29. Some things, in the end, were bound to happen.

The spring examinations in Yangzhou released their results today. This year’s announcement was delayed by a full three months because the grading was not handled by the Ministry of Rites alone; instead, it required the joint review of all Six Ministries. Each examination paper had to circulate through all six before a final verdict could be rendered.

This was the result of a confrontation between imperial power and the scholar-official bloc, and even more so, the culmination of factional warfare. Perhaps because High Minister Gao’s power had grown too immense, even he felt that monopolizing such authority would lead to catastrophe. Thus, he eased his grip on the spring examinations, agreeing to this method of collective assessment.

"Young Mistress, what are you looking at?"

"Me? I am simply curious to see how many men are down there trying to secure a husband for themselves."

The speaker was Lady Tang, Tang Wanqiu. She rested her chin on her hand, watching the boisterous, sea-like crowd below with a sense of amusement. She had arrived from Luoyang several days ago to negotiate a business partnership and, having stumbled upon the results day, decided to linger for two more days. She had intended only to catch a glimpse of the spectacle, but she had not expected it to be quite so lively this year.

Because the Six Ministries were now conducting the review, the process—which historically prioritized the rigid Eight-Legged Essay and Neo-Confucian dogma—had introduced a new mechanism. With every ministry acting as a primary judge, this year’s successful candidates were an unusually eclectic bunch.

Watching the crowd, with some people acting as if possessed by mania and others beating their chests in despair, Lady Tang found the scene quite entertaining. Among them, one person stood out—a slender, handsome youth. What was most striking about him was not his refined appearance, but his utter composure in the face of both honor and humiliation.

"That one is interesting. Judging by how he converses with others, he must have passed, yet his lack of joy or sorrow is quite rare."

Seated by the window, Lady Tang began to critique him: "He does not appear to be a scholar from a prominent house, but his temperament is truly impressive."

"If you ask me, Young Mistress, I think you have taken a liking to him! And why not? He is handsome and dashing, and that white robe of his is quite pleasing."

The maid’s remark made Lady Tang burst into laughter. She then turned and leaned back against her bamboo chair. "Never, ever look for a scholar. Have you forgotten why my sister took her own life? If it weren't for that wretched scholar, she would never have come to such an end."

"Young Mistress, there are so many scholars in this world. Why must you condemn them all?"

"There are many, indeed, but they are all nothing more than sycophants chasing influence."

Lady Tang adjusted her posture, gently waving the round fan in her hand. With one shoulder partially exposed, she exuded a sense of languid elegance. As the most renowned merchant family in Luoyang, the Tangs were no minor house, yet the family had dwindled in numbers over the years. In her generation, there were no male heirs left, save for a few distant relatives.

Now that Tang Wanqiu had taken up the mantle of the family, she bore the responsibility of maintaining its prosperity. Yet, from the bottom of her heart, she despised these scholars. It was because, when she was nine years old, she had witnessed her own sister hang herself, leaving two lives lost in that room. It all boiled down to her sister having loved the wrong man—a man who, in order to climb the social ladder, had abandoned her beautiful, gentle sister and the child in her womb.

That man was now incredibly successful, having married the daughter of the Minister of Revenue. His career was thriving, he had attained the fourth rank, and his future looked bright. But his current wealth and status had been bought with the lives of her sister and her unborn child. Every time she thought of it, Lady Tang felt a surge of disgust, not just toward scholars, but toward all men.

Just then, a knock came at the door. Lady Tang quickly straightened her clothes and ordered the maid to open it. When the door swung wide, there stood the very same young scholar who had been chatting so effortlessly by the results board.

"I am Ye Liangchen, from Suzhou. Seeing you by the window earlier, I found myself entranced. I could not help but come to seek you out. I hope you will forgive my intrusion."

"Young Mistress, Young Mistress... he has come looking for you!" the maid whispered, having rushed in from outside. "You should go see him; he looks like a decent man."

Lady Tang did not reply; she merely gave a light huff, rose, and walked to the outer parlor. She saw Ye Liangchen still standing at the door, holding his folding fan and bowing in a polite, scholarly manner.

"Forgive your intrusion? If you knew it was an offense, why come at all? And if you have already come, why call it an offense? If I forgive you, what then? And if I do not?"

Despite her soft, delicate appearance, Lady Tang possessed a sharp tongue. Her rapid-fire questions caught Ye Liangchen completely off guard. He had never encountered anyone like her before. The smile that had been blooming on his face froze, and his mind raced to process the logic, finding that no matter how he answered, he seemed to be in the wrong.

