The low-key prince summons trainees from the Imperial Household Department at the start of the game.

When Kong Yan issued the order to investigate Dao Yan from the Grand Tutor's residence.

Daoyan was sitting in a meditation room in the Sutra Repository of the Great Bao'en Temple, sipping tea and reading through a new draft of policy essays that Wang Anshi had sent through a messenger.

A fine drizzle fell outside the window, pattering softly on the banana leaves, while the air inside the meditation room was filled with the gentle fragrance of sandalwood incense.

The ink in the inkstone was ground for him by Su Shi when he came over for tea a couple of days ago, and the ink was ground to the perfect consistency.

The letter delivered by the old servant was placed on the corner of the table, the sealing wax intact, and the seal of the Grand Tutor's Mansion was affixed to the closure.

Daoyan was not dismantled.

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and his gaze lingered for a moment on the seal script character "孔" (Kong) on ​​the envelope before shifting it away to continue reading the policy essay.

He certainly knew what was written in the letter.

Three days ago, the Second Prince Zhou Xun sat in the Sutra Pavilion for an hour, asking him about the training methods for infantry and cavalry coordination. Before leaving, he reluctantly made an appointment for the next time.

When he saw Zhou Xun off, he spotted a familiar figure at the mountain gate.

An old servant from the Grand Tutor's residence was walking over from the direction of the main hall when their eyes met in the crowd.

The old servant lowered his head and hurried away. Dao Yan stood there and watched him leave, his face expressionless, only his fingers, which were twirling prayer beads, paused for a moment.

The investigation at the Grand Tutor's residence took two whole months longer than he had anticipated.

It seems that the Grand Tutor's intelligence network is not as all-pervasive as rumored, or perhaps the Empress and the Second Prince have done a better job of keeping this line of information secret than he had expected.

Either way, it's a good thing for him.

He turned to the last page of the policy essay, picked up his vermilion pen and wrote a line of small characters next to Wang Anshi's discussion on the Green Sprouts Law, and then opened a scroll of new poems that Su Shi had sent through a messenger.

This guy has been making waves in the literary world lately; his poem "Butterfly Loves Flowers" even caught the attention of the Grand Tutor. It's not a bad thing, but it's not without its risks.

He crossed out several overly sharp sentences on Su Shi's original manuscript and wrote the word "restraint" next to them.

Before the ink was dry, he sealed it and handed it to the young novice monk waiting outside, instructing him to deliver it to the Mahavira Hall and give it to the scholar, Young Master Su, who was staying there.

The young novice monk took the envelope, stuffed it into his robes, and ran off in a flash.

The meditation room returned to silence.

Daoyan finally picked up the letter from the corner of the table, turned it over between his fingers, but did not open it. Instead, he got up and walked to the Buddhist shrine, holding the letter up to the flame of the eternal lamp.

The paper curled up, charred, and turned to ash, falling into the copper plate.

He turned and walked back to his desk, spread out a new sheet of paper, and began to write a brief secret report for Zhou Xing.

The drizzle outside the window gradually intensified, and the water droplets on the banana leaves gathered into thin streams, flowing along the veins of the leaves into the cracks of the bluestone slabs.

He wrote with great steadiness, keeping each line to no more than ten characters, his tone as calm as if he were recording the temple's donations for the day.

After writing the last line, he blew the ink off the paper, folded it, and tucked it into his sleeve.

The letter was short, but its contents were very detailed: Kong Yan had already made his move, and it was inconvenient to have direct contact with the Second Prince before the imperial examination.

Jie Fu's policy essays have improved, and the section on the Green Sprouts Law can be used as a reserve of policy essay topics for the spring imperial examinations.

Su Shi's talent was too sharp, and I have advised him to restrain himself, but his talent cannot be concealed, which has both advantages and disadvantages.

It is suggested that He Shengyuan increase financial aid for scholars from impoverished families during the literary gatherings in the capital, thereby expanding the talent pool.

He put down his pen, clasped his hands together, and looked out the window at the Great Bao'en Temple shrouded in rain.

The sound of the evening drum came from afar, deep and resonant.

The royal temple remained silent in the misty rain, with worshippers carrying oil-paper umbrellas coming and going on the stone path.

No one noticed that behind a half-open wooden window in the corner of the library, a monk wearing an old black robe was laying out his sutra in the rain.

Let Kong Yan investigate if he wants. The longer he investigates, the more he will find that Dao Yan is just an ordinary fortune-telling monk. He has not formed any cliques, has not engaged in any private activities, and has nothing suspicious about him.

By the time the results were finally found out, the imperial examination results had already been released, and Su Shi and Wang Anshi were already standing in the imperial court.

Meanwhile, the ripples stirred up in the literary circles of Beijing by Su Shi's poem "Butterfly Loves Flowers" continued to ferment.

The news from the Grand Tutor's residence was like a pebble thrown into the center of a lake, with ripples spreading outwards in concentric circles.

First, several professors from the Imperial College publicly commented on the poem in class, although they held different views.

Some praise his innocence and natural charm, while others criticize him for being too vulgar and not in accordance with elegance, but no matter what, the name Su Shi cannot be avoided.

Then several famous poetry societies in the capital sent invitations to Su Shi to attend the gathering.

Even the senior scholars who compiled the Yonghe Poetry Anthology under the Ministry of Rites were discussing privately that it would be unreasonable not to include Su Shi's poems in this year's anthology.

The storytellers on the streets and alleys turned the story of the eldest prince giving a jade pendant at the banquet for the third-ranked scholar into a story, and told it in teahouses for three days in a row, with every performance packed to capacity.

Su Shi's name is spreading from literary circles to the upper echelons of the capital at a faster pace than in his previous life.

All of this is happening less than six months before the imperial examinations.

After reading the messages gathered from all sides in the side hall, Zhou Xing burned the slips of paper one by one.

Then, unfolding the self-made relationship diagram, I drew a small peach blossom next to Yao Guangxiao's name.

A star was drawn next to Su Shi's name, and two more characters were added after Wang Anshi's four characters "the seedlings have been planted".

"Waiting for rain".

The rain outside the window grew heavier, and the leaves of the old locust tree rustled in the wind and rain.

This spring rain is a good thing; spring rain is as precious as oil.

The seeds in the ground should be sprouting.