The matter of reforming the imperial examination system had been formally placed before the court in the wake of this examination fraud case.

With the great clans no longer dominating Great Sheng’s affairs, and officials no longer huddling together for warmth, Zhang Zhixu — though still bearing criminal charges — submitted anew his substantial memorial, together with the one from Ye Shuangtian written years ago, laying out before all under heaven the urgency of reform.

The matter swiftly spread throughout the length and breadth of the land. Scholars across all regions offered their enthusiastic approval, and figures such as Ji Qiurang stepped forward to beat the drums of support, presenting a petition signed by ten thousand to His Majesty.

The tide was overwhelming; voices of opposition were instantly silenced, without even a whisper remaining.

Li Bingsheng seized the moment and swept out her hand with authority: “Memorial approved.”

Her voice rang out clear, echoing through all twenty-four wards of Shangjing, and carried on the proud spring wind of this year’s newly successful graduates — drifting slowly outward across all of Great Sheng.

Chen Baoxiang sat before a grave mound amid green mountains, and at last lifted her brush to slowly fill in the name on the blank stone tablet.

“By the grace of His Majesty, the old case against the Ye family has been completely overturned.” She looked at the tablet as she spoke. “Ye Shuangtian has had the title of Chancellor restored to him posthumously and been given a burial of honor in the Loyal Subjects’ Cemetery. The entire Ye family has been pardoned — when the examinations open again, Han Xiao will be able to participate openly and rightfully.”

“Hearing all this, you will be glad, won’t you?”

A mountain breeze stirred, and the green grass and branches all around rustled softly in answer, like someone’s gentle echo.

Chen Baoxiang finished writing those three characters she had practiced so many times, then rose, spread her arms, and embraced the wide stone tablet.

“I am going to live new days now — carrying your wishes along with me.” With her forehead pressed against the tablet, she said: “Grandmother, this time you need not worry about me. I am no longer alone.”

In the direction where the grass was bowing low, Zhang Zhixu took two steps forward, then stopped, and from a distance offered her a bow.

Behind him stood Jiuquan, Ningsu, Zhao Huaizhu, Zhang Yinyue, Wang Wu, Fenghua, Han Xiao, Lin Manyue, and even Ji Qiurang — garments rippling, figures overlapping one upon another.

Wherever she might go, whatever she might wish to do — these people would stay by her side always.

Her eyes shimmered with ripples of feeling. Chen Baoxiang finally smiled — a smile that set the wildflowers beside her trembling, a smile that swept away every knot of sorrow in her heart.

·

Several months after the successful reform of the imperial examination system, Zhang Zhixu was reinstated by Li Bingsheng, appointed as Left Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs. Zhang Yinyue also returned to the Bureau of Manufacturing’s Pharmaceutical Division as a female official.

Hua Lingyin had worried somewhat that the Zhang family might use this as a chance to rise again from the ashes, but His Majesty, without a word of debate, sent all remaining Zhang family members — including Zhang Ting’an — off to Xuanhe Pass.

Xuanhe Pass was where Zhang Ting’an had built his merits and distinguished himself. Sending the Zhang family there, though somewhat better than banishment to Lingnan, was after all a remote frontier posting.

Hua Lingyin found this rather curious: “Was His Majesty really willing?”

Li Bingsheng smiled, though the smile did not quite reach her eyes: “What use is it if We were unwilling? He said what he said.”

Zhang Ting’an had persistently refused to enter the inner palace, and on the rare occasions she summoned him, he always had the look of someone prepared to die remonstrating.

Now that she sat firmly on the throne, what manner of man could she not have?

And so when he himself petitioned to return to Xuanhe Pass, Li Bingsheng was displeased — but she agreed.

This was Zhang Ting’an’s choice. For decades, she had never once respected his choices; this one time, why not let him go?

Besides, only with all the Zhang family members gone from Shangjing could she freely continue to employ Zhang Zhixu without concern.

It was fine — Li Bingsheng was very good at seeing things in perspective.

