The spring of the fifth year of Jianning was exceptionally lively in the capital.
In truth, this liveliness had begun the previous winter.
Scholars participating in the imperial examinations streamed into the capital one after another. While some focused solely on their studies, many more were drawn by the capital's bustling atmosphere, gathering with friends to compose poetry, admire scenery, and indulge in drinking games.
Moreover, women also took part in the imperial examinations. Beyond men engaging in literary exchanges, there were now numerous competitions involving women as well.
Perhaps due to the Great Xia's years of continuous warfare, the temperament of scholars had shifted. Gentlemen no longer merely debated with words but also with fists. Refined literary gatherings would often devolve into shouting matches, which then escalated into brawls, with scholars tearing at each other and rolling on the ground, all sense of decorum lost.
Even more absurdly, it wasn't just the men.
Several literary gatherings involving women also descended into chaos, though with one distinction: the actual fighting was done by the maids and servants the women brought along, while the women themselves shouted commands from the sidelines.
Capital officials rushed about day and night, dealing with fights and disturbances everywhere.
They couldn't arrest anyone, couldn't use force, and couldn't even win arguments against these scholars—often ending up being lectured by the entire group.
The officials of the Capital Prefecture were at their wits' end.
Yet, no noble or powerful families came to complain—after all, those who could afford education, especially for women participating in literary gatherings, were either wealthy or influential.
In the emperor's domain, the powerful were everywhere. Colleagues could bump into ten of them just crossing a street. The capital's youth were the hardest to control; if one got into trouble, their entire family would stir up a commotion.
But this time, the Capital Prefecture officials were frustrated precisely because these families weren't causing trouble. They even went to their homes to demand, "How can you allow your sons and daughters to brawl like this? Don't you elders exercise any discipline?"
Parents of the involved young men dismissed it casually, saying, "Can a fight over scholarship truly be called a fight? It's the path of learning."
As for the parents of the young women, they were equally unconcerned, retorting, "Who says women can't debate? They're pursuing knowledge too. If men can do it, so can women. Back when the Empress—"
At the mention of "back when the Empress," the officials would immediately stop questioning and turn away.
Nothing more needed to be said. Like Empress, like subjects' daughters.
Amid this commotion, the New Year passed. As more scholars flooded in, a new rumor suddenly emerged—not causing any uproar but spreading quietly, like an undercurrent.
"The top candidate from Dengzhou."
"Absolutely certain, that's the name."
"There are plenty with the same name."
"They say his appearance is strikingly similar."
"Apparently, the Dengzhou magistrate went to see him secretly, took one look, and was so startled he twisted his ankle."
"Really? Or is that just talk?"
"I don't know either. I've never seen him."
"But once he enters the capital, more people will have seen him."
Amid these strange whispers, one day, the streetside taverns and teahouses suddenly filled with crowds. They ordered fine wine and dishes but spent their time craning their necks to look outside.
"What's going on?" the tavern keeper asked curiously, peering out as well. "Has some important person arrived?"
A customer whispered to him, "The top candidate from Dengzhou."
The keeper chuckled. Yes, a provincial top candidate was impressive, but the capital was already full of them. What was so special about this one?
Exceptionally talented? Weren't all top candidates worthy of that description?Could it be stunningly beautiful? Or hideously ugly? Both would be quite eye-catching, but for scholars, these are merely superficial matters of the flesh, hardly worth such shallow curiosity.
Yet the man offered no details, saying meaningfully, "Just wait and see. You're from the capital—you'll know as soon as you lay eyes on him."
Mysterious and peculiar. The innkeeper felt a twinge of disdain. As a capital resident, he'd witnessed all sorts of strange occurrences over the years.
Just then, someone rushed in, whispering excitedly, "He's here, he's here!"
At these words, everyone in the room grew tense and eager, craning their necks to look outside.
The innkeeper idly fiddled with his abacus, lifting his eyelids to glance at the street. He saw seven or eight men approaching, all dressed as scholars, travel-worn, leading horses laden with bookcases and luggage—no different from any other candidates arriving for the imperial examinations.
If this truly was the top candidate from Dengzhou, his entourage was far less impressive than others who'd held that rank.
While it was true that impoverished scholars could suddenly rise to the top, they would inevitably gain the favor of officials and local gentry, receiving silver, servants, and every support to ensure their glorious future.
When previous top candidates from other prefectures arrived in the capital, they came in perfumed carriages or fine steeds, surrounded either by retinues of servants or crowds of fellow scholars.
This group, however, appeared no different from ordinary examination candidates. Could there really be a top-ranked scholar among them?
The innkeeper lowered his gaze. He'd rather spend more time reviewing his account books.
"That's the one—"
"It's him—"
"Look quickly—"
"Which one?"
"The one at the very back."
As the group drew nearer, the hall grew noisier. The innkeeper looked up again. Was the last man really the top candidate?
This top candidate didn't seem very popular.
Though traveling as part of a group, the man at the rear maintained clear distance from the others. While the rest pointed and chatted about the capital's sights, no one spoke to him—a deliberate isolation.
When the man passed by, the innkeeper's eyes fell on his face. His hand, still holding the abacus, froze.
This face—
This face was not stunningly beautiful.
Nor was it hideously ugly.
