Chapter 380 Results Announcement

Chapter 380: Release of the List

With the new emperor ascending the throne, the imperial court could be said to have been turned upside down. The government urgently needed fresh blood, and this year's metropolitan exam admitted a greater number of candidates than in previous years.

The examiners had been busy in the examination hall for over half a month before finally finalizing the rankings.

The sealed names, native places, and other details were unveiled one by one. Song Tingzhou paced back and forth inspecting the room. As the registrar copied the rankings in order, he circled several names with his vermilion brush and said coldly, "Strike them off."

Wang Zan of the Censorate and Li Liansong of the Hanlin Academy exchanged a look of unease. Wang Zan spoke cautiously, "Lord Song, what is the meaning of this?"

Song Tingzhou had already been in the examination hall for two months. The food and lodging weren't awful, but they were far from comfortable. A layer of black stubble had grown on his chin, and his leaner face looked even colder and sharper than before. When he looked down at people, his brow had a cold, aloof look, his bearing restrained and deep, so people couldn't hold his gaze for long. "This is His Majesty's will. I trust both of you will keep this strictly confidential."

Lord Ran also rose from his seat at the head. He was advanced in years; for this examination, the emperor had appointed him chief examiner more to use his reputation as a deterrent. The old man would occasionally spot-check a few policy essays, while Song Tingzhou handled most matters in the examination hall.

But now Song Tingzhou wanted to remove candidates from the pass list—a matter that could shake the heavens. Wang and Li didn't dare take it lightly, and both looked to Lord Ran to gauge his reaction.

Lord Ran glanced at the names Song Tingzhou had circled, without showing any particular surprise. Instead, he nodded in agreement and said, "Don't panic, my lords. Do as Lord Song says. His Majesty has his own plans for this. You'll understand when the palace examination rolls around."

Wang Zan's mind worked fast. As one of "their own," he looked at the surnames and immediately had a hunch. He said decisively, "Then we'll defer to Lord Song's decision."

With him having spoken, Li Liansong, though utterly bewildered, said nothing more.

—

On the sixth day of the third month, officials of the Ministry of Rites stamped the official and duplicate lists with the ministry's seal and handed the sealed lists to the supervising official, to be jointly guarded with the inspection official.

At the hour of Mao (around 5 to 7 AM), the supervising and inspection officials carried the sealed lists to be posted outside the examination hall. The moment the apricot list went up on the outer wall, a flood of people surged forward.

Every three years, the metropolitan exam saw a grand gathering of scholars from all over the realm. Those who passed shot straight to the top; those who failed had to bury their heads in books for another three years.

None of the Luo family's four direct heirs showed up in person, sending only two servants to check the list. The servants squeezed to the front anxiously, then slunk back dejectedly after a while. Luo Zhan saw their faces from a distance and guessed no one from the Luo family had passed. He sighed but said nothing, while Luo Yingcheng looked utterly crushed, as if all hope was lost.

Since leaving the examination hall that day, he felt he'd lost all face. He'd holed up in the inn for half a month without stepping outside, and not one of the imperial candidates he'd once chatted with so amiably had come to visit.

The more arrogant he'd been before, the harder it was to bear the fall now. For the exam he'd valued so highly, it was like grabbing at a lifeline—if he truly passed, at least things wouldn't look too ugly. But if he failed...

Luo Yingcheng had pinned his hopes on the spring list. Burying the torment in his heart, he stepped out of his room. The moment he exited, he felt like people were staring at him and mocking him. Whenever anyone gave him a second look, his heart felt like it was crawling with ants, sour and unbearable.

Now, hearing from the servant that he had indeed failed, he couldn't take it. He grabbed the carriage, his vision going dark, a sweetness rising in his throat—and he actually coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"Yingcheng!"

"Master! Master, what's wrong with you!"

"Hurry to the medical hall and fetch a physician!"

Some rejoiced, others grieved. How many besides Luo Yingcheng were in agony and despair before that spring list?

Those who passed were surrounded by family and friends, cheering with joy. Those who failed stood dazed in corners, staring again and again at the dense rows of names on the list, their eyes nearly bleeding with anguish.

Deep within the examination hall at this moment, the examiners led the effort to organize all the red and black examination papers, draft rankings, and grading annotations, sorting them into boxes and sealing them. The seals bore notations for the first year of Xuanzheng's reign. Since the Ministry of Rites had no minister, only a newly appointed vice minister was running things, Lord Ran personally delivered the materials to the ministry's archives for safekeeping.

In addition, the Shuntian Prefecture was to host a "thank-you banquet for the examiners" to summarize the examination affairs, after which Song Tingzhou, as Prefect of Shuntian, would present gifts of gratitude.

Giving thanks and gifts to yourself—now that was a rare sight.

This wasn't about socializing; it was mainly about wrapping up the ceremonial side of the exam process. Everyone just went through the motions.

