Chapter 659: The Splendor of Love Shenjing

Love Shenjing, Hanzheng Street.

This street lies along Love Shenjing's north-south central axis, the mandatory official road passing through the Imperial Examination Hall and the Ministry of Rites.

The street is far wider than ordinary roads in Love Shenjing, paved with neatly laid blue stone slabs, worn smooth by countless years, gleaming with an ancient luster and radiating a solemn, weighty aura.

Hanzheng Street, the central stretch of Love Shenjing, is lined with wine houses, teahouses, inns, entertainment theaters, and courtesan houses; daily foot traffic is bustling and vibrant.

But after the palace issued an imperial decree granting the top three Rank Jinshi of this year's examination the honor of parading through the imperial street, imperial guards swiftly rode to notify all government offices.

The Zhen'an Prefecture and the Five City Military Command's yamen runners and soldiers cleared and secured the entire street.

After all, over three hundred Rank Jinshi would participate in the imperial parade—its scale was immense, and no room for error was permitted.

Today, Hanzheng Street's surface was empty, with few pedestrians; the usual congested carriages, horses, and wandering vendors had all been cleared and redirected by the authorities beforehand.

Both ends of the street were guarded by Zhen'an Prefecture runners; no carriages or horses were allowed to enter before noon.

Past the fourth hour, sunlight shone brightly, the early summer heat intense; though the sun had not yet reached its zenith, the air was already growing hot.

Yet crowds had gathered along both sides of the street—young and old, men and women, carrying children, jostling and pushing, murmuring in excitement, their eyes constantly fixed on the far end of the street.

Before the more spacious mansions, finely crafted carriages had been parked neatly at the roadside; their appearance marked them as belonging to official or wealthy families, with curtains slightly lifted, revealing glimpses of hairpins and powdered faces.

These luxurious carriages either lined the street without obstructing passage or had entered early to wait; the authorities made no effort to drive them away.

Inside one of these carriages, a delicate young maid lifted the curtain, her expression thrilled and delighted, gazing intently outside for a while.

She turned to a girl in the same carriage and said, "Miss, Fourth Young Master isn't even a top-three Rank Jinshi—you said he can't ride a horse—how will we ever spot him mixed in with all these Rank Jinshi?"

The girl, about sixteen or seventeen, was beautiful and refined, exuding an air of scholarly grace; though her attire was not lavish or bright, the fabric and craftsmanship were exquisite, suggesting she came from an official or wealthy family.

She smiled faintly and said, "I didn't come to see my little brother—if I wanted to see him, I'd just go home. Why would I ride out in a carriage just to gawk at him? He's flattered enough already."

The maid laughed. "Then Miss must have come to see the Zhuangyuan—he's the true number one of the empire, a living incarnation of the Literary Star. I'd wager most people here came just for him."

The girl scoffed. "I only came out because I was bored at home, but I'm not that dull—I didn't come to gawk at the Zhuangyuan. What's so special about him? He just got lucky."

The maid was puzzled—wasn't her mistress always saying that in literature, there's no true number one, so only the Zhuangyuan was worth admiring? Why then, on such a scorching day, would she come out if not to see him?

Still puzzled, she saw her mistress pull a scroll from the carriage, carefully unroll it, and examine it with a smile.

…

Though the sun blazed fiercely and the air burned with heat, it could not dampen the people's enthusiasm.

To ordinary townsfolk, Rank Jinshi were men of encyclopedic learning, destined for high office—figures rarely seen in daily life.

Those living in Love Shenjing, beneath the Son of Heaven's gaze, naturally understood the triennial spring examination better than outsiders.

Everyone knew that in their own counties, a Provincial Graduate Wu was already a towering figure.

Yet each spring, thousands of Provincial Graduate Wu came to Love Shenjing to take the exam, yet only a tiny fraction became Rank Jinshi—clearly, Rank Jinshi were infinitely more precious than Provincial Graduate Wu.

And the three top Rank Jinshi were the elite among elites, the pinnacle of men—in the eyes of common folk, they were truly the Literary Star descended to earth, extraordinary nobles of this world.

Nor did the townsfolk's gossip ever spare exaggeration; they always inflated their tales to draw attention, claiming the top Rank Jinshi were not only brilliant beyond measure but also possessed peerless grace and beauty.

To encounter such rarity was to absorb a touch of literary nobility—why not come and witness it?

Thus, when the authorities began clearing and sealing the route, news of the imperial parade spread like wildfire; anyone who heard the rumor and had free time rushed to see the Rank Jinshi's grand procession.

