Chapter 112

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The toad had already caught Lu Liangsheng’s attention when it darted into Wang Shuhua’s study to fetch brush and ink.

“What’s Master doing with those? Don’t tell me he’s just bored and planning to draw maps for fun?”

Lu Liangsheng closed the book in his hands, stood within the dappled sunlight, and stretched once more. The side courtyard was quiet, save for the rustling of an old parasol tree, its leaves swaying gently.

His esteemed teacher, Wang Shuhua, had left the day before to visit a friend and had yet to return. At this hour, Lu Liangsheng was the only one in this secluded courtyard. Looking up at the towering tree that spread like a canopy, the morning sun streamed through the leaves, swaying softly in the breeze, casting flickering patterns of light.

The dappled light danced across his face, and he could feel the warmth of spring.

After a while, he brought over the morning meal and a half bowl of thin porridge. As he pushed open the room’s door, he saw the Toad Daoist clinging to the edge of the window-side desk with both webbed hands, legs flailing in the air as it tried to climb up. Only when the meal was set down did the young scholar give it a slight push from behind, and the toad barely managed to scramble up.

“What’s Master fussing about so early in the morning?” Lu Liangsheng asked with a smile, handing over a piece of pastry.

The toad sat down, breathing heavily, leaning against the side of the bowl. Holding a red bean pastry in both arms, it took a small bite, chewing slowly and calmly as it glanced nonchalantly at its disciple.

“Mm… this master enjoys climbing mountains. Helps me get into the right state of mind.”

…Huh.

I clearly saw you scurrying along the walls.

Lu Liangsheng’s mouth twitched, forcing a smile. “Master’s in high spirits,” he said. Just then, from the hanging scroll on the wall beside the bed, Nie Honglian’s head floated out lightly. Her figure wavered faintly, still unstable—ever since she had taken a blow of sword qi from Zhu Ziyi outside Liyang City the other day, she had lost quite a bit of her Yin energy.

Yet the dimples in her cheeks remained, and she smiled faintly.

“Toad Master took Wang Shuhua’s brush and ink.”

The toad glared at her and turned the other way with his red bean pastry.

“‘Took’ you say? This old one calls it… borrowing. The master of the house simply wasn’t home.”

As the banter continued in the room, Lu Liangsheng looked helplessly at his master and Honglian exchanging words. Suddenly, his brow lifted and he turned toward the door.

“Someone’s coming.”

As expected, the sound of two sets of footsteps came from the crescent moon gate. Min Changwen, having just returned from morning court, entered together with his mentor. The two were speaking in low voices. When the elder caught sight of the scholar standing beneath the eaves, he smiled and said:

“Haha, your teacher was just speaking of you with the Minister. What good timing—come, sit with us.”

A serving Minister of the current dynasty was no small official, a towering presence even to someone like Lu Liangsheng who already held a degree and rank. However, the two had become acquainted back during their time in Fushui County, and now that the other had resumed his post, he did not carry much of an air.

The three of them sat beneath the parasol tree. As usual, it was Sir Wang Shuhua and Minister Min who spoke the most, while Lu Liangsheng listened quietly at the side. Most of their talk revolved around matters of the court, though they did mention the State-Protector Venerable Master at one point, which drew Lu Liangsheng’s deliberate attention.

“Regarding the matter in Heliang Prefecture—His Majesty believed that demonic monk’s slanderous words. It was several months before any grain was sent—there was nearly a revolt among the people!”

“Mm… that demonic monk deceived His Majesty, claiming the drought would soon end, and yet it dragged on for a whole year. So many refugees cried out in hunger. When the rain finally fell, all the merit and credit ended up going to that monk.”

“A scourge upon the nation and the people—he deserves death!!”

“However, there are rumors over there that the great downpour was brought about by a white-robed cultivator who forcibly used a divine art to make it rain, and was even struck by lightning as a result.”

“Yes… quite a few cultivators traveled to that region, but no one knows who it was.” Min Changwen raised his hand and patted the parasol tree twice, then turned to glance at the silent scholar beside him.

“Liangsheng, you are also one who walks the path of cultivation. You happened to be in Heliang Prefecture during that time—do you know who it was?”

The drought in Heliang Prefecture was something Minister Min had intended to use to criticize the State-Protector Venerable Master and rouse the emperor to attend to proper governance. Unfortunately, it had little effect. His close friend and advisor Wang Shuhua had also traveled far and wide to gather and deliver grain to the region. Later, upon learning the whole affair, they discovered that it had been a Daoist of great attainment who had defied the wrath of Heaven to bring down the rain. Min Changwen was left with a complex and indescribable feeling.