Afterward, the four chief examiners took the exam summary documents into the palace to report to the emperor on the detailed process of grading and finalizing the rankings.

After the four entered the palace, aside from Li Liansong—the all-purpose Hanlin academician who had participated in previous spring examinations—among the remaining three, Lord Ran was the emperor's maternal uncle, while Song Tingzhou and Wang Zan were the emperor's trusted confidants.

Li Liansong, seeing that Lord Ran, being advanced in years, had already left to rest at home, but that Song and Wang showed no sign of moving, keenly sensed something was up. He hastily begged the emperor's pardon, saying he missed his infant grandson at home and wanted to go back. Once the emperor gave his permission, he made a quick getaway.

Song Tingzhou wanted to go home even more than Li did. Before the emperor could ask, he stepped forward and reported, "Your Majesty, the Wu family didn't send any clan members to the capital for this exam, not even distant branches."

The emperor sat straight on the dragon throne. Even though the hall held only a few eunuchs bowing low, not daring to look at his face, and two close ministers, his back stayed straight without being stiff—the natural bearing of royalty.

"Wu Wei must have made some arrangements before he died. Otherwise, even if the Wu family head didn't send clan members, he'd have sent outsiders to the capital to check things out."

The emperor's fingertips tapped lightly on the dragon-carved armrest of the throne. His voice was steady, without the slightest ripple, yet carried an unshakable authority: "Very well. Since I promised the Wu family a chance to survive that day, when the court audience comes at year's end, send that nephew of his who went home for mourning—post him out somewhere."

From what the emperor said, that former Minister of Rites who'd once wielded power for half his life had, before dying, willingly served as a stepping stone for the new emperor—all to leave his clan a brief respite.

Wang Zan's heart tightened. He instinctively glanced at Song Tingzhou beside him. The man was steady and mature, his expression guarded, standing quietly before the throne listening to the emperor's decree.

"...When it comes to implementing the Equal Field Edict, no one's more suited than you. As long as the south goes smoothly, the north can follow suit."

But every beginning is hard. Song Tingzhou had been able to stir up that stagnant pool of Lingnan back then, but the entire south, where the great families were entrenched, wasn't stagnant water—it was murky water.

The emperor's gaze fell on Song Tingzhou, full of ambitious expectation. "I know this task is tricky. The southern great families are deeply tangled, and they'll never easily give up the interests they've already swallowed. On this mission, you must proceed step by step—make the edict take root without stirring up too much public resentment, and watch out for those old foxes secretly making trouble. If you hit resistance, you can submit secret memorials directly. I'll back you."

The emperor wasn't making Song Tingzhou a one-way arrow with no return, but honing him into a blade that could both carve new territory and be sheathed at will—to cut a clear path through the murky waters of the south. This wasn't just the ultimate trust in Song Tingzhou's abilities, but a high-stakes gamble on the very foundation of the new dynasty.

The Equal Field Edict—three simple, plain words—behind them lay tremendous weight: the livelihoods and fates of countless people, and a reshuffling of the power structure at court.

Song Tingzhou knew full well that going south would be a war without gunpowder smoke.

He slowly knelt, touching his forehead to the ground, and said in a deep voice: "Your servant will not fail his mission. I'll do everything in my power to help Your Majesty implement the new policies."

The chill of early spring hadn't fully faded; cold air still lingered in the early mornings and evenings. Song Tingzhou came out of the palace and rode at full speed toward home.

By then, Meng Wan had moved a small stool to sit in front of the screen wall inside the main gate. Orange sunlight fell through the carved gaps in the screen wall, casting thick, warm shadows onto the vermilion silk ball hanging under the gate's eaves. Meng Wan stared at the ball swaying gently—though on closer look, his eyes were actually vacant, his thoughts drifting off somewhere.

The clatter of horse hooves came like a dream, from far to near...

Meng Wan's spirits lifted. He quickly got up from the stool and hurried toward the gate. But Song Tingzhou outside was even faster, stepping through the door before he could.

"Wan'er?" Song Tingzhou smiled and caught the man who threw himself at him.

Meng Wan, half-embraced by the waist, walked inside with him, complaining softly, "I heard ages ago that you and Lord Ran had gone to the palace. Lord Ran came home early—why are you so slow?"

Song Tingzhou touched his cheek soothingly. "His Majesty kept me back to discuss a few more matters. After the palace examination ends..."

He trailed off. Meng Wan looked up at him. "What happens after the palace examination?"

Song Tingzhou gazed into his beautiful eyes, his expression not too serious. "Let me wash up first. I'll tell you all about it tonight."

The weather was cold, and the lodgings in the exam hall were crude—no chance to bathe daily, at most wiping down with hot water. Song Tingzhou went back to the main courtyard first, washed himself until fresh and clean, then stepped out of the bath and changed into clean clothes.

While he was wringing out his damp hair, Meng Wan sat on his lap, curiously stroking the half-inch beard on his chin. "It's gotten this long?"

