Zhao Xunan spun around, his face a mask of shock as Zhao Ping'er blinked up at him, her spirit sea churning like a tempest. This isn't just a hint of qi Sensation—her true qi is spilling out!
She'd only meditated for a few breaths and already entered the immortal path? This speed was absurd. He reached out to grip her wrist, checking her pulse. His eyes narrowed. True qi—so abundant, far more than mine was at first.
"You've definitely sensed qi," he said, voice steady despite the storm in his mind. "But you need to push further. Breaking through to the first realm marks true entry into the immortal path."
Zhao Ping'er nodded, plopping back down to meditate. But her eyes fluttered shut only to snap open again. "Master, how long did it take you?"
"…Just one breath," Zhao Xunan said, forcing nonchalance. His mind reeled. I've made a fool of myself.
The girl beamed, already convinced. "No wonder Master's so talented—you're faster than anyone!"
She closed her eyes again, diving into cultivation. Zhao Xunan stepped out of the room, staring at the sky with a heavy sigh. In my past life, I thought her low realm was due to poor spiritual roots… But it was the wrong cultivation method all along.
Three to four breaths to sense qi—this girl's talent must be top-tier in the world.
"Master, what's in the sky?" Zhao Ping'er craned her neck, curiosity overriding her focus.
Startled, Zhao Xunan frowned. "Cultivation demands focus. Return to your practice. We'll discuss other things once you reach the first realm."
"I have reached it," Zhao Ping'er said, grinning.
Zhao Xunan's face twitched. What?!
"What do you visualize when meditating?" he asked, forcing calm.
"Uh… endless white?" she said, tilting her head. "Like a river without end, rushing and roaring. Scary!"
Zhao Xunan's jaw tightened. He took a deep breath, steadying his voice. "Ping'er, remember this: no matter who asks, never reveal the true form of your vision. Say only that it's a mountain with a great river flowing through it."
"Why, Master?"
"Just… trust me."
Zhao Ping'er nodded, her trust in him absolute. After all, who else could she rely on?
By noon, Zhao Ping'er had advanced to the second realm of Qi Refinement. By dusk, she stalled, and Zhao Xunan let out a relieved sigh. Good—she's hitting her limit. If she kept breaking through, it'd be unnatural.
A bad omen flickered in his mind, but he pushed it aside. For now, her progress was a blessing.
Time flew. By the 9th of August, the Autumn Examinations began.
The Examination Hall, guarded by elite soldiers from the Right Martial Guard, had been sealed for three days. Thousands of armored soldiers, spears and swords glinting, combed through nearly ten thousand cubicles, leaving no corner unchecked—even rats were hunted down.
Above, stars still hung bright. Ten thousand scholars from across Sichuan and Liang provinces gathered outside, alongside family and friends, a sea of humanity. Yet order reigned. Soldiers patrolled on horseback, cracking whips at any commotion. Scholars, meek as lambs, dared not cause trouble.
"Keng keng keng—"
The night watchman's gong echoed. At dawn, the gatekeeper barked: "Enter in order. Pushers will be removed!"
The massive doors rumbled open. Scholars clutched bamboo baskets, hearts pounding, as soldiers searched them roughly—tearing open food, rummaging through belongings. Zhao Xunan's stomach churned. No meals for three days, then.
Inside, the hall was a labyrinth of low, cramped cubicles resembling miniature temple buildings. Zhao Xunan found his—number 587, beside a stinking latrine. He swept dust from the rickety desk, glaring at the hole in the roof. If it rains, we're done. Three years of waiting again.
Ink, brush, paper, and inkstone laid out, a foul breeze swept in—straight from the latrine. Zhao Xunan gagged. What luck! He plugged his nose with a sleeve, sat cross-legged, and waited.
At 7 AM, the cloud board clanged. Papers were handed out—thick stacks of questions on the Four Books, Five Classics, and eight-legged essays.
The first question: "At fifteen, I set my heart on learning." Zhao Xunan smiled. Same as my past life—easy.
Dipping his brush in ink, he wrote smoothly: "The sage sets his heart on learning at fifteen…"
His calligraphy—delicate, precise—left onlookers awestruck. By the end of the first day, he'd finished all essays. Drying them with oil paper, he tucked them under his desk, then sat meditating, ignoring the curious glances of soldiers and examiners.
"Has he given up?" one officer muttered.
"No—he's just too fast," another said. "Look at that handwriting—flawless. This kid's going to top the province."
Over the next three days, Zhao Xunan's cubicle became a magnet. Officers crowded around, cooing over his work. "Minister Qian's calligraphy is superb, but this… this is on another level!"
By the third day, even the strictest examiners were impressed. "A prodigy," they agreed. "If he aced the policy essays, he'll be the top scholar this year."
On the 11th, at dusk, the cloud board clanged again. Exams ended. Outside, families clamored, tears and cheers mixing.
"Waa, Father, I failed—the essays were too obscure!"
"Wife, the questions matched perfectly. We're set!"
Zhao Xunan, stomach growling, headed to the food stall where Zhao Ping'er waited. "How'd it go, Master?" she asked, tugging his sleeve.
He grinned. "My cubicle? A palace compared to the latrine. Officers paraded through—said it was 'a city gate.'"
She gaped, then beamed. "Thank the heavens, Master Zhao's family ancestors are smiling!"
Zhao Xunan rolled his eyes. This kid's too earnest.
That night, he bathed, prepared for Day 2, and rose at 3 AM. The next morning, the hall buzzed again. His new cubicle—number 123—was a palace: clean, well-lit, with a fresh desk and a water jug. Luxury!
Day 2's exams covered official documents, history, and arithmetic. Zhao Xunan sailed through, finishing in three hours. Then came the policy essay—"Ancients, Later Generations, Heaven and Earth."
Tricky, but no problem. Five thousand years of history—what's there to fear?
He dipped his brush, pressing the paper with a stone. But as he raised his hand, three examiners materialized, staring.
"Is something wrong, gentlemen?" he asked, frowning.
One officer checked his paper. "You… finished all sections?"
Zhao Xunan nodded.
The officer's eyes widened. "By heaven—he's done!"