Chapter Seventeen: The Imperial Examinations Approaching, Shadows of Conspiracy Emerging

Chapter 17 Approaching the Metropolitan Examination, Shadows in the Dark

Lin Shiya stood at the center of her ransacked room, her gaze coldly sweeping over the chaos strewn across the floor. The air was heavy with a suffocating sense of oppression, as if countless unseen eyes were lurking in the darkness, watching her every move.

She knelt slowly, her fingers tracing the scattered books, a barely perceptible thread of anger and resolve flickering in her icy eyes. “Who did this?” she muttered, her voice carrying an unquestionable authority.

Rising swiftly, she began to inspect every corner of the room with meticulous care. The bedding had been overturned, the pillows torn open, even the small wooden chest in the corner had been pried open, its contents spilled everywhere. Her gaze finally landed on the window frame, where fresh scratches marred the wood—a clear sign that someone had entered or exited through it.

She walked over, gently pushing open the window. The chill of the night wind swept in, carrying with it the coldness of the darkness. She took a deep breath, striving to calm the fury that roiled within her.

From the street outside, the distant clamor of the night market drifted up, the lively façade masking undercurrents of intrigue and danger. She lifted her eyes to the night sky, her thoughts turbulent, yet her gaze betrayed not a hint of wavering—only a firmer resolve.

Turning back to the center of the room, her eyes fell on the writing implements scattered across the desk: brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone, all in disarray, and some of her exam books were missing. Her fingertips brushed the cold surface of the inkstone, the chill seeping deeper into her heart.

She understood this was no accident. Someone had orchestrated this to prevent her from sitting for the imperial examination.

“Did you think you could break me so easily?” Her voice was low, but carried a steely determination.

She began to gather the books, placing them back in order. With each movement, she displayed a calm composure, as though the chaos around her was incapable of shaking her resolve. The oppressive atmosphere in the room gradually dissipated, subdued by her measured poise; only the scratches by the window bore silent witness to what had transpired.

Placing the last brush on the table, she clenched her fists, her eyes alight with unwavering strength. Drawing a deep breath, she walked to the door. The moment she opened it, a shadow flitted swiftly past outside, and her gaze sharpened instantly, as keen as a blade.

She did not give chase. Instead, she stood quietly at the threshold, lips curling into a slight, knowing smile—already formulating her response.

“If you wish to play cat and mouse, you’re far too green for that,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding, brooking no defiance.

With that, she closed the door softly behind her, turned back into the room, and began to prepare for the coming examination.

Lin Shiya did not panic. She surveyed her surroundings with the sharpness of a hawk. To her, the room was not a scene of devastation, but a puzzle waiting to be solved.

She noted the fresh, deep scratches on the window, likely left in a hasty escape. Beneath the marks, a smudge of soil stained the sill—darker and finer than the earth in the inn’s courtyard.

“Soil from the western embankment…” she murmured, scenes of the riverbank at the city’s west flashing through her mind. The soil there was moist, dark, and matched the stain exactly.

A confident smile played at her lips.

She stepped out of her room, watching the inn’s occupants with quiet scrutiny. The innkeeper, Sun Fugui, greeted guests with a sycophantic grin, but his eyes flickered with unease. Several guests wore various expressions—some whispered conspiratorially, others feigned calm, and yet others looked completely bewildered.

Lin Shiya took in their reactions, her mind already calculating.

Her hired driver, Master Wu, sat trembling in a corner, pale and evasive.

She strode straight up to him, her tone even but edged with command. “Master Wu, are there any inns along the western river embankment?”

Wu shuddered, stammering, “Th-th-there are a few… small… inns…”

“Take me there.” Her voice brooked no refusal.

Wu dared not disobey, and with trembling nerves, led Lin Shiya toward the west.

By the riverside, several shabby inns clustered by the water’s edge. Guided by the traces of soil, Lin Shiya quickly singled out one.

She pushed open the door. A musty odor greeted her. The place was empty, save for a pile of clutter in the corner.

Her eyes fell on that heap—half-concealed were her missing exam books.

She sifted through the debris and soon recovered all her belongings, including the pried-open wooden box. Though the contents were scattered, nothing was missing. At the bottom of the box, she found a scrap of cloth stained with soil—the color identical to Master Wu’s garment.

Lin Shiya returned to the inn, bringing both Wu and the evidence before everyone. Wu, terrified, finally confessed: he had stolen Lin Shiya’s exam materials at another’s behest.

