Chapter 45: The Metropolitan Examination – Three Sessions of Toil Turn One into a Ghost

Seeing the woman’s frenzied, red-eyed state, the onlookers no longer dared to mock her. They scattered in fear, yet their curiosity prevailed. After hiding themselves, they still craned their necks to see what would happen.

Jiang Jinyao was equally terrified, completely forgetting his scheme to frame Jiang Qingshi as he turned to flee. But Fan Xiang’e, now consumed by rage, pounced on him and pinned him down. In that moment, she seemed possessed of supernatural strength, brandishing a kitchen knife as she hacked violently at Jiang Jinyao.

“My son!”

Feng Shi fainted at the bloody sight.

Fan Xiang’e, completely lost to bloodlust, continued striking Jiang Jinyao with increasingly savage blows…

Long after the incident, Jiang Zhimiao still shuddered at the memory.

That day, Jiang Jinyao was nearly chopped beyond recognition. Though Lin Guilan was also frightened, she covered Jiang Zhimiao’s eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, Miao Ge’er…”

It was only later that the bailiffs stepped forward to pull Fan Xiang’e away. By then, she was wild-eyed and disheveled, her laughter piercing and mournful. Seeing Jiang Jinyao in such a state, Magistrate Li could only summon a physician to treat him. Whether Jiang Jinyao would survive to stand trial remained uncertain.

Fortunately, the incident didn’t affect Father’s Metropolitan Examination. Shortly after celebrating the New Year at home, Father departed for the capital with Uncle Zhuo. Moreover, due to Jiang Jinyao’s attempted murder plot, Father’s reputation had grown even more. His past hardships were now brought to light… The villagers of Fanjiazhuang were shortsighted, failing to recognize a hidden dragon in their midst. But outsiders knew better – all of Linzhou now knew that Jiang Qingshi, the Recommended Man from Jiangping County, had been deprived of education by his family since childhood yet managed to become learned through self-study. The Fanjiazhuang villagers never realized how fortunate they were to have the God of Literature born in their village, instead ostracizing him daily and calling him a pretty-faced freeloader! Worse still, just as Recommended Man Jiang began achieving success, his ungrateful younger brother started scheming against him… even causing the death of his own unborn child. What a nest of vipers that family was!

It would be best for Recommended Man Jiang to sever ties with them sooner rather than later!

Now, storytellers throughout Linzhou were recounting Recommended Man Jiang’s tale.

Jiang Zhimiao, however, felt somewhat worried. Although Father had become famous and would inevitably cut ties with the Jiang Family eventually, he now faced the capital’s Metropolitan Examination. The current situation invisibly placed immense pressure on him.

Moreover, there were still no clues about who was behind the schemes against Father. Jiang Zhimiao constantly felt that some terrifying enemy was watching them from the shadows.

Mother also appeared burdened with concerns, though her worries seemed unrelated to Jiang Zhimiao’s, and he couldn’t decipher her thoughts…

Ah, he could only hope that everything would go smoothly for Father in the capital!

Since arriving together from their hometown Linzhou, Jiang Qingshi and Zhuo Zhiming had rented rooms in a quiet inn near the Ministry of Rites Examination Hall. They kept to themselves, declining visitors while finding solace in classical texts, patiently awaiting their chance to leap through the Dragon Gate.

The capital was nothing like Linzhou. Here, Jiang Qingshi finally understood what it meant for the capital to be expensive. Just one month’s expenses for him and Zhuo Zhiming were beyond what he had ever dared to imagine. Zhuo Zhiming came from a wealthy family, so supporting his studies posed no difficulty. But Jiang Qingshi relied entirely on Lin Guilan’s sacrifices. Whenever he thought of how Guilan had exhausted herself for his sake, the hardships of studying by lamplight through cold nights seemed insignificant.

Jiang Qingshi’s diligence even earned Zhuo Zhiming’s admiration. Seeing the frostbite and calluses on Jiang Qingshi’s hands, even Zhuo Zhiming’s typically impassive face revealed a flicker of surprise.

“Brother Jiang, this might affect your performance in the examination.”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Qingshi smiled. “My hands got frostbitten when I was young… and they’ve blistered every winter since. My family used to mock me, saying I hardly did any farm work yet my hands looked worn. This time, before I came to the capital, Guilan prepared an excellent frostbite ointment for me. It shouldn’t affect my writing when the time comes.”

Zhuo Zhiming had naturally heard about the incident between Jiang Qingshi and Jiang Jinyao. Being a man of few words, he struggled to find comforting words, finally managing after a long pause: “Many people have limited perspectives—they can’t recognize true greatness. Brother Jiang, things will gradually improve for you.”

