Whoever can strike me hard will be rewarded handsomely.

Qin Ji was only so-so and reluctantly accepted the Poison Master's "birthday gift".

His gaze swept across the desk and landed on the article beside it. Having previously listened to Jiang Jibai's lecture with Fang Yanqing, Qin Ji immediately recognized his second senior brother's handwriting.

Is this the imperial examination question and the essay that Fang Yanqing recited from memory?

Is the teacher helping him with his grading?

Qin Ji's eyes flashed. He hadn't expected that the examination papers hadn't even reached him yet, but he had already seen Fang Yanqing's papers written by Jiang Jibai.

"How is Fang Yanqing's writing?"

Jiang Jibai had to get used to the younger disciple calling his two senior brothers by their first names at every turn, and no matter how he tried to correct him, he couldn't get rid of it. He casually took the folding fan from the boy's hand and tapped him on the back as a reminder, "I was just about to take a closer look when some brat scared me with his ghostly antics."

"You're being disrespectful again, calling your senior brother by his full name?"

Qin Ji never expected that Jiang Jibai would find a new use for the gift he had just received and hadn't even had a chance to warm up.

Is this a gift? This is clearly a torture device!

He had reason to believe that Jiang Jibai's purpose in giving him the folding fan was not pure!

Qin Ji kneaded the dough with one hand and snatched the folding fan back with the other. "Is that how you use a folding fan, you poison master!"

Jiang Jibai touched his nose. "Just doing it on the spur of the moment."

Before his young disciple could react angrily, Jiang Jibai laid Fang Yanqing's article out on his desk again and began to read it quickly.

Qin Ji originally wanted to complain about Jiang Jibai's pretense of being busy, but his gaze shifted and he was ultimately drawn to Fang Yanqing's article.

He wanted to see just how capable this cheap second senior brother really was, whether he could pass the exam or not, and whether he would tarnish the reputation of the Poison Master and the Great Confucian Scholar.

After silently watching the Poison Master for a while, Qin Ji began to pick at the corner of the table.

The rhythmic "sizzle, sizzle" sound stimulated Jiang Jibai's eardrums.

Jiang Jibai looked up at his unruly junior disciple and successfully made the disciple put his hand away.

"How's your senior brother's article?"

The boy, with a sour face, said, "It's just so-so..."

The junior disciple is always very blunt in his comments on articles he doesn't like, and he doesn't get along well with the second disciple. The fact that he gave it a "so-so" rating clearly shows that the article is actually quite good, he's just not being honest.

Jiang Jibai picked up his pen and circled several places in the article, his pen tip tracing the most ingenious arguments and unique insights.

"Your second senior brother's essay, although not as unconventional or sharp as yours, is still substantial and perfectly measured. He uses historical allusions to satirize the present without offending the court, and he is dignified without being obsequious. He doesn't excessively flatter the court or the examiners, nor does he try to be unconventional or attract attention. Instead, he showcases his talent and value to the fullest, making him impossible for any examiner to ignore. His ranking will probably be even higher than Jiang Liu's back then."

Although he had to admit that Jiang Jibai had a point, Qin Ji was still very unhappy to hear the Poison Master give such a high evaluation to his cheap second senior brother.

He picked at his ear: "The Poison Master's eyes are filled with shit, is that all? Dismissed! Dismissed!"

Jiang Jibai looked at his young disciple's "I don't want to listen, I don't want to listen, Fang Yanqing's article is nothing" attitude, and his smile deepened slightly. He put the article aside, got up and poured himself a cup of tea.

It wasn't until the tea was handed to Qin Ji that he realized it was meant for him.

The boy asked in a muffled voice, "What do you mean?"

Jiang Jibai couldn't help but chuckle: "Drink more water to mask the vinegar smell."

You, Jiang Jibai, how dare you laugh at me?

A thought flashed through Qin Ji's mind, and evil thoughts arose within him. He put down his tea, grabbed a brush, and dipped it in ink.

Jiang Jibai thought his young disciple was going to write something, so he looked over with great interest.

Qin Ji used the speed of a hidden weapon, and the brush flew past swiftly.

Jiang Jibai only felt a blur before his eyes and a slight dampness on his forehead. With a few quick strokes, the brush was slammed onto the desk with a "smack," and the young man in front of him suddenly retreated three feet.

The boy smiled mischievously at him.

Jiang Jibai reached up and touched his forehead; sure enough, his fingertips were stained with ink.

