Chapter 70: The Name, Fang Lang

Beyond the sealed doors of the palace, eyes turned to stare at the excited grader.

A grader could nominate exceptional works to be evaluated by the lead grader. However, graders would often shortlist a few candidates and perform a round of detailed comparison before putting forth recommendations.

It was rare to witness graders unabashedly shout out a recommendation in the midst of grading.

“Silence!”

The head grader in the hall shushed.

“Provide your reasoning for the nomination and hand it over to the lead grader responsible for your zone. I will have a look as well.”

That was the proper nomination process. The head grader followed the procedure meticulously though a part of him was eager to see what had elicited such a huge response from the fellow grader.

A nomination meant the grader deemed the candidate’s work was worth a perfect score.

The lead grader who was responsible for Luojiang Examination Tower had a dark expression.

He had just received orders from the right administrator to be more stringent when it came to the Luojiang City papers, yet his subordinate nominated a candidate’s work?

It was a slap to the lead grader’s face.

The lead grader was aware the instructions came down from the third prince.

Therefore, he had to be thorough when checking the nomination.

Silence fell over the room again as the graders got back to grading.

The grader who was responsible for the outburst was writing down his reason for the recommendation with utmost zeal.

In the eyes of this grader, the candidate’s poem was terrific. However, what made him squeal was the answer to the policy question. The pragmatic views elicited strong emotions from him.

The foresight and long-term planning detailed in the essay was the reason why the grader was taken aback.

He handed over the candidate’s exam script and the nomination slip to the lead grader in charge of Luojiang Examination Tower. The unfriendly gaze of his superior deterred him from staying any longer. He scurried back to his seat and continued grading the rest of the papers.

The lead grader cleared his throat.

He rustled the papers and let his eyes roam through the writing, a critical look on his face. He would grade this work with the highest requirements.

‘The memorization and history questions were objective by nature. There’s no point picking at this section.’

The lead grader carried on to the next section.

Gradually, his expression changed.

When he finished reading the poem, he let out a breath. The poem was written with great flair and there was not much to criticize.

The next page!

The lead grader’s expression was unpleasant but he continued the evaluation. His eyes widened as he read the opening line for the policy essay.

Unknowingly, the lead grader was captivated by the well-thought-out discussions put forth in the policy essay.

After a long moment, he huffed out a breath.

“The right administrator? The third prince? Who were they in the face of the sacred Imperial Examination?

“To bury this work would be a sin!”

The poem was secondary. The foresight presented in the candidate’s policy essay was astounding. The lead grader could not bury such talent.

He took a deep breath and picked up his brush. He marked the script as nominated.

…

The night grew darker.

In the depths of the palace, a figure laid on his side before the desk. A jug of wine stood on the desk. The figure grabbed the jug and poured—the stream of alcohol swirled in the cup.

He gulped down the cup of wine and let out a sigh.

Then, he retrieved the sheathed sword on the desk. Under the orange candlelight, he pulled out the sword and admired the carvings on the blade.

Outside the door, the head grader had arrived. The man entered politely with a bow.

“Chancellor Lu.”

The figure inside put down the sword and took a sip of wine. With a smile, he said, “Yes?”

The head grader handed up a sheet of papers. “This submission has been nominated for the perfect score in this round of examinations. As the preparer of the Imperial Examination, please have a look.”

Lu Taixuan took the examination script.

He flipped through the papers and read the entries.

A moment later, Lu Taixuan picked up the jug of wine and chugged down a good portion of it.

“Great wine for the great poetry!

“Excellent essay!”

The head grader was surprised by the grand chancellor’s reaction.

Joy danced in the head grader’s eyes—if Chancellor Lu agreed with the policy essay, it would be used as a standard for the grading.

The head grader left the building. Back in the grading hall, he announced that answers rejecting the individual border regiment policy would be granted bonus marks.

…

On the tenth of August, the combat assessment began.

The autumn rain stopped in the middle of the night. The temperature fell a few degrees, suggesting some light snow was to be expected.

Fang Lang’s forehead was beaded with sweat. He gradually opened his eyes and breathed out. He had used another Physical Buff Card to strengthen his physical body.

However, since he had graduated from the rank of disciple, the Physical Buff Card did not work as effectively and the pain was much more manageable.

He stretched before getting up and changing into a fresh set of green robes. He stepped out of his room and basked in the sunlight. He exhaled a breath of stale air.

After breakfast, he took the carriage and arrived at Luojiang Examination Tower with Old Fang.

Like the day before, the venue was filled with candidates and their companions. People milled around the shut gates of the examination tower, waiting for the admissions to begin.

Dang!

The familiar bell rang. A rustling sound was heard as candidates clutched at their examination handbook and shuffled forward.

Fang Lang bade farewell to his father and entered the examination hall. He took his seat at the same desk.

The combat assessment was split into the written and practical sections, just like the academy examinations.

