Chapter 77: Hidden Crisis in the Examination Hall, The Heroine's Clever Solution

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Chapter 77: Crisis in the Examination Hall, the Heroine’s Clever Resolution

The biting winter wind carried with it an air of ruthless desolation, like countless sharp knives slashing mercilessly at Lin Shiya’s face. Yet she felt no cold at all; the anxiety and worry in her heart had long since engulfed her. Her steps were swift as the wind, the hem of her robe fluttering fiercely, and she resembled an eagle poised to take flight, urgently heading for the examination hall.

On either side of the street, the winter trees stood bare and silent, like mute spectators watching this sudden storm unfold. The air was thick with unease, the oppressive calm before a tempest, making it hard to breathe. Lin Shiya’s heart pounded rapidly, each beat like a drum urging her onward.

When at last she reached the examination hall, the sight before her eyes sent a surge of fury to her very core. The once orderly hall was now in utter chaos. Desks and chairs were knocked askew, like a wheat field ravaged by a wild gale; scattered brushes, ink, and paper lay about as if wild beasts had devoured them, leaving only broken remnants behind. The faint fragrance of ink mingled with the harsh sound of torn paper, creating a scene of utter desolation.

Several men in scholar’s robes were busily wreaking havoc, their faces twisted with malice, their actions coarse as they turned the hall upside down. They tore apart examination papers, crushing them into handfuls of scraps and tossing them into the air like snowflakes. Others kicked and battered the furniture, their blows echoing thunderously. They danced like a pack of demons, trampling not only the dignity of the imperial examination but also Lin Shiya’s last line of tolerance.

“Stop!” Lin Shiya’s shout rang out like a great bell, instantly silencing the din within the hall. She trembled with rage, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug deep into her palms. Her jaw was set, her gaze as sharp as a drawn sword, stabbing at the vandals before her.

“Well, if it isn’t our newly crowned Lin Zhuangyuan,” a middle-aged man with a fat face and large ears stepped forward from the crowd—it was Qian Juren. His face wore a sinister smile, his tone dripping with mockery and disdain. “What’s this? Has Lin Zhuangyuan come to admire our carefully prepared ‘examination hall’?” He brazenly looked Lin Shiya up and down.

“You… you are truly reckless and lawless!” Lin Shiya’s voice trembled, the result of her outrage. Never before had she encountered such brazenness—these men dared openly sabotage the imperial examination. She fixed her gaze on Qian Juren, as if she might devour him alive.

“Reckless and lawless?” Qian Juren burst out laughing, pride and arrogance filling his voice. “We simply can’t stand certain people’s attempts to reform the examination system and disrupt the order of the dynasty!”

“That’s right! We absolutely will not allow the examination to be tampered with!” The other vandals joined in, their shrill, raucous voices like a flock of ugly crows.

Just then, a hesitant voice rose from the crowd: “Qian Juren, isn’t this going too far?” It was a young scholar, speaking cautiously—this was Young Master Zheng.

Qian Juren glared at him fiercely, barking, “Young Master Zheng, are you looking for trouble? This is not your concern!”

At that, Young Master Zheng’s face went pale, and he dared not utter another word.

Looking at the chaos before her, Lin Shiya’s fury only intensified. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. She could not let these instigators succeed.

She began to call for help—when suddenly, a startled cry interrupted her. “Look!” A constable pointed in alarm. “What’s that?”

Lin Shiya’s gaze sharpened as she followed his finger. Outside the main gate of the examination hall, flames soared skyward and thick smoke billowed.

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Someone had set fire outside the examination hall!

It was a clear attempt to utterly destroy the imperial examinations.

She made a snap decision, her voice cutting through the panic: “Put out the fire! Quickly!” The staff inside, though still shaken by the earlier unrest, sprang into action at her command. Some grabbed buckets, others brooms, all rushing toward the main gate, determined to fight the blaze.

Lin Shiya joined them herself, braving danger to reach the heart of the flames, directing everyone in the battle to extinguish the fire. Bathed in the glow, she appeared larger than life—a guardian spirit protecting this sacred ground.

At the same time, she ordered attendants to seize those who had vandalized the hall. The culprits, previously so arrogant, now quailed in the face of her authority and decisiveness, falling to their knees to beg mercy. Qian Juren too was restrained, his face ashen, his eyes filled with terror and regret, though he still tried to bluster, “Lin Shiya, just wait, I won’t let you get away with this!”

She simply snorted and paid him no heed. Calm and composed, she reassured frightened examinees, organized the staff to restore the hall, and managed every task with flawless efficiency. The staff, watching her tireless efforts, were filled with admiration. Any doubts they’d harbored about her reforms were swept away by her courage and sense of duty.

Qian Juren, seeing the hall swiftly restored and his carefully laid scheme unraveling, was beside himself with anger and shame. Slipping out, he incited a group of scholars outside to stir up trouble, slandering Lin Shiya’s reform as a threat to fairness.

