Realizing what she had just said, Lu Wanwan quickly tried to make amends: "Thank you, Superintendent, for picking the flower for me!"
She stepped forward hesitantly and took the peony from Xie Yanxi’s hand.
A cold, icy aura closed in around her. She held her breath, her mind going blank for a long moment until the report from Cheng Feng brought her back to her senses.
"The top scholar is Duan Zhixing from Huaian Prefecture; the runner-up is Xiao Heng, the third son of the Marquis of Yongan; and the third place is Song Lin from Qingyang Prefecture."
Although the Second Prince was a scoundrel, he had said something that Emperor Yongguang found deeply convincing: the state of relations between the two countries was not yet settled. If the article by their Great Chu’s top scholar advocated for war, it would undoubtedly broadcast the Emperor's stance. If that word reached Northern Qi, wouldn't it seal off any path to peace talks?
There was a world of difference between not wanting peace talks and being forced into a position where one could not have them.
Likewise, Xiao Heng, who advocated for peace, could not be the top scholar, so Emperor Yongguang had designated him as the runner-up.
Duan Zhixing, who held to the path of the middle way, had become the ultimate winner.
At this moment, Xie Yanxi glanced at the disruptive Cheng Feng, his eyes radiating freezing cold.
The latter quickly bowed his head: "Also... the Emperor is asking for your return."
"Hmm." He replied impatiently.
Lu Wanwan smiled. "Song Lin isn't the top scholar?"
Cheng Feng respectfully replied, "He may have been intimidated by the Second Prince. Although his writing showed some talent and insight, it ultimately fell short of the top scholar and the runner-up."
Lu Wanwan remembered the Eldest Prince's words from earlier—that the Second Prince had been diligently patrolling the examinations.
So, it was to put pressure on Song Lin.
Knowing the Second Prince's character, she felt sure that simply standing by Song Lin to exert pressure was just the beginning; there were likely more malicious tricks in store.
Seeing that her first concern was for Song Lin, Xie Yanxi wanted to say something, but hesitated and closed his mouth.
Cheng Feng felt a surge of frustration.
If only his master possessed half the boldness he showed during funerals or banquets, he would have won this wife over long ago!
A mighty "Nine-Thousand-Year-Old" who held power second only to the throne, yet he was being beaten to the punch by a little sprout—it was a disgrace to his ancestors and a total loss of face for the Eastern Depot!
He decided to become his master's mouthpiece. "I hear the Imperial Tutor thinks quite highly of Young Master Song. Now that Young Master Song has made the golden list, it shows the Imperial Tutor has a discerning eye."
"A discerning eye is too much to say; my father simply appreciates that he has some talent," Lu Wanwan said politely. "But while talent is visible, character is hard to discern. Who knows if they are a person or a ghost?"
Cheng Feng’s eyes lit up. "Miss Lu speaks the truth! Truly the daughter of the Imperial Tutor—such insight and wisdom, unlike ordinary people!"
Xie Yanxi watched as Lu Wanwan was actually coaxed by a few compliments into showing a hint of a reserved smile, and he began to ponder.
"You are wise and clear-hearted, Miss; your intelligence is unique in this world," he said.
The smile that had just appeared on Lu Wanwan’s face vanished.
In the entire Capital, who didn't know that Lu Wanwan had traded her brain for her beauty?
With so many talented women around, not one would dare claim to be the most intelligent in the world, yet here she was, Lu Wanwan, being told she was?
Who was he mocking? Who was he setting up for a fall?
"Are you unhappy, Miss?" Xie Yanxi looked puzzled.
"..."
Cheng Feng wanted to slap him.
But under these circumstances, he could only smooth things over: "Our Superintendent has always had high standards, but your poise, Miss Lu, is truly impossible to hide, so the Superintendent couldn't hold back his heartfelt words."
Without waiting for Xie Yanxi to open his mouth again, he changed the subject, testing the waters: "I hear the third-place scholar, Song, already has a fiancée. After making the golden list, they will likely be sharing the bridal chamber soon. I once shared a journey with him, so I really should prepare a congratulatory gift."
Lu Wanwan smiled instantly. "They certainly should be wished a lifetime of togetherness, sharing the same quilt in life and the same grave in death."