Jiang Qingshi responded with a faint smile. He recalled how many years ago, not long after Feng Shi married into the family, she gave birth to Jiang Jinyao. The newborn was fat-faced and exceptionally ugly. Neighbors would laugh at Jiang Jinyao’s unpleasant appearance, often comparing him to Jiang Qingshi. Resentful, Feng Shi deliberately sent Jiang Qingshi to catch fish in the freezing river for Jiang Jinyao to eat… Old Master Jiang had clearly witnessed this but pretended not to see. It wasn’t until Jiang Yunxiu discovered it and confronted Feng Shi that Old Master Jiang could no longer ignore the situation and offered a mild remark: “Qingshi is older now, he should take care of his younger brother…”

Only now did he understand why Old Master Jiang had been so distant—he had long suspected Jiang Qingshi wasn’t his biological son. As for such a family, Jiang Qingshi had long since severed any attachment. It would be better to have no further relations, lest they become a burden later.

Once he rose above his station, he would immediately find a way to cut ties with the Jiang Family. After all, Jiang Jinyao’s incident had already become common knowledge. Even if he severed relations with the Jiang Family, people wouldn’t think he was being ungrateful after achieving success.

Unexpectedly, Jiang Jinyao’s outburst had actually helped him.

Time flowed swiftly like water, and in the blink of an eye, the day of the Metropolitan Examination arrived.

On the ninth of February, during the darkest hour before dawn, while the capital still shivered in the cold wind, Examination Hall Street was already illuminated by crowds and lanterns as bright as daylight. Thousands of Recommended Scholars carrying baskets and supplies formed a long queue, waiting to enter. Their baskets contained food, water, candles, writing materials, and even small inkstones—these would be their sole reliance in the coming days.

Jiang Qingshi rubbed his stiff, frozen hands and whispered to Zhuo Zhiming beside him: “Zhiming, I hope we both can endure these three sessions smoothly.” Zhuo Zhiming merely nodded slightly, his gaze calmly fixed on the imposing gates of the Examination Hall, his expression as serene as a meditating monk’s.

Suddenly, Zhuo Zhiming’s eyes shifted, glancing toward Jiang Qingshi’s hands.

“Your hands… are they alright now?”

Warmth spread through Jiang Qingshi’s heart. He hadn’t expected Zhuo Zhiming—usually so stoic—to be so attentive.

“No matter, I should be able to write now.”

“May we both pass with high honors, so we never have to suffer from winter chilblains again.”

Jiang Qingshi was slightly taken aback, never expecting Zhuo Zhiming to say such words. In his eyes, Zhuo Zhiming had always been detached and carefree, never showing any desire for wealth and status.

Jiang Qingshi shook his head with a smile, feeling that this version of Zhuo Zhiming suddenly seemed more human. His own mood lightened considerably as well.

“Inspection!” came the sharp cry of the clerk, and the queue began moving slowly.

This was nearly the final hurdle before leaping through the Dragon Gate. The process was so rigorous it bordered on humiliation: hair undone, clothes opened, boots removed—every possible hiding place for concealed notes was thoroughly examined. Though Jiang Qingshi had experienced this before, he still had to suppress his discomfort, silently reciting sage texts to calm his mind. Zhuo Zhiming remained expressionless throughout, cooperating with every inspection as if his soul had left his body.

After passing inspection and identity verification, the two found their assigned “nests” according to the examination cubicle layout. These were low, cramped brick compartments—barely four feet deep and three feet wide—each containing two wooden boards that could be arranged as a desk and bed. In early spring, the cubicles were damp and bitterly cold.

At the hour of Mao, drums thundered, and examination questions were distributed. The first session tested three principles from the Four Books and four principles from the Five Classics, all requiring responses in eight-legged essay format. This was the most crucial part of the Metropolitan Examination, largely determining success or failure.

Jiang Qingshi spread his paper and ground his ink, concentrating on analyzing the questions. Initially, ideas flowed effortlessly, his brush moving as if divinely guided. However, the cubicle conditions proved far worse than imagined. While tolerable during daylight, nighttime brought piercing winds through brick cracks, nearly freezing the inkstone solid.

His existing chilblains itched unbearably in the cold, forcing him to frequently warm his hands with his breath.

Flickering candlelight surrounded them, accompanied by constant coughing, sighs, and proctors’ footsteps—all severely disrupting concentration. Hunger pangs forced him to nibble cold rations. After a night of torment, when submitting his paper at dawn, Jiang Qingshi appeared hollow-eyed with cold, trembling hands as if recovering from serious illness.

Staggering out of his cubicle, he found Zhuo Zhiming waiting outside. Nian Chen smiled bitterly: “Truly, ‘three sessions of toil grind one into a ghost.'”

Even Zhuo Zhiming’s normally composed face showed strain, his sunken eyes resembling someone drained of vitality.

Already frail, Zhuo Zhiming drew concerned looks from Jiang Qingshi, who feared he might collapse any moment.

Zhuo Zhiming waved dismissively at Jiang Qingshi: “It’s nothing. Some rest will suffice.”

