Liu Chaoming had come regarding the disturbances caused by the examination candidates.

Since the spring examinations, there had been fifteen incidents of candidates gathering to cause trouble. Complaints had even been submitted to the Court of Judicial Review and the Imperial Censorate, accusing Elder Qiu, the chief examiner of the spring examinations, of favoritism and corruption.

Examination fraud cases were no trivial matter. After consulting with Zhang Shishan, Liu Chaoming only briefly reported the matter to the Emperor, deciding to conduct a thorough investigation after the palace examination results were announced.

The pressing concern was security on the day of the announcement ceremony. After the grand ceremony, the top scholar would parade through the streets—the top three graduates would emerge from Chengtian Gate, pass through the Confucian Temple, and proceed to Vermilion Bird Lane. The entire route must be strictly guarded; there could be no mishaps.

Yang Zhiwei said, “Tomorrow I shall be in the palace. All matters at the prefectural office should follow Deputy Magistrate Sun’s orders. According to Lord Liu and Lord Zhang’s instructions, anyone causing disturbances should be arrested and brought to the office.”

Sun Yinde felt like strangling Yang Zhiwei. During the top scholar’s parade, crowds of common people would gather to watch. If someone truly caused trouble mixed among the commoners, how easy would it be to arrest them?

This堂堂 prefect was avoiding difficulties by hiding in the palace, yet dumping this thankless task on him? In his dreams.

Sun Yinde swept his robes aside and knelt on the ground, saying, “Security for the parade falls under the jurisdiction of the Five Commanderies’ Cavalry, does it not? If someone truly causes trouble, wouldn’t I need to request personnel from the Commander? I’m merely a deputy magistrate—how would the Commander agree to hand people over to me?”

Yang Zhiwei replied, “You need not worry about this. I shall leave the prefect’s seal with you.”

Sun Yinde continued, “If I lead the office guards to patrol and maintain order, who will oversee and coordinate the capital’s office?”

Seeing him evade repeatedly, Yang Zhiwei said with displeasure, “Naturally, Judicial Commissioner Liu will step up. Though there are many matters within the office, it’s not as if things cannot function without any one person.”

Hearing these words, Liu Yichu said with difficulty, “I am quite capable of trying cases and hearing complaints, but alas, having passed through the provincial examinations, I am unfamiliar with the protocols of the announcement ceremony and fear I cannot fulfill this responsibility.”

Zhang Shishan’s expression turned displeased: “The capital’s prefectural office cannot find even one person who knows proper etiquette and can oversee and coordinate?”

Zhou Ping seized the opportunity: “Reporting to your lordship, there is a clerk in the office, a presented scholar by birth, who was once taught the protocol of the announcement ceremony.”

Zhang Shishan naturally knew this person was Su Jin, kneeling outside the Reflection Hall.

With wind and rain raging outside, his mind constantly on the young official’s safety, hearing this, he followed along: “Summon him in to speak.”

Shortly after, Su Jin stood outside the threshold of the Reflection Hall, bowing to Zhang Shishan and Liu Chaoming. Having been drenched by rain, she feared bringing dampness inside and did not enter the hall.

Zhang Shishan had wanted to let her change her clothes, but Liu Chaoming had maintained a stern expression since arriving at the office. Zhang Shishan knew he always valued propriety and self-discipline, and fearing that showing Su Jin more leniency would displease him, he got straight to the point: “Since you are a presented scholar, you must be well-versed in the protocols of the announcement ceremony. Begin with the calling of names and explain everything through to the end of the parade.”

Su Jin acknowledged and had only spoken two sentences when Liu Chaoming interrupted coldly, “Cannot hear clearly.”

Su Jin paused briefly, then had no choice but to speak louder and start from the beginning.

Spring thunder rumbled, and the torrential rain fell in chaos. Liu Chaoming’s face was severe, and unable to endure listening any longer, he set his teacup down on the desk with a thud and reprimanded, “Has no one taught you where you should stand when answering?”