That naughty kid, I wonder what he drew on his forehead.

Judging from his expression, nothing good could come of it.

Jiang Jibai didn't rush to wipe it. He strolled leisurely to the copper basin stand and looked into the basin.

The character "瞎" (blind) was clearly visible on his forehead. He had touched it before, so the strokes were a little blurry, but it didn't affect its legibility.

Jiang Jibai calmly wiped the words off his forehead with a cloth, and walked with a smile to the vase on the antique shelf, where he pulled out a feather duster.

As if he had anticipated this, Qin Ji lightly touched the ground with his foot, burst out of the door, and leaped onto the roof. His foot "inadvertently" landed on the roof, and a tile slipped and shattered into pieces.

He held his breath and waited for a long time, but Jiang Jibai did not come out. The provocation he had prepared for so long had nowhere to be used.

Qin Ji peered down, his eyes meeting Jiang Jibai's, who had just stepped under the eaves.

Jiang Jibai, holding a feather duster, smiled politely and said, "Get down."

His Majesty the Emperor refuses to accept blessings on occasions past his birthday.

Qin Ji flicked his folding fan with a "whoosh," pointing the fan face at Jiang Jibai, pointing at the empty hands and unadorned waist of "Jiang Xiaoru" on it, and laughed so hard that his eyes disappeared: "A great scholar's belly can hold a boat."

Jiang Jibai: "..."

Under the bright moon, a boy squats on the rooftop, while a scholar stands under the eaves; one is smug, the other helpless.

Like a vivid painting, the master and apprentice "coincidentally" echo the scene on the folding fan.

The moonlight, like water, spilled across the courtyard and the eaves, flowing slowly into the boy's unfathomable eyes.

To use one's intentions to scheme against the unintentional.

Teacher, I want to turn these beautiful moments into paintings and engrave them in your memory.

I want you; I can't let go of you, I can't forget you.

I want you to feel a pang of tenderness whenever you think back to today, to the joy and warmth I brought you, no matter what happens in the future.

I am not only a liar, but also utterly despicable.

Jiang Jibai looked at the little disciple on the roof, put down the feather duster in his hand, and smiled as he reached out his hand again: "Alright, you've had enough fun. Don't fall, come down."

Qin Ji, as if possessed, reached out his hand to Jiang Jibai and jumped off the roof.

Jiang Jibai was bumped into by the boy, and with one hand he pressed down on the boy's back, and his Iron Sand Palm struck a certain spot without any mercy.

Qin Ji was jolted awake by the pain and jumped three feet high, only to be held tightly in Jiang Jibai's arms by his merciless iron hand.

Alas, like teacher, like student.

The Poison Master is a despicable liar too!!!

...

The spring chill lingered as His Majesty the Emperor returned to the palace, fanning himself with a folding fan.

Fu Lu helped His Majesty change his clothes and go to bed.

Qin Ji ate a bit too much for dinner and couldn't sleep. He sat cross-legged on the dragon bed, fanning himself and calculating the day's gains.

The young eunuch serving nearby couldn't help but mutter to himself, "A sudden cold snap in spring, a sudden cold snap in spring. It was quite chilly at night, so why is His Majesty fanning himself? Goodness, could it be that the Emperor truly has dragon energy protecting him?"

"Achoo—" The little eunuch couldn't help but sneeze, and was so frightened that he knelt down on the ground with a thud.

Fu Lu tapped the young eunuch on the head with his whisk: "You filthy thing, get out of here! Can you bear the responsibility of passing on your illness to His Majesty?"

The little eunuch scrambled away.

Fu Lu had eyes that looked down at his nose and nose that looked down at his heart. He didn't have this when he left the palace, but when he returned, he never took his fan off his hand.

The origin of this fan...

"Your Majesty," Fu Lu said with a smile, "this fan is truly extraordinary. The painting on the fan surface is vivid and exquisite; it's clear that it was painted with great care."

"That old fox!" Qin Ji snapped his fan shut, tapped Fu Lu on the head, and laughed, "What do you know about painting!"

Fu Lu smiled broadly: "This servant may not understand painting, but I understand people's hearts. This fan, whether in terms of material or the content of the painting, must have been made with great care. Just like the shadow puppet show prepared by Young Masters Bian and Shang, it was not prepared casually, but rather with the sentiment behind it."

...

First update delivered! Goal achieved! The activity continues. Second update should be after midnight, so please check back tomorrow morning. Mwah!