The tenth and eleventh of February offered brief respite. Zhuo Zhiming slept deeply at the inn, desperately recovering energy. Jiang Qingshi dared not relax, studying examination questions even during this short break.

February twelfth brought the second session.

The procedure repeated: inspection, cubicle entry, question distribution. This session tested one discourse, five legal judgments, and one imperial document composition, emphasizing practical administration and literary skill. Having endured the first session’s ordeal, Jiang Qingshi felt his stamina had significantly declined. Though his vocabulary remained polished, his writing lacked the sharpness of the initial session.

He forced himself to concentrate, pouring all his knowledge onto the paper. At night, the candle flickered, his head grew dizzy, and he dozed off at the desk several times only to be awakened by the cold. The biting chill and loneliness nearly eroded his will entirely. Occasionally, he looked up at the bright moon in the sky, thinking of Guilan and Miao Ge’er missing him from afar. At such moments, Jiang Qingshi felt a renewed surge of energy.

He was not fighting alone.

On the fifteenth of February, the final session of the Metropolitan Examination began. By then, Jiang Qingshi was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. This session tested five policy questions on classics, history, and current affairs, requiring broad discussions of past and present with original insights. When he picked up his brush, his wrist felt weak, his thoughts sluggish, and the chilblains on his hands itched intensely. Fortunately, Guilan had prepared a careful remedy for the chilblains; otherwise, if they had worsened, cracked, and bled, staining the examination papers, it would have been disastrous.

Knowing this was the final stretch, Jiang Qingshi suppressed all discomfort, squeezing out his last reserves of energy. He weighed every word, striving for depth of insight and clarity of expression. That day and night felt longer than the previous two sessions combined. His head throbbed with pain, and he nearly retched, but he forced himself to stay alert and complete the paper.

When the gong sounded to submit the papers, he could barely stand on his own. Leaning against the wall of his examination cubicle, he managed to rise, his vision blurring. In a daze, he had no memory of how he made his way out of the Examination Hall.

As the gates of the Examination Hall opened, Recommended Scholars poured out like a tide, most of them pale and emaciated. When Jiang Qingshi found Zhuo Zhiming in the crowd, the latter resembled a wandering ghost after days of ordeal, no longer the calm, gentle youth he once was. Zhuo Zhiming nodded weakly at Jiang Qingshi, and in each other’s eyes, they saw boundless exhaustion and a flicker of relief that the ordeal was finally over.

The days that followed were filled with anxious waiting. The examination papers underwent a rigorous and meticulous process: sealing, transcription, proofreading, grading by assigned examiners, and final decisions by the chief examiner. Jiang Qingshi felt he had not performed at his best, especially in the latter two sessions, where his condition had been poor. His heart was uneasy. Zhuo Zhiming slept for days on end in the inn, utterly silent. Sharing a room with him, Jiang Qingshi found it somewhat eerie and would check daily to ensure Zhuo Zhiming was still breathing and well.

On the day the results were posted, the area outside the Ministry of Rites was packed with people. It was the season when apricot blossoms were in full bloom, hence the list was also called the Apricot List.

Jiang Qingshi squeezed through the crowd, almost smelling the fragrance of apricot blossoms. His heart pounded like a drum as he eagerly scanned the long list of names written in vermilion. Finally, he found his own name—”Jiang Qingshi”—ranked near the top, in ninth place! A wave of overwhelming warmth instantly dispelled all his fatigue and anxiety, and he nearly wept with joy.

Zhuo Zhiming had also passed, though his rank was lower than Jiang Qingshi’s, around twentieth.

Just as Jiang Qingshi was about to speak to him, he saw Zhuo Zhiming looking up at his own name, two clear tears streaming down his cheeks.

Jiang Qingshi was genuinely startled.

It was the first time he had ever seen Zhuo Zhiming cry.

Pretending not to notice, Jiang Qingshi gently patted Zhuo Zhiming’s shoulder.

“Now we’ve both achieved what we wished for.”

“Mm.”

Zhuo Zhiming wiped his tears softly and nodded firmly.

The sunlight poured down at that very moment, and though the weather remained cold, both of them felt a warm glow. All the previous hardships had now transformed into steps leading to a higher hall. They had ultimately endured the physically and mentally exhausting battle of the Metropolitan Examination and earned the qualification to knock on the Son of Heaven’s door.

“This year’s top scorer is indeed Marquis Xie’s son, Xie Qinghe!”

“Young Marquis Xie is exceptionally talented. Though born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he carries no air of arrogance.”

“The Xie family now has a worthy successor. Marquis Xie must be at ease.”

Xie Qinghe.

Jiang Qingshi narrowed his eyes at the name, feeling a twinge of envy. To have one’s name towering high on the Apricot List, far ahead of the rest—what an honor.

But one must learn contentment. The outcome he had achieved was already something he had never dared to imagine before.

It was wiser to curb wild fantasies and focus on preparing earnestly for the Imperial Examination.