I'll steal Gao Qiu's life and lead the Song Dynasty to prosperity.

In mid-May, the days are short. Just after dawn, a long queue had already formed in front of the Zhigong Hall of the Imperial Academy.

Today is the day of the private examination. Three hundred students from the outer dormitory, plus some from the inner and upper dormitories, nearly four hundred people, entered the venue in order.

The central tables and chairs in the hall had been removed, and rows of examination desks had been set up, each four feet apart. Blank exam papers and draft paper were prepared on the desks, ready for the questions to be distributed.

Zhao Mingcheng found his seat, which was the third row on the east side of the hall.

The location was good, with plenty of light. He put down the examination basket, took out his writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, and arranged them neatly.

In particular, the Southern Tang She inkstone given to him by Prince Duan was carefully placed on the corner of his desk.

The bluish-green stone gleamed in the morning light, and the cloud and water patterns were carved in a simple and smooth style, making it clear to anyone who saw it that it was no ordinary piece.

Zhao Mingcheng didn't use this inkstone to show off; it was simply because it was genuinely useful, much better than the one he brought from home.

Several classmates passing by couldn't help but take a second look, and some whispered among themselves:

"See that inkstone, Brother Zhao... it's quite exquisite."

"It's not just unique, look at the color of the stone, the carving, it's probably an antique from a previous dynasty."

"Tsk tsk... As expected of someone from a family with a strong scholarly tradition, even their writing implements are so exquisite."

Zhao Mingcheng seemed not to hear, and was taking out the brushes one by one, soaking them in water, his movements unhurried and unhurried.

Not far away, behind another examination desk, Wang Yuan coldly watched this side.

Wang Yuan is the son of Wang Zudao, the Left Censor. He is twenty years old this year and is considered a figure in the upper quarters.

He boasted of his noble family background, solid scholarship, and particular expertise in classical texts, and was often praised by scholars.

But for the past two weeks, Zhao Mingcheng has stolen all the limelight.

At the previous rally, Zhao Mingcheng stole the show.

A few days ago, he brazenly took leave to attend an appointment at the Prince's mansion, and today he even paraded around in the city with this conspicuous inkstone.

"Hmph, a petty person who has gained power."

Wang Yuan snorted, not loudly, but loud enough for several familiar classmates nearby to hear.

"Brother Wang, be careful what you say," someone whispered. "Zhao Mingcheng is now favored by Prince Duan; don't cause trouble."

"So what? He's just a sycophant who climbs the social ladder by clinging to the imperial family." Wang Yuan said toughly, but he felt even more bitter inside.

He did want to curry favor with the imperial family.

But his father, Wang Zudao, was an official who had to uphold his principles, unlike Zhao Mingcheng's father, Zhao Tingzhi, who was adept at navigating both sides.

He couldn't compete with Zhao Mingcheng on his own.

Even his father couldn't compete with Zhao Tingzhi.

Wang Yuan stared at the She inkstone, finding it increasingly irritating. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

With so many people and so much activity in the exam room, it's perfectly normal for some "accidents" to happen.

......

By the beginning of Chen Shi (7-9 AM), most of the students had arrived.

The room gradually quieted down, with only the occasional cough and the rustling of pens and paper being put together.

Several doctoral candidates and academic officers were already in place at the front, checking the seals on the exam paper bags.

Zhao Mingcheng moved the inkstone further onto the desk, took out a water bowl, and prepared to grind the ink. Just then, a figure walked past his desk.

It was Wang Yuan.

As he passed Zhao Mingcheng's desk, he deliberately stumbled, his body tilting sharply towards the desk, his right elbow perfectly positioned.

It crashed into that conspicuous She inkstone!

This was Wang Yuan's plan.

If the impact were to be solid, the inkstone would at best tip over, staining the exam paper with ink; at worst, it would shatter upon impact, destroying the inkstone.

More importantly, with the exam approaching, the damaged tools would inevitably throw Zhao Mingcheng into a state of mental turmoil.

