Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Scholar Yan Chong

Lu Xun once said that human joys and sorrows do not connect.

Today, outside the Ministry of Rites, Jiang Jiang saw exactly that.

Less than a quarter-hour after the list went up, people were already fainting—some from joy, some from grief. The Ministry of Rites had clearly planned for it; anyone who collapsed was carried out immediately.

Jiang Jiang kept glancing toward the wall.

Was her brother on it?

She finally reached the old tree. It was quieter here. A few wealthy young ladies stood nearby with their maids, whispering as if they were judging theater.

“Miss, we caught one!” several guards shouted, beaming as they hauled a thin, pale scholar under the tree. “Number fifty-six! And he isn’t married!”

The young lady inspected the scholar like she was picking fruit. After a moment, she nodded. “Too skinny… but fifty-six should mean he has real learning.”

And just like that, the group marched off with him, triumphant.

Jiang Jiang stared.

So… they were going to take him home and marry him on the spot?

This whole “snatch a son-in-law under the board” thing was not a joke.

She swallowed, then thought of Jiang Chao Sheng.

If her brother made the list, would he get snatched too?

Then again, her brother was built like a wall. Those guards might not be able to drag him even if they brought ropes.

Comforted by that mental image, Jiang Jiang relaxed and started watching the spectacle with genuine interest.

Another quarter-hour passed. More scholars were seized. One was even a man in his thirties—apparently he’d spent years studying and never married.

“Scholars really are hot property,” Jiang Jiang muttered.

Then she spotted a familiar figure in the crowd.

Tall, slender, impossibly handsome, eyes bright as stars… that strange aura again, making him stand out no matter how ordinary his clothes were.

It was that guy.

Sure enough, he’d been surrounded as well.

With a face like that, he was top-tier merchandise in any era.

But then—whatever he said—those people pulled back, disappointed, and scattered.

A moment later, he walked over to Jiang Jiang.

“It’s you again,” he said, smiling.

“Oh.” Jiang Jiang nodded and stepped back half a pace, keeping distance.

“Your brother still hasn’t come out?” he asked, as if they were old friends.

“Yes,” Jiang Jiang answered, giving him exactly one word.

Her frost didn’t bother him. He continued pleasantly, “My name is Yan Chong. I’m an examinee from He Zhou. May I ask miss’s name?”

Jiang Jiang’s eyes sharpened. “My mother said I can’t casually tell my boudoir name to someone I don’t know.”

Gu Yan Qing fell silent.

The Left Chancellor’s handsome-man gambit had failed.

Spectacularly.

Yan Chong was Gu Yan Qing’s alias. And at least that part wasn’t a lie—he really was from He Zhou. “Chong” was also his courtesy name, just one most people never heard.

The air turned awkward.

Then a roar surged from the front, louder than before.

Jiang Jiang instinctively looked up. Through gaps in the crowd, she saw Ministry of Rites officials carrying out another scroll.

The top three.

“They’re posting the top three,” Gu Yan Qing said lightly.

“Young Master Yan,” Jiang Jiang asked despite herself, “aren’t you going to look? What if you’re on it?”

Gu Yan Qing shook his head, faintly teasing. “Me? I’m shallow in talent. I don’t have that kind of luck.”

Oh. So he failed.

Jiang Jiang immediately understood why those noble ladies had backed off earlier.

Heaven really was fair.

It gave him unfair looks… and made sure his brains didn’t follow.

“Well, Young Master Yan, don’t be discouraged,” Jiang Jiang said, tossing him a casual consolation. “Try again next time.”

“Jiang Jiang!” a familiar shout burst from the crowd.

“Brother!” Jiang Jiang’s face lit up. She waved hard at Jiang Chao Sheng as he pushed his way toward her.

She turned back, about to say something to the man beside her—

And found empty air.

Yan Chong was gone.

In broad daylight.

For a moment, Jiang Jiang wondered if she’d been haunted.

But she had no time to chase ghosts. Jiang Chao Sheng was already striding toward her, and in seconds he was right in front of her.

“Brother, how was it? Did you make it? Did you?” Jiang Jiang grabbed his hand, eyes shining.

Jiang Chao Sheng cleared his throat on purpose, giving her a slow, dramatic look. “I didn’t perform well. I only managed seventy-eighth. Honestly… I’m ashamed.”

Jiang Jiang: [You really would die before you stopped showing off.]

Still, she bounced on her toes and threw her arms around his neck. “You made it! You made it! Brother made it!”

Jiang Chao Sheng steadied her, smiling with open indulgence so she wouldn’t topple.

Far from the crowd, Gu Yan Qing stood beside a carriage, watching the siblings celebrate. For a heartbeat, a memory flashed—his own spring exam year, his sister laughing like this, bright and unguarded.

“Hey! There’s a pretty scholar here!” a middle-aged man called, leading several guards. They’d spent the entire morning snatching scholars for their miss, and she had rejected every last one. They were just about to go back and accept punishment when they spotted Gu Yan Qing.

That build. That face.

This one would do.

“Poor scholar, you’re in luck. Our miss is—”

“Get lost.” Gu Yan Qing didn’t even lift his eyes. He stepped onto the carriage.

The men froze at that single word. By the time they recovered, he was already inside.

Today he was disguised, so he wasn’t riding the Gu Residence carriage. This one looked plain and worn—nothing special at a glance.

The guards tried to rush up and block the wheels.

A blade flashed.

A flying knife shot from the carriage and pinned the middle-aged man’s topknot to the wood behind him.

His hair fell loose. His face went blank. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground—trousers darkening instantly.

Inside the carriage, Gu Yan Qing sat at ease, eyes closed, as if none of it concerned him.

Across from him sat a young man in a black robe—face forgettable, eyes sharp with cruelty. He’d thrown the knife as casually as flicking away dust.

“Chancellor,” the man reported, “we found the location of that batch of official silver. Do we move tonight?”

This was Jiang Wen, one of Gu Yan Qing’s advisers—an expert in tracking and interrogation.

“Tonight,” Gu Yan Qing said, opening his eyes.

A trace of mockery flickered through his cold gaze. “The results came out today. Zhong Zhou’s students performed brilliantly, especially those from great families. The Meng family alone put four names on the list. Let them be happy for the daytime first.”

Zhong Zhou was the heartland of Qing Yun Kingdom—rich, crowded, and ruled by powerful clans. In every spring exam, most of the winners were noble sons. They were born ahead, trained ahead, resourced ahead.

Gu Yan Qing understood: true equality was impossible.

And still… he wanted a day when every student had the same chance, the same resources—no favoritism, no cheating.

A spring exam where talent rose on its own, where the world could see the capable, and the worthy could serve the country.

Could he live to see that future?

Maybe.

Sometimes, even he found his own hopes ridiculous.

Sometimes, even His Majesty mocked him for being naïve.

But Gu Yan Qing still wanted to try.

Even if it took only his two hands, he wanted to push this world—just a little—toward something better.