Even wealthy households and official families, whose young daughters had just entered womanhood, read poetry, and were filled with romantic yearning for literary grace, found excuses to ride out in carriages to catch a glimpse of the Zhuangyuan's splendor…

Within half an hour, the roadside inns, wine shops, teahouses, and pavilions along Hanzheng Street were packed to capacity.

The upstairs private rooms overlooking the street were completely full; even when prices were tripled, wealthy patrons who loved spectacle and didn't care for gold still rushed to reserve them, paying a hundred taels in advance.

…

In the center of Hanzheng Street stood a women's teahouse called Yashiju.

Ever since Jia Cong and Qu Qu Hongxiu opened the first women's teahouse on Xinchun Street to attract business for Xinchun, it had become wildly popular among the ladies of wealthy households.

From then on, this unusual new style of teahouse began to flourish throughout Love Shenjing.

This women's teahouse on Hanzheng Street was merely one of many imitators; from the owner to the staff, even the two burly guards at the entrance, all were women.

Yet those who regularly visited such women's teahouses were mostly the wives and daughters of wealthy merchants.

Because merchant families, unlike official clans, did not enforce strict propriety upon their women; even women like Madam Xia, though widowed, frequently went out to manage business.

But families like the Jias, with their hereditary official status—even a bold, spirited woman like Shi Shi Xiangyun never stepped outside her gate, spending her days only with family and sisters, never wandering into a women's teahouse.

Just like the girl in the carriage earlier—she was from an official family; even if bored at home and sneaking out, she stayed inside her own carriage and would never stop at a women's teahouse.

As the morning hour neared its end, word of the imperial Rank Jinshi parade spread through the city; within half an hour, Yashiju's business exploded.

Merchant wives, who usually stayed home idling, arrived en masse to gather, drink tea, and chat—tea was merely an excuse; what they truly wanted was to see the parade.

Since both patrons and owners were women, everyone understood without saying a word—no one would gossip about another.

In the past hour, the upstairs private rooms overlooking the street had become highly sought-after, fiercely reserved by wealthy merchant ladies and their daughters.

The room on the left side of the second floor had always been the best, most lavishly decorated, with the finest street view.

This room had been reserved earlier, then snatched up by someone offering triple the price—leaving the owner and guests utterly astonished.

Half an hour ago, a strikingly beautiful young lady, accompanied by a maid, entered this room and left two strong women to guard the door—her entourage was clearly grand.

Inside the private room, a fine tea and premium preserved fruits and seasonal delicacies sat on the window-side table, but Miss Xia didn't touch any of it—her eyes were fixed on the street outside.

Seeing Baochan also leaned out the window, but her interest was fading, her expression bored.

To her, what was there to see in these Rank Jinshi? Passing the exam was nothing special—why parade on horseback like that? Just a few bookworms—nothing compared to Jia Baoyu's charm…

At that moment, a murmur rose along the street below; someone shouted, "Look! There are official placards at the intersection—the Rank Jinshi are coming!"

The crowds on both sides stirred like a sudden tide, surging and ebbing; the Zhen'an Prefecture runners raised their batons to hold back the surging masses.

From shop windows, second-floor private rooms, and the raised platforms of courtesan houses, heads leaned out, gazing far down the street.

And most of those gazing faces were women…

Wealthy women with proper decorum wore veiled hats, barely revealing their faces, straining to see; bolder courtesans and dancers either faced the sun barefaced or wore heavy makeup, letting the spring breeze blow across their cheeks.

Miss Xia, watching this scene through the window, frowned slightly, muttered something under her breath—unintelligible—and then turned to gaze at the street's end herself.

…

At the entrance of Hanzheng Street, the imperial parade, authorized by decree, marched forward in grand procession.

At the front stood dozens of large Han generals, holding aloft placards reading "Silence" and "Clear the Way," their banners of five-colored embroidered dragons snapping in the wind, radiating the majestic splendor of the imperial court.

Behind them came two dozen palace eunuch musicians, playing flutes, sheng, gongs, and drums in harmonious rhythm—some thunderous and grand, others melodious and flowing, their music vast and majestic.

The top three Rank Jinshi—Zhuangyuan Zhang Zhang Wenxu, Bangyan Jia Cong, and Tanhua Chen Chen Qirui—rode tall, fine steeds, each accompanied by three imperial guards holding reins and stirrups, leading the procession.

Behind them marched three hundred Rank Jinshi in neat formation, all dressed in identical Rank Jinshi ceremonial robes, walking in step; though not perfectly synchronized, their every gesture exuded dignity and solemnity, drawing continuous cheers from the crowd.

