The moment came too quickly.
Servants called names. Guards urged departure.
Lian Hua suddenly rushed forward and hugged Yue Ning tightly.
"Don't forget us."
Yue Ning hugged back.
"I won't."
Zhao Rong hesitated, then bowed awkwardly.
"Take care of the province for us."
Fang Mei stepped forward next, composed but sincere.
"Wait for us. When we return, we'll be different people."
Fang Jian followed, meeting Yue Ning's eyes seriously.
"Don't let anyone trouble you."
Li Wen bowed deeply.
"Thank you… for everything."
Yue Ning looked at each of them.
"Walk steadily," she said softly.
"The capital tests hearts before talent."
Wheels turned. Hooves moved.
One by one, the carriages rolled forward through the gate.
Lian Hua leaned out the window, shouting,
"Ning'er! If you forget us, I'll come back and haunt you!"
Yue Ning laughed and waved.
Zhao Rong raised his fist.
"We'll make names for ourselves!"
Fang Mei smiled gently, Fang Jian steady beside her.
Li Wen looked back the longest.
Then the dust rose—and they were gone.
After
The gate slowly closed.
The street quieted.
Yue Ning stood alone for a long moment.
A maid approached hesitantly.
"Miss… shall we return home?"
Yue Ning nodded.
"Yes."
As she walked back through the familiar streets of the province, everything felt unchanged—yet subtly different.
They've stepped into the center of Heaven's gaze, she thought.
And I remain at the edge.
High above, unseen, the Heavenly Dao stirred faintly.
Five threads… moving inward.
One remains behind.
It watched Yue Ning carefully.
Why does the still one feel heavier than the moving ones?
Yue Ning paused briefly, looking toward the capital's distant direction.
Her expression was calm.
"Grow well," she murmured.
"I'll be here when you return."
The wind carried her words forward—far beyond the provincial gate.
The Imperial College courtyard had never felt so heavy.
Spring sunlight fell gently upon the stone tiles, yet no warmth reached the hearts of the scholars gathered there. All eyes were fixed on the Golden List, newly unfurled and still smelling faintly of ink.
At the very top, two names gleamed like fate itself had carved them there.
First Place — Yue Ming
Second Place — Yue Qiu
For a breathless moment, silence reigned.
Then—
"Yue Ming took first!"
"Yue Qiu is second!"
"Both cousins? From the same family?!"
"The Yue family is truly rising…"
Voices overlapped, admiration and disbelief tangling together.
Yet the two men themselves stood calmly among the crowd.
Yue Ming's expression was serene, his posture straight, as though the world's noise had nothing to do with him. Years of discipline had shaped him into someone who neither flaunted success nor feared scrutiny.
Yue Qiu, standing beside him, released a slow breath and chuckled softly.
"So it really came out like this," Yue Qiu said under his breath. "You first. Me second."
Yue Ming glanced sideways.
"You sound disappointed."
"Not at all," Yue Qiu replied, lips curving faintly. "Just realistic. Being first draws knives. Being second draws schemes."
Yue Ming nodded slightly.
"Then we'll deal with both."