The greater good comes first, after all.

Just as with Zhang Zhixu and Chen Baoxiang — so clearly inseparable from each other, and yet, for the sake of the greater good, they had still not married.

·

Zhang Zhixu had indeed not married Chen Baoxiang.

He had only, on the day he officially moved into the Pingqing Marquis estate, hosted a lively banquet, making a point of inviting Pei Ruheng to celebrate.

“Lord Zhang?” Pei Ruheng was thoroughly on his guard, terrified of being targeted for revenge again.

Zhang Zhixu clapped him on the shoulder and said warmly: “I am magnanimous by nature — I have never been one to bear petty grudges.”

Pei Ruheng was just about to believe him, when he was hauled by Ningsu to a spot beneath a certain pavilion, sat down in a chair that had been precisely positioned, and made to look up at the two figures above performing a game of matching couplets.

“I recall feelings for you like the waters of the Western River.” Chen Baoxiang recited with a rhythmic tilt of her head.

Zhang Zhixu smiled faintly in return: “Flowing east, day and night, without pause.”

“Only the spring moon in the courtyard is full of tender feeling.”

“Still shining for the wanderer upon the falling blossoms.”

“Though I hate to walk alone as winter fades to its end.”

“The day will come when we meet again beneath a full and round moon.”

Pei Ruheng: “…”

He called this being magnanimous?

Truly shameless.

Cen Xuanyue and the others stood to the side holding cups and watching the spectacle, and at the sight of this, she felt something bittersweet.

Back then, Pei Ruheng had come to see her, stammering and evasive, saying he wanted her help with a favor. She had assumed it was some court matter — but instead he had wanted her to help stage a scene to gauge a certain young woman’s reaction.

As the two of them stood up on the high tower matching couplets, Pei Ruheng’s eyes had kept darting downward, afraid she might be upset, yet also afraid she might not be.

Cen Xuanyue had found it puzzling: “If you harbor feelings for her, why can you not simply be candid about it?”

“I am afraid her heart may not hold me.” Pei Ruheng had said, brow furrowed. “One must first gauge the waters before daring to offer one’s true heart.”

Cen Xuanyue had felt his reasoning was somehow wrong, but couldn’t quite articulate why.

Seeing Zhang Zhixu and Chen Baoxiang together now, Cen Xuanyue finally understood. When one truly admires another person, who would use a third party as a test? Everyone’s dignity is dignity. Those who fear losing often end up losing the most.

But that was strange — Zhang Zhixu had clearly not been present for the couplet exchange back then. How could he have remembered every single line they had matched that day so clearly?

Watching as Zhang Zhixu dragged Pei Ruheng off for drinks, she couldn’t help but smile at Chen Baoxiang as she walked over: “The Pei family no longer holds any appeal for you, yet he still seems to mind quite a bit.”

“How embarrassing, how embarrassing.” Chen Baoxiang clasped her hands in greeting. “Fengqing is characteristically petty — best not to provoke him.”

At these words, Sun Fuyu, Lin Guilan, and the others present all felt a kind of surreal, dreamlike sensation wash over them.

The woman who had once put on airs as a fake noble daughter — she had now become the most powerful minister in the realm, second only to the Emperor herself.

Lin Guilan still couldn’t suppress her curiosity: “How on earth did you get involved with someone like Zhang Zhixu in the first place?”

“It’s a long story.” Chen Baoxiang waved her hand. “Impossible to explain in just a few words.”

“Then surely you can at least tell us how you persuaded him to move here.” Sun Fuyu was intensely curious. “With no formal name or title to speak of — most ordinary men wouldn’t agree to it, let alone someone of his standing as Left Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs. He’s not without other residences either — what made him agree?”

Chen Baoxiang raised a single index finger with an air of great mystery.

“I only said one thing.”

“What?”

“I said: Zhang Fengqing.” She smiled. “Do as I say, and I shall see you soar to the heights.”

(Main Story Complete)