Palace Fighting: Naive Concubines' Ascent to Power-Chapter 536: Submitting Papers in Advance

Lian Musu was somewhat helpless, "Lian Mu has checked it."

"Just that one..." The word "time" almost slipped out, but Minister Jia hurriedly held back, almost losing his self-control.

He had personally witnessed Lian Musu write the final character, set down the pen, calmly waited for the paper to dry, gathered it up, and looked over it just once, only once!

Not even a copy had been made!

During the imperial examination, not to mention submitting the manuscript early, even the ample time of a full day didn’t seem enough; contenders fought for every moment.

Even those with clear thoughts who finished writing early had no intention of submitting early; they wished they could check and recheck three or four times, fearing that a new inspiration might emerge that if not written down, would be regretted for life; they determined to continue until the very last moment.

As dusk neared, it was always the busiest time for the examinees, and in every session, in every examination hall, many who had not finished writing would furiously scribble until the last moment, causing their answer sheets to be smeared with large blobs of ink, a complete mess.

Who would submit their manuscript early?

At that moment, Minister Jia was extremely anxious, not because he lacked confidence in Lian Musu, but because he truly wished him well and hoped for an even more secure outcome.

He was just short of pointing it out directly, but could not breach the rules and could only do his best, finally insisting firmly, "Then check again to see if your name is written down and if there are any mistakes. This cannot be taken lightly; an unnamed manuscript can easily be lost."

Beside him, the Commander of the Imperial Guard—Commander Han—couldn’t help but glance sideways. With just this one examinee, even if the name wasn’t written, there wouldn’t be a problem, right?

Personally escorting him back, how could it possibly be lost?

These words sounded...

"Yes, thank you for the reminder, sir." Lian Musu, caught between laughter and tears, could only look toward his answer sheet and carefully check for his name, as Minister Jia had suggested.

After verifying, he looked up resolutely and said, "The writing is correct."

Minister Jia had no other recourse, and he sighed to himself, gesturing to Commander Han, "Please, Commander, collect the manuscript."

Commander Han nodded, turned to Lian Musu, and spoke solemnly, "If I take your answer sheet now, no further changes can be made, even if the time for submission has not yet arrived. Do you have any objections?"

This was a person His Majesty had personally come to observe. He was merely asking one more question, an effortless favor that made no difference.

In matters of scholarship, he was somewhat of an outsider, yet he could feel the unyielding spirit emanating from Lian Musu.

After escorting the Emperor back, he saw Lian Musu already holding the pen.

His temperament changed completely since he started writing; Lian Musu, once he took up the pen, seemed to stand out distinctly, transcendent and peerless as if above this mortal coil, with his writing resembling soldiers marching at the tip of his pen, leaping onto the paper, embodying the scholars’ integrity.

Had he not come in person, he would not have believed that such a person, merely sitting there quietly writing, could exude such an impressive aura, which was very pleasing and entertaining to the heart.

No wonder more and more onlookers were drawn to the scene.

The onlookers, including scholars who had taken the imperial examination, couldn’t help feeling a bitter taste in their hearts, recalling how during their own local exams, the moment the gong sounded to submit the papers, the guarded soldiers appeared fierce and ferocious as they collected the manuscripts, fearing the scholars would write an extra word.

But here, one was trying to submit a manuscript and was repeatedly deterred, making it so difficult.

People are just not born equal.

Lian Musu bowed to Commander Han and said with a firm voice, "No objections, please take the manuscript, sir."

"Very well." Commander Han didn’t dawdle, turned toward the crowd, and announced loudly, "Today, the Jieyuan of Taiyuan Prefecture, Lian Mu, has completed his re-examination. I will personally escort his manuscript to our Emperor to demonstrate impartiality."

With a wave of his hand, a person came forward, carrying the same box as before, and opened it.

Commander Han approached Lian Mu Su’s table, rolled up the dried ink manuscripts one by one, held them both; in his hands, and placed them in the box, then closed and locked it directly.

With that, the re-examination at Shanxue Square came to an end.

Before leaving, Commander Han said to Lian Mu Su, "Jieyuan Lian, please stay temporarily at the Imperial Academy to await the results."

This settled Lian Mu Su’s whereabouts for the time being.

Lian Mu Su said, "I will follow the arrangement of the officials; my thanks for your efforts today."

"It is our duty. Jieyuan Lian, I look forward to meeting you again. Han must leave now due to imperial orders."

After Commander Han finished speaking, he left with the Imperial Guards at the head of the procession.

Minister Jia, on the other hand, together with the officials and soldiers of Shuntian Prefecture who had been called in, began to maintain order, driving people away for half the day, yet many still did not wish to disperse.

Minister Jia had no choice but to let Lian Mu Su return to the Imperial Academy first to avoid the crowd from lingering.

Gradually, the crowd began to disperse, with citizens and scholars talking about today’s events in small groups as they slowly walked away.

Today’s events were indeed eye-opening for them, providing new topics of conversation and anticipation. In a few days, the results would be known, and it was uncertain whether Lian Mu Su would emerge victorious or the group of petitioning students from Taiyuan Prefecture.

Lian Bao led Wu Sheng, making sure that Lian Mu Su had entered the Imperial Academy before they took a less crowded path to leave.

A few among the crowd were still reluctant to leave.

Among those unwilling to leave were the Zheng surname scholars.

Especially that Zheng surname scholar, who was thoroughly impressed and wholeheartedly convinced by what he saw; his admiration was genuine.

Originally, he had come to see what was going on after hearing that Lian Mu Su could debate with Minister Qin. Then, irritated by the disputes with Tian Cuozi’s group and knowing that they supported the troublemaking candidates and belittled Lian Mu Su, his anger was piqued.

He had a disdain for Tian Cuozi’s group, thinking they had neither talent nor virtue, mistaking licentiousness for romance and imitation for elegance. He loathed them the most, considering them the dregs of the scholarly world, the filth among the literati.

Whatever his enemies opposed, he would support; whatever they favored, he would oppose. That was his nature.

Being quite proud, he seldom admired anyone and was known for his caustic tongue. He treated those he accepted with kindness, but he wouldn’t hesitate to satirize those he disliked if he happened to cross paths with them.

His enmity with Tian Cuozi’s group started because he had brutally ridiculed Tian Cuozi at a poetry gathering.

That gathering was personally organized by Tian Cuozi, whom he had heard of and presumed to be talented, which was why he attended.

Little did he know what a mess it would be. Not only were prostitutes invited to play music, which he tolerated,

His family’s strict upbringing forbade the presence of prostitutes. If his mother at home found out, she would undoubtedly break his legs.

However, he was aware that contemporary literati and scholars enjoyed the company of one or two brothel women; indeed, there were some talented ones among them, so he held his peace.

But when it came to imitating the ’floating wine goblets on a stream’ and each person composing a poem, he could no longer restrain himself.

The poetry they created was either tasteless or unsound, hardly worth mentioning. Had they any self-awareness, there might have been some hope for redemption.

But at that gathering, regardless of the quality of the poems, everyone would force themselves to offer exaggerated praise.

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