Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 280: The Long Metropolitan Examination Is Finally Over
Swallows do not return, spring lingers late; Mist and rain over the riverbank, apricot blossoms shiver in the cold.
Without anyone quite noticing, spring had reached the capital in the second month. Swallows chirped as they flew into the Shuntian Gongyuan in twos and threes, flitting about almost like another patrol. A nameless flower had quietly bloomed inside the grounds and swayed beneath the sunlight.
Today was the final day of the metropolitan examination. Before dawn, Zhu Ping’an rose, washed, and put on his mask again. He roasted dried meat and preserved fruit over the brazier and forced himself to eat. It had been eight days and seven nights; apart from the hot food on the first day, every later meal had been bland and joyless. For someone who loved good food as much as Zhu Ping’an, it was almost torture.
He had not washed his hair the entire time, much less bathed. Other candidates had it easier, but he was in a stinking booth—practically a disaster. After so many days, his whole body seemed to have absorbed the smell from the latrine next door. Both sets of clothes he had brought were nearly ruined, and he was far more exhausted than he had been after the provincial examination.
Fortunately, today was the ninth day—the final day of the metropolitan examination.
Stinking booth, I’ll endure you for just half a day more! I’ve put up with you this long—what’s another half day?
Once Zhu Ping’an was ready, he tidied up his examination booth, placed the wooden plank horizontally along the wall again, set up his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, laid out the exam paper and drafts, and resumed the exam he hadn’t finished the previous day.
By around mid-afternoon the previous day, Zhu Ping’an had completed all five classics-and-history policy questions on draft paper. By evening he had copied two onto the official answer sheet. Today he only needed to transcribe the remaining three in order, and his metropolitan examination would be complete.
He closed his eyes to rest, and once he had adjusted his body and mind to the optimal state, Zhu Ping’an picked up his brush, dipped it generously in ink, and with full concentration began copying the last three essays from his draft to the official exam sheet.
While Zhu Ping’an was transcribing diligently, some examinees had already finished writing. They packed up, placed their completed papers aside, and then looked around one last time at the place where they had fought so hard.
The metropolitan examination had strict departure rules. Candidates who finished early still had to remain until the final day, when departures were organized in three batches—before noon, in the afternoon, and in the evening. Those already finished could only wait for the first release.
As Zhu Ping’an was finishing the second essay, he heard footsteps outside the examination booth and a commotion nearby. Looking up, he saw many invigilating guards pacing outside, and more clerks coming and going.
While he was still wondering, he heard the clear sound of a wooden gong being struck several times. Then a clerk shouted loudly outside the booth: “The time for the first batch to hand in papers has arrived! Examinees who have completed their work and wish to submit may raise their hands. A token will be issued for departure.”
The examinees in the first batch, upon hearing this, eagerly submitted their papers one after another, received their tokens, and were led out of the venue by invigilators. The nine days and seven nights of the metropolitan examination had worn every examinee thin. Each person who exited had endured a grueling battle and was long overdue for a proper rest at home.
Since Zhu Ping’an still had one essay left to transcribe, he had to wait for the second batch.
With time to spare, Zhu Ping’an transcribed the last essay with utmost care. His handwriting reached its peak form—meticulous and powerful, the brushstrokes piercing through the paper.
When the clerk announced the second batch submission, Zhu Ping’an raised his hand. An officer came to collect his paper, examined it carefully, then began the sealing process. The portion of the exam paper where Zhu Ping’an had written his personal information (name, age, appearance, place of origin, record of conduct, exam situation, names of father, grandfather, and great-grandfather) was folded and sealed. An official seal was stamped across the fold, then collected and further sealed with a red stamp bearing a number identical to the one on Zhu’s paper.
This was one of the metropolitan examination’s measures against cheating.
After receiving Zhu Ping’an’s paper, the officer handed him a pass token. Zhu Ping’an slung his packed bag over his back, grabbed his exam basket, and greeted the guard who had watched over him for the past nine days. Then, following the leading soldier, he strode out of the exam ground.
Rain and snow, falling thickly— Dissolve when the sun appears.
The farther he moved from the stinking booth, the warmer the sunlight seemed and the fresher the air felt. The long metropolitan examination was finally over, and Zhu Ping’an’s mood could hardly have been better.
That was how Zhu Ping’an felt—but the other examinees waiting to leave didn’t quite share the sentiment.
You’re leaving the stinking booth and thinking the air smells fresh—but have you thought about the rest of us?
Nearby examinees, carrying baskets and bags, all instinctively kept their distance from Zhu Ping’an. Although they didn’t know each other, the stench emanating from him was enough to make them glance askance.
Some examinees had seen Zhu Ping’an emerge from the stinking booth and whispered it to others around them. That made people avoid him even more.
Ugh, he came out of a stinking booth. Better stay away so his bad luck doesn’t rub off. Those booths had a terrible reputation; almost everyone assigned to one failed. We’d better keep our distance. I did pretty well in this metropolitan examination, after all.
So, people around him looked at Zhu Ping’an with contempt and kept their distance.
Zhu Ping’an ignored their contempt, the corner of his mouth curling faintly as he waited to be released. Who said someone from a stinking booth could not leap the Dragon Gate?
Finally, the gates opened, and those in the second batch, including Zhu Ping’an, began to leave the venue. Zhu Ping’an followed the crowd and exited the examination grounds.
Outside, a sea of people had gathered—examinees and their waiting families. Some were friends waiting for others to finish, while others were family members. In small groups and large, they whispered and discussed one common topic: the metropolitan examination. Some exchanged answers, some asked how it went, and some shared stories from inside. The atmosphere was lively.
It was quite similar to the scene after the modern college entrance exams—only the clothing was different, giving Zhu Ping’an a strange sense of déjà vu.
As others emerged, they were met with warm welcomes, families eagerly asking how they had fared.
But when anyone from the lavishly dressed crowd of waiting relatives approached Zhu Ping’an, they all instinctively pinched their noses and backed away in disgust.
The crowd didn’t know Zhu Ping’an had been placed in the stinking booth. They just assumed he had terrible hygiene.
This guy reeks! Did he fall into a latrine? Or soil himself from examination nerves? Look at his hair—filthy! He looks drenched in bad luck. With that smell, even the Wenqu Star wouldn’t favor him. No way he passed.
With hygiene like that, forget passing—he won’t even find a decent wife. Juren or not, what good family would marry a daughter to him? Maybe he could still find a peasant girl.
“Young Master-in-law, we’re over here!”
Just as everyone was casting increasingly scornful looks at Zhu Ping’an, a clear and tender voice rang out.
Everyone turned in astonishment and saw a gorgeously dressed, bun-faced young maid happily lifting her skirt as she ran toward the very youth they had just been scorning.