Regrettably, after that person endured the thunder tribulation, their fate remained unknown. Even the prefect of Liyang City, who treated their injuries, revealed nothing… there was nothing to do but wait until he returned to the capital for their official report and then seek an opportunity to inquire further.

As for the scholar who had been asked, the words of his teacher and Minister Min stirred memories of the events in Heliang Prefecture. When he heard the question directed at him, he calmed his thoughts.

…Should he speak? Or remain silent?

But if he were to speak—surviving a thunder tribulation unscathed—would that not be too shocking?

After a moment’s thought, Lu Liangsheng replied respectfully:

“This one does not know.”

“There are countless who walk the path of cultivation—it is only natural that Liangsheng would not know.” Said Mr. Wang Shuhua, glancing at his expression, then guiding the conversation back to matters of state and the livelihood of the people.

From time to time, they would mention the upcoming Spring Imperial Examination in a few days. Both the elder and Min Changwen offered him words of encouragement.

The sunlight was gentle and warming.

The two officials still had affairs of court to attend to. After seeing them off, Lu Liangsheng returned to the courtyard, set up his painting frame, and gazed at the old parasol tree before him. As he laid down strokes of dark ink, from within the window lattice behind him, the Toad Daoist rummaged through the brushes and inkstones he had brought, spread out a piece of paper, and got to work.

As memories of towering mountains and flowing rivers seen from above surfaced in his mind, the strokes slowly fell, outlining that vast stretch of land.

Before long, the Toad Daoist straightened up. One webbed hand gripped the brush, the other perched on his waist. He stared at the inky mess on the paper, closed his toad eyes, and tossed the brush aside in defeat, slumping onto the edge of the table.

“Damn it all… what kind of dogshit painting is this?”

Outside the window, the casual strokes Lu Liangsheng had laid down were now fully formed—the old parasol tree stood proud, its branches lush and leaves flourishing, the scroll alive with vitality.

In the gentle breeze, the parasol tree swayed, its branches and leaves dancing gracefully, imbued with a newfound spirit.

“Perhaps, I can go before the Golden Luan Hall and speak to His Majesty about the suffering in Heliang Prefecture… Let us hope it may have some effect.”

So thought Lu Liangsheng.

Boom—

Spring thunder rumbled faintly across the distant sky. As the dark clouds drifted in, a soft, persistent rain fell over the city.

The second day of the second lunar month, when the dragon raises its head.

The Spring Examinations hosted by the Ministry of Rites had arrived. Lu Liangsheng adjusted his robe, bringing only brushes, ink, and his proof of eligibility. After a simple wash, he exchanged greetings with the Toad Daoist and Hong Lian, then took up an oiled paper umbrella and stepped out through the side courtyard. He refused the servants of the Min residence who offered to escort him, opened the umbrella, and stepped onto the street alone.

Pa, pa—

Raindrops splashed atop the flower-printed oil-paper umbrella. Dressed in long, flowing blue robes, Lu Liangsheng walked through the rain-slicked streets. Not a single drop touched his shoes or soaked his socks. Truth be told, he had no need for an umbrella at all—but walking unshielded would only draw too much attention.

At this time, the long street was livelier than usual. All along the road, one could see examinees rushing to the capital to take the imperial examination, escorted by their families and servants to the Imperial Examination Hall. When Lu Liangsheng arrived, the outside was already crowded with onlookers—common folk not often seen around these parts.

“I wonder who’ll claim the titles of Zhuangyuan, Bangyan, and Tanhua this time.” [TL_Note: First, Second and Third places]

“His Majesty personally composed the examination questions this year. Our Emperor is well-versed in the Dao of literature—this year’s exam may prove difficult.”

“…But who can say for sure? There’s always one or two candidates who manage to succeed.”

“True, true, that’s true.”

Buzzing voices murmured in every direction. Holding his oiled paper umbrella, Lu Liangsheng wove through the crowd, smiling as he went. He spoke politely to the onlookers around him: “Pardon me, may I pass through?”

Seeing his scholarly appearance, the bystanders assumed he was one of the examinees and promptly called out to those behind them: “Stop pushing! There’s a scholar up front—you want to get trampled?”

