ITVCFITB CHAPTER 98

 Chapter 98 – A Tough Job, This Chief Examiner

For most people it’s “in a group of three, one is my teacher.” For Li Mingjin it’s “in a group of three, one is my spouse.”

He’d neglected to tell Luo Shuyu about the Fourth Prince’s simmering chemistry with Zhou’s Second Prince. Who could’ve guessed Zhou Er was still so smitten he’d risk slipping into Great Xia’s capital, again and again, no less?

“He didn’t come for Shen Mingyun?” Luo Shuyu blinked. He hadn’t followed the gossip while tending the baby, but this wasn’t a minor tidbit; this was headline scandal.

The Fourth Prince and Zhou Er, of all pairings, what a mess.

After the trio dispersed, Luo Shuyu and Li Mingjin stepped out of the clothing shop and found a teahouse to sit. Li Mingjin laid out the backstory.

“It goes back to when Zhou Er and Fourth teamed up against the Yan clan,” he said.

“Didn’t they just strike a deal? How’d they end up together?” Luo Shuyu asked.

“Because after that deal, Zhou Er lingered in camp as Fourth’s ‘advisor.’ They grated on each other at first, thanks to Shen Mingyun, then one night they fell into a mountain cave. Clothes soaked. Bitter cold. They, uh, huddled for warmth. Zhou Er doesn’t fancy women or gongs; he likes men. Sparks flew. Things… happened.”

“You say that like you were there,” Luo Shuyu drawled.

“Shadow Eight was,” Li Mingjin coughed into his tea. “He saw it.”

“Is Shadow Eight the same person who ‘finds’ you those spicy storybooks?” Luo Shuyu smiled.

“Anyway, we’re talking about Fourth and Zhou Er,” Li Mingjin said, staring resolutely out the window.

“Mm. Continue.”

“After that, they avoided each other for a while. But remember the woman carrying Fourth’s child?” Li Mingjin asked.

“The one he eliminated to keep the secret from Shen Mingyun?” Luo Shuyu nodded.

“Zhou Er sent a letter ‘tie up loose ends.’ Birds of a feather. Someone called it being ‘soulmates.’”

“Soulmates in ruthlessness,” Luo Shuyu said lightly. “Same royal blood, same methods. One look and they know each other’s thoughts. Call it whatever you want, it fits.”

“They’re practically well matched. All that’s missing is a wedding,” Li Mingjin quipped.

“Don’t get carried away. There’s still Shen Mingyun,” Luo Shuyu said. “Though… he’s the last to notice anything.”

Which made Luo Shuyu want to laugh. Once upon a time Shen Mingyun flitted from man to man; now his “husband” and his “best friend” were flitting with each other. When he found out… oof.

“We should let him see it with his own eyes,” Luo Shuyu mused. “No more hearsay.”

“Then we need the right opportunity,” Li Mingjin agreed.

They shelved the gossip, no need to let tawdry drama ruin a pleasant day out. After strolling the streets, Li Mingjin took Luo Shuyu to the racecourse. Spring wind still bit, but green tips peeked from branches, life returning everywhere.

On the ride home, Li Mingjin said, “When Chongchong’s a bit older, we’ll take him to see the world.”

“Of course. Broaden his horizons; teach him the bigger picture,” Luo Shuyu said.

Spring Examinations were upon them. The capital filled with scholars, now quiet and focused, no more wine-fueled debates in the taverns. Li Mingjin, newly appointed chief examiner, turned his eyes from Fourth & Zhou Er to the exams.

Many officials still grumbled about a general overseeing the civil exams, but after the Yan faction’s collapse, almost all leverage sat with the emperor. With old General Wei standing behind the throne and with his sons having served under Li Mingjin in Guzhou, few dared push back.

Unlike the Fourth Prince, who loved “image management,” Li Mingjin didn’t stage-manage anything. He’d show up on day one, announce the rules, open the exam, done. The rest he handled quietly: scouting talent, not for flair but for fit. If someone was already a Fourth Prince favorite, he passed. He wanted people with clear eyes and steady hands, maybe not top scorers, but each with a specialty.

One candidate ran a family press, books and printing. Another had failed the exams for ten years but had a nose for cases, excellent at investigation and judgment. Others, too, each with their own strengths.

When the first session began, Li Mingjin had the regulations read, then waved an unceremonious, “Begin.” He stayed. Sat. Drank tea. Wandered the aisles to glance at essays. He deployed his personal guards to watch the halls, not just posture: vigilance.

They caught cheaters on day one and tossed them out without ceremony, two of them Fourth’s handpicked “talents.” Li Mingjin snorted inwardly. “Cheat your way into office? Pass.”

The stern reputation stuck fast. Even the exam officials who had sneered at his appointment kept their mouths shut. The Third Prince’s presence, his battlefield chill, made backs straighten and hands steady.

Day two, he showed up again.

Day three, again.

Three sessions spanning nine days, he never missed a morning.

By the end, scholars treated him like a lodestar (a guiding figure). If someone collapsed, guards whisked them to a treatment corner, and time permitting, they could return and continue. The contingency planning was solid. Thus, respect grew.

People realized they knew little beyond “he’s good at war.” Suddenly there was quiet admiration: he didn’t bluster, he worked, and he kept the place fair.

When the nine-day exam ended, the tavern talk shifted from essay topics to the Third Prince, with the Fourth’s scholarly glow… dimming.

Then scandal. One of the cheaters expelled on day one was found hanged at home.

Noise erupted: accusations that the chief examiner had abused power; that expulsion humiliated a poor scholar; that “a military man” had no right to run a civil exam.

Luo Shuyu frowned. “It looks like a spontaneous outcry, but it isn’t. The day before he ‘killed himself,’ he was drinking and carousing in a brothel and even stayed the night. Conveniently inspired to die by afternoon? This smells like murder.”

Strategist Chen Rong nodded. “I’ve sent for an autopsy. We’ll have results soon.”

Li Mingjin wasn’t rattled. “No need to guess whose camp stirred this.”

The results arrived before the rumor mill boiled over: murder, not suicide, complete reasoning attached. Within three days the killer was arrested: the victim’s “good brother,” who’d killed for money and fled, only to be caught.

It helped that one of the exam candidates, yes, the very investigator Li Mingjin had an eye on, had a reputation back home for solving cases and weighed in publicly. His analysis carried more trust than a magistrate’s, and just like that, the storm broke.

The emperor heard and, over a casual meal, let slip why he’d indulged Li Mingjin’s zeal: “He wants to set an example for his son.” The line spread like wildfire. In alley and courtyard, wives poked their husbands’ ribs: “See the Third Prince? Already being a model father for a newborn. You should be a role model too, work harder and get promoted!”

When this reached Luo Shuyu, he laughed until his stomach hurt then paid the price by being “pressed” into making baby number two.

The dust settled, and Li Mingjin stepped further into public favor. The Fourth Prince fumed. A perfect smear had backfired into the image of a strict, upright chief examiner.

“Wasted piece,” he muttered. “What rotten luck, what sort of candidate solves crimes?”

He nearly punched the bedpost. A guard in plain clothes murmured, “Best not, Your Highness. Stress will thin your hair further.”

The Fourth Prince: “…” Curse that hairline. Why was his Third Brother’s mane still so lush?

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Author’s Note:

【Fill-in-the-blank Mini-Scene: please complete Luo Shuyu’s reply with at least 50 words.】

Third Prince: Darling, today I’m your studious half-brother and you’re my hopelessly bad-at-school younger brother. You fell for me, but I don’t love you. To win me over, you study until you’re top of the class.

Luo Shuyu: ___________

Third Prince: …

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