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

Spring Equinox in the twenty-third year of Yonghe.

When the last snowfall before the imperial examinations fell in the capital, the entire city felt as if it had been plunged into a boiling pot.

The gates of the Ministry of Rites had been closed since the twelfth lunar month, and the carriages transporting the examination papers left deep ruts in the snow.

The Imperial College's examination rooms were filled with candidates from all over the country half a month in advance.

As a result, the writing implements, bookstores, and teahouses on Qipan Street also made a fortune.

The prices at inns tripled, and those who arrived late had to stay in the woodsheds of temples, guild halls, or even private houses, where a straw mat served as their bed.

The atmosphere in the entire capital was tense.

The imperial examinations of the Great Zhou Dynasty were held once every three years, with only a little over a hundred people selected in the spring examinations.

This year, however, the number of candidates taking the exam exceeded three thousand.

Among these three thousand people were the eldest sons of prominent families and the protégés of high-ranking local officials.

There were the academy's headmaster's favorite disciples, and there were also impoverished scholars like Wang Anshi who had toiled for years in village schools.

Everyone knows that once that vermilion gate opens on February 9th, the Dragon Gate will be right before our eyes.

If you leap over it, you become a disciple of the emperor.

If we can't get over it, we'll have to wait another three years.

For a scholar, three years might be a lifetime.

In the Ninth Prince's side hall, Zhou Xing was practicing calligraphy at his desk.

His calligraphy is vastly different from when he first transmigrated two years ago; the strokes are now straight and the structure has a touch of the elegance of Yan Zhenqing's calligraphy.

Chunlan was grinding ink beside her, muttering to herself about the palace rules during the imperial examinations.

The princesses of the palaces are not allowed to meet with foreign officials in private.

The princes were not allowed to move around except to pay their respects to the Empress every day. They even had to go to the Imperial Garden at different times to avoid running into the candidates who came to take the imperial examinations.

As Zhou Xing listened, he wrote with his pen, but his mind was on something else entirely.

He had been waiting for this imperial examination for far too long.

Yao Guangxiao, Wang Anshi, and Su Shi, three outstanding figures of six stars, studied diligently for more than half a year in the peach grove behind the Great Bao'en Temple, waiting for this day.

"Has Your Highness finished writing?" Chunlan leaned over to take a look; only four characters were written on the Xuan paper.

"Waiting patiently for the flowers to bloom."

She tilted her head and examined it for a while, thinking that His Highness's handwriting was getting better and better, but she didn't quite understand the meaning of the sentence.

Zhou Xing put down his pen, smiled at her, folded the Xuan paper and put it in the drawer, then got up to pay his respects to the Empress.

The next morning, before dawn, three thousand candidates lined up in a long queue in front of the Ministry of Rites.

The wind after the snow cut like a knife on their faces, and some of the candidates stomped their feet while holding hand warmers in their hands.

Some were still studying the last verses of the scriptures by the light of the lanterns, while others were talking quietly with their companions to ease the tension.

Su Shi stood in the middle of the line, carrying his book box, with a warm roasted sweet potato in his hand. Li Xiulian had given it to him before dawn, saying that eating it would help him pass the imperial examination with top honors.

Wang Anshi stood in front of him, his back straight as a javelin.

He held a well-worn collection of policy essays in his hand, his lips moving slightly as he silently recited the set of reform regulations he had compiled himself.

Yao Guangxiao did not queue. He had already taken off his black monk's robe and put on a blue robe. He stood under the willow tree not far away, holding prayer beads and closing his eyes to rest.

At exactly 5:00 AM, the drum of the Ministry of Rites sounded three times.

The vermilion gate slowly opened, and the candidates filed in.

The cells were rows of low, pigeon-coop-like huts, each no more than three feet square, containing only a table, a stool, a couch, and a lamp, nothing else.

For nine days and six nights, they ate, drank, relieved themselves, and slept all within this three-foot-wide space.

Those who fail to finish answering questions are not allowed to leave; cheaters will be imprisoned for three months and permanently banned from employment.

Those who fall ill during the examination will be treated by personnel from the Imperial Medical Academy, but no extra time will be given; this was the rule of the Great Zhou Imperial Examination.

