The Examination Hall is Haunted

Seventh Master was deeply wounded by love himself, so he often urged Lin Shou not to end up like him and to never let a good woman slip away. Eighth Master, on the other hand, was the complete opposite, always warning Lin Shou that women couldn't be trusted and to be on his guard.

Although Eighth Master never spoke of his own past, and no one knew what he'd been through in his youth, as luck would have it, Lin Shou knew.

He had once stitched up a corpse—Eighth Master's son.

The old man wasn't truly alone; he'd had a son. As for why he'd ended up as a corpse stitcher, that story began with what Lin Shou saw in the son's Lantern of Life.

Eighth Master's son was "blessed" with a beautiful wife who brought him great face in public. But while this daughter-in-law was dazzling and elegant outside, at home she was a different story. Every day, she either read idle storybooks or went out to buy rouge, powder, and clothes. She never lifted a finger to help with household chores—lazy and free-spending to boot.

Eighth Master's wife had died young, leaving him with only this one son. The old man doted on the boy, and seeing how besotted his son was with his wife, Eighth Master, though he disliked the lazy daughter-in-law, didn't dare say much. The son went out to work every day, so the old man managed the household himself—washing clothes, cooking, and cleaning.

The old man had saved up some private money, planning to give it to the couple after the son married. But after seeing how useless this daughter-in-law was—lazy and wasteful—he held back, afraid his son would be foolish enough to let her squander it all.

But as luck would have it, one day when he was hiding the money, the daughter-in-law spotted him. She demanded the money, and when he refused, a quarrel broke out. When the son came home, the wife tearfully accused the old man of trying to force himself on her.

What a venomous, wicked heart that woman had.

That fool of a son treasured his wife like a precious jewel, believing everything she said. He flew into a rage on the spot. "How can I have a shameless father like you? Get out!" He kicked the old man out of the house.

The old man ended up on the streets, his heart wrenched with pain. The son he'd raised from a child, driven out by a single word from that evil woman—he'd poured decades of toil and hardship into raising a thankless wolf.

Until the old man later became Eighth Master of the Corpse-Stitching Shop, he never once returned to that home.

So how did Eighth Master's "filial son" end up dead?

The wife had taken a liking to Young Master Wang, the idle but handsome neighbor next door. Every day, as soon as the filial son left for work, Young Master Wang would come calling.

As time passed, even the dim-witted son began to sense something off. Mainly because the neighbors kept saying his wife was very hospitable, always inviting Young Master Wang over. He asked his wife why Young Master Wang kept coming around. She told him not to overthink it—she'd recently taken up a job stitching hats, and Young Master Wang was helping out. The filial son said, "Oh, so that's it," and forgot to ask even one more question: what color were the hats?

Just as the affair was about to be exposed, the wife and Young Master Wang discussed it. "This can't go on," the wife said. "I wish you could come at night too." Young Master Wang replied, "Can't do that—there are already two people in your bed at night. If I joined, there wouldn't be room. Well then, let's clear a spot. Let's kill him."

The adulterous pair plotted murder. They poisoned the filial son's soup. He drank it and immediately began convulsing. In his dying moments, his wife confessed everything—how she'd falsely accused his father of trying to force himself on her, and how she'd been carrying on with Young Master Wang.

The filial son's blood boiled with rage, and he died on the spot.

The adulterous pair later tossed his body into a dry well and lived it up for a while. But the money ran out fast—both were lazy good-for-nothings who couldn't earn a living. Finally, they came up with a scheme: a honey trap. The woman would lure a man to a secluded spot, and the man would rush in with a club to extort money.

Their very first mark turned out to be a tough nut. The guy was carrying a hidden knife. When he saw their game?

Slash, slash.

Two cuts.

One bloody hole each in the adulterous pair. Both dead.

Evil deeds eventually meet their reckoning. No one got a good end.

Especially that fool of a filial son, who died with no one to mourn him. If his corpse hadn't happened to fall into Lin Shou's hands, the one who could see Lanterns of Life, no one would have even known who he was.

Lin Shou had never told Eighth Master that his son was dead.

The old man was happy now. No need to add to his troubles.

Better to pretend he'd never had that son at all.

Lin Shou cleared away the leftover food and drink from the table, as if tidying up the warmth and cold of human relationships in the Capital City. He blew out the lamp and went to sleep.

The next day, the Autumn Examination began.

Lin Shou made a special trip to the area around the Examination Hall to see what this feudal society's imperial examination system was all about. But when he got there, he found a number of soldiers standing outside the walls. He couldn't get close—they were there to prevent cheating.

As the primary method of selecting talent for the nation, the imperial examination was even more important than the college entrance exams of his past life. Cheating on the imperial examination would ultimately harm the country.

Of course, precisely because it was so important, many people were willing to take the risk. Whether it was hiding cheat sheets in rice or cakes, having answers smuggled in from outside, or bribing examiners, all kinds of cheating methods kept emerging.

Scholars would go to any lengths to pass.

Why was everything else considered lowly while only scholarship was held in high regard? Why did one need to study diligently from a young age, with essays as the foundation for success? Why did excellence in learning lead to officialdom?

Because the imperial examination was the only chance for a hundred thousand scholars to soar to the heavens and become men above men.

The greater the temptation, the more rampant the cheating.

From low-level soldiers at the Examination Hall gate being beheaded for negligence in catching cheat sheets, to high-ranking officials being executed for taking bribes and leaking exam questions—despite all this, it continued unabated, growing worse.

Just then, Lin Shou was cooling off in a nearby awning when he saw a pigeon flying toward the Examination Hall. Whoosh—an arrow pierced it clean through. The pigeon fell, and soldiers retrieved it, finding exam answers tied to its leg.

Tsk tsk, Lin Shou shook his head with a smile.

During the day, some officials from the Bureau of Merit Evaluation under the Ministry of Rites came and went. This year's imperial examination was presided over by the Vice Minister of Rites. By evening, people from the Bureau of Corpse Management also arrived.

Once the Examination Hall gates were closed, unless there was a fire, no one could enter or leave during the exam period. A few clerks from the Bureau of Corpse Management came and stood outside the wall, waiting.

At first, Lin Shou didn't know what they were waiting for. That is, until around the third watch of the night.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream rang out from inside the Examination Hall!

Lin Shou jolted awake. What was that commotion?

Someone inside the hall announced:

"Room Jia, Number Three—dead."

"Room Bing, Number Sixteen—dead."

"Room Wu, Number Two—dead."

Hiss—good heavens!

Lin Shou listened and thought, This is way too cursed. He'd heard that every year during the Autumn Examination, the Examination Hall was haunted and people died—that much was true—but he never imagined it would be this punctual, this precise. A batch dead, just like that?

No wonder the corpse menders were terrified of the Autumn Examination. Who wouldn't be?

Inside the Examination Hall, the roll call finished, and it seemed they were now clearing the bodies. Before long, corpses wrapped in straw mats began to be tossed over the wall from inside.

Once the Examination Hall's gate was shut, no one could enter or leave. And that gate was meant for the living, not the dead, so the bodies had to be thrown out over the wall.

From the sounds of it, three had died.

One corpse, another corpse, then a basin of corpse...

Lin Shou stared at the basin of bloody soup, where kidneys and large intestines were soaking. The person had been shattered into pieces. How was that supposed to be sewn back together?