Chapter 8

Deng Qin was thirty-five this year. He had passed the provincial exam at sixteen, making a big splash, but for the next twenty years, it seemed the literary star had turned against him—he failed the exams year after year.

By the time he was thirty, Deng Qin gave up. He didn’t want to be a sixty-year-old perpetual examinee. Besides, how much had studying actually gotten him? Years of grueling study only led to a mere eighth-rank official, while those with connections—illiterate teenagers—could secure seventh-rank positions, barely able to keep their hats straight.

Studying? Bah! Networking is the true path to success.

For example, he first used connections to become a retainer under a Grand Secretariat scholar, and recently he encountered a benefactor. The benefactor said if he accomplished a task, he would secure him a sixth-rank official position in the capital.

A sixth-rank post! Something even a current imperial graduate would need two years of experience to obtain!

Deng Qin rubbed his hands together, not caring whether this act, if exposed, would cost him his head.

After all, how could it be exposed with a powerful benefactor protecting him?

…From this, it’s clear why Deng Qin never truly passed the exams. Forget intelligence—his social skills were a disaster. Historically, no one who cheated in the imperial exams ever fared well.

Ever since he spread word that he had exam questions, people invited him to meals almost daily. Today was the highlight: the young master of the Duke of Wu’s household finally believed him and called to meet in person.

Deng Qin dressed in his finest clothes and hurried the coachman along. But when he arrived, he froze, staring at the sun. The agreed time had passed by a quarter of an hour before he leisurely descended, wearing an air of haughty dignity.

The shop’s attendant guided him to the private room. Deng Qin pushed open the door, revealing it to be empty.

Deng Qin: “……”

This young master arrived later than me?!

Damn it—my mood, all wasted!

With a mix of frustration and resignation, Deng Qin had no choice but to sit and wait. Luckily, the shop followed proper etiquette, serving fine wine and food without asking too many questions, even sending a beautiful companion to pour drinks.

Deng Qin initially resisted drinking, but the companion cooed sweetly: “Just a sip~ Let me feed you—”

Enchanted, Deng Qin obediently drank the cup of wine offered.

After the first cup, Yin Liu froze, watching Deng Qin’s eyes glaze over. Suddenly, with a bang, his head hit the table.

Yin Liu: “……”

She quickly got up, opening a secret door behind the screen. “Sir, he’s already unconscious.”

Meng Xizhao and Li Huai had been sitting together. They stepped out, and Meng Xizhao grabbed the fan from Li Huai, using it to nudge Deng Qin’s head aside, examining his face.

Li Huai: “……”

I spent a fortune to bring this back from Goryeo!

After inspecting, Meng Xizhao returned the fan. Li Huai watched the stains on its surface with a mix of heartbreak and disgust—he wanted to hug it, but couldn’t bring himself to.

…

Meng Xizhao asked, “Is everything ready?”

Yin Liu nodded. “The pen-and-needle craftsman is waiting outside.”

Within the household, Yin Liu was Jin Zhu’s deputy, and Meng Xizhao trusted her completely. “Then let’s begin.”

The next scene was going to be… eye-opening. Meng Xizhao left with Li Huai, while Yin Liu, unfazed, opened the door, letting the pen-and-needle craftsman enter, and personally oversaw the proceedings.

Deng Qin slept straight through until the next day’s early morning.

When he woke, he first felt a tingling across his back, then a chill over his body.

Eyes wide in shock, he realized he was lying completely naked in the middle of the street. Around him, a crowd had gathered, pointing and whispering.

Deng Qin: “…………”

Where are my clothes?!

He scrambled to his feet, causing the young women and married ladies nearby to shriek and turn away in embarrassment—though a few older women, grandmothers and the like, didn’t avert their gaze.

Panicking, Deng Qin tried to cover himself, unsure what had happened. The onlookers stared with a mixture of curiosity, schadenfreude, and… sympathy?

Wait—sympathy?

Before he could ponder it further, several armed constables ran over. “Are you the one stripping in public, disgracing propriety?”

The crowd immediately judged the question as redundant—he was the only naked person, after all.

The constables themselves realized it was obvious, but they were nervous; no one had ever seen a man run naked through the street in broad daylight.

As the constables roughly tried to seize him, Deng Qin screamed in pain. Surprisingly, the crowd scolded them: “Easy! He’s a patient, you know!”

“Who would want to suffer from this illness?”

“Exactly, it’s tough on his poor old father.”

“Such a pitiful soul…”

Deng Qin’s brain was scrambled; he didn’t understand a word of what anyone was saying. After holding him down, the constables suddenly circled behind him, paused in silence, and then began handling him much more gently.

It wasn’t until he was locked in a cell that Deng Qin understood why their attitude had changed.

Across his back was a tattoo, reading: “My son Deng Qin suffers from hysteria. When an episode strikes, he may strip or speak wildly, though he is unaware of it. Anyone seeing this, please return him home for a generous reward. Address: Guocheng County, XX Village, Deng Elder’s Residence.”

Deng Qin: “…………”

He spat out a mouthful of blood.

His father had died when he was only one year old! And the Duke of Wu’s household… you’d better believe this isn’t over between us!!!

At the Imperial Secretariat, Li Huai and Meng Xizhao were sitting together playing chess.

Li Huai suddenly touched his neck, feeling a chill.

Glancing at Meng Xizhao, he saw the younger boy’s mouth curved in a satisfied smile.

Of course Meng Xizhao was pleased—now no one would believe anything Deng Qin said. With this precedent, even if another person claimed to have exam questions, everyone would hesitate, wondering if they had simply encountered another lunatic.

Hmm… that pen-and-needle craftsman was excellent; the new tattoo left no mark whatsoever. A talent like that could stay in the household and might even prove useful in the future.