“Let the young lord through, make way…”

“Aiyo, someone stepped on my foot!”

“Oh my… this examinee looks so young, likely not even past his second decade—could he just be here to watch the spectacle?”

…..

Passing through the curtain of water cascading from the eaves, Lu Liangsheng folded his umbrella, shook the droplets from his shoulders, and took out his exam pass and identification. Handing them to the gate official, he waited for verification before being allowed entry.

Much like the provincial exam, the examination chambers were mostly small, walled cubicles. Upon entry, Lu Liangsheng was handed a wax candle. Immediately after, the proctor sealed the door from the outside—first, to prevent outside disturbance; second, to ensure that no answers could be secretly passed in.

With a wave of his sleeve, Lu Liangsheng dusted off the seat. Nearby, the chamber pot was swept into a distant corner. Before long, the exam paper was passed inside.

The topic for the first round: “If the ruler is sagely, then his ministers may be virtuous.”

Upon seeing the subject, Lu Liangsheng closed his eyes briefly and slowly ground the ink.

“If the ruler were truly sagely, then the tragedy in Heliang Prefecture might never have occurred.”

Only after a long while did a thread of thought begin to form in his mind. He stood the candle upright at the corner of the table. With a light touch of his fingertip, a bean-sized flame sparked to life—illuminating the dim little cubicle.

The brush tip dipped in ink, scraped lightly along the edge of the inkstone, and then touched down upon the exam paper.

“In the remote and impoverished villages of the wilderness, even the common folk know that a sagely ruler and virtuous ministers herald the signs of a prosperous age. Yet the nation is like a vast, ancient tree…”

When Lu Liangsheng reached the character for “people” (民), the brush came to a halt. His gaze lingered on that single word, momentarily lost in thought, as though the withered, brown land and mound-like hills once more appeared before his eyes.

Displaced refugees in ragged clothing shuffled forward in a slow tide; helpless old folks sat on lone stones by the roadside, waiting quietly for death; orphans, having lost their parents, stood crying out in panic among the crowd; husbands, carrying their wives and children on their backs, urged them forward with growing desperation as the women stifled quiet sobs behind them.

“The people…”

Lu Liangsheng murmured softly. The suspended brush tip continued forward.

“…The people are the root and stem. Though roots may be frail, they grip the earth with steadfast tenacity. Only when the roots are firm may the tree grow tall. So too must a ruler be generous in virtue, for only then can a nation find peace.”

Unknowingly, the day faded to dusk. The candle flame flickered gently in the examination cubicle, casting warm light over the pages, now filled with flowing lines of eloquent prose.

“…If the ruler is sagely, he shall wield the divine mandate over vast lands, treating the people with virtue and law. His ministers, then, must shun luxury for frugality, serve with utmost sincerity, and lead by example. Only thus may the ruler be sagely and the ministers virtuous…”

The Spring Examination—three rounds, each lasting three days.

Lu Liangsheng poured forth all that he had cultivated and pondered over the past four years, writing with sincerity and insight. His words carried the tone of earnest admonishment, for he was fully aware that in the palace still lurked a great demon like Pudu Cihang.

To confront such an entity alone was near impossible. But if the Emperor was enlightened and just, he could be the one to drive the evil away.

When the exams were over, Lu Liangsheng walked out from the Imperial Examination Hall. Compared to the other examinees, he remained spirited and at ease. The only thing that left him dissatisfied—

“The food in the Imperial Examination Hall… tsk tsk. I’ll go have a proper meal.”

Stuffing his brushes and ink into his bundle, he strolled toward a quieter corner. Casting an illusory concealment spell, he slipped away swiftly and unseen.

That night, the imperial palace blazed with light. Along the rows of towering lantern columns, the Dragon Table bore stacks upon stacks of exam scrolls from the spring round.

Behind the Dragon Table, Chen Shubao had already reviewed a portion, casually tossing some into the discard basket beside him.

Hm?

Drawing out a sealed scroll, his eyes narrowed at the name written atop it.

“Lu Liangsheng…”

His gaze shifted to the corner of the table where a jade pendant—the Twin Fish Inlaid Pearl Pendant—glistened beneath the lantern light.

Without even reading the contents, Chen Shubao picked up the imperial brush and drew a circle on the front page. Then, he tossed it into another basket off to the side.

“I’d like to see for myself just what kind of person this is—so highly praised by the Noble Consort and the Crown Prince.”

In his soft murmur, there was a hint of jealousy.