Chapter Sixteen: The Key to the Case

Inside the tavern, young scholars drinking away their frustration as they waited for the results of the imperial examination were left stupefied, their hands trembling so much that they spilled wine onto themselves without even realizing it. Many slapped down their coins and immediately squeezed into the crowd to see if their names were on the list. Others feigned composure, remaining seated as they waited for the announcement.

If one’s name was listed, someone would shout it out, so even if they couldn’t see the roster, they could hear whether they had succeeded. Yet there were always those desperate to know their fate quickly, anxious to learn whether their decade of hard study would finally allow them to leap through the Dragon Gate—would they remain among the masses, or would their name appear and permit them to don the scholar’s blue gown? Their hearts roiled with impatience and unrest; they wanted to see the results, yet feared their name would be absent, so they sat back down, some rising and sitting repeatedly in agony, truly torn with conflicting emotions.

“It’s posted!” Wang Hong suddenly stood, leaning over the second floor railing to gaze down at the enormous list, five yards wide and tall, recording only one hundred names. Though the distance was considerable, one could just make out the characters.

With a flourish, several armored guards pulled away the crimson drape that concealed the board.

The previously quiet crowd erupted instantly.

“I’ve made it! I’m on the list!” A young man jumped up, seizing a companion’s hand and laughing aloud, oblivious to the dark, grim face of his friend, who had failed.

“Though not on the first list, I made it!” said a refined scholar, now a licentiate, opening his fan with a flourish and speaking calmly, though his trembling arms and quivering legs betrayed his excitement.

“Ha ha ha! Years of bitter study and toil—finally, I’m on the list! First-tier, stipend scholar! First list!” cried a shabbily dressed scholar, leaping and dancing like a monkey, while others looked on with envy. Had that first-tier place been theirs, they would have rejoiced even more wildly.

On the outskirts of the crowd, a handsome young man squinted, scrutinizing the list. After a moment, he clapped his hands and said, “Made it—fifth on the first-tier. Not at the top, but I’m on the first list.”

Those nearby congratulated him eagerly. “Congratulations, Brother Zhu!”

“Fifth on the first-tier! You’re truly gifted, destined for the highest honors!”

“Brother Zhu, your talent shines—you’ve made the first list! Surely you’ll rise quickly; don’t forget your old friends!”

“I wonder if I made it…” muttered a short man, unable to see the list, too anxious to offer congratulations, pushing his way into the crowd.

Cheers, tears, wild elation, despair, sobbing, and resignation—all played out beneath the great roster, a thousand facets of life unfolding.

The scholars of this world were much like the ancient examinees of Earth, and so, scenes reminiscent of the classic tale of “Fan Jin Passing the Exam” played out here.

One hundred licentiates, only ten on the first-tier. Liu Ping squinted, quickly scanning for his name among the top ten.

Tenth—no.

Ninth—no.

Eighth—no.

…

Third—no.

Second—still no…

A wave of disappointment washed over him. Was he not on the first-tier? He closed his eyes, his hands clenching.

If he failed to reach the first list, he’d become the subject of gossip: the proud disciple of the great scholar, unable even to make the first-tier among licentiates… But gossip was just that—so long as his name appeared, becoming a licentiate was key, and he could excel in the scholar’s exam later.

Though he tried to comfort himself, dissatisfaction gnawed at him.

He had done all he could, yet couldn’t make the first-tier. The talent in this world was truly overwhelming.

At that moment, a resounding gong echoed, and a voice called out.

“Urgent news! Liu Ping of Qinshui County claims first place on the first-tier—top licentiate!”

“What?” Liu Ping’s eyes flew open, and he cried out in amazement, jumping up to the railing like Wang Hong, staring at the list. Sure enough, his name was written in gold on a red background at the very top!

He exhaled sharply, almost unable to believe it—first place? He hadn’t dared dream of it! As a traveler from another world, this was his first imperial exam, and confidence had been lacking; he never expected to come first, which was why he searched from the bottom up. Now, the news left him dazed.

“What? Brother! First place?” Liu Yue, who had closed her eyes in dread, now opened them in delight, exclaiming with joy.

Her cry drew the attention of the scholars on the tavern’s second floor, who all looked over.

“The top scholar! He’s the disciple of Prefect Lord Lü, author of ‘Mountain Journey’—Liu Ping!”

“As expected of Lord Lü’s prized pupil—he’s won the top spot! Such talent!”

More people came forward, bowing in congratulation. “Congratulations on claiming the top spot, Liu Master Scholar!”

“Congratulations on coming first—your reputation is well deserved, truly enviable!”

“Ha ha!” Liu Ping laughed, the emotional rollercoaster overwhelming him, unable to restrain his pride. “Pure luck! Just luck!”

Wang Hong, beside him, also breathed a sigh of relief. “I made it too—second on the second-tier, just two places away from the first-tier. What a pity!”

