Xiaocheng

"Of course I know him." Qi Shan was not surprised by the Imperial Censor's reaction. He merely smiled faintly. "Unfortunately, we only met once, so I'm afraid Teacher Tian no longer remembers me. Eight years ago, during Xin Country's special examination, Teacher Tian happened to serve as the chief examiner."

Eight years ago?

Chief examiner?

Those two clues finally jogged the Imperial Censor's memory.

He vaguely remembered now.

The so-called "special examination" was an additional trial held outside the regular talent-selection process. The chief examiner oversaw it, and scholars could use the opportunity to enter officialdom.

The examination covered three areas: family background, moral character and ability, and, most importantly, Literary Heart grade.

The first two determined the minimum threshold—in other words, the entry barrier to officialdom—while the last determined the ceiling one could reach in one's official career.

The Imperial Censor had an excellent memory.

He remembered all the scholars selected that time, but did not recall Qi Shan being among them. That meant Qi Shan must have been one of those who failed?

The moment this guess surfaced, a trace of awkwardness flashed across the Imperial Censor's face. As the chief examiner, he had actually missed such a great talent. It was truly his fault.

But then he thought about it again. Xin Country no longer existed, and a large number of its former officials had been purged and persecuted by Zheng Qiao.

Countless innocent souls had perished in just a few short months.

Qi Shan's failure to enter officialdom had instead been a blessing.

He lightly patted his son's arm. His son understood at once and helped him to his feet. Father and son solemnly bowed to Qi Shan.

"May we ask our benefactor's name?"

Qi Shan returned the bow to each of them.

"My surname is Qi, my given name is Shan, and my courtesy name is Yuanliang."

The Imperial Censor murmured, "Qi Yuanliang... Qi?"

Qi Shan's surname was exceedingly rare, and he vaguely recalled it. There truly had been a young scholar named "Qi Shan" on the register. He had been only sixteen at the time, the youngest among that batch of scholars.

But—

The Imperial Censor lowered his eyelids, his gaze sweeping unobtrusively toward the Literary Heart Sigil at Qi Shan's waist. If he remembered correctly, that scholar's Literary Heart grade seemed to have been—

Before he could retrieve that fragment of memory, Qi Shan had already seen through the Imperial Censor's little movement and spoke first.

"Sixth-grade mid-low."

The Imperial Censor pressed his lips together and said nothing. As more clues emerged, he slowly recalled some long-sealed details.

At that moment, his son looked at Qi Shan, then at his father, and interjected, "A sixth-grade mid-low Literary Heart? Why wasn't he recruited?"

Although a sixth-grade mid-low Literary Heart belonged to the lower-middle ranks and, barring an accident, made it impossible to rise to the Three Dukes or Nine Ministers in one's lifetime, someone with genuine ability could still secure a minor post without difficulty.

In the years before Xin Country's fall, talent was desperately needed everywhere. The standards were not high. It was impossible that Qi Shan had not been recruited.

The Imperial Censor said nothing. He shot his son a sidelong glance, silently warning him to keep quiet. His son shuddered under that glare and shut his mouth at once.

Only after his son had quieted down did he seek confirmation from Qi Shan.

"Benefactor, did you happen to offend someone back then?"

Qi Shan had been rejected and could not even secure a minor post in some remote place. Naturally, it had not been solely because his Literary Heart grade was insufficient.

"Mm, I did offend someone."

Qi Shan's eyes curved into crescent moons, and he admitted it readily.

"Father, who framed our benefactor?"

The Imperial Censor's son had the same temperament as his father, but was even more upright and guileless. The moment he heard that Qi Shan had been ruined for offending someone and had thus missed his chance at officialdom, his anger flared. Yet the Imperial Censor not only failed to answer him, he also secretly pinched the flesh on his upper arm.

"Father—"

"Silence!" The Imperial Censor shot him a sideways glare.

His son: "..."

"That person didn't exactly frame me. My leverage simply fell into his hands. At the time, failing the examination was better than entering officialdom only to be threatened by him later." Qi Shan took it rather lightly, without the slightest obvious fluctuation in his eyes, as though he were discussing some trivial matter unrelated to himself.

"Leverage?" The foolish son remained as straightforward as ever.

Qi Shan suddenly broke into a smile. "Mm. Falsifying my background."

