Chapter Twenty-Six: Only the Written Exam Decides Victory and Defeat-Lend Me Half a Lifetime of Prosperous Tang(Gu Rugu)

Until the moon climbed to the tip of the willow, Wu Songru sat motionless before his drawing paper, lost in deep thought. Yu Lang did not dare disturb him and slipped away quietly.

By the Jade Belt River, he encountered Du Fu, who was fishing. Without turning his head, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, Du Fu addressed Yu Lang, "Did you know that Wu Songru is actually a prodigy?"

"Oh?" Yu Lang stopped in his tracks.

"At six years old, he painted a skylark that won him the highest praise from Wu Daozi, who claimed the boy's talent surpassed even his own. Yet, nearly ten years have passed since, and he has become obsessed with capturing the eyes in his paintings, neglecting his cultivation. The young genius has become the family's shame. Even Wu Daozi now says that, though his grandson is gifted, his obsession limits his future."

"During the physiognomy test, I tried to persuade him to withdraw, truly to help you secure first place. He is the greatest wild card in this competition. If he makes any breakthrough, you might not stand a chance. You have top-tier aptitude in every aspect except the dantian, which remains blocked. That makes this tournament crucial for your life. The next three years? I can only tell you: if you fail to open your dantian in this competition, you may not live to see the next three years."

Yu Lang asked in wonder, "And what if he does paint those eyes?"

Before he could finish, a piercing birdcall rang out from the Pavilion of Purified Heart, and a thousand auspicious rays hung from the eaves.

Du Fu's fishing rod fell from his hands, his face changing dramatically. "He broke through to the Emptiness Realm in one night..."

Du Fu gave a bitter laugh. "It seems you have little chance now—such are the workings of fate, to pit you against a monster like this in your year."

Yu Lang was dumbfounded. Breakthrough—the Emptiness Realm! With a single bird painting, he had ascended instantly? The Emptiness Realm was the pinnacle of the three realms—if one possessed such cultivation, there would be no need to compete for first place in the Academy's entrance trials; one could teach at the Academy!

Yu Lang wanted to slap himself. Why had he tried to recite strange poetry? A cold joke would have been better. Rather than leading the man astray, he had helped him soar to the heavens!

Du Fu had no time for Yu Lang's disappointment. In three hurried strides, he rushed toward the Pavilion to steal a disciple. "Songru, my dear nephew, how about becoming my chief personal disciple? I can offer you the coolest techniques in all of Tang, and the most gorgeous, seductive figure models too!"

The other instructors were not far behind, each deploying their own tactics to reach the Pavilion. The tutors of the Moon-Washing Academy spared no effort, using every means to win this genius to their door.

Wu Songru had already become the predetermined champion of the competition.

Yu Lang found their antics amusing, and the sting of his own disappointment faded a little. He resolved to do his best and leave the rest to fate.

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The written exam for the competition was held in Listening Wind Tower, in the academic wing of the Moon-Washing Academy. Yu Lang found his seat and arranged his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone in order.

The ranking in this written test would affect each candidate’s placement, and thus their chances for the overall championship. All contestants took it very seriously; some, unable to bear the pressure, had already withdrawn.

Yu Lang’s seat was by the window. He closed his eyes and let the gentle breeze brush his face—truly pleasant.

There were four test booklets: poetry, essays, military strategy, and mathematics. Each candidate chose the one subject they excelled at. If they answered all four, only the lowest score would count. This rule ensured no one bit off more than they could chew, reminding everyone that life is short, and true mastery of a single art is the right path.

At the sound of drums, the candidates picked up their brushes and began to write feverishly. In truth, the questions were all difficult; no one could have answers so quickly. Most were merely scribbling circles and lines to mask their anxiety. If everyone else was writing, how could I not at least put on a show?

Only Yu Lang spread all four booklets before him, rested his chin on his palm, and calmly read through them, making no move to write.

As most of the exam time passed, some candidates were nearly finished, but Yu Lang still had not lifted his brush.

Two proctors whispered, "Looks like we have a zero-paper candidate here, ha!"

"I heard this one was recommended by Instructor Du himself. We thought he was something special, but he doesn’t even have the courage to start."

Not far away, Yang Yuhuan grew anxious and whispered, "Mr. Yu, what are you daydreaming about? If you don’t start soon, you’ll run out of time. Don’t set your standards too high. Among these six hundred candidates, plenty are hopeless. With your talent, just answering one test should get you through."

The proctor snapped, "Candidate Yang Yuhuan, what are you doing?"

Yang Yuhuan lifted her head proudly, "My throat is dry. Can’t I say a word or two to moisten it?"

The proctor, flustered, offered her a cup of fragrant tea. "Sister Yuhuan, take care of yourself."

The water in the bronze clepsydra, used to mark time, had nearly run out. Less than a quarter of the time remained.

At last, Yu Lang rolled up his sleeves, dipped his brush in ink, and began to write with vigor.

With one quarter remaining, Yu Lang packed up all four booklets, handed them to the proctors, and departed with an airy grace.

An uproar broke out in the examination hall. "Proctor, I think this person just scribbled on the test booklets, insulting the exam and deserving severe punishment. How could anyone write anything worthwhile in such a short time? It must be gibberish!"

But the commotion no longer concerned Yu Lang. He stretched lazily, gazed up at the clear blue sky, and felt a surge of joy. Since he had to win, why not win with flair? Now that Wu Songru was the clear favorite to take the crown, if Yu Lang didn’t build some momentum for himself, he’d have no chance at all.

The bronze cauldron was struck three times, signaling the end of the written exam.

Yang Yuhuan arrived late, especially to comfort Yu Lang. "Mr. Yu, don’t be discouraged; everyone has their strengths. The Academy’s questions are indeed a bit too specialized. If you have no plans for the future, are you interested in a trip to Chang’an? I have friends there who could help you find a good position."

Yu Lang replied with a gentle smile, "Thank you for your concern, Sister Yuhuan. I am still young and have no intention of traveling far. If fate leads me to Chang’an one day, I will certainly visit you."

Yang Yuhuan did not press him. "I see you have your own plans, Mr. Yu. It seems I’ve meddled too much."

With this round of assessment over, all the tests were complete. The candidates left the Moon-Washing Academy to await the teachers' grading. Some from out of town chose to stay in the Self-Reflection Tower, saving on lodging costs.

Outside the Academy gates, Yu Lang did not see Qingqing and felt a pang of disappointment. Instead, Obaba came rushing over, anxious and battered. "Yu Lang, Qingqing has been taken by the Li family."

"Which Li family?" Yu Lang’s heart tightened.

"The family of Li Wenshan’s father, Li Zhongting. Lately, they’ve been causing trouble at our shop. The new manager and clerks are too scared to stay. In a fit of anger, Qingqing set fire to one of their warehouses at night and killed a clerk. The county magistrate turned her over to the Li family for punishment. I tried to rescue her, but failed..." Obaba was covered in wounds, clearly having suffered in the attempt.

Yu Lang’s eyes turned icy. "Li Zhongting, you and I still have old accounts unsettled, and you dare stir up trouble again."

In hindsight, it seemed their supposed concession of Yu family property had been a ruse, a ploy to provoke. Li Zhongting could not swallow the bitterness of losing his son and was determined to fight the Yu family to the death.

The murderous intent that had been suppressed by the three hundred skulls at Beigu Mountain reignited in Yu Lang’s heart, his whole body exuding a killing aura. The inner demon had taken root—there was no turning back now.