Those who cannot endure it are not worthy of being the emperor's disciples.

As the drumbeat signaling the start of the exam faded, the exam-ready hair was unfurled.

At that moment, all three thousand candidates lowered their heads at the same time, and only the rustling of paper turning and the soft sound of pen strokes cutting across the paper could be heard in the examination cells.

Su Shi unfolded the examination paper and first glanced through it.

The three main topics are: Calligraphy Classics, Calligraphy Theory, and Policy Essays.

The "Tijing" section is a fill-in-the-blank exercise that tests a student's memorization of the Four Books and Five Classics.

The "Mo Yi" question is a short answer question that tests your understanding of the meaning of the classics.

The policy essay is the grand finale, testing your understanding of strategies for governing the country.

He read the exam paper twice from beginning to end, but before he started writing, he closed his eyes and mentally reviewed the policy directions that Daoyan had predicted for him.

While studying calligraphy and painting is rote memorization, it is policy essays that truly differentiate individuals.

He opened his eyes, picked up his pen, dipped it in ink, and wrote the first sentence of his policy essay on the draft paper.

In the next room, Wang Anshi had already begun answering the questions.

He writes at a moderate pace, each stroke neat and tidy, just like the man himself.

He didn't have the habit of drafting; in his previous life, he had written countless memorials during the Xining Reforms, and the meticulous analysis of details had long been ingrained in his instincts.

His policy essay was titled "On the Abuses of Current Land Tax and the Feasibility of the Equal Tax Law".

His pen is sharp and incisive. From the Tang Dynasty's land tax system to the current dynasty's Single Whip Tax System, he recounts the evolution and drawbacks of the land tax system, and incisively points out the three major problems with the current land tax system.

Mergers and acquisitions increased daily, the tax base shrank daily, and the poor became more and more impoverished. He then laid out his equal taxation plan point by point.

He did not use any obscure allusions in this policy essay; every sentence was clear and every piece of data was verifiable.

Yao Guangxiao, meanwhile, sat in a corner against the wall, leisurely sketching out an outline on a draft paper.

His policy essay was titled "On the Essentials of Border Defense: Strengthening the Border and Ensuring the People's Peace."

Instead of rushing to write, he first drew a large perimeter map of the grass protection area on the draft paper.

The mountains, passes, military towns, and supply routes in the four directions of the north, west, southwest, and southeast are all clearly marked.

Then he wrote a core argument next to the map: the key to securing the borders lies not in having many soldiers, but in consolidating the foundation.

The way to pacify the people is not through tax reduction, but through equal distribution of land.

In his previous life, he strategized for Zhu Di during the Jingnan Campaign. His understanding of border defense was not just theoretical; he had personally calculated it.

Meanwhile, in the office of the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs of the Inner Court, Zhao Gao was arranging the latest stack of memorials according to their urgency.

Wang Zheng's old illness relapsed last night, and he requested a three-day leave. All the affairs of the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs have now fallen on his shoulders.

The sixteen-year-old eunuch sat in the rosewood armchair that Wang Zheng usually sat in, with memorials from the six ministers and the cabinet piled up in front of him, and a vermilion inkstone for reviewing them beside him.

A young eunuch brought in tea and saw him reviewing memorials. He carefully put down the teacup, not daring to make a sound.

After reviewing the last memorial, Zhao Gao put down his vermilion brush and rubbed his aching temples.

Then he opened a small black-covered booklet he carried with him and added a stroke in tiny handwriting on the last line.

"On the first day of the imperial examination, all three entered the venue."

"Each essay topic has its own strengths: Su Shi (Zi Zhan) gained momentum with his literary talent, Jie Fu (An Yi) convinced people with his logical reasoning, and Dao Yan (Zheng Daoyan) won with his overall strategy."

"If nothing unexpected happens, all three of them will pass the high school entrance exam."

He put down his pen, carefully tucked the booklet away, and took a sip from the already cold teacup.

His gaze drifted through the window toward the Ministry of Rites.

There were three thousand scholars writing furiously, while he had been waiting in the palace for more than two years, waiting for these three people to emerge from among the three thousand, enter the court, and stand on his chessboard.