Xiang Ruzhen pondered for a moment, then said earnestly, “It really is a fine poem, a masterpiece for the ages. Drink three cups.”
Of course, in the end, it wasn’t just three cups.
The next morning, Yan Wuxin’s personal attendant, Ye You, came to wake her.
The moment the door opened, Lu Jinlan nearly dropped her jaw.
Knives, spears, swords, and halberds lay scattered all over the floor, almost tripping her. A pear-wood table had split in half, with cups and plates strewn everywhere. What baffled her most were the three arrows embedded in the ceiling—she could not imagine how they had even reached up there.
It was already late, so she carefully stepped over the debris and began calling out.
“Miss, wake up!”
Ye You lifted one corner of the blanket, revealing a sharp, intense, unfamiliar face. Lu Jinlan quickly went to lift the other side—this person, with a jade-like complexion and golden-hued features, was definitely not her mistress.
Ye You, panicking, yanked the blanket off and dragged Yan Wuxin out from under it.
“Little Miss, wake up! Today’s the exam!”
“Exam?” Xiang Ruzhen shouted, suddenly opening her eyes. “Wake up!”
“Huh?” Yan Wuxin groggily opened her eyes, her head heavy and throbbing. “Oh no! We’re running late! Quick, wake Jinlan up.”
“She’s way too drunk. I’ll carry her to the exam first,” Xiang Ruzhen said, hoisting the unconscious Lu Jinlan onto her shoulders like she was carrying a pig. Rubbing her eyes, she started heading out.
“Wait for me!” Yan Wuxin tried to follow, but as soon as she got out of bed, her legs buckled and she collapsed with a thud.
When Lu Jinlan opened her eyes, her head was hanging down and her stomach churned violently. She pounded on Xiang Ruzhen’s back. “Put me down! I’m going to be sick!”
The moment she hit the ground, Lu Jinlan scrambled to the side in a pitiful state.
Yan Wuxin had fallen in a mess, and hearing the noise, rushed out, shouting, “That’s my koi pond! My koi… ugh…”
Ye You ran after them, seeing the two of them vomiting by the pond, while Xiang Ruzhen anxiously urged beside them: “Done yet? Can we go now?”
Ye You shouted outside, “Someone, hurry! Prepare some sobering soup!”
The well-trained servants moved with astonishing speed. Different people carried different tools; the three of them quickly washed up and got into the same carriage.
Lu Jinlan slapped her head. “My sword!”
Yan Wuxin quickly lifted the curtain and ordered, “Send Miss Lu’s sword and my Fengming Long Dao to the exam hall.”
“They’ll be delivered on time. Don’t worry, we just need to get there first. They might not draw first, but your weapons will definitely be there before you take the stage.”
Lu Jinlan looked at her hands, feeling uneasy. “I don’t know what happened… my hands hurt a bit. I hope it won’t affect my performance.”
“I know what happened,” Yan Wuxin vaguely remembered a bit from last night. “It was from when you fought Ruzhen.”
Lu Jinlan tried to recall. Ever since they started drinking, everything had gone absurdly.
It had to be said—when drunk, they lost the restraint they normally had and acted more like sixteen- or seventeen-year-olds. Because they admired each other, they quickly got along and then started sharing dreams together.
Yan Wuxin said, “I really hope both of you pass. If we’re together, the next three years will be very enjoyable.”
Lu Jinlan: “I have confidence. How about Ruzhen?”
Xiang Ruzhen: “Determined to win.”
Lu Jinlan: “By the way, who taught you your spear technique?”
Xiang Ruzhen: “Who do you think?”
Lu Jinlan snorted. “I think you haven’t been taught by anyone. You just rely on raw strength.”
Xiang Ruzhen nodded slightly. “Winning is enough. How you win doesn’t matter. You don’t know—I have natural strength. Don’t believe me? Let’s spar now.”
When the local student provoked Xiang Ruzhen yesterday, Lu Jinlan had guessed that fighting her would hurt her hands.
Now that it was her turn, she realized it wasn’t just hand pain—her entire arm felt numb. Even after sleeping, her hands still ached.
Xiang Ruzhen also vaguely remembered fragments of last night. But she looked at her own hands in surprise. “Why do my hands hurt too?”
Lu Jinlan helpfully explained, “You cracked that pear-wood table yourself.”
“Ah…” Xiang Ruzhen glanced apologetically at Yan Wuxin. “Forget the four hundred wen. You don’t have to pay.”
Yan Wuxin gave a wry smile. “You two drunks… I don’t even want to argue with you. You wrecked a fine table and scared my fish. And you’re complaining about sore hands? I have pain too—not just in my hands, but all over.”
Lu Jinlan and Xiang Ruzhen exchanged a guilty glance, too embarrassed to speak.
The fight had started between Lu Jinlan and Xiang Ruzhen, but they quickly realized their strength was far too mismatched. One had natural strength and consistent practice; the other had only trained for less than two months.
Xiang Ruzhen, drunk, didn’t know her own strength, and every time Lu Jinlan blocked a move, it hurt so much she wanted to run.
Using all the light-footed skills, body techniques, and top-tier sword techniques she had learned in the system, Lu Jinlan held on for thirty exchanges. Finally, unable to continue, she let Yan Wuxin spar with Xiang Ruzhen instead.
Yan Wuxin had grown up with systematic martial arts education, studied under many masters, and was proficient with every kind of weapon. With alcohol in their system, none of them wanted to lose face in front of new friends. Using her best skills, she sparred with Xiang Ruzhen for over half an hour.
