Kays Translations

Just another Isekai Lover~

Chapter 341: As Your Brother, This Is All I Can Do for You

On the Fifteenth Day of the Third Month, the Palace Examination Commenced as Scheduled

At this moment, it was just past the fifth watch of the night. Outside, the sky was still shrouded in darkness, and the pale moon lingered at the horizon, reluctant to depart. Under the soft, silvery glow, Zhu Ping’an hurried along the path toward the venue of the palace examination—the Western Garden.

In theory, the grand palace examination was supposed to take place in the Jingshen Hall of the Forbidden City. From the reign of emperors before Jiajing, all major ceremonies—whether enthronements of emperors, appointments of crown princes or empresses, or even the final stage of the imperial civil service examination—were held there. It was a hall steeped in tradition and solemnity.

But the reign of the Jiajing Emperor was an exception. In the twenty-first year of his reign, during the Renyin Palace Incident, palace maids attempted regicide. The terrifying memory of that night left a deep, lingering psychological scar on the emperor. From that day onward, he harbored a deep-seated aversion to the Forbidden City and refused to reside there. Instead, he moved to the Western Garden, devoting himself to Daoist cultivation and alchemical experiments, seldom attending court. Officials who needed an audience had to visit him there. From that time, the Western Garden became the political heart of the Ming Dynasty, and thus, the palace examinations were relocated accordingly.

When Zhu Ping’an arrived at the Western Garden, the area outside the palace gates was already teeming with people. Candidates in their neatly pressed examination robes waited eagerly, their hearts pounding with anticipation at the thought of stepping into the political center of the empire.

For them, this was a small step in life, yet simultaneously a monumental leap.

The palace examination ranked candidates but did not eliminate them. No matter how they performed, these individuals were guaranteed success; at worst, they would enter the civil service at the same rank as other successful candidates. Even if they did not become members of the Hanlin Academy, they would at least secure positions within one of the Six Ministries or be sent to govern a county. In any case, taking this step meant reaching a pinnacle in life that ordinary people could only admire. The winds of political fortune in the Ming Dynasty would inevitably brush past them. How could one not feel exhilarated?

“Zi Hou, over here!” Zhang Siwei and Wang Shizhen called to Zhu Ping’an from among the crowd.

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“Zi Wei, Wensheng,” Zhu Ping’an greeted with a smile, hastening forward to bow respectfully to them before merging into the throng of candidates waiting for the palace examination.

“Eh? Zi Hou, what’s wrong with you? You look so haggard… those dark circles under your eyes are glaring! Could it be you stayed awake all night out of excitement?” Zhang Siwei asked, stunned at the sight of Zhu Ping’an’s panda-like eyes.

“Zi Hou, calm and composed… should not be like this, right?” Wang Shizhen scrutinized him, a questioning frown crossing his brow.

Under their inquisitive gaze, other candidates—who had paid little attention to Zhu Ping’an until now—also turned to look. To them, he appeared in such a state:

Haggard, listless, pallid, utterly exhausted. His eyes were swollen and dark, lacking any spark.

If they were full, robust grains of rice, Zhu Ping’an looked like a shriveled, dusty seed, mottled with dirt and dark stains.

Naturally, the crowd couldn’t help but feel some contempt. They did not know him, nor did they know that Zhu Ping’an was the champion of the provincial examination. Judging solely by his appearance, they assumed he was delicate, incapable of enduring great responsibilities. After all, it was only the palace examination—a formality in their eyes—and yet he looked like he had lost sleep over it. How could he handle serious matters in the future?

Yet, amid the crowd, two people did not appear shocked, nor did they share the crowd’s disdain. They simply smiled knowingly.

They stood together—one was Ouyang Zishi, flanked by dozens of admiring candidates. He had arrived in the sedan chair of Grand Secretary Yan Song, a spectacle that drew much attention. Beside him stood Xu Penghui, known as Xu Lao San of the Duke of Wei’s household, one of the young men attending the examination in Ouyang’s entourage.

Both men were vibrant, alert, and majestic in demeanor. Their vigor and confidence stood in sharp contrast to Zhu Ping’an’s weary state. Casting a glance at him, they smiled faintly, fully aware of the reason behind his appearance.

In the arena of the imperial examination, only success or failure mattered—process and fairness were irrelevant.

“Congratulations in advance, Brother Ouyang,” Xu Lao San said with a bright gaze and a courteous smile, bowing slightly.

“Xu, you flatter me. The palace examination hasn’t even begun,” Ouyang Zishi replied lightly, a calm, confident expression on his face.

In their minds, the outcome of this examination was already clear: the top scholar would undoubtedly be Ouyang Zishi. The final rankings would only be a slight adjustment from the provincial examination results. Zhu Ping’an had come first in the provincial exam, Ouyang second—but today, Ouyang was well-rested, supported by Grand Secretary Yan Song, and inherently gifted. Moreover, his noble appearance and radiant spirit added to his aura.

Now, look at Zhu Ping’an: worn down from a sleepless night, pale and drained, his plain features further diminished by fatigue. Even achieving half his usual performance today would be an accomplishment.

What reason did Zhu Ping’an have to compete with me?

In such a comparison, there was no doubt: the top scholar would be Ouyang Zishi.

Earlier, when Yan Shifan had bid farewell to Ouyang Zishi, he had said, “This term’s top scholar will be none other than you or Zhu Ping’an. I can only guide you this far—the rest is up to you.”

Ouyang Zishi had once felt a trace of concern. But now, seeing Zhu Ping’an’s state, he felt complete certainty.

This term’s top scholar—none could rival me. Only I, Ouyang Zishi.

Standing outside the palace gates of the Western Garden, Ouyang Zishi’s gaze met the towering walls. Moonlight fell upon him, draping him in a silver glow. To the eyes of the assembled candidates, he appeared towering and majestic.

At this moment, the crowd’s murmurs and curiosity were not the time for explanations. When Zhang Siwei and Wang Shizhen inquired, Zhu Ping’an only shook his head slightly and forced a wry smile. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you after the palace examination.”

Zhang Siwei and Wang Shizhen guessed a little and nodded. They then went over some important reminders for the examination. To them, Zhu Ping’an was still young, focused mainly on scholarship, and somewhat lacking in worldly common sense.

Outside the palace gates, the candidates grouped in threes or fives, exchanging greetings and laughter. They were fellow graduates of the provincial exam, bonded by friendship and mutual future interests in the political tides of the Ming Dynasty. One hero needs the support of his companions; everyone understood this truth.

As camaraderie warmed among them, Zhang Siwei, with his affable personality, engaged eagerly in conversation with many, while Zhu Ping’an and Wang Shizhen were comparatively reserved.

Just as these budding friendships began to solidify, the palace gates of the Western Garden creaked open.