Chapter 46: On the Eve of the Results

Li Su swore to himself that he must take first place. He had always been top of his class even without his family present; there was no reason that having them accompany him now would result in a worse performance.

Before getting off the carriage, Li Su declared confidently to the three accompanying him, “Mother, Master, Uncle Lin, just wait and see—I’ll take first place this time.”

Both Xi Sheng and Uncle Lin had absolute faith in Li Su’s ability. Though Feng Cui Cui didn’t quite know how skilled Li Su was, since her little fourth son spoke with such certainty, she chose to believe him as well.

Uncle Lin beamed. “Young master, if you set your mind on being first, there’s no doubt about it.”

Xi Sheng handed Li Su a food box. “Go on in, then. The weather is cold, so take care of your health.” Many failed not for lack of knowledge, but because their bodies couldn’t endure; it was common enough during the provincial and metropolitan exams for candidates to be carried out before they finished.

Li Su nodded vigorously as he took the food box. He had never neglected his physical conditioning and was well aware of its importance.

He hadn’t tasted pork, but he’d seen pigs run—he’d read enough historical accounts to know what to expect.

He joined the line to be searched before entering the exam hall. The bailiffs meticulously inspected each candidate for concealed cheating materials. There were always those who thought they could outsmart the system, but in reality, they were always caught and dragged away.

When it was Li Su’s turn, he spread his arms wide—one bailiff frisked him, while another checked his examination basket. The steamed buns inside had been broken into crumbs, no longer resembling buns at all.

A bailiff led Li Su to his assigned spot; he was lucky, avoiding what was known as a “foul stall.”

A “foul stall” referred to seats near the latrines or in poorly ventilated, foul-smelling corners. To endure such an environment while staying focused on the exam was a true test of body and mind, making the challenge even greater.

Li Su’s exam cell was in a more central area. It was his first time seeing an ancient examination cell with his own eyes: rows upon rows of small, crude compartments, each about six feet high and four feet wide, divided by wooden boards. A low wall with a plank served as a desk by day, and the plank could be laid flat at night as a makeshift bed.

But since this was only the county exam—even though there were five sessions, all were held and submitted on the same day. There was no need to stay overnight in the cells. Between sessions, there was a three- or four-day gap before the results were posted; the five sessions spanned over half a month.

The first session tested Confucian classics—both the copied and interpretive sections. Li Su filled them out with ease.

The second session delved deeper into the classics and included more obscure topics, along with poetry and prose composition. None of this posed any difficulty for Li Su.

The third session focused on policy essays and included basic questions on current laws. Thanks to constant practice and accumulation, policy essays were now Li Su’s strong suit rather than his weakness.

The fourth session required analysis of historical events and contemporary policies—a test of the candidate’s ability to handle administrative documents.

The fifth session was a comprehensive assessment: classics, policy essays, poetry, prose, and arithmetic, with greater emphasis on evaluating overall ability.

After carefully completing the first session, Li Su set his brush down and reviewed his answers. Satisfied, he thought, This first session is in the bag.

The results for the first session were posted the very next day, with a “circle list” indicating the examination cell numbers of those who passed. Li Su didn’t even go check himself; Uncle Lin did it for him.

Li Su was at ease about the results. After all five sessions, he felt the questions were much easier than those his master had set for him—truly not on the same level.

But he kept these thoughts to himself. Seeing his three close friends worried and uncertain—some unsure of their answers, others dissatisfied with their essays and poems—he realized not everyone felt the same.

The posting of the final results took longer than for the previous sessions. The final “long list” required tallying all scores to determine the rankings.

In the earlier rounds, candidates were anonymous. Only cell numbers were posted on the circle list; names and rankings were published only in the final long list.

This year was special—the New Year fell after the county exam. Li Su planned to wait for the results with Feng Cui Cui and Li Zhengqiang, then buy New Year’s provisions to celebrate at home, inviting his master and Uncle Lin as well.

He’d always spent previous New Years alone; this would be the liveliest one in years. Li Su couldn’t help but smile.

Lin Ze said nervously, “The results are out tomorrow. I wonder how I did…”

Li Su sipped his wine. “The exams are over. What’s done is done. We’ll know tomorrow.”

Lin Ze patted his chest. “I really envy how calm you are, Su. I keep dreaming about the exams—or that I failed.”

“I think, unless something unexpected happens, you’ll all be fine this time.” Li Su was well aware of his friends’ abilities from their years studying together in private school.

Qin Ming looked at him curiously. “Su, did you divine our results?”

Li Su paused, then remembered his reputation as something of a fortune-teller.

He merely smiled, saying nothing. Though he had spoken casually, the other three believed him completely.

Lin Ze clapped his hands. “Su must have divined it. If he says we’re fine, then we must be fine.”

The three of them decided to check the results together the next day, had a few more drinks, then each returned home.

…

Grandpa Ren noticed that after Ren Shuhua returned, he no longer looked worried, but rather relaxed. Grandpa Ren asked, puzzled, “The results are out tomorrow, and now you’re not nervous? A couple of days ago, you were so anxious you couldn’t eat or sleep.”

Ren Shuhua replied calmly, “Su has already divined our results. We’ll be fine. Now it’s the next round we should worry about.”

Grandpa Ren was baffled. “I won’t deny Li Su is impressive, but his abilities are his own, not yours. How can he know you’ll be fine?” Grandpa Ren didn’t really believe; he hadn’t placed much hope on his grandson passing this time.

Though his grandson had studied diligently for nearly a year, diligence alone didn’t guarantee success in the imperial exams—there was never any shortage of hard-working candidates.

In Grandpa Ren’s eyes, his grandson’s chances would be better if he tried again next year. But the boy insisted on taking the exam this year to gain experience, so Grandpa Ren let him—but without high expectations.

“Su just knows. He’s very accurate,” Ren Shuhua insisted, glancing at Grandpa Ren disapprovingly.

Grandpa Ren could only sigh. “We’ll see tomorrow if he’s right.” He simply couldn’t believe Li Su’s fortune-telling.

It wasn’t that Grandpa Ren doubted the possibility of fortune-telling itself, but Li Su was so young—he just didn’t seem credible.

The next morning, the results hall was crowded with people. Li Su quietly moved to the back. Early or late, the results would be the same; he preferred to wait a bit longer before looking.