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That was normal, too. The prefectural qualifying examination was held twice every three years, and the Great Qing Dynasty admitted only twenty-five thousand candidates each time.

Seeing others stamping their feet to keep warm, Xie Yao said to Zhou Jinian ahead of him, "You were the clever one, drinking ginger soup before we left. I really don't feel very cold now."

Zhou Jinian turned to answer, but the old licentiate hurriedly said, "Our turn. Come on."

Before entering, they underwent a body search. Even the dry provisions and rice they carried had to be poured out for inspection; anything larger than a grain of rice was forbidden inside.

The guards first inspected the empty cloth bag Zhou Jinian handed over, then poured his dry provisions into it. They checked his other cloth bag as well and let him through only after confirming that nothing was amiss.

Inside, there was also a government-appointed guarantor, likewise a licentiate, to prevent candidates from bribing the stipend-receiving licentiates into helping them cheat.

If cheating was discovered, both guarantor licentiates would be held responsible, stripped of their government benefits and licentiate status.

Zhou Jinian and the other four entered their examination cubicles in order, with a wall separating each cubicle from the next. Inside each was a built-in stone bed and a desk; candidates sat on the bed to take the examination.

Just as he had familiarized himself with his surroundings, two guards came to distribute examination papers, brushes, inkstones, and bells. After a guard verified his identity, he stamped the character for "verified" on his paper.

Once the guards left, Zhou Jinian began grinding ink. By the time all the papers had been distributed, it was broad daylight, and the education commissioner overseeing the examination finally arrived.

Holding a booklet, the education commissioner read out the examination rules as he walked, then announced the start.

Only then did Zhou Jinian unhurriedly break the seal on his papers and skim the questions. As expected, three questions came from the Four Books, each requiring an answer of no more than seven hundred characters.

For the poetry section, "lotus" was the assigned theme, and candidates had to compose a regulated poem with seven characters per line.

The candidate in the cubicle opposite Zhou Jinian had already begun writing furiously. The two appointed guarantor licentiates patrolled back and forth along the corridor, while the guards overseeing the examination made their rounds at longer intervals.

Seeing Zhou Jinian still sitting upright and composed, the old licentiate felt no urgency. He had already received his guarantor's fee, after all, and did not care whether Zhou Jinian passed.

Zhou Jinian went over his answers in his mind before picking up his brush to write...

At noon, the guards began distributing lunch: two steamed buns per person. Ideas flowed freely for Zhou Jinian, and after answering two questions, he handed a guard the copper coins he had prepared and bought a pot of boiling water.

As he gnawed on a steamed bun and drank hot rice porridge, he heard a candidate coughing his lungs out in the distance. Most scholars were physically frail, neither exercising nor doing manual work.

Zhou Jinian, on the other hand, exercised often, chopping firewood, sweeping the courtyard, and helping Ninglang mince meat for fillings.

He also slept with an icy-cold person in his arms every night. He had trained himself into robust health and did not fear the cold at all.

The candidate opposite Zhou Jinian kept looking over at him, earning a warning tap on the windowsill from an appointed guarantor. The fault lay entirely with the enticing aroma of Zhou Jinian's steeped rice porridge; Xie Ning had been generous with the ingredients and stir-fried it until wonderfully fragrant.

Only after eating and drinking his fill, with hot broth in his stomach, did Zhou Jinian pick up his brush to resume answering the questions.

As the education commissioner made his rounds, he first noticed Zhou Jinian's fine appearance, steady hands, and posture as straight as a pine, and took a liking to him. He moved closer for a look, but the candidate remained as steady as Mount Tai. The education commissioner nodded inwardly.

His gaze then fell on the examination paper. The standard academy script was elegant and lustrous, graceful, proper, and well-rounded. Excellent handwriting! The name field read Zhou Jinian. Stroking his beard, the education commissioner walked on.

Zhou Jinian gazed thoughtfully at the character for "lotus." His first thought was of Ninglang, who had once fallen into a lotus pond, and then of Ninglang's fair skin, emerging from the mud unstained...

After finishing his poem, Zhou Jinian put down his brush and waited for the examination bell to ring, when the guards would come to seal all the papers.

Fortunately, the early spring weather was cold, so there was little unpleasant odor in the examination cubicles. Now and then, however, a frail candidate caught a chill and coughed without stopping. Those wrenching coughs made the listeners' own hearts and lungs ache.

At a quarter past five in the morning, the examination bell finally rang. The guards came one after another to seal the papers, still working in pairs: one collected the money, a hundred wen from each candidate, while the other sealed the papers.

Once all five of their papers had been collected, the old licentiate led them out through the examination grounds' exit.

The moment they emerged, the scholars began chattering away in animated discussion. Zhou Jinian ran into Zhou Wenshu and his sixth uncle, Zhou Liufeng.

Zhou Wenshu came over to greet him. "Second Brother, which inn are you staying at?"

"The Tong Family Inn," Zhou Jinian answered, without addressing either man respectfully.

Zhou Wenshu and Zhou Liufeng looked somewhat pleased at his misfortune, but neither said anything about it. Zhou Wenshu invited him, "I'm having dinner with my classmates to discuss today's examination questions. Would you like to join us?"

The examination was already over, and Zhou Jinian had no interest in that. Besides, he knew that when Zhou Wenshu's group of scholars gathered, they would barely exchange a few words on the actual subject.

"No, I already have plans with the Xie family's eldest son. Enjoy yourselves." Zhou Jinian nodded to them and headed back to the Tong Family Inn with Xie Yao.

Zhou Jinian had indeed predicted things perfectly. Zhou Wenshu and his classmates booked a fine private room at a restaurant, where they drank and chatted merrily. After a little conversation, one of the older men said, "Becoming a licentiate is only the beginning. Once we travel to the capital for the examinations, there'll be so many delightful romantic encounters along the way..."

"Hahaha..." Everyone laughed heartily. Zhou Wenshu was not yet engaged, so it was natural for his imagination to run wild.

But Zhou Liufeng was no longer young and already had a wife and son, yet he harbored the same lovely dream. He hoped things would turn out just as they did in the storybooks: first receiving an official post in the capital, then being chosen by an inspecting censor as a son-in-law, and finally divorcing his wife to marry into a more influential family.

There were countless scholars like him in the Great Qing Dynasty. There was a tofu seller who sold tofu every day to support her licentiate husband's examination pursuits. The year of the provincial examination, he left and vanished without a word. After she waited bitterly for three years, a letter of divorce arrived at her home. It turned out that her husband had passed with distinction and caught an inspecting censor's eye; he had long since married into a powerful family!

Most scholars of the time, upon hearing this story, merely said the licentiate husband was fortunate to have encountered such an opportunity, and all yearned for the same.

The scholars drank themselves into a drunken haze and supported one another back to the inn.

Zhou Liufeng had spent nine years taking examinations and had plenty of experience, so he had only indulged in a few cups. Looking at the drunken group, he thought, Don't blame me, classmates. The competition is fierce, and I've grown afraid of these examinations myself. This tenth year, I must become a licentiate.

The next day, it took the inn's waiter pounding on their doors to wake the scholars. The innkeeper stood nearby, shaking his head. It seemed his inn would not be producing the top-ranked candidate this year.