The instant Mei Heshi opened his eyes, a bitter wind swept flecks of snow against his cheeks, stinging his skin.
Voices clamored around him, footsteps shuffling in every direction. Men in thin robes stood in a long, crooked line as yamen runners barked orders at them.
Before he could react, unfamiliar scenes flashed through his mind.
A boy with both legs broken was dragged out of the examination shed by yamen runners, his blood leaving a glaring red streak across the snow.
In a dark prison, the boy lay curled on a heap of straw. Hearing the jailers discussing how the examination candidate Chen Yaowen had won the prefect’s favor, he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood and died.
…
“Shi-ge’er[1]Familiar form of address for Mei Heshi, using Shi, the last syllable of his given name. Ge’er is an affectionate address for a boy here jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3515220_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3515220_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });!”
A young man approached briskly through the snow, his face wreathed in the friendliest of smiles.
Mei Heshi did not answer. He merely lowered his eyes to the unfamiliar, childish hands before him and the woven bamboo examination basket he was holding.
The basket was old and mottled, its bamboo strips worn to a shine. The handle had long since begun to rot and creaked at the slightest movement.
The lid over its lower compartment had warped upward, leaving a narrow gap. Whenever the wind swept past, flecks of snow drifted inside.
Could the scenes that had appeared in his mind be memories of this body’s past?
On closer consideration, that did not seem right.
Mei Heshi looked toward the imposing vermilion gates. Those scenes seemed less like the past than what he was about to face.
The young man came up to him and patted his chest.
“Shi-ge’er, you certainly made me hunt for you. I turned around, and you were gone—”
He abruptly broke off and pointed at the narrow gap in the basket.
“Look at your examination basket. The lid’s come up! If snow gets inside and dampens your brush, ink, and food, how will you sit the examination?”
“Luckily, there’s still time. Let me put it to rights for you and check your brush and ink while I’m at it. We wouldn’t want anything going wrong once you’re inside.”
Several nearby candidates looked on approvingly.
It was rare to find someone so considerate in weather like this.
Mei Heshi kept his eyes lowered, looking dull and awkward. He gave a slight nod.
“Thank you, Brother Chen.”
Chen Yaowen held down the lid with one hand. With the other, he reached into the lower compartment as though casually, shifting the few cone-shaped steamed buns inside.
“Look. They’re all wet,” he said regretfully.
Mei Heshi glanced at them and answered in a low, muffled voice, “Growing grain is hard work. We mustn’t waste food. I can peel off the outside.”
Looking at his thin shoulders, Chen Yaowen suddenly remembered how, years ago, Mei Heshi had shared half a piece of zongzi candy with him—a treat he had been reluctant to eat himself. The paper rolls concealed between Chen Yaowen’s fingers seemed to burn.
But a moment later, he remembered the Mei Heshi of his previous life: the third-place graduate of the palace examination, seated high on a white horse, surrounded by throngs of admirers. His hesitation vanished, leaving only jealousy and hatred.
*Shi-ge’er, don’t blame me for being heartless.*
*Blame your own good fortune. You stood in my way.*
Hardening his heart, Chen Yaowen turned slightly to block the others’ view. With a flick of his fingernail, he brought the paper rolls to his fingertips.
Then he turned his hand over and pressed the three rolls into an old, narrow split between the basket’s compartments.
The entire movement was smooth and unbroken. No one noticed a thing.
Chen Yaowen fastened the basket’s clasp and gave it a couple of gentle shakes to make sure it held. Only then did he return it, brushing the dust from his hands with a smile.
“There. It’s snug now. No need to worry, however hard the wind blows or the snow falls.”
Before Mei Heshi could answer, he turned and took his place behind him. He spoke at just the right volume for everyone nearby to hear.
“Shi-ge’er has plenty of good qualities, but he’s young and rather careless. He can’t even put an examination basket in order, and that’s something you really must take care of.”
“Luckily, I noticed in time. If he got inside and found something wrong with his brush or ink, it would be too late for regrets.”
A little ahead and to the right, Liu Cheng, a fellow candidate from the same village, scratched the back of his head in astonishment.
“That fellow’s always looked down his nose at us. Has some unclean spirit possessed him today? What else would make him so friendly to you?”
Mei Heshi acted as though he had heard nothing. His gaze briefly passed over the yamen runners patrolling ahead with their staffs, then the two candidates standing on either side of Chen Yaowen, before quietly moving away.
The line inched forward. Flecks of snow swirled down onto their shoulders, and the cold crept beneath their robes and into their bones.
Amid complaints about the cold, another candidate passed the inspection and entered. Only two people remained ahead of Mei Heshi.
Just then, he lowered his eyes and lifted the basket’s lid.
“The snow’s getting heavier,” he murmured. “I wonder whether my brush and ink have gotten damp.”
