Chapter Forty: Martial Instruction, Literary Competition

Li Zisheng gazed at Zhou Linqing.

“Brother Zhou, the key to treating your illness is to work from the outside in, resolving the root cause. So this matter must be approached gradually—it’s not something to be rushed.” Of course, Li Zisheng had no intention of revealing all his cards at once.

Besides, Zhou Linqing’s eyes were simmering with anger at this moment; given the right opportunity, he would undoubtedly turn against him and cause trouble.

“So, Brother Zisheng, what should my first step be? Surely you can’t keep everything to yourself and let me worry for my life in vain,” Zhou Linqing said, looking at Li Zisheng.

“It’s nothing serious, nothing serious. The first step in adjustment is through diet. Let me write a meal plan for you—follow it for about a month, and your symptoms will ease.” With that, Li Zisheng picked up his brush and wrote out the meal plan on a somewhat worn sheet of paper he had used before.

Zhou Linqing noticed that Li Zisheng didn’t bother to use a fresh sheet for him, and though he felt slighted, he could say nothing.

When he finished, Zhou Linqing glanced at the prescribed meal plan. His face darkened instantly—this was no food for ordinary people! No wonder Li Zisheng said fifty taels weren’t enough—surely not even His Majesty the Emperor ate so extravagantly.

Even so, Zhou Linqing forced a smile, assuring that he would follow the prescription faithfully and nurse himself back to health.

“Oh, and Brother Zhou, remember—no women for three months. Otherwise, all your efforts will be wasted.” Li Zisheng smiled kindly as he looked at Zhou Linqing.

Zhou Linqing’s expression grew even gloomier. Wasn’t this deliberate revenge? After all, he’d once asked Li Zisheng to write a couplet for the girls of the Red Pavilion, and now he was told to avoid women entirely.

“Damn you, Yan Ziqing. Just wait—you’ll pay for this!” seethed Zhou Linqing, storming off with Li Zisheng’s prescription in hand.

At last, peace returned to the dormitory. Li Zisheng sighed inwardly, realizing he might have drawn too much attention to himself.

Especially with Zhou Linqing. When he came seeking trouble, Li Zisheng had seen a faint thread of black fortune swirling about him. It was mysterious, but black was never a good omen—of that, Li Zisheng was certain.

To be honest, Li Zisheng didn’t really wish to save him. Yet Zhou Linqing was one of the very few whose fortune he could see directly—besides Zhang Shuling, only Zhou Linqing. Clearly, fate had tied them together, and so he decided to treat him and see what might come of it.

Another oddity: Zhou Linqing, tall and robust, shouldn’t have shown symptoms of evil energy invading his system. There were two possible causes—either a kidney ailment, which Zhou Linqing clearly lacked, or poisoning.

Poisoning fit the circumstances best, so the prescription’s first priority was detoxification, with restoration and treatment to follow.

Who, Li Zisheng wondered, wanted Zhou Linqing dead—so patiently and methodically, without haste? The black fortune swirling around Zhou Linqing was ready to burst; if he hadn’t sought Li Zisheng’s help, he’d have been as good as dead.

A sudden thought struck Li Zisheng: Could someone have deliberately sent Zhou Linqing to seek him out?

The idea wouldn’t leave him. Who would use Zhou Linqing’s life as leverage to draw close to him? Was this person an enemy or a friend?

His mind tangled in confusion, Li Zisheng could not unravel whom he might have offended or why things at Huile Academy felt so strange and out of place since his arrival.

He finally decided not to dwell on it: let trouble come as it may; he would meet it head-on.

Spring rain washed the dust from Huile, and the guest house was newly adorned with fresh willows.

Unnoticed, spring’s breath grew richer and richer. The chill wind had vanished, replaced by a gentle, warming breeze that danced with willow fluff. The small river behind the library was greener than ever, moss accentuating its banks, and the area behind had become a lush emerald carpet.

On the bluestone platform, a young man—Li Zisheng—practiced calligraphy with a brush whose tip had long since worn away. He dipped it in water and wrote on the stone’s surface.

Ever since arriving at Huile Academy, Li Zisheng had never missed his morning exercises, practicing through winter’s cold and summer’s heat.

With the March winds, every academy throughout the Tang Empire grew busy.

In the third month, after excelling in the imperial exams, scholars would ride through Chang’an, singing songs of triumph. It was every student’s dream. The main force behind the exams were the academy students; year after year, the top scorers were almost always from the Imperial Academy.

But what each academy truly competed for was not just the Emperor’s favor, but for their students to become newly minted jinshi. Producing even one such success would bring fame and honor to the academy.

Thus, to boost their students’ morale before the spring exams, every academy held its own small literary gatherings, hunting games, and various other activities.

Huile Academy, located in a military stronghold, had its own traditions: tours of the military camp and interactions with the Turks, observing their hunts as both a diversion and encouragement for the students.

Every student in the academy was eager and ready to prove themselves. Before the exams, these activities would always attract important visitors, and the academy students enjoyed connections far wider than those of unaffiliated scholars. This was why everyone strove to enter the academies.

That morning, Huile Academy announced that in two days, they would tour the military camp. Students from the Martial Academy would be allowed to train with the soldiers, and those who excelled would be awarded military merit.

This immediately stirred the Martial Academy’s students. In the flourishing Tang Empire, military merit was rare and was the key metric for evaluating an officer’s rank. With enough merit, one could soar to great heights.

Of course, this didn’t mean the Literary and Genius Academies were left out. After the military visit, a small Turkish diplomatic mission would arrive for academic exchange. Rumor had it that among the Turkish envoys was someone well-versed in poetry and literature, admired by several great scholars of the Tang.

Since Lingzhou’s main academy was busy with other affairs, the responsibility for hosting the Turks fell to its two subordinate academies: Huile as the main host, with Lingwu Academy assisting. Together, they would manage the literary exchange.

This was a battle to showcase the empire’s prestige—success was imperative. The top scorer in the exchange would receive an honorary post in the Ministry of Personnel, and if he later passed the jinshi exams, he would be granted a position of real power.

In the Tang’s examination system, even the top jinshi weren’t immediately given official posts; they had to wait for assignments. So the reward for winning this exchange was extraordinary—rich beyond compare.

Li Zisheng had long heard the news. Perhaps thanks to Zhou Linqing, life around him was peaceful, giving him time to prepare quietly for the coming literary contest.