In her past life, she had ground him to dust and accidentally burned all his old belongings, not even leaving him a tomb for his clothes. To show her regret in this life, she would grant him his wish to be buried with his "white moonlight."
Although Cheng Feng felt there was something strange about her words, he realized that Lu Wanwan didn't care about Song Lin's good news, and he was overjoyed.
As expected! The Eastern Depot would definitely fall apart without him!
Xie Yanxi was also pleasantly surprised.
Wanwan did not like that Song Lin, whose face was wider than the map of the empire!
"Miss—"
"My aunt is still waiting for me, excuse me." Lu Wanwan took the lead in saying goodbye.
Xie Yanxi’s gaze was too aggressive, and nothing good ever came out of his dog-like mouth; why should she stay here and annoy herself?
"...Walk slowly, Miss." Xie Yanxi watched her leave to join the Eldest Princess.
Seeing the rare smile on his typically cold face, Cheng Feng seized the chance to claim credit: "I have fulfilled my mission and finally tested Miss Lu's true feelings. Song Lin is nothing to fear; you can rest easy, Superintendent!"
Xie Yanxi gave him an appreciative look. "Of all those around me, only you are the sharpest."
"The Superintendent and Miss Lu are alike; you both have discerning eyes!"
Cheng Feng was also quite pleased.
He was just about to suggest that his Superintendent should use his brain instead of his feet when speaking in the future, when he saw a young eunuch running over in a panic.
"Superintendent, the Emperor has been waiting for you for quite a while. Was there something that held you up?"
Xie Yanxi: "..." He had forgotten.
Cheng Feng: "..." This was bad.
...
The results were posted on the third day after the palace examination. After leaving the palace, Song Lin returned straight to the inn.
Meng Wan immediately greeted him.
"Brother Lin, how did it go?"
Song Lin was confident. "The top scholar spot is definitely within my grasp!"
"Really?" Meng Wan said happily. "I knew you would be the most outstanding one, Brother Lin!"
Just then, a loud, boisterous laugh came from inside: "Good! Good! As expected of my son!"
Song Lin looked up and smiled. "Father, when did you arrive?"
"Just arrived! We knew you were taking the palace exam, so we waited for you at the inn!" Father Song stepped forward and hugged Song Lin, patting his back. "You’ve really done your old man proud!"
Song Lin's expression suddenly stiffened.
Father Song must have traveled in a hurry and hadn't washed in a long time; the smell of sweat on him was unbearable to Song Lin.
He subconsciously pushed Father Song away.
Walking toward the door, the voices of the Song family could be heard talking all at once. Although they were a bit noisy, this was family, and compared to the suffocating rules of having to be silent while eating and sleeping under Lu Wanwan’s control in his past life, it made his heart feel warm.
This was what a home felt like.
He wore a smile on his face as he pushed the door open, only to be hit square in the face by a smelly sock.
Just as he was about to open his mouth to call for his mother—
The sock, which hadn't been washed in who knows how many days, reeking of a thick, acidic stench, with mysterious debris—perhaps dead skin—landed right in his open mouth...
"Ugh—"
"Ugh—"
"Oh my, Second Son, stop retching!" Mother Song hurriedly patted Song Lin’s back as he dry-heaved, then turned and roared, "Song Gouwa! Are you tired of living? How dare you throw your sock at your uncle! Don't you dare take it off!"
"What else am I supposed to do when I go to bed? I'm taking it off!"
Of the three sons of the eldest brother, Song Gouwa was the youngest and most spoiled; only three years old, he had already become lawless.
But Father Song felt more affection for the top scholar, Song Lin, so it wasn't long before Song Gouwa's crying filled the inn.
After rinsing his mouth for a quarter of an hour, Song Lin finally sat down, his face pale.
Mother Song was heartbroken and hurriedly called out, "Song Xiaocui, quickly pour a cup of water for your uncle! And what about... the pastries, yes, the pastries!"
Hearing the name Song Xiaocui, Song Lin's expression softened a little.
She was the niece he was most proud of, a model of noble ladies in the Capital, every movement and smile as precise as if measured by a ruler.