It was the first time he'd seen Song Tingzhou with such a long beard, and he found it pretty novel.

The next moment, Meng Wan's lips warmed as he felt Song Tingzhou's whiskers up close.

Song Tingzhou drove straight in, prying open Meng Wan's teeth, their wet tongues tangling and churning together. He kissed fiercely and urgently, crushing the man who'd thrown himself into his arms, ravishing him. One hand held Meng Wan's supple waist while the other deftly undid his half-inch-wide sash and slipped inside.

There wasn't enough time—doing anything more now would be too rushed. But a little taste was enough to satisfy the craving.

It wasn't until Wei Ying from the back courtyard came to call them for dinner that the two finally pulled apart, their lips and tongues separating. Meng Wan's breath was unsteady, his mouth slightly open as he panted softly, "Your stubble is prickly—my chin's chafed raw."

"I'll shave it off the second we get back." Song Tingzhou said, setting him down from his lap. Their robes were all rumpled from the grabbing, so they fixed themselves up before heading out.

The family knew Song Tingzhou was coming home today, just not when exactly. Chang Jinhua, who hadn't seen her son in ages, had personally whipped up a whole table of food.

Tong'er had recently been staying with A Yan in the western courtyard of the Song residence. The two had been huddled together over a storybook on the heated brick bed when they saw Chu Ci rise silently to greet the newly arrived Song Tingzhou and Meng Wan. Both hopped off the bed to greet them properly too.

Zheng Su didn't just teach them book learning—he drilled them hard on etiquette and the finer arts. For martial arts, archery, and riding, Ge Quan, Chi Yu, and Xue Sheng each took turns training them. Not only Tong'er, but A Yan was also skilled in martial arts.

Add to that Meng Wan's frequent guidance on painting, and compared to Song Tingzhou, who'd had to figure everything out on his own back in the day, A Yan and Tong'er were getting the full treatment of noble family heirs.

"Mm, let's eat." Song Tingzhou said, patting his son's head.

A Yan looked up at him, eyes crinkling into a smile—those eyes seemed to talk on their own, silently wheedling Song Tingzhou.

While Meng Wan was chatting with Chang Jinhua, Song Tingzhou pulled a palm-sized exquisite silk figurine from his sleeve and slipped it to A Yan. Busy as he had been all day, it was a mystery how he'd squeezed in time to buy A Yan that figurine.

A Yan quickly took the silk figurine Song Tingzhou handed him, tucked it into his own sleeve, and beamed with a wide grin as he clung to Song Tingzhou's arm, rattling off a whole stream of sweet talk.

"Father, I missed you so much! When you were locked up, did you miss A Yan?"

"Today the tutor even praised me—said I'm clever at chess and will surpass him in a few years."

"Father, try this! It's a new dish Grandmother learned—it's delicious!"

Meng Wan sat right beside Song Tingzhou, and after the meal began, watching A Yan fawn over him, he guessed at once that something was up. He didn't call it out, but found it rather cringe-worthy.

"Song Yan! Eat your meal properly—why do you have so much to say?"

"Didn't Teacher Zheng teach you not to talk with your mouth full and not to chat at bedtime?"

A Yan didn't get mad at the scolding. He shut up for a beat, then started yakking with Chu Ci and Tong'er again.

Because of Chu Ci's wedding, both he and Tong'er had requested leave from their tutor. He'd be home for the next two days and was already scheming with Tong'er about inviting their own friends over.

Returning from Chang Jinhua's courtyard to the main courtyard, Meng Wan washed up and strolled around the yard with Song Tingzhou, chatting about recent household matters as they walked. "Good thing you're back today—A Xun's dowry shows up tomorrow, and the day after is his and Xiao Ci's wedding. Only two days to go—whew, just made it."

Song Tingzhou knew how cumbersome wedding preparations were, and that Chang Jinhua couldn't help much—it all fell on Meng Wan's shoulders. He said with tender concern, "The new jinshi have to go to the palace for etiquette training, and there's no urgent court business right now. I've already requested leave from the emperor. After Xiao Ci's wedding, I'll take you out of the city for an outing."

Red lanterns hung throughout the courtyard, and crimson silk wrapped the corridor pillars. Painted palace lanterns were arranged in four corners and the center, twelve in total. Standing beneath one of them, Meng Wan's face seemed veiled in a hazy glow. "Willows green shade the riding trail, fallen blooms blush the fishing boat. There's a lake west of the city outskirts—when the time comes, let's invite Jin Rong and Brother Ge, Zhiyao and Lezheng Qi. Xiao Cao's too young—Brother Zhao Yuan and the others surely won't bear to bring him out. How about just the three families go boating and fishing?"

Song Tingzhou held his hand, unconsciously leading him from beneath the lantern all the way to the door of their bedchamber. Pushing it open, he slipped his hands under Meng Wan's knees and, with a slight effort, lifted him entirely into his arms.

"Alright—just the two of us, or with them too, whatever you say."