Chapter 9: Chapter 9: Participating in the Prefectural Exam
Liuu Town, Private Academy.
Today is the day of the academy entrance exam.
In the outer hall of the academy, the youths gathered, in groups of twos or threes, exchanging whispered discussions.
Off to one side, in a quiet corner, Chu Ming stood alone, calmly surveying his surroundings.
The outer hall was not large, arranged much like the classrooms of his previous life; at the head stood the teacher’s desk, below were low tables in rows, and round cushions for sitting cross-legged.
He stood in what amounted to the farthest corner of the classroom—not conspicuous, nor the focus of attention, with only a few fleeting glances cast his way.
But soon enough, he sensed an unusual gaze, and looking over, spotted a familiar figure in the crowd.
That person nodded and bowed a few words to those nearby, then ran over: "Brother Chu, you’ve truly co! I almost thought I was seeing things."
The newcor was Huang Lu, whom Chu Ming had encountered on the road days earlier.
Huang Lu’s face brimd with smiles, his eyes sparkled as he fixed upon Chu Ming, his arm draped over Chu Ming’s shoulder as if afraid he might run.
"Brother Chu, you’re here for the academy exam—I can rest easy now."
So you want soone weaker to make yourself look better, is that it?
Chu Ming made to push away Huang Lu’s arm, but his companion only pulled him in tighter.
"Brother Chu, you can’t leave! It took
ages to talk you into... the silver taels we paid are non-refundable..." Huang Lu’s eyes darted, "By the way, Brother Chu, you probably don’t know those fellows, right? Let
introduce them to you."
Did I ask?
Chu Ming glanced sideways with mild irritation.
Forget it—since there’s still ti to wait, I’ll listen.
"Look—see that group of seven or eight? The one wearing a scholar’s cap is Chix Lin, he’s been studying here for three years, and can recite poems from General Theory of the Book of Songs offhand."
"Brother Chu, see the one sitting to the left? That’s Guan Chong, he’s attended the academy for two and a half years—ask him anything from Essence of Classics and History, he’ll speak on it, he’s Chix Lin’s rival."
"And the one in a clean scholar’s robe—his background is even more distinguished. You know Mr. Luu, the academy supervisor this round? That fellow shares his surna; his na is Luu Xian, and his mory is exceptional... If only I were called Luu Huang..."
"As for the others... well, there’s no comparison." Huang Lu’s voice dropped even lower here, "Much less compared to , heh heh."
But the outer hall was small: no matter how much he tried to muffle his voice, soone heard him.
"Huang Lu, what are you muttering about over there? Selling your dad’s dicine again?" A youth half a head taller than Huang Lu strode over, grabbed his collar, then turned to Chu Ming and said, "Kid, don’t ever take that guy’s father’s dicine—eat it and you end up like him, ha ha!"
Hoisted off his feet, Huang Lu’s annoyance flared at the suggestion his father’s dicine was unsafe.
"My father is the only doctor in Liuu Town—when any of you fall ill, isn’t it him who cures you?"
"Brother Chu visits the brothel daily to hear songs, and used to be so weak he’d be blown over by the wind! After taking my father’s dicine, he can attend the academy exam now!"
"Isn’t that right, Brother Chu?" Huang Lu shot him an imploring glance.
"..." Chu Ming looked on dispassionately, saying nothing.
Seeing him keep silent, Huang Lu beca more anxious: "Brother Chu, help
out—did you recover thanks to my father’s dicine?"
This utterance was loud, but his next words were deliberately hushed: "Brother Chu, I know you like travelogues. I have so books even more thrilling than Sword Gourd Journey—say a few good words for , and I’ll lend you them for a few days..."
No matter how he tried, it felt like covering one’s ears while stealing a bell.
Who here had not heard?
The tall youth holding Huang Lu couldn’t help but snort: "Pff, no wonder you hang on Huang Lu—turns out you’re a brothel-goer and song-lover, fond of travelogues."
At this age, one should be reading in the academy; instead, he preferred travelogues and frequenting brothels—plainly not a youth of great ambition.
Chix Lin, wearing a scholar’s cap, shook his head and lost interest in the spectacle.
Guan Chong, for his part, turned away in distaste and picked up Essence of Classics and History to study.
As for Luu Xian, dressed in scholarly attire, he never so much as lifted his gaze from start to finish.
anwhile, in the courtyard beyond the outer hall, two n sat facing each other.
On the left, a middle-aged man whose features bore so resemblance to Luu Xian, also wearing a scholar’s robe.
Opposite him sat a man whose severe expression radiated a formidable presence.
The middle-aged scholar poured two cups of tea from the pot with reverence, then raised his hands in salute: "Lord Feng, I never expected you would co in person."
"Heh heh, I heard Mr. Luu Hong’s eldest son is to participate in this year’s exam, and since I happened to be passing through Liuu Town, I thought I’d pay a visit."
"If Xian learns you have co especially for him, he will be most delighted." Luu Hong saluted again with extra respect.
Feng Yuan’s gaze swept across the courtyard to the outer hall: "Mr. Luu Hong, whom do you reckon will take first place?"
"Well..." Luu Hong hesitated a mont. "My son Luu Xian, Chix Lin, and Guan Chong, any of them might win."
"And the others?" Feng Yuan sipped his tea as he asked.
"They still need to improve," said Luu Hong.
"Oh? That sowhat pale-faced youth—do you know him, Mr. Luu Hong?" Feng Yuan pressed again.
"Him?" Luu Hong followed the gaze, then gently shook his head: "I do not know that youth. But as Lord Feng must have just heard, he is of no scholarly worth."
"Is that so?" Feng Yuan rely smiled, saying nothing.
There were over thirty youths about to take the academy exam in the outer hall. To his eyes, each showed so degree of nervousness.
That madcap youth and the taller one were easily spotted as hollow of learning.
The others were sowhat better, though not by much.
Even those three Luu Hong had ntioned, each in their own way tried to mask their anxiety—a sign of insufficient confidence.
Lack of confidence denotes lack of ability.
Only one stood out—the pale, frail-looking youth, calm and unperturbed, as if not here for an exam at all.
Even when interrupted by others, he maintained rare aloofness.
Such temperant, at this tender age, is exceedingly uncommon.
Can this youth truly be, as that madcap suggested—a brothel-goer, song-lover, fond of travelogues?
Or... rely vacant in appearance?
Feng Yuan’s gaze flickered; he’d seen empty faces before—enviable for hiding emotion, yet the eyes betray the soul.
That youth’s eyes... were clear as spring!
"Mr. Luu Hong, since you deem three worthy of contesting for first, perhaps I might, on the basis of the academy exam, add another question."
Feng Yuan drew back his gaze, beckoned, and imdiately a nearby attendant ca forward and handed over a bundle.
He withdrew a well-bound, weighty book, and set it on the stone table.
"Lord Feng..." Luu Hong’s expression shifted slightly, though he grumbled inwardly.
This Lord Feng was the Classics Keeper of Baiyuan County, Senior Eighth Grade; adding a question, or ten, was all the sa—he, a humble town teacher, dare not object.
"Let us select three pages from this newly compiled Poetry, Politics, and Military as exam content; allow them to study for two hours, and then compete to see who rembers the most. What think you, Mr. Luu Hong?"
A test of mory?
Luu Hong had worried Lord Feng would set a question too hard, and his son Luu Xian would be at a disadvantage.
But hearing it was a contest of mory, he felt deeply relieved: "mory is indeed a talent—scholars must be diligent, but cannot lack in innate ability. Lord Feng, your proposed exam is most excellent."
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