Chapter 64

Inside the courtyard, the three walked side by side.

"Brother, may I ask your name?"

A scholar with a gentle face stopped first, bowed, and spoke.

None of those who could appear here were fools. Seeing the chief examiner Meng Xun standing outside the courtyard wall, and the three people who had appeared, all three knew that the final three spots in the literary examination would likely fall to them.

Since ancient times, the literary path has had the saying "literature befriends" and "literature gathers friends." Regardless of the final ranking in the "Child Scholar Examination," it wasn't a bad thing to get to know each other.

"Yang Ji."

"Lu Songlin."

"Du Wen."

...

After saying their names, the three smiled. They soon reached the entrance, where an old, hunched servant blocked their way.

"The old master has ordered that only one person can enter at a time."

The old servant's expression was serious and meticulous.

There was no point in arguing about this. Lu Songlin bowed and said, "Brother Yang, Brother Du, I'll go in first."

Lu Songlin lifted his robe and walked in confidently and calmly.

In just the time it took to burn an incense stick, Lu Songlin came out of the door, his steps unsteady and his mind distracted. He didn't respond to any questions, as if he had been greatly shaken, no longer the confident and calm person he was before.

The second to enter was Du Wen.

"The master's knowledge is truly profound."

Du Wen sighed as he came out of the door, looking at Yang Ji with a forced smile.

"Brother Yang, it's your turn."

"Oh."

Yang Ji blinked, deep in thought. There were three spots for "Child Scholar," and no matter what, all three would be admitted. It didn't seem like Lu Songlin and Du Wen were affected by this, but rather by something else.

Without much thought, Yang Ji took a step forward and walked in.

Inside the house with its blue bricks and green tiles, the decoration was very simple. As he walked in, he saw potted plum and bamboo plants everywhere, exuding a refined and simple atmosphere.

Pushing aside the last layer of blue cloth, Yang Ji immediately saw a large black and white bamboo painting. In front of the painting, he finally met the person the clerks had spoken of, who could represent the will of the court.

This was an elderly man with white temples, who looked very learned. He wore a faded blue robe and was sitting upright on a large bamboo chair with a brown backrest, looking at Yang Ji.

His gaze was stern and worldly, as if he could see through all the secrets of the world. The moment Yang Ji met his eyes, he felt as if he was being seen through from head to toe.

In front of this elderly man with white temples, it seemed no one could hide anything.

"Student Yang Ji, I greet you, Master."

Yang Ji took a deep breath, stepped forward, and bowed, his attitude humble and respectful.

The old man looked at Yang Ji and nodded slightly, then resumed his stern and serious demeanor.

"You are Yang Ji—"

The old man's eyes flashed with a sharp light. He reached out and picked up a pale white test paper from the tea table in front of him, and said sternly:

"Arrogant, talking nonsense, meaningless... Among the ten people I've seen today, your test paper is the worst. Tell me, why do you think you deserve to compete for the final three spots?"

Slap!

A flash of white, and the test paper was crumpled into a ball and thrown in front of Yang Ji.

Seeing the paper ball thrown in front of him, Yang Ji was completely stunned. Despite having anticipated various scenarios before coming, he hadn't expected this to happen.

"Why do you say that, Master? I have answered each question carefully and sincerely. If you really think my essay is worthless, you could simply dismiss me without further ado. Why go through the trouble of summoning me?"

Yang Ji paused, thinking, and then said:

"Moreover, selecting the best essays is the responsibility of the court, not something I can control. If you think my essay is too poor, please let me see and learn from the better ones, and give me your guidance."

Yang Ji bowed and reached out to pick up the paper ball from the ground.

"Ha ha ha, that's enough, no need to look!..."

On the large bamboo chair, the old man saw Yang Ji reaching for the paper ball and finally relaxed his tense face, laughing:

"Your test paper is still with me. The one thrown out was just a piece of scrap paper."

The old man then took out another stack of real test papers from a hidden compartment in the tea table. This was just a small test to see how the candidates would react. The paper thrown out was just a fake one filled with words.

If Yang Ji had reached for the paper ball, this test would not have continued.

