Chapter One: Prologue

Only those who strive will win; after ten years of relentless effort, Zhen Qian found himself back at his starting point. The ache in his heart was indescribable, as if he had awakened from a dream as fleeting as Nan Ke’s tale. Where there is prosperity, there is decay; where there is grandeur, there is confusion. Scenes slid through his memory like reels of film, mingling joys and sorrows he could never quite untangle.

A torrential rain during the day left the city transformed, its air cleansed to intoxicating freshness. The gloom above was swept away, replaced by a brilliant night sky: a silvery moon hung high, the Milky Way’s jewels scattered across black velvet, and the twinkling lights of thousands of homes vied with starlight for splendor.

Neon lights flickered sharply, almost painfully bright, and the patch of green in the city’s heart appeared all the more remote and lonely.

As the sun slipped beneath the horizon, Zhen Qian’s spirit sank to its lowest ebb. The red orb was swallowed whole by the curtain of night, another day scratched off the calendar. He drained the last dregs of his wine.

Night and day exchanged places; hidden stars leapt forth, shining more brilliantly as the sun fell. Like mischievous sprites of the darkness, they seemed distant yet within reach, each as powerful as the sun itself.

Night held dominion, covering the earth with its unstoppable cloak. The stars appeared, densely crowding the sky, winking playfully at all who watched, and as the earth slowly turned, the brightest star finally dropped below the horizon, leaving his heart awash in boundless melancholy.

The sun was not the only thing that shone. Stars a hundred, a thousand times brighter lurked in the night, and though hidden, they radiated heat and energy, flooding the planets whether they wished it or not.

There was no sense in complaining. Victory and defeat are eternal laws of the workplace; he had never once lamented this fact.

Some, even knowing this, acted too hastily, dreaming of leaping to the heavens only to fall into an abyss. Living so many years, he realized that what is lost always outweighs what is gained; bitterness eclipses sourness in life, and even the beautiful stars are rarely appreciated in silence.

Now, he could finally be at peace. The bustling city and restless heart could both settle and calm.

The information from the stars was cold; it had traversed millions of light-years to reach Earth. What we see is but a ghostly remnant from millennia past, like a reflection in the river of history, leaving an unexpected streak of color across the canvas of time.

No one could resist the cold starlight entering their eyes, just as the harsh truths of reality linger in memory, indelible. Who knows when they might suddenly resurface?

The wine was finished, the beauty admired; it was time to face reality.

Just yesterday afternoon, a sudden financial scam wiped away thirty million painstakingly accumulated, along with investments amounting to hundreds of millions. Years of toil vanished in minutes—how could his heart not ache?

Losing money hurts, but no one can steal the experience gained over long years. In three to five years, he would emerge from the shadow of defeat.

Countless lessons told all that everything begins in nothing, grows to abundance, then returns to nothing—like life itself, growing each day, moving ever toward death. Little truly remains.

Whether a feast for five cauldrons or a mansion with ten thousand households mattered no more. Existence itself was no longer important, nor could it be reclaimed.

Memories always carried the rot of a coffin.

People always favored the new; the old must go for the new to arrive. New things were always beautiful, whether clothes or houses, newborns or brides—the longing for newness never ceased.

A meteor streaked across the sky, dazzling and brief. Who knew what hardships it had endured? It brought hope, but swept away beautiful wishes.

Too short, and it vanished.

When all thoughts ended, Zhen Qian rose shakily. He had gained nothing, lost nothing—only started anew.

“Margesby@#￥%…”

He cursed the one who tossed rubbish atop the tower, forgetting it was his own empty bottle. He rushed forward, and a wandering ray of light warmed his gaze like a baby in a mother’s arms, lovers entwined, or the reunion of long-separated kin. Borrowing the strength of that beam, he journeyed through time and space.

In the ninth year of Tianbao in the Great Tang, much happened. Ministers petitioned to honor the Western Peak, but soon drought struck Guanzhong, and Hua Mountain suffered disaster. Yet court attention focused on the imperial concubine Yang’s defiance and her being sent home, though she soon returned to the palace, more favored than ever.

That year, An Lushan was granted the title of Prince of Dongping and made Inspector of Hebei. Also that October, a gifted scholar from Zhengding in Hengzhou traveled to the capital for the imperial examinations, and in January of the following year, he passed both Mathematics and Classics. News reached Zhengding, and the Zhen family celebrated for three days, with neighbors and gentry flocking to offer congratulations.

Zhen Qian lingered in the capital for over three months. After the Ministry of Rites finalized the rankings and sent them to the Secretariat for review, the results were published after the edict, ensuring fairness.

The Tang dynasty’s imperial examinations covered many subjects—over fifty, including Talented Scholars, Classics, Advanced Scholars, Distinguished Scholars, Law, Calligraphy, and Mathematics. Law, Mathematics, and Calligraphy were little valued; Distinguished Scholars were rarely tested. Talented Scholars were held in high regard early in Tang, then gradually faded, leaving Classics and Advanced Scholars as the main regular subjects.

