Su Cen walked on until the first evening lanterns were lit before stopping. He looked around and realized this wasn’t the way home. Ah Fu followed behind him with his head lowered, probably having called out to him several times without a response, and had no choice but to follow closely.
As dusk settled and the chill of early spring seeped through his thin clothes, Su Cen walked toward one of the lanterns. The banner above it had the words “Tian Ji Tian Shui1甜水 (tián shuǐ) translates to “sweetwater,” where 甜 (tián) means “sweet,” and 水 (shuǐ) means “water.”” written in clerical script. The sign showed its age, with the writing already somewhat faded. The shop itself was just a simple straw-covered stall with a few tables and stools beneath it. The curfew in Chang’an was strict, and an elderly man, likely in his sixties, was busy stacking the stools onto the tables, clearly preparing to close up.
Su Cen stepped forward, initially just intending to ask where he was and how to get back to his residence in the Changle Ward. But as he approached, he noticed two steaming bowls of pear water on the table and was suddenly tempted. He took out a few coins, intending to buy the two bowls of sweetwater.
Seeing this, the old man hurriedly put the stools back down on the ground. Su Cen quickly said it wasn’t necessary—they could just stand and drink.
As the warm sweetwater went down, Su Cen finally began to feel warmth returning to his limbs. He glanced at a dark, looming building not far away and couldn’t help but ask, “What’s that over there?”
The old man followed his gaze and smiled, “Judging by your appearance, you must have come to the capital for the imperial exams, right? How could you not recognize the gate of the Examination Hall?”
Su Cen was startled. “This is the Examination Hall?”
The old man, with his kind and gentle expression, chuckled, “It looks more imposing in the daylight. The exams start tomorrow, so the hall has been sealed off for security. It’s no wonder you didn’t recognize it in the dark.”
“To think I’ve been searching high and low, only to stumble upon it by chance,” Su Cen said with a smile. Not wanting to linger since the shop was closing, he bade farewell to the old man and decided to walk around the Examination Hall, curious to see the place that held the aspirations of countless scholars.
Three gates stood at the front, all tightly shut now. Above them hung a plaque inscribed with “Chang’an Examination Hall,” flanked by couplets on the red pillars:
Generals and ministers are not born so; they strive through brush and ink.
In humble cottages, scholars inscribe their names on the golden roll.
The couplet was signed by Lin Zongqing, the current imperial scholar. He had once been the mentor to the previous emperor and was a model for scholars across the land. However, after the previous emperor’s death, Lin Zongqing, displeased with the court’s atmosphere, resigned and returned to his hometown, where he opened a private school. Although he no longer concerned himself with court affairs, he continued to nurture talents for the empire.
Looking at his teacher’s calligraphy, Su Cen couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in his teeth. It was this very handwriting that once critiqued his essays so harshly, leaving them in tatters. The old man, who usually had the demeanor of an immortal, would transform when he picked up a pen, his words sharp and incisive, his eyes sparkling with intensity. The next day, when Su Cen brought a revised essay to him, the old man would squint and say, “Actually, your essay from yesterday did have some merits. Weigh the pros and cons, and submit another one tomorrow.”
Su Cen hurriedly avoided the main entrance and circled around the outer wall of the courtyard. The wall was more than two zhang (about 6.6 meters) high, with spikes set atop it, and there were watchtowers at regular intervals, showcasing the strict security.
As Su Cen walked along the east wall, he realized that the Examination Hall, which could accommodate ten thousand people, was just over a li (about half a kilometer) in circumference. It took him no more than the time to burn half a stick of incense to walk from the southern to the northern end. But as he turned to the northern wall, he suddenly froze in place.
Cold sweat instantly broke out, and his scalp tingled.
Just a foot away from him, a flickering flame revealed three or four people kneeling on the ground, chanting incantations as they burned paper offerings. The firelight cast eerie shadows on their faces, making them look bloodless, creating an incredibly strange atmosphere.
Both sides stared at each other for a moment, and then suddenly, they all started shouting.
After a while, a chubby man stood up and made a silencing gesture toward the others. It was only when they moved away from the eerie firelight that Su Cen could clearly see—they were just ordinary people.
“What are you doing here?” Su Cen asked with a frown.
The chubby man pulled him aside and quietly asked, “You’re here for tomorrow’s imperial exam, aren’t you?”
Su Cen didn’t answer, but the man didn’t mind. He handed Su Cen half of the paper money he was holding and said, “Go and make an offering. It’ll guarantee you a place on the honor roll tomorrow.”
Su Cen didn’t take the paper money and instead asked, “You’re burning paper offerings to get on the honor roll?”
“You must be new here and haven’t heard, right?” The chubby man leaned in closer to Su Cen, speaking in a mysterious tone, “This Examination Hall, you see, is haunted.”
