The chief examiner for the verification was Zhong Ziqi, a Grand Secretary of the Inner Court. He was a small, white-haired old man, usually known for his stern and upright demeanor. He unrolled the scroll in his hand and began announcing today’s examination topics.
As for the "painting" section, the theme varied each year. However, this year, coinciding with the Chrysanthemum Banquet, the topic was much simpler. Just as the "calligraphy" section was themed around chrysanthemums, so was the "painting" section.
On the stage were five long tables, each equipped with brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. As the candidates took their places in order, the drummer struck the drum heavily, signaling the start of the verification.
Everyone craned their necks to watch.
These five candidates were quite distinctive. Shen Yue was the well-known talented maiden, Qin Qing was beautiful and haughty, Fan Liu’er and Zhao Yan were a pair of close sisters, and Shen Miao—naturally—was the infamous incompetent fool.
Most of the male spectators were watching Shen Yue and Qin Qing, while the female spectators were mostly observing Shen Miao.
Bai Wei covered her mouth and remarked, "Shen Miao seems quite proper today. No strange movements—she actually looks the part."
Including this time, Shen Miao had already participated in four verifications. The first time, she drew the "chess" section and lost miserably after a few random moves. The second time, she drew "calligraphy" and overturned the ink tray, staining her clothes. The third time, she drew the "zither" section and broke the strings of a fine bamboo-scented instrument. Rather than watching her perform, the crowd was more interested in seeing her humiliate herself in public.
But today was different.
On the spacious stage, the young girl sat upright at the table. Her brush-holding posture was impeccable, as if she had undergone rigorous training—not a single flaw could be found. In the golden autumn of October, a chilly wind swept through the hall, lifting the stray hairs at her forehead. She lowered her head slightly, revealing only her oval face and the graceful arc of her lowered lashes.
She was actually quite beautiful.
Her lotus-green cloak fluttered dramatically. Though she sat with perfect posture, her brushstrokes were bold and unrestrained, as if she didn’t care at all. Yet, her confident demeanor was like the begonia hidden in her dark hair—blooming vibrantly in a subdued yet undeniable way.
Madam Yi pursed her lips and said cryptically to Ren Wanyun, "Fifth Miss has truly grown up."
Ren Wanyun forced a smile, her hands tightening subtly.
Behind them, the whispers of young girls could be heard.
"Shen Miao hasn’t made a fool of herself yet. Has she really changed?"
"Impossible. She’s probably just putting on an act. Didn’t you notice she didn’t even hesitate before painting? Even Shen Yue took time to think. The most likely explanation is that she’s just scribbling randomly."
Feng Anning watched Shen Miao on stage, that strange feeling returning. She suddenly had an intuition—today’s Chrysanthemum Banquet might not go as expected. Would Shen Miao really embarrass herself?
Or would she, with an unstoppable force, shatter everyone’s misconceptions about her?
Among the male spectators, some were also beginning to notice the difference.
This group was perhaps the most visually pleasing in the entire female division. Shen Yue, in soft pink, was elegant and graceful. Qin Qing, in green with wide sleeves, was haughty and stunning. Fan Liu’er was charmingly lively, while Zhao Yan was mischievously clever. The one who stood out the least was the foolish, timid, and vulgar Shen Miao.At a glance, among the five, Shen Miao not only held her own but stood out remarkably.
She sat there quietly, head slightly bowed, yet exuding an air of superiority as if overlooking all beneath her. It was as though... as though that delicate figure was perched upon a high seat of decisive authority, compelling an involuntary sense of submission.
Pei Lang frowned. How could a person's demeanor undergo such a drastic transformation? Was this truly Shen Miao?
Fu Xiuyi couldn't conceal his astonishment. It wasn't that he noticed the stark contrast between Shen Miao now and before, but rather her posture—the straightness of her back, the grace in her movements—reminded him of someone.
The mistress of the six palaces, the Empress.
Fu Xiuyi knew this thought was absurd. The entire Fixed Capital knew of Shen Miao's infatuation with him, and he despised being admired by such a woman. Most of what he knew about her came from hearsay—rumors that she was unlearned, vulgar, crude in manner, foolish, and cowardly. Now, he couldn't help but think that perhaps those rumors weren't entirely true.
"How strange," murmured the blue-robed youth who had earlier been scolded by Cai Lin. "Wasn't it said that Shen Miao of Class Two was an incompetent? She doesn't seem like one."
Cai Lin was also taken aback. His gaze had been fixed on Shen Yue, yet Shen Miao seemed to possess an inexplicable magnetism that drew attention. As if she was born to stand where all eyes could see her, today more than ever. Suppressing his odd thoughts, he scoffed, "Just putting on airs."
"Elder brother, will she win?" Su Minlang tugged at the sleeve of the person beside him.
Su Mingfeng's eyes held a smile, but his expression was peculiar.
"Shen Miao?"
The time of one incense stick passed, and the drummer struck the drum again, signaling the end.
Shen Yue set down her brush, confident in today's painting. To her left was Qin Qing, who had also finished and was washing her brush. Even such a simple action, performed by her, seemed like a moving painting.
But no matter how moving, the Verification ground was never a place where beauty alone could prevail.
She turned to look at Shen Miao, thinking that despite Shen Miao's usual failures, today she hadn't made any mistakes—perhaps someone had indeed advised her well. Yet while one could feign composure, talent couldn't be faked. Surely, Shen Miao must be flustered and unfinished by now.
But before her, Shen Miao had already set down her brush, calmly watching as the collectors approached.
Shen Yue's smile stiffened.
"Alright, step down." Once all the paintings were collected, the Verification for the Class Two ladies would begin, which would take some time.
"Fifth sister, what exactly did you paint?" Shen Yue couldn't resist probing as soon as they left the stage.
For some reason, Shen Miao made her uneasy.
"You'll find out soon," Shen Miao replied with a faint smile, one that seemed to carry a deeper meaning.
She turned and walked to a place out of sight before whispering to Gu Yu beside her, "Find a way to deliver this to the second son of the Capital Archives Office. Look, the person in lake-green robes, third from the left on the opposite seats."
Gu Yu hesitated, momentarily confused, then nodded. "Understood, miss.""Go on." Shen Miao patted her shoulder and walked back to her original seat, gazing at Pei Lang from afar.
Pei Lang looked up and met a pair of eyes—even from a distance, he could see the scrutiny within them.
Forgive me, Pei Lang. Shen Miao thought to herself. I’ll just borrow your hand to shake the unshakable foundation of the Ming Qi imperial family.
After all, you owe me.
...
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