“Lin Shiya, you treacherous villain, you’re destroying the imperial examination!”

“We protest! We demand a fair exam!”

The agitators shouted ever louder, their voices like a cauldron of boiling oil, ready to burst forth at any moment. Tension thickened outside the hall, the air heavy with the scent of gunpowder.

Lin Shiya frowned at the surging crowd outside, an uneasy premonition stirring in her heart.

Suddenly, a commotion arose, and a clear voice rang out: “Zhuangyuan Lin, we’re here—”

Young Master Zheng led a group of young scholars, sweeping through the crowd like a fresh current and standing before Lin Shiya. Their eyes shone with resolve, their faces flushed with righteous passion.

“Zhuangyuan Lin, we’re here!” Young Master Zheng declared, his voice trembling but strong, like a bolt of lightning cleaving the gloom. “We are all true supporters of reform! We witnessed your brilliance at the palace examination and your tireless efforts for the reform of the system. What you pursue is not the slanderous chaos some have claimed, but a future for the nation and for all scholars.”

His words were like swords, piercing through the fabrications of the agitators.

“Qian Juren, you stooped so low as to bribe these scoundrels to slander Zhuangyuan Lin—shameful!” cried another scholar, his voice ringing with justice.

Others joined in, exposing how the troublemakers had been bought by Qian Juren. Truth prevailed, and the rabble fell silent, their faces flushed with shame, masks torn away—they slunk off like dogs driven from a feast.

A cheer broke out among the crowd, people lauding Lin Shiya’s wisdom and daring, and applauding the scholars who stood for reform.

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Standing amidst the crowd, Lin Shiya’s gaze swept over every face. A faint, gratified smile touched her lips. She knew her efforts had not been in vain—she was not alone on this path of reform.

At that moment, a pair of deep, gentle eyes rested on her, so soft they seemed to melt her. Following the gaze, Lin Shiya saw Murong Fu standing not far off—tall and upright. Her heart gave a sudden leap, warmth and sweetness welling within.

Their eyes met, and time seemed to stand still. The world faded away, leaving only the vivid reality of each other’s presence. It was a silent understanding, a meeting of souls—as if two lonely spirits had finally found their home.

No words were needed; everything was understood.

But then, a frantic voice shattered the tenderness. “Zhuangyuan Lin, something’s wrong with the hall—”

Lin Shiya turned to see the examination hall, now restored—desks and chairs neatly arranged, ink and paper back in place, the air once again scented with ink, as if nothing had ever happened. A surge of pride filled her—not just in her own abilities, but in her steadfast belief in reform.

Clearing her throat, she announced in a ringing voice, “Fellow examinees, the imperial examination will proceed as scheduled, and every procedure shall follow the new standards!” At these words, the hall erupted in thunderous cheers. Faces shone with excitement and anticipation; they waved their brushes like banners of hope, eager to demonstrate their talent under the new rules.

They looked at Lin Shiya with admiration and gratitude, knowing that this young zhuangyuan was forging a path toward success with her wisdom and courage.

Standing at the center of the hall, Lin Shiya basked in the enthusiasm of the examinees, her heart full of accomplishment. She knew this was only the beginning—the road to reform would be long and filled with unknown trials. Drawing a deep breath, she seemed to absorb all the joy and strength around her, her eyes sparkling with confidence.

She turned to Murong Fu, who stood in the crowd, gazing at her with gentle encouragement.

Yet even in this hopeful moment, a faint crease formed on Lin Shiya’s brow. Her keen intuition told her that undercurrents were still swirling. Glancing outside, she caught sight of a few familiar faces among those lingering in the crowd, whispering together. She thought of the saboteurs earlier, certain that greater forces lurked behind them.

“It seems this isn’t over,” she thought to herself. She would have to be more cautious than ever to face the challenges ahead.

Having seen to the arrangements, she quickly left the hall.

Night fell, and lanterns glimmered across the city. In a quiet teahouse, several scholars in traditional robes sat together, sipping tea and speaking in hushed tones. They were Qian Juren’s allies, the backbone of opposition to the reforms.

“The exam still went ahead under her standards—infuriating,” one grumbled, slamming the table in frustration.

“That Lin Shiya is too formidable—she restored the hall so quickly, all our plans came to nothing,” another echoed, his face filled with dejection.

“We can’t let this go. We must find a way to stop her reforms,” said a third, his voice oozing malice, eyes alight with scheming.

“Indeed. We’ll have to plot at the next literary gathering—make sure she suffers a major setback,” another agreed.

Outside the teahouse, Lin Shiya listened to their whispered conspiracies, her gaze growing deep and sharp. She knew a new storm was brewing—and she must be ready to meet it.

She let out a soft laugh, murmuring to herself, “A literary gathering? Hmph…”