0025. The Man Who Loved Chickens

Zheng Fanren had no interest in checking the rankings, but he was curious about his mathematics results. He understood in his heart that boasting before Gao Xian was hardly something to be proud of, yet perhaps it was simply because of that sentence: “I am now a student of the Taixuan Institute,” that he felt compelled to see how he had fared in mathematics. He fought his way through the crowd with great difficulty and finally made it to the bottom of the results board.

To his surprise, his eyes landed immediately on the mathematics scores. At the top of the board, it read: “If the answers are correct, the score is determined by time.” He squinted and examined the board for a long while, only to discover his name slightly below the center. In his heart, he exclaimed, “What’s going on?” A glaring red cross was fixed firmly behind his name!

He was somewhat annoyed and muttered to himself, “Impossible, right? Could the examiner be someone who loves chickens?” His habit of scribbling on paper had brought him trouble before—on the ship, he wrote a few extra words and offended a troublesome princess; now, he seemed to have offended a chicken lover.

Seeing his dejected expression, someone behind him couldn’t help but laugh, mocking, “Looks like the wager was unnecessary. With your performance, even a dog’s bark might sound better.” It was Murong Shushan, who, perhaps because of the wager, had fought his way out of the crowd as well.

Zheng Fanren replied carelessly, “If that’s the case, then I won’t bark.” With that, he turned aside and left, knowing full well that in the music test, it was either a perfect score or a cross, and as for the other subjects, there was no point in seeing more red crosses.

Lingyun watched his departing figure and called out in surprise, “Aren’t you going to check your other scores?” Zheng Fanren didn’t look back, replying calmly, “Whether my scores are good or bad, Young Master Murong will tell me.”

The Han Empire had an endearing trait: any gambling debt, no matter who owed it, had to be repaid. This was one of the reasons Zheng Fanren loved the Han Empire so much. If his scores were outstanding, Murong Shushan would respectfully tell him; if they were terrible, Murong Shushan would demand he bark like a dog.

Zheng Fanren was certain it would be the latter, so he decisively left. Although barking like a dog was, to him, merely a performance, there was no need to do it in such a place, especially with so many “domestic fowl” around.

Lingyun was full of doubt—would Murong Shushan really check the scores for him?

Zheng Fanren moved to stand behind the crowd, but he couldn’t leave yet. The person who had embarrassed him was waiting for him: Gao Xian. He had hoped to show off his mathematics score, but now, he couldn’t possibly flaunt a big red cross.

In public, Gao Xian appeared much more suave and carefree. He asked lightly, “You don’t believe what I said?”

“What?”

“The old man at Taixuan has very clear eyes.”

Zheng Fanren replied dismissively, “Sixty-four thousand nine hundred and eight.”

Gao Xian couldn't help but laugh, “I know, but you really shouldn’t have killed that chicken.”

Zheng Fanren exclaimed, “There really was such a chicken?”

Gao Xian nodded seriously, “Yes, the old man’s pet. But a year later, it stopped eating rice, so it wouldn’t bankrupt the Taixuan Institute.”

Zheng Fanren had nothing to say to that, inwardly sighing, “Could it get any more absurd?”

Just then, the crowd suddenly stirred; five talented youths gathered at the foot of the board, and many people instinctively made space for them, their presence overwhelmingly powerful.

Behind Ye Yinghua and his two companions followed a group of girls, excitedly discussing their results, as if the trio’s achievements brought glory to them as well. Yet the most talked about among the crowd was Wan Lixing—standing with his hands behind his back, head raised to look at the board.

The Wan family’s wealth in Anxi rivaled nations, and this second young master was a prodigy. Such dual-talented individuals were exceedingly rare. Though the two great empires had competed openly and secretly for years, none could change Taixuan Institute’s rule of teaching all without discrimination. Today, even with Ye Yinghua, his companions, and Murong Shushan present, it was hard to overshadow Wan Lixing.

Fang Zizai, newly come of age, appeared unconcerned, but during this exam, his musical performance was praised by Taixuan instructors, opening three major mystical nodes through his mastery of the zither. This made him the foremost among the three in cultivation, granting him the ability to infuse his music with powerful offensive mystical force. Upon entering Taixuan Institute, he would be able to learn all sorts of advanced arts.

Even the older Ye Yinghua and Lu Qingsheng had only opened two major mystical nodes. In this regard, Fang Zizai was on par with Wan Lixing, who had opened four. Murong Shushan, too, had four, but as a body mystic, he couldn’t cultivate his own mystical instrument like Fang Zizai or Wan Lixing.

Fang Zizai’s zither and Wan Lixing’s fan were powerful attractions for the young ladies. From any perspective, it was difficult for their names not to be on the lips of the female students.

Suddenly, a wave of applause broke out ahead; all six subjects had been released, and the five had achieved extremely high scores.

Ye Yinghua and his companions turned to acknowledge the crowd, pride written clearly on their faces. In terms of overall results, Ye Yinghua was still the highest, scoring nine out of ten in both literature and etiquette, just one shy of perfection. Lu Qingsheng and Fang Zizai were weaker in physical arts and archery, but Lu Qingsheng had scored perfectly in mathematics, and Fang Zizai in music—both accomplishments to boast of.

The most enthusiastic applause was naturally for Murong Shushan and Wan Lixing; both scored above eight in all six subjects, with perfect scores in archery, and Wan Lixing also achieving perfection in literature.

Both smiled and saluted the crowd, nodding gracefully, appearing extremely modest. The setting sun seemed to smile upon them, bursting through the clouds in dazzling red, making the two shine even brighter.

Behind Ye Yinghua, Lingyun, though resentful, had to admit the two were indeed strong, and said, “Both scored fifty-seven points overall; this must be the highest score in this exam.”

Before Ye Yinghua could reply, a candidate with disappointing results shouted, “Who says so? In the capital, there was a candidate who only took one test, and the instructors decided to admit him with perfect scores in all six subjects.”

At this, Wan Lixing and Murong Shushan frowned.

A skeptical candidate asked, “Why haven’t we heard of this candidate?”

Seeing disbelief, the first hurriedly explained, “It’s true. He was supposed to take the archery test, right next to me, but an instructor wouldn’t let him, saying he’d be admitted with perfect scores.”

His voice was loud in excitement; Gao Xian and his companion heard it clearly as they were about to leave, but the speaker, fearing no one would believe him, searched for Gao Xian’s face. As Gao Xian moved, he was spotted.

Pointing at Gao Xian, the man cried out in delight, “It’s him, it’s him!”

The crowd turned as one to gaze at Gao Xian; having no choice, he smiled and acknowledged them. His silence confirmed the story, and Wan Lixing and Murong Shushan’s expressions soured, though they did not wish to lose their composure before the crowd.

Both saluted at once, but Gao Xian ignored them, turning to speak with Zheng Fanren instead.

Before embarrassment could set in, they exclaimed in surprise, “Zheng Fanren!”

Immediately, Murong Shushan said urgently, “Damn, I haven’t checked his scores yet!”

With that, he hurriedly turned to search for Zheng Fanren’s name.