Chapter Nineteen: Revelry

Time slipped by quietly, and before they knew it, the New Year had arrived. After the bustling festivities, more than half a month passed, and now the day had come for the Tianqi Academy to begin its new term.

With a basket of books on his back and his luggage in hand, though he was reluctant to leave this home that had finally grown warm, the road ahead still lay before him. If he wished to stand on his own two feet, he would have to set aside certain things, exchanging them for more possibilities in the future.

He traveled with Wang Hong, and the two of them, without prior discussion, both decided to ride on horseback. Even Wang Hong believed that arriving at Tianqi Academy, a place so steeped in scholarly air, in a gaudy carriage more suited to nouveau riche would be utterly disgraceful.

Upon reflection, whether in his previous life or this one, Liu Ping had never ridden a horse before. It was somewhat uncomfortable at first, but since he was a ghost immortal, his reactions were far quicker than an ordinary person's. In just a quarter of an hour, he had grown fully accustomed to it and was able to gallop alongside Wang Hong.

To be honest, horseback riding was novel at the start, but soon enough became uncomfortable. He couldn't help but regret not hiring a carriage. In the end, they had the two fine steeds refitted for pulling a carriage and spent a bit more money to hire a driver. Though the ride was still bumpy, it was much more bearable.

Pulling aside the curtain to take in the scenery along the road, Liu Ping couldn't help but sigh, "Spring is coming. I remember just a few days ago the ground was still blanketed in snow, yet now not a trace remains."

Wang Hong replied, "That's typical for the lands south of the river. When I was young, I traveled north with my father—the snow and cold there are incomparable to what we have here."

Chatting idly, they reached Tianqi Academy by dusk.

"The official opening isn’t until tomorrow, yet already so many students are gathered here," Wang Hong marveled as he looked at the grand academy, watching scholars coming and going. "What a sight! It’s no wonder they say Tianqi Academy is magnificent."

"Let’s go inside and have a look around," Liu Ping said with a smile.

They had only taken a few steps inside when a surprised voice called out, "Isn’t that Brother Liu and Brother Wang?"

Liu Ping turned to see a face that seemed vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t immediately recall who it was. But seeing the unusually handsome youth behind him, he remembered at once. That was Zhu Yingtai, and the one who had called out must be Zhou Yu.

He was momentarily dazed, but Zhu Yingtai burst out laughing, "Brother Fengchang, have you forgotten us already?"

Liu Ping quickly replied, "How could I dare? I just didn’t expect to meet you both here, so I was a bit caught off guard. My apologies. Allow me to greet you: Brother Zhu, Brother Zhou."

Zhou Yu smiled, "So you haven’t forgotten us after all. That’s a relief."

Wang Hong, however, still looked puzzled and asked, "Have we met before?"

Zhu Yingtai laughed again, saying, "My good brother, you certainly do forget people easily. We met some time ago at the inn, when we discussed Brother Liu’s famous saying."

Wang Hong suddenly clapped his forehead, "Ah, now I remember! How forgetful of me. My apologies—please forgive me."

"No matter," Zhou Yu said. "Are you two also here to study?"

Liu Ping nodded. "Yes. Our teacher recommended us, so we are fortunate enough to attend. And you two as well?"

Zhu Yingtai quickly replied, "We are too! Looks like we’ll be classmates from now on!"

"How coincidental," Liu Ping said. "We arrived early to look around—are you two doing the same? Why don’t we tour together?"

Zhu Yingtai and Zhou Yu clapped their hands in delight. "We couldn’t ask for more!"

Time flew by, and after two days, the opening ceremony finally arrived. All the new students were present. In truth, there weren’t many—just a little over a hundred, all gifted scholars from various counties and prefectures.

First came the examination, which served as an entrance test of sorts, though it was just to determine an initial ranking and failing it would not result in expulsion. Unless a student repeatedly erred and refused to mend their ways, expulsion was rare—after all, anyone admitted here was far from ordinary.

Sitting at his desk, Liu Ping glanced at the students writing around him and was struck by a sense of déjà vu, as if he were back in his old school days taking exams. Shaking his head, he refocused, studied the test paper before him, and began to write.

After an hour, the exam ended and many students heaved a sigh of relief. The atmosphere had been so tense, it was hard not to feel nervous.

Next, room assignments were handed out randomly, and before the students could even find their dorms or meet their roommates, a welcoming banquet began to celebrate their admission. The venue was the academy’s spacious dining hall, with exquisite dishes and ample wine and food. There was no prohibition against alcohol here—among adults, not drinking would be seen as odd.

To be honest, Liu Ping’s capacity for drink came only partly from his cultivation as a ghost immortal; the main reason was that the brewing techniques in this world were not advanced. The wine was not strong at all—no more than a high-proof beer in his eyes. So as students came over to toast him one after another, Liu Ping responded to each with a smile.

This banquet was also a key opportunity to make connections, so he made sure to be bold and hearty, toasting generously and earning rounds of cheers.

