Chapter 17: The Imperial Examination

Yuehua didn’t linger for long. After drying Jiang Qionglin’s waist-length hair, she left.

Before departing, she took a dagger from her maid, An Su Yun, and placed it under Jiang Qionglin’s pillow, saying, “If anyone humiliates you in the future, use this to protect yourself.”

“...” Jiang Qionglin lay face-down on the bed, nodding absently.

After Yuehua left, Jiang Qionglin picked up the dagger and examined it carefully.

The dagger was slender, with both its scabbard and hilt made of black jade. It felt cool to the touch, and a crimson gemstone was embedded at the base of the hilt, making it appear quite valuable.

He unsheathed the dagger and placed a strand of his hair on the blade. The moment the hair touched the edge, it snapped cleanly. He thought to himself, “Since it can cut through hair so effortlessly, it might even slice through metal like butter. And if not, injuring someone would be child’s play.”

Holding the dagger, Jiang Qionglin felt as though he had been given a talisman. A strange, indescribable emotion filled his heart, and for the first time since being in Huan Yi Pavilion, he slept soundly.

In the days that followed, no one disturbed Jiang Qionglin—not even Yuehua. Madam Xu sent people several times to check on him, but Jiang Qionglin pretended to still be ill.

Three days later, Yuehua sent her maid, Su Yun, with a document. For the first time, Jiang Qionglin left his room and went downstairs to retrieve it.

Madam Xu reached out several times, wanting to take a look, but Jiang Qionglin blocked her each time.

“It’s just a love letter, Madam Xu. Did you think it was a banknote?” Jiang Qionglin chuckled.

Madam Xu flicked her handkerchief and chided, “Go on, I have so many southern pearls—one is worth ten banknotes. Do you think I care? Besides, you scholars always use such obscure language, twisting words into riddles. I couldn’t be bothered to read it!”

“Then I won’t disturb you, Madam. I’ll head back to my room,” Jiang Qionglin said cheerfully, bounding up the stairs in just a few steps.

Back in his room, he eagerly opened the document, only to find that it wasn’t a love letter.

It was a scroll made of silk, with imperial dragon motifs embossed in gold around the edges. In the center were three large characters: Scholar’s Writ , followed by his name and a line of smaller text.

Jiang Qionglin’s hands trembled as he held the silk, his expression frozen. It wasn’t a love letter, but it was far more thrilling than one.

The excitement was overwhelming, leaving him unable to believe it entirely.

This was the pass for the palace examination—the admission ticket for the imperial examination! If he passed the selection process, he could potentially achieve the highest honors, even becoming the top-ranked scholar.

The date written on the Scholar’s Writ was fast approaching, though it hardly needed to be stated—everyone already knew which day it was.

There were less than seven days left. Suddenly, Jiang Qionglin no longer felt like studying or practicing calligraphy as he usually did.

His talent was widely acknowledged, and he had already prepared extensively for the imperial exams. He was confident in his abilities.

At this moment, he only wanted to figure out whether this document was real or fake.

Jiang Qionglin stopped pretending to be ill. That night, he sat in the pavilion as he used to when he was an unattached courtesan, playing the zither at the front of the hall.

Once word spread that Jiang Qionglin was performing again, the news traveled quickly, and soon Huan Yi Pavilion was packed with guests once more.

For seven consecutive days, Yuehua never appeared.

On this particular evening, the pavilion was nearly deserted, with only a few widows sitting in the hall. This was because the next day marked the triennial imperial examination, and most women of influence were busy preparing their clan’s young men for the event.

Only then could Jiang Qionglin clearly hear the conversations of others.

At the table nearest to him, one woman said, “Lady Zhang has been fuming for days over Jiang Qionglin not belonging to her during the Kaiyuan Festival.”

“Isn’t that right? But isn’t he still an unattached courtesan?”

“He must’ve been taken in by someone else, but no one knows who.”

“Hey, have you heard? I don’t know whom Minister Zhang offended, but he’s been transferred to the northern frontier. Though they say it’s a promotion, in reality, he’s lost all his power in the capital. From the looks of it, he won’t be returning anytime soon.”

“Such a thing actually happened!”

“No wonder Lady Zhang hasn’t hosted a banquet for seven days since causing a scene at Huan Yi Pavilion. Turns out something happened at home.”

“Now that’s settled. No one will be bossing us around anymore. We can finally relax.”

The speakers were casual, but the listener was attentive. Jiang Qionglin, seated nearby and playing the zither, absorbed every word.

His heart raced with astonishment.

Minister Zhang’s career had been flourishing, and Lady Zhang was deeply favored by the emperor. How could they suddenly fall from grace?

He wasn’t naive enough to believe it was sheer luck or divine intervention working in his favor.

Something was amiss.

Could it be that girl... what was her name? Something like Di Jiang.

Jiang Qionglin pondered this but quickly dismissed the thought.

The Scholar’s Writ had been delivered by Yuehua’s maid, Su Yun. The day Lady Zhang acted as though she’d seen a ghost was also the day Yuehua left behind that pouch of southern pearls...

Returning to his room, Jiang Qionglin took out the two pearls again and examined them closely. Aside from being larger and smoother than those sold in the eastern market, they appeared ordinary. He couldn’t discern any hidden secrets within them.

What on earth was going on?

The doubts in Jiang Qionglin’s heart grew stronger, but they did not affect his examination in the slightest.