Since the imperial parade of the top Rank Jinshi represented the court's honor, the three horses ridden by the top three were meticulously selected by the Imperial Stable—each one tall, strong, and extraordinarily majestic.

Naturally, the three riding horses should have made them stand out far more than the three hundred walking Rank Jinshi.

But Zhuangyuan Zhang Zhang Wenxu and Tanhua Chen Chen Qirui were classic scholars—weak as lambs, never riding horses, only traveling by carriage; how could they possibly handle such powerful military steeds?

Perched on their saddles, they were utterly uncomfortable; even though the horses moved slowly, they still felt dizzy from the jolting. Though imperial guards held their reins, their hands clutched the saddles tightly, as if terrified they'd fall off.

The Imperial Stable, aiming to magnify the parade's grandeur, had chosen horses too large and imposing—perhaps counterproductively.

Instead of showcasing the triumphant, radiant pride befitting top Rank Jinshi, the Zhuangyuan and Tanhua looked merely nervous and trembling…

Any fine horse possesses spirit; if the rider is skilled, the horse submits willingly.

But if the rider is inexperienced, the horse senses it, grows restless, and becomes hard to control.

The steeds ridden by Zhang Zhang Wenxu and Chen Chen Qirui were exactly this kind—despite imperial guards restraining them, the horses snorted and tossed their heads, moving with increasing agitation.

This kept the two learned scholars in constant tension; what should have been a glorious imperial parade became a prolonged torment…

In contrast, Jia Cong, at the center, came from a military noble family; in Liaodong, he had received riding instruction from Ai Li, charging into battle, slaying generals and enemies—his horsemanship was superb, and riding posed no challenge.

The horse beneath him seemed to sense a skilled rider, moving obediently and calmly.

Jia Cong held the reins loosely with one hand, lightly squeezing with his legs; the horse moved smoothly and quietly, as if walking on level ground, as if man and horse were one—there was an indescribable harmony.

!

The imperial guard leading Jia Cong's horse walked with ease, needing no effort at all; in contrast, his two companions struggled like men leading two stubborn donkeys through the market.

He couldn't help silently marveling: the Marquis of Lord Weiyuan was truly a battle-hardened general—his horsemanship was masterful. How unlike those two scholars, who turned into trembling weaklings the moment their buttocks touched a saddle…

…

When the entire imperial parade had entered Hanzheng Street, the crowds on both sides erupted in admiration and cheers—the scene was wildly lively.

The three hundred accompanying Rank Jinshi all stood tall, smiling proudly, each feeling honored beyond measure.

Yet among the countless onlookers, their eyes passed over the three hundred Rank Jinshi and converged on one point: the three top Rank Jinshi riding the steeds.

To ordinary people, imperial glory and noble rank were too distant to touch.

Only these men—who had once been commoners like themselves, risen through scholarship and examination to climb the ranks—

Were the objects of their familiarity and admiration, the only glimmer of light within their ordinary lives.

All eyes fixed on the three men on horseback, pointing, whispering, murmuring, their admiration and envy plain to see.

"Brother Wang, Zhuangyuan Zhang Zhang Wenxu was famous in Qingzhou, but confined to one region, he couldn't show his true worth. I thought once he came to Love Shenjing, he'd vanish into the crowd—but look, he's become the top scholar of the empire!"

"He's just blessed with heavenly fortune—no one else can envy that."

"Brother Wang, Zhang Zhang Wenxu is Zhuangyuan—he should be radiant and proud. But look at his tense face and pale expression—is he secretly ill at such a crucial moment?"

"Pfft, Brother Chen, your eyes are terrible. He's not ill—he's just a bookworm who never exercises, knows nothing of the Six Arts, can't even ride a horse—that's why he looks so miserable…"

…

"Second sister, look how handsome the Zhuangyuan is! The world has such a beautiful man? Look at him riding—he's like a celestial being descending!"

"Little sister, I've told you before—study more, read more. All you do is play, so clueless. Since ancient times, the left is honored—the man on the far left, with two peacock feathers on his cap, is the Zhuangyuan."

"Oh! So that gloomy-faced one's the Zhuangyuan? He looks so sour, like Mrs. Chen next door, always frowning—can't stand the sight of him."

"Little sister, you came to see the Zhuangyuan—why talk so carelessly? He's the Zhuangyuan, that's enough—why care if he frowns?"

…

"Wife, the Zhuangyuan looks uncomfortable, hunched over, frowning, clutching the saddle—like he's got a stomachache. Maybe he ate too many buns and got indigestion."