In that split second, Zhao Mingcheng made his move.

Over the past two weeks, he has practiced Cuju (ancient Chinese football) diligently every day, and the results have been remarkable. His reaction speed and coordination far surpass those of ordinary scholars.

Almost the instant Wang Yuan moved, he sensed something was wrong—the stagger was too fake, and the angle of the tilt was too precise.

He didn't try to stop them, nor did he have time to do so.

His left hand shot out like lightning, not to push towards Wang Yuan, but to press firmly on the inkstone and then sweep it across the table.

The inkstone slid half a foot across the smooth tabletop, narrowly avoiding the impact.

At the same time, Zhao Mingcheng raised his right hand, seemingly to support Wang Yuan, but in reality, he was supporting and guiding him at the elbow.

It uses skillful force, achieving great results with minimal effort.

Wang Yuan had been deliberately trying to lose his balance, but this force caused him to lose his balance completely.

"oops!"

He cried out in surprise and stumbled forward, landing awkwardly on the empty seat next to Zhao Mingcheng.

"Whoosh—"

The person fell flat on their backside in a "wild goose landing on the sand" style.

All eyes were instantly drawn to it. A suppressed gasp and whispers rose from the hall.

The examination room fell silent for a moment, then erupted into a cacophony of noise.

"What's going on?!"

"Who fell?"

"It's Wang Yuan! He just bumped into Zhao Mingcheng's table!"

The two proctors, who had been speaking in hushed tones in front of the podium, immediately looked up upon hearing the noise, their brows furrowing.

The older one, surnamed Zheng, was a professor at the Imperial Academy and was known for his upright character. He immediately shouted sternly:

"What's all this noise about inside the examination hall?!"

Everyone fell silent, but all eyes were fixed on the mess.

Wang Yuan landed face-first on the empty seat, feeling dizzy and disoriented. His cheek slapped against the edge of the table, stinging painfully.

He struggled to his feet, his purple robe stained with dust, his hair disheveled, his face flushed and pale with shame and anger, and he pointed at Zhao Mingcheng, about to start cursing.

"Zhao Mingcheng! You—"

"Brother Wang."

Zhao Mingcheng spoke before him, his voice clear and calm, yet with a penetrating quality that ensured everyone could hear him.

"Warming up before the exam is a good idea, but if you use too much force and hurt yourself, it's not a good thing."

Zhao Mingcheng stood up, first bowing to the two academic officials, then turned to Wang Yuan, his tone still calm, but his words clear:

"Fortunately, this inkstone is unharmed. It was personally bestowed by His Highness Prince Duan, who instructed me to use it to write down my essays on imperial policy and to answer questions about practical matters of the court. If it were damaged due to my brother's carelessness..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the entire room before finally settling on Wang Yuan's pale face.

"Mingcheng's personal matter is minor, but he damaged the gifts bestowed by His Highness Prince Duan and was unable to present a solution to the court. Who will bear the blame for this?"

The moment the words left his mouth, the room fell into a deathly silence.

The words "bestowed by His Highness Prince Duan" were like a boulder thrown into the water, creating not ripples, but raging waves.

Wang Yuan froze, his hand pointing at Zhao Mingcheng hovering in mid-air, trembling slightly.

The color drained from his face instantly, his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.

A gift from Prince Duan?

That inkstone... was actually given to me by Prince Duan?

Wang Yuan only noticed that the inkstone was extraordinary and wanted to annoy Zhao Mingcheng and deflate his arrogance. He never expected that it had such a background.

Disrespecting the prince or damaging gifts given by the prince.

Let's not even talk about that crime.

Even his father, Wang Zudao, couldn't handle it!

The two instructors' expressions also changed.

Dr. Zheng strode down from the podium, first glancing at the intact She inkstone on Zhao Mingcheng's desk, then staring at Wang Yuan, whose face was ashen, and said sternly.

