Success on the Golden Roll

The stench of blood still lingered over the training ground, and the corpse that had been carried away had taken all the clamor with it.

The originally highly anticipated final match had become somewhat dull due to the "accidental" sudden death of Jin Shijie, the overwhelming favorite for the top spot.

Chen Ping was sprawled bonelessly against a pillar at the corner of the arena, his face as pale as paper, with traces of blood still drying at the corner of his mouth.

Whenever an examiner or runner passed by, he would let out a heart-wrenching fit of coughing, as if trying to hack up his very lungs.

"Chen Ping, can you still fight?"

The supervising examiner frowned, asking as a mere formality.

"Your... Your Honor..."

Chen Ping's voice was faint as a thread, one hand clutching his chest while the other waved feebly.

"This lowly one's... internal organs feel all out of place. That Young Master Jin's blade aura was too overbearing... I concede. The first place... I can't contend for it anymore."

He spoke with such heartfelt sincerity that anyone would see him as a spent bolt at the end of its flight.

In truth, the Longevity Inner Qi was circulating smoothly within him, and the minor flesh wounds from the shock had long since healed to near perfection. If he really wanted to fight, he could leap up and twist the heads off the remaining opponents.

But killing the eldest son of the Jin Family in full view of everyone had already stirred up a hornet's nest. If he were foolish enough to vie for the top scholar, Jin Zhenshan would crush him on the spot without a second thought.

A man must know when to advance and when to retreat.

In the end, with Jin Shijie dead, another scion from a noble family lucked into the top spot, while Chen Ping, with his "severe injuries," was placed third in this Imperial Military Examination—the Flower Examiner.

Even third place was a windfall of riches and honor for a household slave with no backing.

"Proclaim—the military examination roster!"

With the County Magistrate's resounding shout, a red paper banner was unfurled by two runners and hung high on the screen wall of the Training Ground.

The setting sun's glow spilled over the red paper and black ink. Chen Ping squinted, spotting his own two characters among the list of names.

Group D, Chen Ping.

In an instant, the surrounding noise faded away.

Chen Ping felt an unprecedented lightness, as if an invisible shackle had shattered deep within his soul with the settling of those two ink characters.

The indenture contract, the slave status—the mountain that had crushed him for three years.

From now on, he was no longer the book boy at Lin Manor who could be beaten and scolded at will, no longer a lowly wretch with a life as cheap as grass.

He was now a military scholar of The Liang Dynasty, a man with official rank and title!

"Phew..."

Chen Ping let out a long breath of stale air, his eyes slightly reddened. This was true liberation.

Yet the thrill of freedom didn't last long.

A bone-chilling cold suddenly swept over him.

Without turning his head, Chen Ping sensed the source of that gaze through the keen perception of Longevity of Pine and Crane.

Jin Zhenshan, cradling his son's corpse, was walking step by step toward the exit of the Training Ground.

As he passed by Chen Ping, the Iron Palm Hall Master, famed throughout Qinghe County, stopped.

He didn't strike, his expression eerily calm, but in his sunken eyes burned a venomous, ghostly fire as tangible as substance.

"Young man, fine skills."

Jin Zhenshan's voice was hoarse and low.

"The days ahead are long. Let's... take our time."

With that, he didn't linger, leading the Jin Family members away with long strides.

His retreating figure was desolate yet tinged with a chilling madness.

Chen Ping shrank his neck, putting on a show of being scared out of his wits, cowering and lowering his head.

But in the shadow of his bowed head, his gaze was utterly clear.

"The days ahead are long?"

Chen Ping sneered inwardly.

"Old bastard, you're already past fifty, your vitality starting to wane. And I'm only twenty, with the ability to live long and see far. You want to outlast me? I'll make sure I piss on your grave one day."

With the Jin Family's departure, the atmosphere in the Training Ground shifted abruptly.

The crowd that had previously avoided him and hurled cold mockery now swarmed around him like flies drawn to carrion.

"Oh, Flower Examiner Chen! I always said you had extraordinary bones, destined to rise above the common lot!"

A merchant who had just been cursing Chen Ping as a scoundrel now put on a smiling face, bowing with clasped hands.

"Scholar Chen, I'm from the Li Family in the east of town. I have a young daughter of sixteen who admires heroes..."

"Lord Chen, this is our shop's VIP card. From now on, your drinks are on the house!"

A few heavily powdered matchmakers waved their handkerchiefs, practically lunging at Chen Ping, their pungent perfume nearly making him actually vomit.

Chen Ping wore his trademark simpleton grin, returning bows and playing along with empty pleasantries.