He sighed, “Indeed, Liu brother, I’ve never admired anyone before; you’re the first. This success is well-earned.”

“I knew my brother would succeed!” Liu Yue beamed, clutching Liu Ping’s arm and shaking it, more excited than he, as if she herself had passed.

“First licentiate—finally, my first step in this world!” Liu Ping thought to himself. The commotion drew much attention, and soon official messengers approached.

Several heralds draped a red silk flower across Liu Ping’s chest, presented him with the blue scholar’s gown, a ceremonial sword, and the licentiate’s seal—items reserved for those who had attained this rank—then bowed deeply. “Congratulations, Master Liu, for winning the top spot! Wearing this gown, bearing this seal, you are now a licentiate, no longer a commoner—what joy!”

Liu Ping understood their intentions: they were seeking a reward. In the spring of success, and knowing this was customary, he did not hesitate, distributing thirty taels of silver among them.

“Thank you, Master Liu! May you continue to excel and win the triple crown!”

The so-called “triple crown” meant coming first in the provincial exam (top scholar), the metropolitan exam (prime scholar), and the palace exam (champion)—all first places. In thousands of years of Chinese history, only fourteen people had achieved this. In this world, imperial exams were stricter, with many more participants and talent as numerous as the fishes in the river, so only eight people in history had managed it. Its difficulty was unimaginable.

The congratulations were sincere; Liu Ping did not believe he could achieve such a feat.

“Thank you, thank you,” Liu Ping said, bowing. Seeing the crowd gathering, he smiled, “Fellow scholars and licentiates, the excitement of the posting has unsettled us. I’ll return to the inn and rest. Farewell!”

With that, he removed the red flower, donned the blue robe, took up his sword, and put away the seal and other items. With his sister and Wang Hong, who also wore the scholar’s blue, he left calmly.

“How elegant!” The scholars watched Liu Ping’s retreating figure, full of envy and even jealousy. This licentiate was only thirteen years old! Thirteen and already top of the list—his name would surely spread throughout Shanghe County and all of Yangzhou.

Back at the inn, the innkeeper hurried over, bowing deeply. “Master Liu, Master Wang, I have prepared a banquet to celebrate your success. Please, be seated. Your achievements bring honor and glory to my humble establishment!”

Liu Ping, Liu Yue, Wang Hong, and Yu Bo entered the banquet hall to find a table laden with more than thirty exquisite dishes. The quality was excellent—and not a ploy for profit, as the feast was free. Of course, nothing was truly free; the only price was to leave a written memento for the inn to hang on the wall, attracting future guests.

As expected, the innkeeper entered respectfully, attendants bearing white paper and inkstone.

He bowed and said, “Might I ask the honored licentiates to leave a calligraphic treasure? I would be most grateful.”

Refusal was possible, but Wang Hong did not decline. “Very well, I’ll go first.”

“Many thanks!” The innkeeper was delighted, instructing his attendants to set the paper on a side table.

Wang Hong then swiftly wrote six large characters—“Wang Hong Was Here.”

Liu Ping couldn’t help but laugh, and Liu Yue shook with mirth, while Yu Bo remained impassive. The innkeeper’s face turned grim with anger, but he dared not protest, glaring at his giggling attendants, who immediately fell silent.

“Now, Master Liu, if you please…” The innkeeper prayed inwardly that Liu Ping would not be so frivolous.

Liu Ping had not intended to write, but since Wang Hong had done so, he obliged.

—From forging adversity, the plum blossom’s fragrance comes from bitter cold.

Upon seeing these fourteen characters, the innkeeper was overjoyed. The poem was elegant and memorable—a masterpiece likely to be remembered through the ages. Each character was worth its weight in gold; he had truly struck it rich! Yet as Liu Ping finished, the innkeeper, somewhat disappointed, asked, “Master Liu? Is that all?”

“That’s all. Is it not enough?” Liu Ping tossed the brush aside, retorting.

“More than enough!” the innkeeper replied quickly.

Wang Hong, reading Liu Ping’s verse, recited it quietly, then said with deep feeling, “Exactly so! A fine poem!”

“Then I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal, honored scholars,” said the innkeeper, withdrawing with his attendants.

“Come, come! Tonight we do not leave sober!” Wang Hong said, already seated and pouring himself a cup.

“Agreed!” Liu Ping nodded.

Liu Yue interjected, “Brother, drink less!”

“Top of the list—how can your brother not relax?” Wang Hong laughed. After days and days of hard study and pressure, now that he had succeeded, he could finally celebrate.

“No worries, I’ll pace myself,” Liu Ping replied, casting a glance at Wang Hong. “With his drinking, ten of him couldn’t match me! ‘Don’t leave sober’—that’s only true for him.”

Stung by the taunt, Wang Hong downed a cup in anger. “Before, I let you win! Now it’s real—come, let’s see who can drink more!”