“Who put you up to this?” Lin Shiya demanded, her voice sharp.

Wu’s lips quivered, yet he dared not name his instigator. His gaze darted nervously before settling on a nondescript figure in the crowd—a man quietly edging away.

“Trying to slip away?” Lin Shiya sneered.

With a movement swift as the wind, she seized the would-be escapee—a man in coarse clothes, none other than Zhao Er, the examinee who had earlier pretended composure in the inn.

Caught red-handed, Zhao Er’s face turned ashen, terror filling his eyes.

Without giving him a chance to protest, Lin Shiya handed both men over to Innkeeper Sun Fugui, instructing him to guard them until the authorities arrived.

Just as Lin Shiya believed the matter settled, a knock sounded at her door. Opening it, she was handed an unsigned letter by a hurried inn servant.

Unfolding the note, she found neat handwriting laced with chilling menace: “Lin Shiya, if you value your life, you’d best withdraw from the examination. Otherwise, the consequences are yours to bear.”

The ink was barely dry, as if the words themselves hissed like vipers in the room’s silence.

Lin Shiya’s face grew cold as she gripped the letter, her knuckles whitening with the force. The fire in her eyes blazed brighter—this was not merely a threat, but a provocation.

A cold smile curved her lips, a hint of lethal intent coiling around her. To think she would retreat was nothing short of delusion.

She, Lin Shiya, would never bow to threats.

Without hesitation, she turned on her heel and walked straight to the city yamen, presenting the letter to the constable.

The officer’s expression darkened as he read the message and hurried to report it to his superiors.

Lin Shiya stood tall before the yamen gates, like a drawn sword—steadfast and unafraid. The gathered townsfolk were stunned by her actions, breaking into whispers. Some marveled at her courage; others feared she would draw even greater trouble upon herself.

Yet Lin Shiya stood silent, exuding a righteous aura that few dared to meet directly.

Soon, the authorities launched a thorough investigation. Constables fanned out across the capital, and tension gripped the city. Lin Shiya’s boldness was like a stone cast into a tranquil lake, sending ripples of justice through the streets.

Late that night, Lin Shiya returned to her room. Her gaze rested on the table, where an oil lamp flickered weakly. She sat, picked up a brush, and wrote a few lines. Then, blowing out the lamp, she let darkness fill the room. Only the distant cries of night birds filtered in from outside.

“It seems the real show is yet to begin…” she whispered, a meaningful smile curving her lips.

The capital’s officials acted with swift resolve. Within three days, the truth was uncovered. The ones who had spread rumors and set Wu to steal her materials were a group of examinees jealous of Lin Shiya’s talent and fearful she might outshine them in the metropolitan examination.

These men, long proud of their abilities, had been humiliated when bested by a “woman” in the provincial exams, their resentment festering. Lacking the courage to confront her openly, they resorted to such despicable tactics, hoping to unnerve her and ruin her preparations.

Exposed, they were sharply reprimanded by the authorities, ordered to confine themselves and cause no further trouble.

News spread quickly, and Lin Shiya’s reputation soared. Those who had once envied her now looked on with awe and dared not show the slightest disrespect.

Lin Shiya paid the matter no mind, pouring all her energy into her studies—burning the midnight oil, her pen never idle. She knew that only by her own efforts could she truly prove her worth and silence the ill-intentioned once and for all.

The day of the metropolitan examination arrived at last.

Morning sunlight spilled over the capital’s bustling streets, the air thick with a tense solemnity. Dressed simply, Lin Shiya slung a modest satchel over her shoulder and strode determinedly toward the examination hall.

Yet as she neared the venue, a faint unease prickled her senses. Suspicious figures loitered around the gates, their eyes darting as they peered inside, as if searching for someone.

A premonition of danger tightened in her chest.

She watched them from the corner of her eye, trying to glean their intent from their movements.

The examination hall doors swung open, and the candidates filed in. Lin Shiya drew a deep breath, suppressing her anxiety, and stepped inside.

The hall was solemn, the atmosphere taut with anticipation as the examinees prepared for the test. Lin Shiya found her seat, set down her bag, and laid out her paper and brushes.

But she could not quiet her mind; those shadowy figures lingered in her thoughts.

Just then, a low voice whispered in her ear, “Young Master Lin, it’s been a long time…”