Su Cen was momentarily stunned and then couldn’t help but roll his eyes, thinking to himself that these people looked more like ghosts. Fortunately, the dim light hid his expression, and the chubby man didn’t notice. He continued to pull Su Cen along, saying, “Many years ago, a scholar died of a haemorrhage in the examination hall. Filled with resentment, he turned into a vengeful spirit that roams the hall, disturbing the scholars every exam period. But if you come and pay your respects to him the day before the exam, he won’t trouble you.” As he spoke, he tried to stuff the paper money into Su Cen’s hands. “Hurry up and make an offering, and do it with sincere respect, or it won’t work.”
Su Cen returned the paper money to the chubby man, saying, “No need, I don’t believe in this.”
“It’s better to believe than not,” the chubby man persisted, trying to persuade him. “Young people should have some reverence. I’m only telling you this because I feel a connection with you. I wouldn’t share this with just anyone.”
So, those three people kneeling over there weren’t invited by you?
“Thanks anyway.” Su Cen smiled and turned to leave.
The chubby man shook his head helplessly and knelt back down to continue burning the paper money.
The two of them made it home just before the curfew. With the spring exams approaching, all the inns in the city were already full. Fortunately, the old man had provided him with this residence. Otherwise, arriving just in time like this, they might have had to negotiate even to get a spot in a rundown temple outside the city. After instructing Ah Fu to lock the door, Su Cen sat in a chair, lost in thought. Sometimes it was Qu Ling’er’s delicate face that came to mind, and other times it was the chubby man burning paper money in the firelight. In the end, all these images blended into the deep, unfathomable eyes of that person. Su Cen considered himself someone well-versed in the ways of the world, yet never before had anyone given him such an intense sense of pressure.
If he was like a flailing cat before, he was like being pinched by the back of the neck in front of that man, with his fur all over his body standing up but unable to move at all.
And that person had only glanced at him.
Ah Fu lit a lamp and carefully brought it over, hesitantly asking, “Second Young Master, will you continue studying?”
Su Cen glanced at the stack of classics on the table and said, “Put the lamp down and leave.” He casually picked up a copy of the Zhongyong, flipped through a few pages, then tossed it aside.
He had always put his effort into daily work, so cramming at the last minute wasn’t his style. Turning slightly, he saw Ah Fu still standing there, choosing his words carefully: “Second Young Master, how about I go burn some paper offerings for you? I know this kind of thing isn’t something you’d want to do, but as that chubby guy said, it’s better to believe than not. I can go in your place, and you can stay home and rest.”
Ah Fu had originally worked for the old master, and Su Cen had always thought he was sent to keep an eye on him. But now it seemed Ah Fu genuinely cared for him. Su Cen couldn’t help but tease, “Aren’t you afraid that if you go there alone at night, the vengeful ghost might drag you inside and eat you?”
Ah Fu turned pale with fright, but still insisted, “This… but…”
Su Cen laughed and said, “Don’t worry, your young master has real skills and doesn’t rely on the protection of ghosts and gods. You should go back and rest now, and whatever you do, don’t make any noise to disturb my sleep. Otherwise, I’ll drag you out to feed the ghosts.”
Ah Fu smiled and bowed before leaving.
The next day, Su Cen prepared his books, lamps, and three candles and joined the vast army of scholars heading to the Examination Hall. Looking at the large calligraphy of his teacher, he bared his teeth and entered through the main gate.
Seeing his young master finally enter the gate without any mishaps, and with the doors securely closed, Ah Fu let out a sigh of relief.
The examination area inside the hall was made up of individual cells, each five feet long, four feet wide, and eight feet high. Calling them “cells” was generous—they were less comfortable than cages. The imperial examination consisted of three sessions, each lasting three days, meaning the candidates had to sleep in these small cells at night. In the cold weather, there wasn’t even enough space to fully stretch out one’s legs. Su Cen’s lips twitched at the thought, and he hoped to finish his essays quickly and leave early, avoiding an overnight stay if possible.
Just as he was about to enter his cell, he heard a commotion behind him. Turning slightly, he saw a tall, thin man pointing at a chubby man, berating him.
Su Cen raised an eyebrow—what a coincidence. The chubby man was the one burning paper last night.
“A butcher’s son managing to pass the county exams is already a miracle, and yet you still dare to come for the imperial examination? We all went to the same private school—you know your own limitations, don’t you? And yet you dare to come here and embarrass yourself!”
In no time, a crowd had gathered around. The thin man seemed to grow more confident with the attention, while the chubby man just kept his head down, occasionally wiping sweat from his forehead. To be sweated out in February by someone’s insults without retorting—this man was either excessively timid or had a deep reserve.
The crowd only began to disperse when a patrol from the Examination Hall arrived. The thin man left, still muttering curses, and the chubby man wiped his sweat before turning around to meet Su Cen’s meaningful smile.
The chubby man clearly recognized Su Cen too. He forced a smile, cupped his hands in a salute, and entered the cell next to Su Cen’s.
Su Cen then turned back, bent over, and entered his small examination cell. As soon as he was inside, someone outside immediately locked the door. Su Cen arranged his writing tools and inkstone on the small desk, stretched lazily, closed his eyes to focus, and when he opened them again, his gaze was suddenly sharp and clear.
![Flying Dust [Fei Chen]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/9k.png "Flying Dust [Fei Chen]")
