth, he had thought it over and decided it was best to disguise himself and return to his old trade—finding a foolish, gullible young wealthy merchant and swindling a large sum of money. In Yongcheng, an ordinary job would earn twenty taels at most after a long period; for Ji Linxi, twenty taels might last half a year if he were living in poverty before he started studying, but now that he was a student, nothing was ever enough.

Huai Xiuyong’s expression softened. “The young woman you know, how much does she pay you?”

Ji Linxi replied respectfully, “The student doesn’t know for sure, only that it won’t be a low amount. I thought it was an easy way to earn some money without hindering my studies, so I thought I would ask.”

“It is the student who lied to the teacher. I was thinking that I couldn’t let the teacher worry, and I didn’t expect…” He paused at the perfect moment, his face showing a hint of shame.

Huai Xiuyong looked at him for a long time and said, “Since that is how it is, then go. But remember to come back before nightfall.”

Ji Linxi nodded repeatedly, wearing an expression of gratitude, though his heart was bitter. Now, even if he didn’t want to find Miss Zhao Yun, he had to. He only hoped Miss Zhao Yun still remembered a shred of the favor he had done for her and could help him maintain this lie. If she could actually give him a good job, that would be even better.

Ji Linxi remembered the address Zhao Yun had given him—a fisherwoman from Xunyu Town. Xunyu Town was not very far from the academy; it took half an hour by carriage. On the second day of the field break, he went.

The carriage jolted for half the journey. He sat inside reading, forced to hold onto the wooden window to keep his seat.

“Young Master, we have arrived at Xunyu Town.”

Ji Linxi put away his book, rubbed his aching backside, and poked his head out of the carriage. He handed some coins to the driver and jumped down with his bundle. As the driver whipped the horses and left, Ji Linxi scanned his surroundings. The driver had dropped him off at the market, which was bustling with people during a busy market day. He walked down the street, and near the end of the market, he spotted Zhao Yun.

The pretty young woman was with her parents. Just as someone wanted a fish, she skillfully pulled one out of a large wooden basin, tossed it onto a chopping board, and with a swift, forceful strike of the blade’s back, she began scaling it with practiced efficiency.

Ji Linxi glanced left and right before walking over.

Zhao Yun’s mother, a woman with a simple and gentle face, thought he was there to buy fish. She smiled kindly and asked, “Young Master, are you buying fish to take home to eat?”

Ji Linxi bowed. “No, I am here to find Miss Zhao Yun.”

Seeing the young man dressed as a scholar, with an exceptionally handsome face, Zhao Yun’s parents exchanged glances. Where did our Yun’er pick up such a romantic interest?

Hearing she was being sought, Zhao Yun looked up. She felt a vague sense of familiarity with Ji Linxi, but the face was entirely strange. “Looking for me? You are…?”

Ji Linxi smiled at her. “Miss Zhao Yun, I am Chu Xi.”

Hearing the name “Chu Xi,” Zhao Yun looked at his face, her eyes widening in disbelief. Chu Xi? Young Master Chu? She remembered Young Master Chu didn’t look like this. Wasn’t Chu Xi supposed to look ordinary with a hint of spirit?

The fish tail in her hand twitched slightly. She regained her composure and said urgently, “So it is Young Master Chu! Wait a moment, let me finish with this fish!”

With lightning speed, she processed the fish, wrapped it in lotus leaves, tied it with grass rope, and placed it in the customer’s basket. Zhao Yun wiped her hands clean and said with surprise, “Young Master Chu, how can it be you? Please, come in.”

Seeing Zhao Yun’s reaction, Ji Linxi knew his mission was as good as settled. The bumpy carriage ride had loosened his hair, and his shabby clothes gave him a somewhat destitute appearance. He looked around and whispered, “Didn’t that noble young master give you a reward of a thousand taels and sign a fish-purchasing contract with the government? Why are you still selling fish here?” He almost wanted to say he had seen her selling fish in the Yongcheng market last time, but he swallowed the words just in time.

“Could it be that the government office didn’t sign the contract with you?”

Zhao Yun smiled brightly. “The contract was signed, but I’ve grown accustomed to selling fish with my parents. If I don’t sell them, I just don’t feel at ease.”

Ji Linxi frowned imperceptibly. He felt this approach was too foolish. The beautiful noble had ordered the government to sign a ten-year contract—it was an incredible opportunity. If one had business acumen, this contract could be worth far more than ten years of fish sales; shouldn’t one be thinking of expanding the market, making money with money? To still be selling fish like this was a waste of a great opportunity. He didn’t understand Zhao Yun’s methods, but he kept his thoughts to himself. “I see.”