"Pah, you're just a poor, pitiful soul—when your stomach aches, you think eating steamed buns is a feast. How could an imperial scholar be as unlucky as you? Even if he can't get plain rice, he'd at least drink white rice porridge..."

"My daughter speaks sense—an imperial scholar couldn't possibly eat steamed buns. But that top-ranked scholar looks downright unimpressive; the third-place scholar, though, is sturdy and good-looking, much more pleasing to the eye."

"You've finally said something right. The second-place scholar is too handsome—he'll only attract loose women. That third-place scholar? He looks right. Solid, respectable, and he'd surely be strong enough to work the fields..."

……

In a private room on the second floor of Yashiju, Miss Xia leaned by the window, gazing far off as the imperial scholars rode down the imperial avenue in procession.

Jia Cong sat squarely in the center of the top three, riding a tall, powerful horse, clad in a brand-new, perfectly fitted scholar's ceremonial robe, advancing slowly with calm composure and peerless grace.

Miss Xia's heart swelled with joy. "Seeing Baochan, look how triumphant Cong-er is. A man should live like him."

"You say he's handsome and brilliant at books—but even his horseback riding looks right. He carries himself like a mighty general, radiating nobility. Even imperial princes in the palace couldn't match his bearing..."

Seeing Baochan, hearing her mistress go on again about Jia Cong, grew sullen and let her eyes wander restlessly down the street.

"Mistress, we spent a fortune to reserve this private room just to watch the scholars' parade, and I thought it'd be something spectacular—but it's really quite dull."

"That top scholar's face is green, like he's about to fall off his horse. The third-place scholar's a fat black lump. But you're right, Mistress—Cong-er is still the most beautiful of them all."

Miss Xia smiled triumphantly. "You've finally said something sensible. Those two are eyesores—how dare they even share the top three with Cong-er?"

"Still, having them ride alongside Cong-er isn't all bad—it only makes him look even more distinguished."

……

The imperial procession was nearing the middle of Hanzheng Street; the sun had climbed higher, its light growing fiercer and more blazing.

Jia Cong and the other two top-ranked scholars rode horses, so though they were exposed to the sun, their bodies remained relatively fresh.

Unlike the three hundred other scholars, who had walked all the way since leaving the Meridian Gate—not because the court was cruel, but because there simply weren't enough horses for them all...

Thus, by the time they reached halfway down Hanzheng Street, Jia Cong and the other two top scholars were merely damp with sweat on their foreheads.

The three hundred others, however, were all weak in the waist and aching in the legs; some even fanned themselves with the sleeves of their scholar robes, their manners growing slightly disordered.

At that moment, the curtain of a carriage parked by the roadside was lifted, revealing the beautiful face of the girl from earlier.

She gazed at the three top scholars riding past, her eyes finally settling on Jia Cong, studying him closely.

Suddenly, she remembered something, carefully set her scroll aside, and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, deftly tying it into a decorative knot.

When she lifted the curtain again, Jia Cong was just riding past. She leaned slightly out of the carriage.

"The summer heat is fierce, the street long and weary—Second Place Scholar, please wipe your sweat."

Her voice was clear and sweet, like pearls tumbling upon jade. Before the words had fully faded, she laughed and flung the handkerchief toward Jia Cong.

The handkerchief, light as down, could never have been thrown far—but the girl was clever. She had tied it into a knot to concentrate its weight, tossed it high into the air, where it spun gracefully and landed perfectly before Jia Cong's horse.

Jia Cong, trained in martial arts since childhood, moved with far greater agility than an ordinary man. He bent slightly and caught the handkerchief neatly in his hand.

It was a delicate, lake-blue embroidered handkerchief—clearly a woman's personal item.

Jia Cong turned to look. The girl was watching him, her face lovely, her eyes like autumn waters, bright as polished lacquer, clear and untainted, bold and unashamed—not the timid, shy demeanor of an ordinary maiden.

Jia Cong smiled. "Thank you, Miss, for the handkerchief."

He casually wiped his forehead with it. The onlookers burst into good-natured laughter. The girl didn't mind—she smiled and lowered the curtain, vanishing from view.

But the imperial procession could not stop. Jia Cong could not return the handkerchief then and there, so he slipped it into his bosom.

Across the street, in the second-floor private room of Yashiju, Miss Xia had just witnessed this scene through the window. Her face flushed red with rage. "Where did this wanton hussy come from, throwing herself at Cong-er in broad daylight? How shameless!"