Most people who entered this room, upon seeing the old man's gaze, would feel a sense of awe and behave properly. When scolded or belittled, they would either accept it respectfully, thinking the old man must have a reason, or they would be不服 (unconvinced) but refrain from speaking out of respect.

Few were like Yang Ji, who could admit his shortcomings but insisted on seeing concrete evidence to be convinced.

Moreover, everyone who entered was nervous, yet Yang Ji dared to reach for the paper ball, clearly suspecting something.

Such a test couldn't continue.

"Brave and wise, meticulous and thoughtful, not just a wooden-headed writer. Not bad."

The old man stroked his beard and smiled.

"Yang Ji, who is your teacher?"

Yang Ji breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he had passed this test. The old man exuded a strong aura of authority, far more powerful than Meng Xun, and seemed to be no ordinary person.

If there had been any slight dissatisfaction, this test might have been difficult to pass.

"I have no specific teacher. When I was young, my parents hired a tutor for me. Since then, I have been learning on my own."

Yang Ji thought for a moment and replied.

"Oh?"

The old man raised an eyebrow, looked at the test paper in his hand again, and was moved:

"No teacher? You can write such an essay!"

A Child Scholar-level examination producing an essay of such literary quality was a significant shock when he first heard about it.

Nowadays, the literary path has declined, and such talent is rare, from the highest nobility to the common people. He had thought it was the work of a respected scholar, but it turned out to be self-taught, which immediately sparked his interest in nurturing talent.

"Yang Ji, would you be willing to be my disciple?"

The old man thought for a moment and immediately said. These words were supposed to be said at the end, but he couldn't help but say them early.

As soon as these words were spoken, the room fell silent.

Yang Ji looked at the old man, silent, his mind racing. He had thought this visit was about the final ranking in the Child Scholar Examination, but it had taken an unexpected turn.

This surprised Yang Ji and left him somewhat unprepared.

Yang Ji had never considered the idea of finding a teacher in the literary path.

The room was quiet, and the sound of his heart beating could almost be heard. The old man said nothing, waiting for Yang Ji's response.

"Master, I'm sorry, but I have no intention of taking a teacher at the moment."

After a long pause, Yang Ji spoke, his voice gentle but his attitude firm.

Yang Ji had his own plans and ideas for his life. The literary path was just a part of his journey, not his ultimate goal.

"Oh, why?"

The old man was slightly shaken, surprised by this unexpected answer.

Before he could speak, someone else couldn't stand it anymore.

"Damn brat, do you know what you're saying? Master Shi wants to take you as a disciple, and you refuse. Do you know how many people outside would kill for this opportunity?"

A young clerk, looking furious, burst in from a side door, holding a document, ready to throw it at Yang Ji.

Master Shi's retirement and his search for a successor had been a hot topic in Pingchuan City, with many people vying for the position.

He had thought Yang Ji's remarkable talent would be recognized by Master Shi, but the boy's refusal made him furious.

"Rui Zhi, do you have something to say?"

The old man frowned and spoke sternly to the young clerk who had burst in.

"This, this, this... Student, student, I have a document."

The young clerk, who had been furious a moment ago, immediately became hesitant and nervous. He had been watching from behind and shouldn't have spoken, but he had lost control.

Fortunately, he quickly handed over the document and placed it on the tea table.

"Alright, you can leave. Don't come in without my order."

The old man, also known as Master Shi, waved his hand. He didn't look at the document on the table, knowing it was likely unimportant.

"Yes, yes, ... Master, you're busy."

The young clerk didn't dare to say anything more and quickly left, regretting his impulsiveness.

"Yang Ji, you heard what he said."

After the young clerk left, Master Shi spoke:

"My name is Shi, Shi Yu. I have another identity as the 'Imperial Tutor,' having taught the royal children for over a decade. Now that I am old, I have retired to my hometown. This time, I have returned to Pingchuan City to find a suitable disciple to inherit my legacy. If you agree, I can send you to the literary world for further study. This would be a great benefit to you."

"!!!"

Yang Ji was shocked. He had suspected the old man might be someone important, but he hadn't expected him to be an "Imperial Tutor," a position of great prestige.

"Imperial nobility," for someone like Yang Ji, who had never left Pingchuan County, was an unattainable existence. Yet this old man had been their teacher for over a decade.