Zhao Yun’s parents had heard their daughter speak of this “Chu Xi,” and they felt grateful toward him. When they closed up the stall, they invited Ji Linxi to a restaurant for a meal.

Ji Linxi ordered a few random dishes and let Zhao Yun and her parents order the rest. Only then did he reveal his intent. Honestly, if he were more shameless, Ji Linxi would have considered “marrying up” to milk Zhao Yun for money. If it were the old him, he would have done just that. But after meeting the beautiful noble and Master Huai, he had been somewhat influenced.

If he truly acted as a swindler and deceived Zhao Yun, he feared that even if he eventually topped the imperial examinations, in the eyes of that beautiful noble, he would forever be nothing but mud rotting on the ground, so dirty that even a glance would soil one’s eyes.

Thus, the thought vanished as soon as it surfaced.

Ji Linxi would not forget why he was working so hard. Beyond fame and profit, he also wanted to climb into the beautiful noble’s bed. Both things were equally important to him—he could not abandon either.

He explained that he had passed the county and prefectural exams and was about to participate in the provincial exam, but he lacked the funds and wanted to find work. Thinking of the contract Zhao Yun had with the government, he wanted to see if there was anything he could do to earn money for the provincial and subsequent metropolitan exams.

Zhao Yun had learned his real name just moments before and was shocked. “Master Ji, have you already spent your thousand taels?”

She still had over seven hundred taels of the reward the young master had given her. If it weren’t for the new furniture and clothes she bought for her parents, she would have even more left.

Ji Linxi put on a look of shame. “I paid a high fee to enter the academy, and I’ve spent a lot on stationery and books. Now… I don’t have much left.” In truth, he had spent a fortune on high-quality white paper and scrolls to write his “erotica” about the beautiful noble. That paper was not only crisp and clean but also resistant to the elements. He wouldn’t let a single word of that slip.

When it came to spending money related to the beautiful noble, he found it impossible to be frugal.

“So that’s how it is.” Zhao Yun was a very grateful person. When she was locked in the woodshed at the Wang estate, it was Ji Linxi who saved her. She had kept that favor in her heart, and now that there was an opportunity to repay it, she naturally wanted to.

“How about this,” she said simply. “I will lend you the seven hundred taels I have left. You can pay me back later.”

Ji Linxi keenly used his peripheral vision to check the expressions of Zhao Yun’s parents and quickly refused. “That won’t do, it won’t do. Miss Zhao Yun, just give me a job I can handle.”

Just as Zhao Yun was about to speak again, her mother beat her to it. “Master Ji, do you know how to drive a carriage or keep accounts? If so, we are just short of such a person. The pay will certainly not be lacking.”

Hearing this, Ji Linxi’s face lit up with joy. “Yes, I know how.”

He expressed his sincere gratitude. “Thank you, Madam. I will never forget your kindness.”

Having secured a job, Ji Linxi bade farewell to Zhao and his wife and Zhao Yun, promising to start work the next day. He went back to the home of Huai Xiuyong and Mistress Qi to report the news.

“Will it hinder your studies?”

“No, Master’s Wife. Madam Zhao said that whenever there is a delivery, I will drive the carriage, and when I return, I will help with the accounts. The rest of the time is mine to handle.”

Mistress Qi laughed. “In that case, this job is even easier than your teacher’s work. Your teacher and I can finally rest easy.”

Huai Xiuyong buried his head in his meal and let out a cold snort.

This job was less like work and more like a gesture of repayment from Zhao Yun’s parents. Ji Linxi knew this. Every day, he would wake up, read, and travel to Zhao Yun’s house by carriage. When there was work, he did it; when there wasn’t, he read, practiced calligraphy, and studied poetry and strategy on the side.

He read fewer books but practiced calligraphy, poetry, and essay-writing more.

“If Master Ji passes the provincial exam, will you go to the capital for the metropolitan exam?” Watching him work hard outside, Zhao Yun suddenly asked.

Father Zhao, who had been resting his hand after a recent injury, replied, “If the provincial exam is passed, one must go to the capital. I heard that if you pass the metropolitan exam and rank high enough, you can even stay in the capital.”

“The capital…”

That young master was in the capital. If Master Ji went to the capital, would he be able to see him? Zhao Yun, who had almost forgotten the young master—only dreaming of him occasionally—found herself thinking of him constantly because of Ji Linxi’s reappearance.

She was her usual calm, cheerful self, though she would occasionally fall silent, staring blankly at Ji Linxi. Her behavior led her parents to believe that their daughter had fallen in love with him.