Of course, standing out like this inevitably drew some envy, especially from the narrow-minded or those eager for attention—those who had been the center of focus, only to have the spotlight stolen. Chief among them was Lu Liang.

Among the new scholars, there were two top scorers: Liu Ping from Shanghe Prefecture, and Lu Liang from Zhu Prefecture. But Lu Liang was already twenty-three, while Liu Ping had just turned fourteen. The difference in potential was obvious at a glance. Liu Ping’s open, affable nature and willingness to drink made a great first impression, while Lu Liang’s demeanor was the opposite—sullen and dark-faced, so much so that no one bothered to greet him.

"He’s stolen all the attention," one scholar beside Lu Liang grumbled. "He drinks a lot, but can he outdrink you, big brother?"

"Of course not," Lu Liang sneered, watching Liu Ping approach with a mocking smile. "Watch how I put him in his place and show him a thing or two."

Liu Ping, meanwhile, hadn’t expected that his friendly and sincere toasts would offend anyone. As he made his way around the tables, he finally reached Lu Liang, whose face was slightly clouded.

"May I ask your name, brother? I am—"

"I know who you are," Lu Liang interrupted with a smile. "The top scholar of Shanghe Prefecture—how could I not?"

Though his words were polite, his tone was anything but. Liu Ping caught the undertone and quickly replied, "I don’t dare claim such honor—it was mere luck. Without it, I could never have taken that title."

Lu Liang was momentarily taken aback. Was this a sign of deep cunning, or genuine humility? Either way, he was already displeased with Liu Ping, so even humility sounded grating to his ears.

Curling his lip, he said, "I am Lu Liang, styled Mingzhi, from Zhu Prefecture. Pleasure to meet you, Brother Liu."

The name sounded vaguely familiar to Liu Ping, but he didn’t dwell on it. "Allow me to toast you, Brother Lu—"

"Wait," Lu Liang interrupted.

"What is it?" Liu Ping asked.

"This is boring," Lu Liang said with a grin. "Tiny cups, sip after sip—how long would it take? I can tell you’re a skilled drinker. Why don’t we compete and see who can really hold their liquor?"

So, he’s picking a fight? Liu Ping finally realized the man’s hostility and felt a bit vexed—what had he done to offend him?

The tension in the air was palpable; the other scholars fell silent and turned to watch.

Liu Ping hesitated. He had no intention of engaging in a drinking contest. If he’d known this would happen, he’d have kept a lower profile.

"Are you afraid, Brother Liu?" Lu Liang teased.

"Afraid?" Wang Hong, sensing trouble, stepped forward and scoffed, "Why would he be afraid of you? Besides, Brother Liu has already drunk quite a lot. How many cups have you had? This isn’t a fair match—what’s there to compete for?"

"And who are you?" Lu Liang frowned, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Zhu Yingtai, sitting nearby, was fretting over the problem of dormitory roommates—deeply anxious and troubled. Though she had used her magic to appear male, she was still a woman at heart. What if she sneezed and the yin-yang energy dissipated, revealing her true form? And though she had an Adam’s apple, she lacked certain other male attributes… How would she manage in the days to come, living in constant fear of discovery? In hindsight, perhaps she shouldn’t have sat the imperial exams at all; attending Jinjiang Academy might have been better. But now that she’d come this far, there was no turning back. She could only hope for a single room.

Suddenly, she sensed something was wrong—the atmosphere was tense. Looking up, she saw Liu Ping and Lu Liang facing off. She was about to intervene when Liu Ping laughed and asked, "You really want to have a drinking contest with me?"

"Of course," Lu Liang replied. "But since you’ve already drunk so much, perhaps you’re not my match tonight. We can have our contest another day." His words, however, were clearly provocative.

Though Liu Ping didn’t know why Lu Liang was picking a fight, he wasn’t one to be pushed around. "Why should I be afraid? I’ve only had a few cups—no trouble at all. If you want to drink, I’ll drink with you until we drop!"

Lu Liang’s eyes lit up. "Well said! Then I’ll accompany you to the end!"

"Don’t, Brother Fengchang!" Zhu Yingtai hurried over. "Such a contest isn’t good for your health…"

"It’s nothing," Liu Ping said with a shake of his head. Turning to a nearby scholar, he smiled, "Bring the wine—tonight, I’ll compete with Brother Lu!"

He grabbed a small jar, tilted his head, and drained it in one go. Without giving Lu Liang or the others time to react, he took another two jars and drank them down just as quickly.

Wiping his mouth, Liu Ping looked at the dumbfounded, stunned Lu Liang and asked, "What’s the matter, Brother Lu? Are you afraid?"

Who drinks like that!

Lu Liang drew a sharp breath, utterly astonished. His own tolerance was good, but one jar would leave him tipsy. Liu Ping had just downed three in a row and still looked perfectly sober—had he been raised in a wine cellar since childhood?