"I placed first in the provincial examinations and first in the metropolitan examinations. I have achieved two consecutive top honors."

It was a mismatch of conversation. Because he could not answer the question, he suffered a logical conflict, causing him to automatically bypass the issue and trigger a pre-set response. But such an answer clearly failed to satisfy Lady Tang.

"What if you had placed first in all three? Lamei, show him the door."

The door slammed shut with a bang. Lady Tang’s utter lack of mercy left the newly minted metropolitan graduate, Ye Liangchen, feeling humiliated. He retreated a few steps, his expression shifting from shock to resentment. The feeling of being so nakedly insulted ignited a groundless hatred in his heart. He had arrived with a smile, but he left with a face as cold as frost.

After he departed, Lady Tang stood at the window, watching his retreating figure, her eyes filled with nothing but mockery. The maid, standing to the side, said with concern, "Young Mistress, if you treat him so harshly and he becomes a high official in the future, won't he make things difficult for us?"

Lady Tang did not answer directly, simply sipping her tea. "When I watched him from afar, I thought he looked like a figure from a painting. But when he came to the door, I found him nauseating—his every word was pure affectation. Had he simply said he was captivated by my beauty or desired to meet me, I would not have been so disgusted. But he chose to brag about his exam results. Ha, how laughable. Does someone who can afford the top suite at the Wangchun Tower care about how many exams he passed?"

Every word of Lady Tang’s was laced with scorn, her aura standing in stark contrast to her soft, delicate appearance.

At that moment, Xia Lin, having just woken up, was lying on his bed, listlessly scrolling through his phone. He was re-reading his own trashy novel with great interest, and he just happened to reach the chapter where Ye Liangchen takes the top spot in the Yangzhou exams and meets a beauty outside Suzhou.

"Ah? Damn it."

Seeing this, Xia Lin sat bolt upright in bed and cursed. The first girl this Ye Liangchen met was none other than Tang Wanqiu, the merchant lady from Luoyang.

He wrote that the two met by chance on a small boat outside Suzhou, where Ye Liangchen won her heart with a poem. Back then, Xia Lin had thought the plot he designed was incredibly clever, but looking at it now, he found it even more vulgar than his own life—insufferably trite.

Who would fall hopelessly in love with someone just because of a poem? Except for a little princess, but how old was she? For an adult to do that would be moronic, as if a girl in the modern world were to fall in love with someone because she saw an essay titled "How Happy I Was on Today’s Field Trip" on a school bulletin board.

While there was no direct comparison, the implication was much the same—it was simply preposterous. While it was possible to be enamored with someone based on a poem or an article, that was surely just an idealized imagination before actually meeting the person.

After all, one hears of stars or underground idols sleeping with fans, but who has ever heard of a web novelist sleeping with fans? The fan base isn't small, yet the probability of such a thing happening is lower than that of a guild leader in a video game.

"They won't meet now, will they..."

Xia Lin was frantic. He truly liked Lady Tang. If things followed the normal plot, by the time he finished his business and entered the city, at least three years would have passed. By then, according to the story, Lady Tang would have been a member of Ye Liangchen’s harem for two and a half years.

But he suddenly thought of a problem: Ye Liangchen’s poem had been copied from a smartphone, and now, he had that phone in his own hands. In other words, Ye Liangchen couldn't copy the poem. If he couldn't copy the poem, he wouldn't take the initiative to attend the poetry gathering held in the Suzhou area, and if he didn't attend the poetry gathering, he wouldn't meet Lady Tang.

Ah~~~ thinking of that made him feel much better.

Of course, Xia Lin knew that his own chances of meeting Lady Tang were slim, and even if he did, who knew if she would already be married?

But even so, he absolutely could not let that piece of trash, Ye Liangchen, ruin her. In any case, Xia Lin had long had a plan: as soon as he gathered enough strength, the first thing he would do upon getting out was to deal with Ye Liangchen.

He would frame him for treason, and if he ever got the chance to execute him, he would slice the earthworms in his yard lengthwise and boil the bird eggs from the trees outside his house for ten minutes.

It’s true what they say—people work best when fueled by a grudge. To boil the bird eggs at Ye Liangchen’s house, the once-lazy Xia Lin sprang from his bed and shouted outside: "Sister Chuntao, if you have time, come out for a stroll with me. I want to go to the river to confirm the exact location for the workshop."

"Coming," Chuntao replied, stepping out quickly. "Are we going now?"

"Yes, sorry for the trouble, Sister Chuntao."