When their daughter wasn’t around, Mother Zhao frowned. “Yun’er doesn’t really like Master Ji, does she? But I don’t see any such intent from him.” Master Ji was focused entirely on the exams, spending all his spare time buried in books.

Father Zhao remained silent and thoughtful.

“But Master Ji is indeed a reliable person…” Mother Zhao continued. “If he had feelings for our Yun’er, we would be relieved to entrust her to him. But he knows of Yun’er’s past; I fear that might be a thorn in his side…”

Father and Mother Zhao were just ordinary parents; they wanted a good life for their daughter. This Master Ji was handsome, capable, hardworking, and had the potential to become a Juren—he was the perfect son-in-law.

For their daughter’s sake, they decided to probe. At the dinner table, Father Zhao poured a glass of wine for Ji Linxi and one for himself.

“Father, didn’t you say you shouldn’t drink?” Zhao Yun frowned.

“Just this once. I find Master Ji so agreeable that I want to have a drink with him.”

Zhao Yun couldn’t stop him. “Don’t drink too much, then.”

“Fine, not too much. Just two glasses.”

As his elder wanted to drink, Ji Linxi naturally complied. He raised his cup, lowered the rim, and clinked it gently against Father Zhao’s. “I offer you a toast, Uncle Zhao.”

After a swallow of wine, Father Zhao feigned drunkenness and complimented Ji Linxi: “Master Ji has an outstanding temperament, a phoenix among men.”

“May I ask, a man like you, do you have someone you like?”

Ji Linxi, feeling the wine, paused, and a hint of shyness colored his face. “I do have someone I like.”

Mother Zhao was stunned and then smiled, curiously asking, “I didn’t expect Master Ji to have someone. What kind of person is she? Can you tell us? If we know her, perhaps we could help act as a go-between.” There was a clear hint of suggestion in her words.

Ji Linxi gripped his wine cup tightly, tilted his handsome face, and closed his eyes. “The person I like…”

The figure of the beautiful noble appeared before him, and his Adam’s apple visibly bobbed.

“His skin is like white jade, his appearance is moving, he is like an immortal… he possesses a status beyond the reach of ordinary people, noble to the extreme…”

After hearing the description, Father and Mother Zhao knew it wasn’t their daughter. They instinctively looked at her, only to see Zhao Yun listening intently, curiously adding, “Sounds like a daughter from a high-status family. No wonder Master Ji likes him.”

“If it were me, I would like him too.” Sigh, the young master I like is also like Master Ji described—like an immortal, with a status beyond reach, incomparably noble.

Both sighed at the same time.

After the sigh, Ji Linxi said, “I am still a long way from him, but I hope to pass the imperial examinations and walk into his heart.”

A hint of envy appeared in Zhao Yun’s eyes. Master Ji still has hope of walking before that noble young lady through the exams, but I can only bury that young master in my heart, never daring to let anyone know, because I will never see him again in this lifetime.

The capital—that distant, magnificent place. The mere mention of it could fill one with unavoidable despair.

After the meal and the wine, Ji Linxi stood to take his leave. He walked toward the carriage station with his bundle. The drunken shyness was completely gone. The evening wind blew against his face, and the sunset reflected in his eyes, making him squint slightly.

As soon as Father Zhao opened his mouth, he knew the man’s intent. Rationally speaking, after Zhao Yun signed the contract with the government, someone like himself hooking up with her would have been a top-tier choice. But he was already obsessed with the beautiful noble; even though that person was as remote as the sky above, he was unwilling to give up his desire to climb to the heavens and pluck the moon.

After walking for a long time, he reached the station, boarded the carriage, and told the driver to head to Shangjiang Town, where Huai Xiuyong and Mistress Qi lived. He took a book from his bundle to read, but soon closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

In his dream, there were red candles and golden cups, layers of silk curtains, indistinct like clouds and mist. He held the beautiful noble, dressed in wedding robes, sitting on his lap, rocking back and forth…

Amidst the rattling of the carriage wheels, Ji Linxi drifted into a deep, pleasant dream, a blissful smile on his lips, while his collar became damp.

In mid-August, the provincial exam. The venue was set in Jiangling, the provincial capital of Jingzhou.

It took two days to travel from Yongcheng to Jiangling. Ji Linxi prepared early—dried food, spare clothes, and his book box, filled with everything he needed to read and write on the road. The box was full. Originally, Master Huai wanted to lift it onto the carriage for him, but upon bending over, he let out a stifled grunt, unable to lift it, even straining his waist, much to the amusement of Mistress Qi. Ji Linxi hurried over and grabbed it with one hand, placing it onto the carriage with ease.