The Imperial Censor's foolish son: "..."

The Imperial Censor, who knew part of the truth: "..."

Compared to the real leverage, "falsifying one's background" was nothing but a small witch before a great one. But Xin Country had already fallen, and that former "great witch" no longer amounted to much. Besides, that man had saved the lives of both father and son, as well as several relatives and friends. Why expose his shame?

Qi Shan asked, "Does Teacher Tian know where that person is now?"

The Imperial Censor's expression darkened as though he had remembered something.

"In Xiaocheng..."

"Xiaocheng?"

"He is now the governor of Sibao Prefecture, whose Prefectural Government is in Xiaocheng. With Geng Country's armies pressing the border, he secretly colluded with Zheng Qiao, cooperating from within and without to seize several of Xin Country's fortresses... Without that, we could have held out for at least five more months. Perhaps a turning point might even have come..."

Qi Shan said, "A fickle villain like that is nothing out of the ordinary."

"Our benefactor asked about his whereabouts because you intend to... seek revenge?"

At that moment, Young Master Shen's voice, carrying a hint of displeasure, rolled into their ears. "I'm out fighting bravely while you're here chatting and reminiscing?"

Shen Tang, drenched in blood, came over carrying the Kind Mother Sword to summon someone to deal with the corpses—to destroy the evidence and prevent further complications. From a distance, however, she saw Qi Shan chatting with someone, and her fists tightened.

She felt that the person most in need of education from the Kind Mother Sword right now was not the "filial sons" waiting in line for rebirth, but Yuan Liang, who was always lurking on the sidelines and watching the show.

When Shen Tang returned, a trace of surprise slid through Qi Shan's eyes. He knew Shen Tang could deal with that dozen or so soldiers, but had not expected her to move so quickly even without the support of Word Spirit.

"Of course I trust Young Master Shen's abilities. How could that rabble possibly withstand even one move from you?" Faced with the accusation, he brushed her off perfunctorily, without a shred of sincerity. His gaze passed over Shen Tang and landed behind her. "Are they all dead?"

She snorted. "Every last one."

She had cut the grass and removed the roots, leaving no future trouble behind.

Shen Tang flicked her wrist. The blood on the blade was flung onto the blades of grass, leaving scattered red marks.

"What about those who were poisoned?"

"A kind person like me naturally couldn't let them continue suffering under the Chain-Link poison—one sword through the throat, one through the heart."

She had made sure they were dead beyond dead.

As Qi Shan and Shen Tang exchanged questions and answers, they also watched the few rescued prisoners from the corners of their eyes. As the head of the Censorate, the Imperial Censor had had plenty of dealings with Xin Country's Gong Clan. If Young Master Shen was "Gong Cheng," he should not have failed to recognize him.

Yet the Imperial Censor showed none of the reaction one would have upon seeing an old acquaintance on Shen Tang's face. Instead, there was only a little curiosity and surprise.

A young man wearing a Literary Heart Sigil, yet fighting more ferociously than a brute with a Martial Gall Tiger Tally—he was certainly worth watching with curiosity.

Qi Shan reflected inwardly.

Was Shen Tang really not "Gong Cheng"?

The moment he frowned, Shen Tang guessed what sort of nonsense was brewing in his mind. She restrained the urge to roll her eyes. She had known it—the meaning behind Qi Shan's earlier "I understand" was that he understood absolutely nothing.

With this much time to waste on idle speculation, he might as well help her bury the corpses.

Who knew—

Qi Shan decisively refused.

His reason was absurd as well.

"I am timid and cannot bear the sight of corpses smeared with blood."

Shen Tang: "..."

She could only roll up her sleeves and do the work herself. Qi Shan was useless, and those prisoners who had one foot in the grave and were clinging to life with her flatbreads, green plums, and maltose were even less reliable. While she worked, Qi Shan leaned against the tree trunk and hid in the shade as he asked her,

"Does Young Master Shen have any interest in making a trip to Xiaocheng?"

Today I moved into my new home and drank quite a bit of red wine. I got up at three in the morning and stayed busy until three or four in the afternoon before taking a nap and getting up to post the update. My head still hurts quite badly, and my thoughts feel rather muddled. If there are any problems, I'll revise them tomorrow after I've had a good night's sleep.

Good night, everyone.