"Wang Yuan! Your behavior in the examination hall is unbecoming; you've offended your classmates! What kind of conduct is this?!"

Wang Yuan snapped out of his daze, finally managing to find his tongue again, and stammered.

"Scholar, scholar, the student, the student misbehaved..."

"An accident?" Dr. Zheng scoffed.

"To prevent any major mistakes from happening, return to your seats immediately! If you continue to disrupt the examination, you will be expelled immediately, and your performance in this private examination will be graded as inferior!"

This is already an extremely severe punishment.

Wang Yuan trembled all over and dared not argue any further. He scrambled to his feet, not even bothering to brush the dust off his robes, and with his head down and shoulders hunched, he fled back to his seat as if escaping.

Wherever he went, his classmates turned their heads to look.

His eyes held disdain, relief, mockery, and a touch of melancholy, like a rabbit mourning the death of a fox.

Dr. Zheng then looked at Zhao Mingcheng, his tone softening somewhat.

"Zhao Mingcheng, are you alright? Are your inkstone and writing implements damaged?"

"Thank you for your concern, Academician. I am well." Zhao Mingcheng bowed, his posture composed.

"Hmm." Dr. Zheng nodded, then scanned the room and raised his voice, "Everyone sit down! Anyone whispering or looking around again will be treated as having cheated!"

In the brief moment before the questions were given out, the Zhigong Hall was unusually quiet.

But whispers flowed in the shadows.

"Did you hear that? That inkstone was personally bestowed by Prince Duan..."

"Wang Yuan is probably in big trouble now."

"Zhao Mingcheng is incredibly skilled. His movements—supporting the inkstone and leading the man—were clean and efficient, like that of a trained martial artist."

"Zhao Mingcheng plays Cuju (ancient Chinese football) every day, so he's very skilled. It's not surprising that he showed off those moves just now."

"I think Wang Yuan is finished. If word gets out that he behaved improperly in the examination hall and offended the gift given to him by Prince Duan... His father will probably break his legs when he gets back."

"Serves him right! He's always been arrogant and looks down on everyone, but he finally got his comeuppance today."

These words drifted into Wang Yuan's ears, and he sat in his seat, his hand holding the pen trembling.

It wasn't anger, it was fear.

What would his father's reaction be if he knew that he almost dropped the inkstone given to him by Prince Duan in the examination room?

And then there were the looks of those classmates—disdain, ridicule, and schadenfreude.

He suddenly looked up at Zhao Mingcheng.

Zhao Mingcheng sat upright with his back straight, his profile appearing calm and focused in the morning light.

His movements as he ground the ink were steady, round and round, the ink stick rubbing against the inkstone making a uniform rustling sound, exuding an indescribable composure.

He didn't even glance at Wang Yuan.

This gesture is more humiliating than any words.

Zhao Mingcheng ground the ink, smoothed the brush on the edge of the inkstone, tested the ink's density, and nodded in satisfaction.

The inkstone given by Prince Duan was indeed a fine item.

The stone is firm and smooth, produces ink quickly, and the ink is dark and glossy.

No wonder it is said that "She inkstones are good for both writing and calligraphy."

Although the incident just now was unexpected by Zhao Mingcheng, it was also a good opportunity to establish his authority.

Wang Yuan, that clown, was bound to show up sooner or later; it's better to nip him in the bud.

He originally didn't want to be so high-profile, but since the other party had come knocking on his door, he didn't mind taking the opportunity to make an example of them.

The title of Prince Duan should be used when necessary.

As for whether it will appear as bullying others?

Zhao Mingcheng didn't care.

The path he is to take will inevitably involve leveraging existing forces, but these forces must be leveraged skillfully and legitimately.

"Thump—"

The bell rang to signal the start of the exam.

Dr. Zheng, the chief examiner, stood up, took a roll of yellow paper from a sealed lacquer box, and announced in a loud voice:

"In May of the second year of the Yuanfu era, the Imperial Academy held a private examination. The examination questions are now being unsealed—"