The Reflection Hall fell silent as a graveyard. Su Jin said, “Reporting to your lordship, I am completely soaked. I fear bringing the cold dampness into the hall would cause the lords to contract illness, which would be my offense.”

Liu Chaoming’s expression grew even more unpleasant: “Then why are you still standing there?”

His words were cryptic and vague, clearly the manner of one about to pass judgment and impose punishment.

Su Jin hesitated briefly, then immediately knelt and performed a grand bow of apology before hastily withdrawing. In just a moment, she returned, having changed into clean clothes.

The rain had lightened somewhat, and spring sunlight broke through the cloud layer, casting half a measure of light that illuminated half of the Reflection Hall in brightness and half in shadow.

Su Jin raised her eyelids and glanced at the hall. Liu Chaoming sat silently in the interplay of light and shadow, his earlier inexplicable hostility mostly dissipated, his brows and eyes revealing their customary inscrutability.

She breathed a sigh of relief and, following Zhang Shishan’s instructions, carefully explained the protocols of the announcement ceremony once through, every detail proper.

Zhang Shishan nodded and dismissed everyone, keeping only Su Jin.

He instructed, “Though leaving you at the office tomorrow to coordinate is merely a precaution, Sun Yinde is ultimately unreliable. You must be extra vigilant throughout the day.”

Su Jin acknowledged.

Though she had changed clothes, her hair was not yet dry, the cool moisture accentuating her refined brows and clear eyes—the picture of clarity itself.

Liu Chaoming’s gaze swept over Su Jin as he said flatly, “Tomorrow, I shall have the Ministry of Justice send you a death row prisoner.”

Another cryptic, vague statement.

Su Jin pondered for a moment, then asked tentatively, “Does your lordship mean to use this death row prisoner as a warning—should examination candidates truly cause trouble, execute one to warn the rest?”

Liu Chaoming neither confirmed nor denied: “Handle it as you see fit.”

Su Jin fell silent for a moment before saying, “Lord Liu, I am but a scholar who has never even injured another. The noble person keeps his distance from the kitchen—preferring to see life rather than death, let alone taking a human life. I cannot do this.”

Liu Chaoming’s face remained expressionless: “Were you born knowing how to write essays?”

Su Jin did not speak.

Liu Chaoming stood up and, passing by her side, coldly dropped a sentence: “If you cannot, then learn.”

By evening, brilliant sunset colors burst forth, one corner of heaven and earth intensely vivid as fire. All the officials of Yingtian Prefecture, great and small, stood properly outside the office gates in formal ranks, respectfully seeing off the two lords.

Sun Yinde had witnessed Liu Chaoming’s harsh attitude toward Su Jin earlier.

Standing at the front before the carriages, he ingratiated himself by asking, “Lord Liu, I wonder—for Clerk Su’s offense of shirking duties, absenting from duty, and privately investigating forbidden cases, with multiple crimes combined, what punishment would be appropriate?”

Liu Chaoming turned to look at him, his voice betraying no emotion: “He privately investigated forbidden cases?”

Sun Yinde quickly stepped forward to assist Liu Chaoming into the carriage while saying, “The forbidden case is just a manner of speaking—actually it was all his imagination. Some time ago, a tribute scholar returned to his hometown without permission, but he insisted it was a disappearance and wanted to make a fuss at the Grand Tutor’s mansion and the Chamberlain’s palace. If I hadn’t stopped him, it would have caused chaos throughout the realm.”

Seeing Liu Chaoming remain silent, Sun Yinde lowered his voice to reveal more: “Your lordship may not know, but this Clerk Su appears sensible on the surface, yet is wrapped in stubborn bones beneath his skin. His foul temper is twisted beyond measure. Some years ago, he caused trouble and offended the Ministry of Personnel, receiving eighty strokes of the rod, and still…”

Before he could finish, a minor official from the Imperial Censorate raised his hand to lower the carriage curtain, separating him and Liu Chaoming into two different worlds.

The minor official bowed to Sun Yinde with a smile: “Lord Sun, it grows late. If you truly have matters to discuss, why not visit the Imperial Censorate another day to speak with Lord Liu in detail?”