"Joy to all, joy to all—you flatter me, I'm just lucky, just lucky..."

His face muscles ached from smiling, yet deep in his eyes lurked a thick irony.

This was the way of the world.

When you're a pile of mud, everyone wants to stomp on you; when you're a nugget of gold, everyone wants a piece of the shine.

Even if that gold is still stained with blood.

Just as Chen Ping grew fed up with the crowd and was about to fake a piss break, a hulking figure like an iron tower bulled through the throng.

"Move aside! My brother's hurt, don't crowd him!"

Tie Niu limped in, ignoring Chen Ping's pretense of illness, and wrapped him in a tight embrace, sobbing loudly:

"Brother Ping! You're alive! Thank the heavens! I thought that bastard Jin was gonna chop you down! Waaah..."

The man's strength was immense, squeezing Chen Ping's ribs until they ached, nearly making him cough up blood for real.

But Chen Ping didn't push him away.

On this training ground full of scheming and hypocrisy, only this big fool's tears were warm, salty, and real.

"Easy... easy..."

Chen Ping patted Tie Niu's broad back, a warmth rising in his chest, and said softly, "Tie Niu, we've made it through. I'll remember this favor, brother. One day, I'll repay it handsomely."

After finally calming Tie Niu down, the yamen clerk walked over.

"Scholar Chen, here are your official credentials and your waist token. Please keep them safe."

The clerk's manner was utterly respectful as he presented a tray with both hands.

Chen Ping's hands trembled as he picked up the heavy bronze waist token.

The token was cool to the touch, engraved with the Liang Dynasty's tiger pattern, and on the back were the words "Qinghe County, Imperial Military Examination, Chen Ping."

His fingertip traced the uneven grooves, and an unprecedented sense of solidity surged through Chen Ping's heart.

With this token, as long as he didn't commit high treason, the Jin Family couldn't openly use private force to kill him.

This was a talisman, the first layer of armor in this cannibalistic world.

By the time the gathering dispersed, dusk had fallen.

Chen Ping declined all invitations to dine and walked alone back toward the city.

The setting sun stretched his shadow long, making him seem solitary.

But he wasn't lonely—he was utterly at ease.

At the training ground's gate, he stopped, turned back to glance at the bloodstained arena, then at the imposing county yamen in the distance.

Those high walls that once made him look up now seemed nothing special.

"Goodbye, Chen the book boy."

He said it silently to himself, then turned and strode into the thick darkness.

By the time he returned to the shabby little house on Rat Alley, the moon had climbed above the treetops.

Chen Ping didn't let his success go to his head. Standing at his door, he first casually scanned the surrounding shadows, confirming no one was tailing him.

Then he gently pushed the door, his gaze quickly checking the gap beneath it.

The black strand of hair wedged there was still in place, unmoved.

Next, the incense ash on the window hinge—no sign of disturbance.

All clear.

Only after closing the door and hanging the heavy iron lock did Chen Ping collapse, sliding down the door panel to sit on the floor.

"Huff... huff..."

He gasped in the dark, cold sweat instantly soaking his back.

This day's experience was more thrilling than the last twenty years of his life combined.

Brushing past death on the arena, forcing calm under Jin Zhenshan's murderous intent, feigning pleasantries amid the crowd's flattery...

Every second, every minute, drained his mental strength.

He sat slumped on the floor for a long time until his breathing steadied, then slowly got up and lit the tiny oil lamp.

The dim yellow light dispelled the darkness and brought him a measure of safety.

Chen Ping pulled from his bosom the sweat-soaked, crumpled gambling house voucher.

Staring at the words "Bet on Chen Ping to enter top ten, fifty taels," his weary eyes suddenly blazed with fiery light.

One-to-ten odds.

Fifty taels turned into five hundred.

Adding what he had scrounged before to what the Jin Family steward had "gifted" him, his total wealth was now close to a thousand taels.

In this county town, that was a fortune maddening enough to drive anyone wild.

With money, he could buy better medicinal herbs, push the Longevity of Pine and Crane to the fourth layer, and live with more dignity in this chaotic world.

Tomorrow would be the true moment of harvest.

Chen Ping carefully smoothed out the receipts, tucked them into a tattered book, and then blew out the oil lamp.

In the darkness, he lay on the hard wooden plank bed, gazing through a hole in the roof at the bright, silvery moon in the sky.

The moonlight, like water, gently spilled across his face, reminding him of the woman in the Lin Manor's Inner Kitchen who used to secretly slip him Osmanthus Cake.

Chen Ping smiled softly and murmured to himself:

"Yun Niang, I made it."