Tang’s exam system followed the Sui dynasty’s model, though later generations, after Ming and Qing refinements, viewed it as crude. After Emperor Gaozong, the Advanced Scholar exam became most esteemed, with many chancellors rising through its ranks. Candidates came from two sources: students and provincial nominees. Those from the capital or prefectural schools sent to the Ministry of Personnel were called students; those who passed local exams before proceeding to the Ministry were provincial nominees, generally referred to as “recommended men.” Local exams were “preliminary,” while Ministry exams were “provincial” or “Ministry exams.” These were held in spring, hence called “Spring Examinations”; “examination hall” was the venue. Both Classics and Advanced Scholar exams began as essay tests on doctrine or current affairs.

Later, contents varied, but the core remained: Advanced Scholars emphasized poetry and essays, Classics focused on textual interpretation and written analysis. Textual interpretation involved revealing a page of a classic, covering the sides, exposing only a line, and then masking three characters for the candidate to fill in. Written analysis required brief answers on passages. Both could be mastered through diligent study, but poetry demanded literary talent.

Advanced Scholar exams were notoriously difficult, hence the saying: “Thirty old Classics scholars, fifty young Advanced Scholars.”

Zhen Qian tested for Mathematics and Classics, not overly challenging, and passing at twenty-nine was unremarkable. Yet the Zhen family valued Mathematics, not Classics, due to ancestral tradition.

Historically, the Zhen family produced many notable figures: the Tang physician Zhen Quan, Zhen Liyan, and the Northern and Southern Dynasties mathematician Zhen Luan, who authored many works. Their scholarly heritage was deep.

Zhen Qian’s passing the Mathematics exam was seen as continuing this legacy, and the family rejoiced.

In March, he was granted a ninth-rank official title and returned home to honor his ancestors.

News of Zhen Qian’s return prompted celebration, but suddenly calamity struck!

“Disaster! Zhen Dalang was thrown from his horse at the city gate!”

The whole clan was shocked. The truth soon emerged: a woman of the Meng family selling wares at the gate blocked Zhen Qian’s horse, causing it to panic; he fell and lost consciousness. The Zhen family bound the Meng girl and took her to the county court.

“Your Honor! I am wrongly accused!”

Beneath the “Upright and Honorable” plaque in the county court, a middle-aged official slammed his gavel.

“Silence! The commoner selling goods at the gate caused Zhen Dalang’s horse to panic and injure him. What grievance remains? Guards—thirty heavy blows for those who disrupt the court!”

“I am innocent!”

Two bailiffs pinned an elderly man to the ground, faces cold and grim.

“Innocent or not, thirty heavy blows first, then we’ll talk!”

Considering his age, the bailiffs showed mercy, but after thirty blows, the old man was in tears, his flesh shredded, and his voice hoarse as he spoke again.

“Your Honor, though Meng’s girl caused Zhen Dalang’s fall, the gate was crowded, not solely her fault. Please investigate thoroughly!”

The magistrate snorted, ignoring the frail protest, and turned to the renowned physician treating Zhen Qian.

“Dr. Li, how is Zhen Dalang’s condition?”

The physician, dressed in ordinary clothes, shook his head.

“His injuries are not severe; a month’s rest will suffice. But his fall injured his head, and he now speaks nonsense, likely suffering from madness due to fright. Recovery is doubtful—very difficult!”

The magistrate shook his head in regret. Zhen Qian’s talents were well regarded in Hengzhou, especially his mathematical skill, reminiscent of his forebears. Such a promising man, now insane, would likely never serve as an official again. The Zhen family’s relentless pressure gave him a headache.

“Meng old man, you heard what was said. You claim injustice. If I judge you now, you’ll surely object. Point out others involved at the scene so I can judge fairly!”

It was a ploy; Meng was speechless, unable to identify any others. He closed his eyes in resignation.

Seeing Meng silent, the magistrate struck his gavel and declared loudly:

“The evidence is clear: Meng’s girl caused Zhen Qian’s fall. As for the Zhen family’s demand that Meng sell herself to atone, that is too serious. I sentence Meng’s girl for negligent injury: she will serve as a concubine in the Zhen household, tending to Zhen Qian for life. Does anyone object?”

The Zhen family found the verdict too lenient. Could one Meng girl compensate for Zhen Qian? Even the entire Meng family could not make up for their loss.

“Your Honor, this is unjust! How can one Meng girl compensate the Zhen family’s loss?”

Meng himself was unwilling to see his daughter sent to the Zhen household as a concubine—especially to serve a madman. It was like pushing her into a fire pit.

Yet it was the best outcome. Sacrificing one girl saved the Meng family; Meng could only endure.

“Zhen Qian’s fall was caused by Meng’s girl, but it is understandable; she did not act intentionally. If you object, you may appeal to the prefecture. Court dismissed!”

Though the Zhen family was dissatisfied, they had no recourse. The incident was strange, few witnessed it, and only Meng’s girl was left to bear the blame. A weak woman could not bear much guilt; the magistrate’s judgment was impartial. For ordinary people, compensation would suffice. The magistrate had already sided with the Zhen family; appealing further might harm their reputation. Thus, the matter ended.