His broad sleeve fell over his hand as his fingers slipped into the narrow gap between the compartments.
His fingertips touched the paper rolls. They felt slightly sticky.
A gentle scrape was enough to dislodge them.
Holding the rolls between the pads of his fingers, Mei Heshi took out two steamed buns and turned toward Chen Yaowen.
“Thank you for fixing my examination basket just now. Mother was worried I’d go hungry and made quite a few buns. May I give you two?”
Chen Yaowen had not expected the usually taciturn Mei Heshi to strike up a conversation. His gaze grew more searching.
Seemingly oblivious, Mei Heshi steadied Chen Yaowen’s basket by its handle, opened the lid, and placed the buns inside.
At the same time, a push of his fingertips slipped the paper rolls into the hollow bamboo tube of the handle.
The candidates on either side of Chen Yaowen had been idly looking around. Catching sight of the movement, their eyes widened. They hurriedly covered their mouths, swallowing the cries that nearly escaped.
*What had he hidden in that examination basket?*
*What was he up to?*
Chen Yaowen kept his eyes fixed on Mei Heshi’s face. Seeing his open, untroubled expression, he relaxed a little.
When he looked down, Mei Heshi had already closed the lid. The boy pressed his lips together in a small, slightly awkward smile.
“They’re made with white flour mixed with coarse grains. They taste fairly good. I hope you won’t mind them, Brother Chen.”
Chen Yaowen rubbed his chin, his smile warm.
“Since they’re from you, Shi-ge’er, I’ll certainly savor them.”
Once Mei Heshi turned back around, Chen Yaowen casually lifted the lid and took out the two buns. He felt them over, inside and out, then examined the interior of the basket.
There were no slips of paper, paper rolls, or anything of the sort.
Relieved, Chen Yaowen inwardly laughed at his own needless suspicion.
Mei Heshi was no longer the powerful, calculating Official Mei of his previous life.
Now he was merely a ten-year-old child.
Even if he possessed a little cleverness, how could he possibly see through such a foolproof scheme?
Seeing Chen Yaowen search only inside the basket, the neighboring candidates parted their lips, then hesitated.
“Brother Huang, would you listen while I recite the *Analects* once more?”
“Brother Zhou, do you still remember that question from last night?”
Both swallowed what they had been about to say and turned to talk to their companions.
…
“Next! Step forward for inspection!”
The yamen runner’s curt command carried unmistakable authority.
Mei Heshi stepped forward.
“Mei Heshi. Native of Taiping Village, Qinghe County. Ten years of age…”
The clerk paused over the register and looked up at the candidate before him.
Most of the candidates were old enough to wear their hair bound up. There were even white-haired men past fifty among them. Standing in their midst, Mei Heshi was undoubtedly the youngest.
He looked less like someone seeking scholarly honors than a child who knew no better and had come to join the excitement.
Still, the requirements for registering for the County Examination were hardly stringent. So long as a candidate came from an unblemished family background, no one asked how many years he had spent studying the sages’ writings or how much learning he possessed.
The clerk inwardly shook his head. Why hadn’t the family tried to dissuade him? How could they let the child indulge in such foolishness?
When he scribbled a load of nonsense on his paper, wouldn’t those five hundred copper cash in registration fees have been wasted?
Feeling a pang of sympathy for the official who would have to mark the paper, the clerk finished reading out the remaining information. Once a stipend student had checked the details and confirmed the candidate’s identity, he drew a circle after Mei Heshi’s name.
“All right. Go and be searched.”
Mei Heshi bowed to the clerk with his hands clasped, then set his examination basket on the table.
The experienced inspecting officer ordered him to remove his clothes, shoes, and socks. He checked the layers of his clothing, his cuffs, the tops of his socks, and the tie binding his hair, leaving nothing unexamined from head to toe.
Having confirmed that he carried no illicit notes, the officer took the examination basket and removed the food and writing implements, inspecting each in turn.
Even the inkstone was tapped around its edges with a small hammer, lest it be hollow and conceal forbidden material.
Then the officer dismantled the basket layer by layer, carefully examining its woven bamboo walls and compartments.
Finally, he slid two fingers into the gap between the wooden partitions.
Over the years, many illicit notes had been hidden there. It demanded particular care.
Chen Yaowen swallowed, suppressing the excitement surging within him. A barely perceptible flicker of anticipation crossed his eyes.
The next instant, the inspecting officer’s expression hardened. Scraping forcefully at the gap, he pulled out two paper rolls.
He unrolled them, revealing minute handwriting: passages copied throughout from the *Collected Commentaries on the Four Books*.
“How dare you!”
The officer jerked his head up and slammed his hand on the table. His furious shout silenced everyone nearby.
“You dare smuggle illicit notes into the County Examination? Seize him at once!”
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