The next day, the sun shone brightly, and a gentle breeze swept through the air.

Jiang Qionglin rose early and asked Madam Xu for leave, saying he wanted to go out for some fresh air.

Madam Xu didn’t think much of it. With that pouch of southern pearls in hand, even if he ran away, she wouldn’t be at a loss. Lately, she had been keeping a looser watch on him.

Jiang Qionglin changed into clean clothes, tucked the Scholar’s Writ into his pocket, and headed to the eastern examination hall with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

Outside the examination hall, the place was already packed with candidates. They gathered in small groups, chatting and waiting for the gates to open.

The main entrance of the examination hall consisted of three wooden gates. The central gate was five bays wide, with a red plaque bearing black characters that read “Examination Hall.” To the left was inscribed “Open Door,” and to the right, “Seek Talent.” A pair of stone lions stood before the gates, flanked by two arches bearing the inscriptions: “Selecting Scholars Through the Classics” and “Seeking Virtuous Men for the Nation.”

“Boom—boom—boom—” Three deep gongs echoed, and the three gates slowly opened. A group of officials emerged and sat beside the gateposts. The candidates then stepped forward, presenting their documents and filing in one by one.

Under the sidelong glances of others, Jiang Qionglin was the last to enter the gates. Even after handing over his document and being ushered inside, he still felt as though he were dreaming, walking on clouds.

“What are you standing around for? Hurry up and go in! The exam is about to begin! Get ready!” An official prodded from behind, snapping Jiang Qionglin out of his daze. He quickened his steps and moved forward.

As he walked, he noticed two pavilions inside the gates, each bearing inscriptions: “Orderly” and “Solemn.” To the east and west were three rooms apiece, serving as resting areas for officials.

Further west was another gate, facing an intricately carved screen adorned with coiled dragons. This screen was where the “Golden List” would be posted. The Golden List, issued by the emperor when the chief examiner left the capital, was surrounded by intricate carvings of dragons and phoenixes, auspicious clouds, and bore the imperial seal at the top, symbolizing the nation’s emphasis on talent.

Everything was solemn and majestic.

Jiang Qionglin followed the others into the main hall, where an official called out, “Name?”

“Jiang Qionglin.” As soon as he spoke, someone turned to look at him. Just one glance confirmed that this Jiang Qionglin was indeed the legendary figure everyone had heard of.

“Fair skin, handsome features, eyes like autumn waves”—this was the first impression of Jiang Qionglin for all who saw him.

Under the gazes of others, he took his seat. The faint scent of ink wafted through the air—a familiar smell, the scent of books.

At that moment, he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

Around him were fellow candidates. While some were wealthy sons of noble families, most came from humble backgrounds, their attire plain and somewhat rustic.

Jiang Qionglin’s clothing, though beautiful, stood out too much compared to theirs—it was too bright.

So bright that at a glance, it was clear he had spent time in a pleasure house. The embroidery on his clothes resembled the garb of courtesans.

“Is that Jiang Qionglin?”

“Truly, comparing oneself to others can drive one mad.”

“How can someone from the lowest class take the imperial exams?”

“Isn’t he an official slave?”

Whispers filled the air, but the opinions of others didn’t faze him.

He knew well that no matter how powerful Yuehua’s influence might be, this imperial examination was his only hope.

Once the exam began, he opened the test paper. After reading the questions, he barely paused before picking up his brush, writing as if possessed, his mind swirling with thoughts.

Compared to the delicate flattery and forced smiles he performed in the pleasure house, wielding a pen and writing was what he excelled at most.

Jiang Qionglin was the first to finish his exam, yet the last to leave the hall. He felt that every extra second spent there was a rare blessing.

After leaving the examination grounds, he walked beneath the screen where the Golden List would later be posted. Carved into it were dozens of names—the names of those who had achieved the highest honors in the imperial exams since the founding of the dynasty.

He reached out, gently tracing the engraved characters with his fingertips, caressing them as if touching a newborn child, something he cherished deeply. Though he had never been a father, he once had a younger brother. His brother, still an infant, had perished in the fire that claimed his family.

He was the sole survivor of the Jiang household.

His father had served under the salt commissioner of Jiangnan, holding a prestigious post with a comfortable salary. Their family had always lived well—until three years ago, when a mysterious fire erupted in Jiangnan, destroying the imperial granaries. His entire family perished in that fire, leaving only him behind. He was made the scapegoat, branded as a criminal, reduced to an official slave, and sold off repeatedly.

Was he a pure courtesan?

Yes, after coming to Huan Yi Pavilion.

But before that... what he had endured was ten times darker and more revolting than anything in the pleasure house.

He had never been a clean person. Far dirtier than Yuehua could have imagined.

But it didn’t matter. It was all in the past. By the time the results were announced, his name would surely appear on this wall. He was absolutely confident, utterly certain.

Jiang Qionglin lingered until just before the gates of the examination hall closed before finally leaving. He suddenly didn’t want to return to Huan Yi Pavilion so quickly, but he also didn’t know where else to go or what to do next. Everything seemed forgotten.

His mind kept circling back to everything he had seen in the examination hall—from the tables to the smallest details, like the iron paperweights and brush holders on each desk. Every detail was vivid in his memory, reminding himself not to forget.

This was the most beautiful dream he’d ever had. Even if he woke up tomorrow and returned to his wretched existence, these years wouldn’t have been in vain.