This face appeared utterly ordinary.
This face held not a trace of smile.
This face, slightly dark-skinned, with thin eyes and thin lips.
Those thin eyes suddenly turned toward him.
The innkeeper's hand trembled, the abacus clattering to the floor.
"Gra—Gra—Grand Tutor—" he stammered.
Simultaneously, the guests leaning out to look seemed to freeze in place.
Until the man had passed.
Then erupted a wave of commotion.
"Is it really him?"
"It's definitely him—"
"I almost cried out earlier."
"Not just you—I heard many others gasp too."
And it wasn't just this establishment—the entire street reacted similarly. The undercurrents that had been hidden beneath the surface finally erupted, creating whirlpools of discussion.
......
......
"Is it really Deng Yi, or just someone who looks like him?"
"He's called Deng Yi, and looks exactly the same—can you still call it mere resemblance?"
The Imperial Academy buzzed with debates. Unlike the general public, they had received advance notice. Though many had never seen Grand Tutor Deng Yi in person, some officials from prefectures and commanderies had encountered him.
Their reports, however, remained vague.
But everyone understood why—after all, the court had officially declared Deng Yi dead.
If this man truly was Deng Yi, he should have changed his name and gone into hiding. Instead, he brazenly came to participate in the imperial examinations, keeping both his name and appearance unchanged.If there were truly a problem, the Garrison Guard would certainly know about it.
Now that the Garrison Guard had been established in prefectures, commanderies, and counties, they could spy on both secluded mansions and rural fields. Not even mole crickets or ants could escape their eyes, let alone a person who looked like Deng Yi and shared his name.
Yet this Deng Yi had not only been able to participate in the imperial examinations but also taken the top spot. Now, he had calmly and confidently entered the capital.
"Sir," a minor official rushed in, interrupting the officials gathered in the hall, sipping tea and chatting merrily. "He's here, that Deng Yi is here."
Hearing this, the officials rose in some disarray, each returning to their own desks and taking their seats.
"Your student, Deng Yi, has come to register," a voice came from outside the door.
One of the officials trembled slightly—the voice was also eerily similar. He cleared his throat lightly and said, "Enter."
Several officials fixed their eyes on the door, watching as the light shifted and a figure stepped inside. Dressed in a blue robe, his face clean and composed, his expression remained as impassive as before, devoid of joy or sorrow.
His gaze swept over the officials before he walked up to one of them and produced a name card.
The official instinctively stood up and reached out with both hands to accept it.
"Sir," he blurted out.
Deng Yi suddenly smiled.
The official snapped back to his senses, his face stiffening.
"It is too early to call me 'Sir' now," Deng Yi said, handing the name card to the man. "Your student has come to register. After I pass the examinations with high honors, I will serve alongside you all in court."
The official said nothing, gripping the name card with both hands as he sat back down. He took a deep breath, picked up his brush, and recorded the name card. Then, he passed it to another official, who verified it, added his endorsement, and handed it to the next. The next official checked it, picked up the Imperial Academy’s seal, and stamped it.
Deng Yi took the returned name card and bowed. "Your student takes his leave."
With that, he turned and walked out.
The room returned to silence, the oppressive atmosphere dissipating. The three officials collectively let out a sigh of relief.
"If he isn’t Deng Yi," one official said, "then I’ve seen a ghost."
Another official felt this was wrong: "If he really is Deng Yi, shouldn’t that be even more like seeing a ghost?"
True enough. The three exchanged glances.
"Perhaps it’s because the capital has endured too many hardships—it feels like we’re always encountering ghosts," one official remarked. "Didn’t the Imperial City guards have rumors that when Empress Chu returned to court, that young master Yan Lai of the Xie family also made an appearance?"
What nonsense is this? The officials’ eyebrows twitched, and they raised their hands to rub their temples.
Never mind, never mind. No more guessing, no more guessing. Their duty was merely to prepare for the court examinations. Matters of men and ghosts had nothing to do with them.
……
……
All the candidates’ name registers were laid out on the Emperor’s desk.
Xiao Yu’s gaze lingered on Deng Yi’s name for a moment.
"Are you afraid, A’Yu?" Chu Zhao asked beside him.
Xiao Yu replied, "Not at all." He reached out and traced the name with his finger, smiling. "If he can pass the exams, I dare to employ him."
The young man’s long eyebrows arched upward, brimming with confidence and vigor.
Chu Zhao also smiled. No wonder Xie Yanlai disliked this kid—they both bore the unmistakable resemblance of the Xie family.
As Xiao Yu’s features matured, he looked even more like Xie Yanlai.
……
……
By the end of April, the trees along the riverbanks were lush and green. The spring flowers were nearing their end, their petals scattering wildly in the wind.
In the rushing river, a hand reached down from an orchid boat, scooping up a few petals from the water.
The water-soaked petals, cradled in a jade-white palm, seemed to regain their vitality, glowing with a vivid, bewitching crimson.
"So, Deng Yi passed the exams?" the young master holding the petals asked, leaning against the boat’s railing.Cai Bo gently paddled from the stern, nodding as he replied, "Indeed, and it ranks within the top ten."
Xie Yanfang turned her head with a smile. "Having slept for over a year, I've missed quite a few new developments."
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