Sun Yinde quickly agreed, then asked hesitantly, “However, I am merely a fourth-rank deputy magistrate—I wonder when I should call, so as not to disturb the Left Censor-in-Chief?”

The minor official signaled to the driver with his eyes, and the driver cracked his whip, setting the carriage rolling away.

The minor official, eyes curved in a smile, bowed apologetically to Sun Yinde: “This was my oversight. Yesterday, the patrol censor saw you, Lord Sun, visiting the Gentle Smoke Quarter during your duty hours, drunk as mud. Just now when leaving the office, Lord Liu instructed me that once this matter is concluded, we should invite Lord Sun to the Imperial Censorate for tea.”

Su Jin stayed up through the night reviewing the *Code of Sui*, the *Essential Statutes of Sui Law*, and the *Gazetteer of the Capital’s Streets and Alleys*.

With the two chief officials from the Court of Judicial Review and the Imperial Censorate both showing up together, she dared not be negligent. Combined with the registry of tribute scholars she had examined days earlier, she suspected in her heart that this incident of examination candidates causing disturbances was not as simple as it appeared on the surface.

Throughout history, examination fraud cases were invariably bloody storms where flesh clung to bone.

Emperor Jingyuan was no merciful ruler either. Over a decade ago, that massive treason case—abolishing the Central Secretariat, eliminating the position of Prime Minister, executing the nine degrees of kinship, implicating over ten thousand people—they were still pursuing conspirators to this day.

Su Jin understood that this was precisely why Liu Chaoming had not gone to the Five Military Commissions Office, had not sought the Twelve Guards, but instead instructed the mere Yingtian Prefecture to lead office guards to make arrests. Should examination candidates truly cause trouble, they would simply be treated as rioters and detained.

Only by simplifying the essential nature of the incident from complexity could a major disaster be avoided.

She was, after all, someone accustomed to scholarship—when immersed in books, she entered a monk’s meditation. Only when the sound of knocking came from outside did Su Jin return to her senses.

The sky’s edge already showed a fish-belly white. Liu Yichu held a cup of hot tea, yawning enviously: “You truly have good fortune.”

Su Jin asked, “How so?”

Liu Yichu said gloomily, “Last night, Old Thief Sun mustered his divine soldiers and generals, rousing us at the second watch to follow him on inspections of various points throughout the city. You were specifically kept behind by Lord Zhang to hold the fort, so you alone were spared the disturbance.”

Su Jin asked, “Since he took everyone away, why are you still here?”

Liu Yichu replied, “If he didn’t leave me, did you expect Old Thief Sun to leave Zhou Gaoyan? He’s hoping you suffer eight lifetimes of bad luck. Taking everyone away is his iron determination not to make things easy for you. You’d better pray to Buddha—absolutely nothing must go wrong today. Otherwise, Old Thief Sun is out on patrol at worst facing a charge of incompetent handling, but you’re the one holding the fort who failed to hold it—beware that the head of the Imperial Censorate, Liu, doesn’t flay your skin alive.”

Su Jin frowned: “How many people remain in the office now?”

Liu Yichu said, “Counting me, about ten or so.” As he spoke, he suddenly nudged Su Jin with his elbow and said cheerfully, “I wondered why you wouldn’t touch meat or fish—turns out you’ve been hiding a sweetheart like an immortal maiden. Your lips are quite sealed tight.”

Hearing his complete nonsense, Su Jin closed the door bolt expressionlessly, changed into light blue robes, hastily washed her face, then opened the door again while saying coldly, “Last time you falsely accused Gaoyan of having a sweetheart, but that person was…”

The words stopped halfway. The person standing outside the door had changed from Liu Yichu to a woman dressed in lotus-colored garments.

Dawn was breaking, wind blew from the horizon’s edge, and the tall green bamboo in the western corner seemed dusted with clear frost. The woman had been looking around, but hearing the sound, she turned to look. Seeing Su Jin, she stood frozen for a long while before asking, “Is… is that Young Master Su?”

—

Author’s Note: Liu Chaoming, single character Yun (second tone), meaning sunlight.