The day of the final examination at the Academic Palace finally arrived.
Li Ang sat in the tavern’s loft, watching the students heading in a continuous stream towards the Vermilion Bird Gate, his heart filled with a myriad of emotions.
On the table before him lay a roster listing the general information of key candidates participating in this final exam.
As in previous years, there were over two thousand candidates for the final exam, but only seven hundred would be selected.
"If the final exam questions are biased towards testing Spiritual Power, that would be fine," Li Leqing said, leaning by the window. She had waved goodbye to Chai Chai, and only after the Vermilion Bird Gate closed did she turn back, looking somewhat anxious as she spoke to Li Ang. "But if it tests literary style or knowledge of the classics..."
"It probably won’t be," Li Ang comforted her. "Every year, the final exam questions are set by the Mountain Master and the Doctors. They are random and strictly confidential, but it’s also possible to deduce them through other means. The Mountain Master has been away from Chang’an for so long now that the authority to select exam questions rests with the Doctors. If this year’s exam were on the classics, then Dr. Wang Wenlun, who would be setting the questions, should have disappeared for a while to avoid any suspicion of bias. Since they haven’t disappeared, the final exam questions are most likely not about the classics."
Li Ang silently added in his mind, Of course, it’s also possible that a batch of final exam questions was prepared long ago, and the Mountain Master or the Master simply picks one at random.
Inside the examination hall, Chai Chai squinted, repeatedly inspecting the examination paper on his desk.
There were three sheets of standard-sized, pristine white paper. They were completely blank except for the center, which was stamped with the four characters for ’Place of Origin’ and ’Name’.
"These are your final exam questions," a tall, thin Academic Palace Instructor announced loudly from the dais. "There are no additional questions on the examination paper. You only need to use the provided Wolf Brush to fill in your information in the ’Place of Origin’ and ’Name’ sections on any one of the sheets. That will count as a pass, and you may then leave the examination hall."
All the candidates looked up simultaneously, utterly astonished.
Just fill in information to pass the final exam?
What kind of joke was this? They weren’t the Emperor’s most beloved princes or princesses, who could simply write an essay titled ’My Father, Emperor Yu’ and be admitted to the Academic Palace without an exam. There must be some catch. Follow current novels on novel·fiɾe·net
"You heard correctly; this is the only content of the examination," another short, plump invigilator added. "There are three examination papers. You only need to write clearly on one of them to pass. Furthermore, the clearer and neater your handwriting, the higher your score will be."
"Invigilator," a student raised his hand, "if I fill in my place of origin and name on all three examination papers, will my chances of being admitted to the Academic Palace be higher?"
"Hehe, yes." The tall, thin invigilator smiled. "However, there is one thing to note. If a paper is damaged or smudged by excess ink, making the name illegible, that paper will be voided. Three examination papers mean three chances..."
A strange smile touched the tall invigilator’s lips as he slowly retrieved an open wooden box from under the table.
The wooden box was rectangular, its interior neatly divided into slots holding fifty writing brushes. The short, plump invigilator carried the box down from the dais. Using metal tongs adorned with a talisman, he carefully picked up the brushes one by one and placed them on each candidate’s desk.
The shaft of the Wolf Brush was made of smooth, round green bamboo. The brush tip was glossy and thoroughly saturated with ink.
The plump invigilator’s movements were slow and steady. Only after all the brushes had been distributed did he return to the dais, heaving a long sigh and wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, as if he had just completed some strenuous physical labor.
"The exam officially begins." The tall invigilator nodded. "Unlike previous years," he announced to everyone, "this year’s final examination prohibits candidates from communicating privately or assisting others in any way. Furthermore, if any candidate experiences physical discomfort, faints, or loses consciousness during the exam, the Academic Palace will forcibly intervene and escort the candidate out. If a candidate’s symptoms are severe and they are deemed unfit to continue, or if they remain unconscious beyond the allotted examination time, their eligibility will be automatically revoked. We hope all candidates will act within their capabilities. The Academic Palace is merely a place for learning; you only have one life."
The tall invigilator spoke with earnest sincerity, yet many students below revealed bitter smiles.
For those already studying within its walls, the Academic Palace was indeed just a place of learning.
But for these candidates, it represented rising above the common herd, the leap of a carp over the Dragon Gate; it signified the fortune of their entire clan, a chance to bring glory to their families.
The expectations of their kin, the future of their clan, their entire life’s destiny—everything hinged on this single examination.
How could the sheer weight of it all be dismissed by a few simple words from an invigilator?
As if realizing he had said something pointless, the tall invigilator sighed lightly, waved his hand, and announced the commencement of the final examination.
Chai Chai remained seated, glancing around with the corners of his eyes. He noticed that all the candidates in the examination hall were still sitting motionless; no one had touched their brush.
The invigilators’ words clearly hinted that there was a problem with the examination papers, and each person only had three chances.
After a long pause, a candidate finally took a deep breath. With a trembling hand, he reached out, picked up the brush from his desk, and adopted a writing posture.
His eyes bulged, his arm shook, his teeth chattered, and his face turned deathly pale, as if he had witnessed something utterly terrifying and incomprehensible.
The ink pooled at the brush tip dripped onto the examination paper, forming a round black mark near the edge.
The ink dripped faster and faster, seemingly without end. After struggling for more than ten breaths, the candidate could no longer hold on. He dropped the brush and slumped backward over his chair, his entire body drenched in sweat, as if he had just been dragged out of a pond.