I'm coming clean: I'm the reincarnation of the God of Literature.

The next morning.

The morning market in Qinghe County was three times more lively than usual.

Wang Ermazi, the pancake vendor, shouted at the top of his lungs: "Freshly baked pancakes, guaranteed to get you into a good school! Gu the Prodigy's favorite!"

Grandma Li, who sells soy milk nearby, was displeased: "What good are your steamed buns? My soy milk is the very kind the God of Literature drank! Have a bowl, it'll sharpen your mind!"

The busiest spot on the street corner was the gambling den in front of the county school.

A bald, burly man stood on the table, waving his arms and spitting as he spoke.

"The betting market is open! Gu Shentong has won first place! Pay out 1:1! Bet on someone else! Pay out 10:1!"

The crowd below erupted in uproar.

"I'll bet two taels of silver to buy Gu the Prodigy's top spot!"

"What's that compared to what I did? My third brother bet ten taels! He said it's like picking up money from the ground!"

"You're all too stingy! I'll bet my old workhorse! I'll bet on Gu the Prodigy!"

The streets were bustling with people rushing to see the excitement.

Teahouses, taverns, and steamed bun shops—everywhere you could hear people discussing Gu Ci.

In a private room on the third floor of Wangjiang Tower, Zhang Yan sat alone by the window.

A pot of fine Biluochun tea sat on the table, steaming hot, but he didn't even glance at it.

The noise from outside the window pierced his heart with each word.

"Gu the Prodigy is sure to be number one again today!"

"Of course! He could write a masterpiece at the age of eight; this children's exam is child's play for him!"

Zhang Yan was so angry that he smashed the teacup on the ground with a loud bang.

"Gu Ci!"

"I studied diligently for ten years to pass the imperial examination and become a scholar. What makes you, an eight-year-old child, think you can?"

At the elegant gathering at Wangjiang Tower that day, his meticulously prepared incomplete test questions were trampled underfoot by Gu Ci's sequel to "Yueyang Tower".

The kid's words, "Be the first to worry about the world's troubles and the last to enjoy its pleasures," felt like a slap in the face.

A few days ago, the princess set off to return to the capital, and her grand procession passed by Wangjiang Tower.

He specially changed into his best clothes and stood downstairs, waiting for the princess to summon him.

The results of it?

The carriage curtain remained completely still.

Zhang Yan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Poetry and prose are for scholars and writers; the imperial examinations, on the other hand, test knowledge of the classics and the eight-legged essay! How could an eight-year-old child recite the Four Books and Five Classics so fluently?

He didn't believe it.

Zhang Yan straightened his robes, pushed open the door, and left.

The county school was not far from Wangjiang Tower. Zhang Yan knew the way well, so he walked through the front yard and headed straight for the back hall.

In the back room, an elderly scholar with gray hair was sitting in a chair flipping through files.

Zhao De, fifty-six years old, had served as an instructor at the county school for thirty years. His scholarship wasn't top-notch, but he was senior and stubborn. What he looked down on most were those scholars who didn't follow the proper path and instead pursued unorthodox methods.

"Instructor Zhao, I greet you." Zhang Yan stepped forward and bowed deeply.

Zhao De looked up, saw Zhang Yan, and his expression softened slightly.

"Oh, it's Scholar Zhang! What brings you here?"

Zhang Yan didn't sit down; instead, he sighed, his face filled with worry.

"I have been in Qinghe County these days and have seen a phenomenon that is really worrying me. I can't sleep at night, so I have come to ask the instructor for advice."

Zhao De put down the file and frowned: "What phenomenon?"

"The writing style is superficial and frivolous!"

Zhang Yan lamented, "Today's young students don't read the classics, they don't delve into the rigid, formulaic style of classical Chinese literature, and they spend their days chasing after those flashy but impractical poems and songs!"

Zhao De's face darkened.

Zhang Yan continued, "Look at those common people outside. They're always talking about things like 'Spring Dawn' and 'River Snow,' but if you ask them what the opening line of the *Book of Rites* is, or what the three commentaries on the *Spring and Autumn Annals* are, can they answer that?"

"If this continues, the writings of sages will be ignored, while trivial pursuits like poetry will become the mainstream. The cultural lineage of Qinghe County may be severed!"

"Scholar Zhang is right!"

Zhao De slammed his hand on the table and stood up. "I've been fed up with this for a long time! Young people these days are so unreliable! They're always looking for shortcuts and flashy tricks!"

"Instructor Zhao, I heard that you are one of the deputy examiners for today's children's examination."

Zhao De nodded: "Yes, what's wrong?"

Zhang Yan paused for a moment, then said cautiously, "I have a preliminary idea. In my opinion, it would be better to include more questions that test students' solid foundation in the eight-legged essay style in today's exam. For example, we could extract questions from obscure texts like the Book of Rites and the Spring and Autumn Annals. This would better reveal the students' true abilities."

"Let those who seek fame and fortune have nowhere to hide."

Zhao De's eyes lit up.

"Excellent! Scholar Zhang speaks well! It's time to let these children know what the proper path of the imperial examination is!"

He walked to the bookshelf, pulled out several thick, dusty scriptures, blew off the dust, and turned to one of the pages.

"Let them solve this problem with a line from the Book of Rites, 'When facing wealth, do not seek it unjustly; when facing danger, do not seek to escape it unjustly!'"

Zhang Yan's smile deepened as he looked at the sentence.

This statement is quite obscure, focusing specifically on the conduct of a virtuous person, but it is extremely difficult to interpret.

If the initial analysis is poorly done, no matter how fancy or outstanding the subsequent writing is, it will all be in vain.

"Instructor Zhao is highly skilled."

Zhao De waved his hand: "I'm only thinking about the literary style of Qinghe County."

Zhang Yan chatted for a few more minutes before taking his leave.

As he walked out of the county school, he stood at the entrance, watching the candidates arriving one after another in the distance.

He spotted Gu Ci in the crowd at a glance.

The eight-year-old child was not tall, but wore a brand-new blue cloth long gown and had his hair neatly combed.

Gu Ang followed behind him, carrying a small bamboo basket, his forehead sweating with nervousness.

"Ci'er, are you nervous? How about we go to the outhouse and squat for a while?"

"I'm not nervous."

"You're just bragging! When I first took the imperial examination, my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't even hold the pen properly. Don't try to be brave, I know what I'm doing."

Gu Ci smiled but didn't say anything.

Zhang Yan watched them from afar, her smile deepening.

"Gu Ci, today I'll see how long you can keep up this title of child prodigy."

He turned and left, his figure disappearing into the crowd.

More and more people gathered at the entrance of the county school.

The test takers gathered in twos and threes, some memorizing their notes, others chatting.

"I heard this year's questions were difficult."

"What's so difficult about it? With Prodigy Gu here, even the most difficult questions are useless."

Gu Ci stood to the side, eyes closed, silently going over the contents of the Book of Rites in his mind.

noon.

The school bell rang.

"Clang—clang—clang—"

With three chimes, the children's examination officially began.

The candidates filed in and found their assigned rooms to sit down.

The yamen runners unbound the examination papers, and the only sound in the examination hall was the scratching of pens on paper.

The moment the exam paper was handed out, a collective gasp filled the examination hall.

"Do not seek wealth unjustly, nor avoid danger unjustly."

Several candidates were stunned on the spot.

"This...this is the Book of Rites?"

"It seems so... but I only remember the first few sentences, I've forgotten everything after that!"

"Oh no, I don't even know where this sentence is!"