The morning was the written section, the afternoon was the practical combat.

For most students, a whole morning was sufficient to complete the written assessment.

For Fang Lang who was aiming for the highest distinction, the time might not be in his favor. He wanted to answer all major sections of the three masteries—every second had to be utilized to the fullest!

When the bell rang for the second time, the head examiner materialized a stack of papers from his space ring. He ordered the examiners to distribute the papers.

Every candidate received three large piles of papers. Each paper represented one mastery and contained a major studies section and a minor studies section.

Candidates had to answer at least one major studies section in order to qualify for a combat written score.

Fang Lang raised his brush and dipped it in ink. He started with the sword mastery paper. His answers spilled onto the paper like an ocean wave, quick and unrelenting.

Like the theoretical assessment, the difficulty for this year’s paper was hiked up a notch.

Candidates in the Luojiang Examination Tower were anxious in their seats.

Despite the cool autumn climate, many candidates were sweating. Some had tears in their eyes while others chewed on their brushes. Eyes were darting left and right, the candidates looking as if they would faint any moment.

Unlike the theoretical assessment which allowed for freeform writing, the written section for the combat assessment was incredibly specialized. If one did not know the answer, no amount of hand-wringing and nail-biting would help.

Minutes and hours passed. Several candidates could not stand the pressure and decided to hand in their papers as is.

Some answered whatever they could before submitting the papers.

Fang Lang never stopped writing since the bell rang. His spiritual sense was in overdrive as thoughts fired in his mind. He answered one question after another.

There were 108 questions in the major section of the sword mastery paper. He completed every single one of them. His answer sheet was filled with his flowy handwriting.

Then, he picked the spell mastery’s major section and took a deep breath. He began answering the 108 questions.

The morning sun crept slowly across the sky. Soon, it reached the apex and warm light cascaded overhead.

Luojiang Examination Tower barely had any candidates left. This year’s paper was too difficult and the majority of candidates decided to give up. They placed their hopes in the upcoming practical combat.

In the cavernous hall, Fang Lang was the only green robe left. He focused on his writing.

The hall was dead silent but for the rustling of a single candidate’s brush.

Several examiners held cups in their hands, occasionally glancing at Fang Lang.

The boy was ambitious to answer three major sections.

However, he must be careful not to bite off more than he could chew. Each paper required a certain level of specialization and if something was amiss, it might backfire and cause a bad impression.

Moreover, in the previous Imperial Examinations, no one had successfully completed all three major sections.

No one!

Dang!

The last bell rang.

The head examiner stood up and shouted, “Time’s up! Put down your brushes!”

Fang Lang made his last stroke and slammed his brush down on the desk. He exhaled deeply.

He stood up and folded his hands. He took a deep bow before the examiners and left the examination hall by his lonesome.

When the examiner collected his papers, he was shocked to find all 328 questions answered.

The boy had completed all three major sections!

…

In the Tang Dynasty’s Ministry of Rites.

The theoretical assessment score was published.

Zhao Wuji brought the carriage to a halt at the entrance of the ministry. The blinds of the carriage were swept aside and out came a tall and slender woman. The beautiful woman had exquisite features.

Zhao Wuji trailed behind the woman respectfully. As they entered the main hall of the Ministry of Rites, they encountered the third prince and the right administrator, Li Puyi.

The third prince gave the beautiful woman a gentle smile. “Princess.”

Princess Pei Shi was Jiang Linglong’s mother. After a polite exchange of greetings, she carried on walking into the hall.

In the horizon, a flash of light zoomed through the autumn sky, tearing through the clouds. The flight sword slowed down and a white-robed, white-haired man disembarked. Chao Xiaojian strode fearlessly into the main hall, chest and abdomen exposed.

Chao Xiaojian’s appearance took both the third prince and the princess by surprise.

The undisciplined Chao Xiaojian had never cared for the Imperial Examination. Why was he there to check on the theoretical assessment results?

“I’m here to check on that kid’s results. He dared to turn down my invitation to join the Sword Guild. Let me see what he’s capable of. I’m gonna mock him if his results are barely passing.”

Chao Xiaojian grinned. His hair was white as snow.

Hearing the mentioned name, the third prince smirked. With his instructions, that boy should not stand a chance in the Imperial Examination.

A series of footsteps sounded—the Minister of Rites and a few other officials walked out with the scores

The scroll unfurled inch by inch.

Zhao Wuji’s eyes were locked on the top position. His eyes went wide and he let out a shocked cry when he saw the results.

Chao Xiaojian muttered a curse under his breath. He was agitated. ‘How?’

The smirk on the third prince’s face disappeared when he saw the name at the top of the list. It was a metaphorical slap across his face.

“Fang Lang, Luojiang Academy, 150 points.”

Fang Lang’s name was at the very top of the theoretical assessment scoreboard.

He was the best and the brightest!