By the time Yan Wuxin’s exhaustion and sweat were at their peak, she still pretended to be calm. Yet barely had she sat down when Lu Jinlan said, “Now you spar with me a bit too.”
And so, Yan Wuxin sparred one-on-two all night. When she woke up, her body felt as if a horse had trampled it—every inch ached, and she gritted her teeth.
Before the exam, all three felt ashamed, each holding their sore limbs, lost in thought.
Lu Jinlan felt guilty. Today’s exam could decide their futures; she shouldn’t have indulged last night.
She thought: Yan Wuxin is already admitted, so no worries there. As for herself, if she failed, she could always return to Yunzhou as a rich second-generation heir. But she worried about Xiang Ruzhen.
Coming from impoverished Mianzhou, with her family not wealthy, how much effort must Xiang Ruzhen have put in to obtain this entry notice to the capital? To come all this way only to have her future jeopardized by one night of drinking would be a shame.
Lu Jinlan: “Ruzhen, if drinking with us affected your exam, would you be angry with us?”
Xiang Ruzhen shook her head. “No. You didn’t force me to drink, so why would I blame you?”
Lu Jinlan smiled silently. She had always thought Xiang Ruzhen was stubborn, but even stubbornness had its advantages—she was particularly reasonable.
Xiang Ruzhen continued, “This small problem won’t affect the exam. If I want to achieve something, I will. Today on the stage, there are only two possible outcomes: either I win or I die.”
She said this casually, looking out the window, but her tone was unwaveringly firm.
Lu Jinlan and Yan Wuxin both took a deep breath, thinking it couldn’t be that extreme.
Yan Wuxin wanted to say something, but Lu Jinlan held her wrist, signaling her to remain silent.
For people like them, “future prospects” meant nothing compared to what it meant for the poor. They had no right to advise others to take it easy; it would sound like mockery.
Finally, the carriage arrived at the exam hall. Thank heavens—the heavy crowd of onlookers had blocked traffic, delaying the start of the exam by half an hour.
Seeing the congestion, the three abandoned the carriage and walked the last mile. Along the way, they noticed the street vendors and understood why the traffic was so bad.
They squeezed forward together, with Yan Wuxin frowning in complaint: “These people are too good at business. Is every small vendor in the country here? It’s busier than the Lantern Festival.”
At that moment, an elderly woman shouted, “Look! Look! Collection of the literary exam papers of nineteen out-of-town candidates! Five hundred wen each, limited copies—first come, first served!”
Yan Wuxin quickly tossed over one or two silver coins. “Give me two copies.”
Lu Jinlan shook her head. “You still have the heart to read this at a time like this?”
Yan Wuxin: “The traffic’s terrible, nothing else to do. I have time to study your masterpieces.”
Xiang Ruzhen grew impatient and grabbed their arms. “Stick close to me.”
She barreled forward, and the three managed to find seats early.
The circular stage had out-of-town candidates and already-admitted local students seated opposite each other. Most candidates had arrived, but the examiners’ seats at the front were still empty.
Yan Wuxin, seeing that the exam hadn’t started, stayed in the out-of-town candidates’ section, squeezing in beside them.
The surrounding students whispered, “I heard this year there are unusually many daughters of imperial relatives. The admitted local students have also reached a new high—totaling eighty-nine.”
“So many? We out-of-town students are in trouble. The Royal Academy admits no more than one hundred freshmen each year. That means the nineteen out-of-town candidates can only compete for eleven spots.”
“So harsh? That means almost half of us will have to go home?”
Complaints erupted around them. Yan Wuxin whispered, “Don’t be nervous. No exaggeration—my skills are among the very best in the local students. That local student who fought Ruzhen yesterday was a top-tier local. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so arrogant.”
She glanced at Lu Jinlan. “I’m not worried about Ruzhen. I’m worried about you. Your body is weaker than most martial artists. Be extra careful.”
Lu Jinlan thought: there’s nothing I can do—the starting point was too low. Since taking over this body, I’ve trained as much as possible.
With the system’s help, her body now was far superior to two months ago. She sparred with them last night and was proud, but achieving in one night what others had practiced for over ten years was impossible.
She silently vowed to focus on internal skills after the exam. She had been so focused on techniques and agility that her internal cultivation had lagged. She blamed the system—it could only let her study one skill per night in her dreams. If she could study ten, she wouldn’t be so nervous today.
Soon the examiners arrived, and the weapons were delivered. The martial exam was about to start. Staff called Yan Wuxin back to her seat, and she reluctantly rose, scanning the local candidates waiting to take the stage. Suddenly, she gasped:
“She’s here?”
“Who?” they asked in surprise.
“Ling Zhaoren. She’s not a local candidate—she’s a daughter of imperial relatives. Royalty don’t have to take the literary and martial exams—they’re admitted directly. But why is she here? Is she taking the exam?”
Lu Jinlan frowned. “So what if she takes the stage?”
Yan Wuxin said with concern: “This girl is the daughter of Dingbei Marquis Ling Zhijing. Her mother commands a strong army, and her biological father is the Emperor’s younger brother. Her family has a profound martial arts lineage, and she’s a martial prodigy—extremely skilled and fiercely competitive. If she takes the stage, she won’t care about anyone else’s safety. If you two encounter her, be extremely careful—your lives come first.”
Lu Jinlan took a deep breath. She needed to quickly come up with a plan—she definitely did not want to die.