Huai Xiuyong clutched his waist, gasping: “Why did you bring so much?”

Ji Linxi steadied him, looking guilty: “The student thought I should read a little more on the road, so I couldn’t help bringing a bit extra.”

“You… forget it.” Huai Xiuyong waved his hand. “Get in the carriage. I’ll have your Shiniang massage me later.”

“Very well, Teacher. I’m off.”

“Go, go.” Huai Xiuyong straightened his waist slowly. “Be diligent during the exam. If you truly pass the provincial exam and come back as a Juren, I will be a man of status in the academy from then on.”

Ji Linxi bowed obediently. He boarded the carriage for Jiangling. He was alone; lifting the curtains, he saw the vast darkness of night outside, with the bright moon illuminating the road ahead. He was getting further away from Yongcheng, and getting closer to the beautiful noble in the capital. At the thought of this, a scorching light burned in his eyes.

Late at night, the entire palace was plunged into darkness. Having finished reviewing the memorials, Emperor Jingwen set the last one aside, feeling a trace of exhaustion he could no longer suppress. He looked at the undeniable gray in his sideburns reflected in the bronze mirror on his desk.

“Someone,” he called out.

The curtains outside were lifted, and the eunuch Yu Jingnian hurried in, kneeling on the ground: “Your Majesty—”

Emperor Jingwen told him to rise. Yu Jingnian approached him, bowing, and asked obsequiously: “Does Your Majesty wish to see the signs?”

This year, a new batch of beautiful show-girls had entered the palace, and several had been promoted, but in terms of favor, no one surpassed the one in the Jinxiu Palace. A previously favored concubine had provoked Noble Consort An and was demoted the very next day.

In the past, the Emperor would have gone to Noble Consort An’s palace or picked a younger concubine, but today he felt no interest. Or perhaps, for some months now, he had slowly lost interest in such things; he only forced himself to linger in the harem to prove he was still young and strong.

On the bed, the concubines would praise the Emperor’s vigor. Chu Jing indulged in that praise, as if he were still in his youth. But the person he glimpsed in the mirror today shattered that fantasy.

He leaned back on the dragon chair, closed his eyes to rest for a moment, and said: “Go call the Crown Prince and the Sixth Prince. I wish to test their studies.”

Yu Jingnian was stunned, but lowered his head, bowed, and left the Qinzheng Hall to dispatch young eunuchs to summon the two princes.

A cup of tea later, Chu Yu and Chu Sui were outside the Qinzheng Hall. The doors opened, and they entered.

“Greetings, Imperial Father. May you live ten thousand years.”

Emperor Jingwen opened his eyes, his gaze landing on the two children he cared about most. “Rise.”

Chu Yu stood straight, and Chu Sui stood up beside him.

So young, Chu Jing thought. His two children were in the prime of their lives. But he was already beginning to age. The passage of time had left indelible marks upon him. Once, he had been proud and triumphant; now, everything was slowly drifting away from him. That was precisely why he couldn’t help but feel panic, wanting to grasp everything he could.

If one day he could no longer grasp what he could reach, he would have nothing left. An emperor with nothing meant his life was coming to an end.

But he was not resigned. Why was human life so short? Short enough that he had not finished enjoying the taste of power and desire before feeling the fear of being swallowed, engulfed, and discarded by them.

“Crown Prince.” He pulled himself together, straightening his spine to appear as majestic and indestructible as ever.

“Your son is here.” Chu Yu stepped forward and bowed. Under the candlelight, his face was calm and indifferent, his glass-like pupils reflecting the shiny floor.

“I hear you have been burying yourself in books in the Eastern Palace recently.”

“Hearing that the provincial exams were beginning, your son had some free time and read some books related to the examinations.” His voice was clear and calm.

“Sui’er, what about you?” Chu Jing looked at Chu Sui.

Chu Sui was startled for a moment, recalling the books he had read, and whispered: “Your son has recently… recently read the Book of Lord Shang and Zizhi Tongjian…”

Hearing their replies, Chu Jing smiled. “You are diligent. You’ve even read the Book of Lord Shang. Your mother told you to read that, didn’t she?”

“It was your son’s own desire to read it.” Chu Sui answered according to his mother’s instructions.

Chu Jing didn’t believe a word of it. His son was not a man who loved books; as a child, he loved play—cricket fighting, wood carving, puppet shows. Later, he was forced by his mother to study, but he hadn’t made much progress.