Chapter Twelve: Drawing Lots

In the grand hall of the Tang Dynasty’s court, the Grand Mentor had not been seen for decades. Were it not for the influence and prestige of the Grand Preceptor and the Grand Guardian, many within the court would have long since sought to strike his name from the annals and appoint another in his stead.

The Grand Mentor, once a figure of great dread for the new emperor’s faction in the Eastern Capital, had been a source of apprehension since the day he won the coveted double laurels at the Lantern Festival Imperial Examinations, and then assumed command of the Imperial Academy. His pronouncements and political stances in the court, though significant, were not the main cause for concern.

Decades ago, the sword drawn in Hundred Flowers Alley was an incident so infamous that even now none among the great noble houses of the Eastern Capital would speak of it.

It was only after the Grand Mentor departed the Eastern Capital—vanishing from the world’s gaze—that the city’s powerful factions finally felt at ease.

Yet now, the sword technique of the Grand Mentor had astonishingly reappeared in the Martial Hall!

...

Li Fu sheathed his sword and walked over to Wang Quan, taking the badge from Wang’s waist. Wang had already seized another badge elsewhere, and with Li’s own token, they now had the required three.

“That’s enough, Li Fu, you are victorious.”

The commander of the Dragon Guard, expressionless and masking his inner shock, only wished for this melee to end swiftly, so he could report the outcome to his superiors.

The final result of this chaos was, to most, unsurprising: nearly all the victors hailed from the Eastern Capital’s major factions. They competed in the Lantern Festival’s examinations not for ambition or public service, but for the rewards bestowed by the royal family.

Those who remained were mostly scions of the great houses; each year, a few provincial scholars might prevail, but seldom did any break into the top three.

After this round, fewer than a hundred would advance to the next stage.

“Didn’t you tell me you’d never trained before?” Yang Zixu asked, face dark, after confirming Li Fu was unharmed.

“How should we settle the matter of you using me as your wager?” Li Fu retorted.

“Let’s just call it even.” The anger vanished from Yang Zixu’s face; after all, he knew he was at fault.

“Did you succeed in cleansing your marrow? Yet I can’t sense the faintest trace of true vitality in you,” Yang Zixu pressed.

“I suppose I did succeed, but the method my tutor taught me is… somewhat unusual,” Li Fu replied after some thought.

Yang Zixu nodded contemplatively. When he was young, he’d heard the old patriarch speak of certain esoteric methods of cultivation. These unconventional arts differed from the norm at the outset, like shortcuts on the Great Path, but eventually returned to the same ultimate truth.

...

“He’s at the Upper Celestial Origin stage?!” Yang Ning stared at the three sword marks on the pillar for a long time before speaking.

“No, only the Middle Celestial Origin,” Li Fu shook his head.

“Then you’re certain to make the top three this time!” Yang Zixu seized Li Fu by the shoulders, excitement lighting his face.

“Not necessarily. From what I know, the heirs of the Wang and Shangguan families are almost all at the Celestial Origin level. I heard Shangguan Qi of the Shangguan clan just reached the Dewdrop stage, though he’s not present at this exam. Since the Wang clan has someone here, surely one among them has reached Upper Celestial Origin,” Yang Ning remarked, glancing at Wang Han being carried off, his brows furrowed.

At that moment, after verifying the identities of those left, the chief examiner led them out to a grand martial arena outside the hall.

The winter sun slanted low; it was now the hour of Shen, and the air grew ever colder. The literary exams were ending as well, and the top three had already emerged, though the results would be announced only after the martial exams concluded. This was because not all candidates took only one exam each year. Many competed in both; if anyone achieved a top-three placement in both, the third place would be pushed to fourth. Although dual laureates were rare, they were not unheard of. Yet it had been years since anyone claimed first in both.

“How long did you take on the literary exam?” Yang Ning asked.

“I was the first to finish, but the final decision rests with the Three Excellencies. I should be in the top three.” Li Fu answered honestly, feeling a touch of luck. His tutor had always told him: your accomplishments are never solely the result of your own abilities—there is always an element of fortune. One must learn reverence.

Yang Ning nodded; he was not surprised, as when he reached the final round, only two doors remained. Apparently, Li Fu had been the first to leave the Hall of the Rising Sun.

Meanwhile, three martial stages had been erected on the square outside, evidently a late addition to the martial exams. Otherwise, the royal family and the Academy would not be building stages at this hour.

Under the corridor by the Hall of Radiant Light, many dignitaries had gathered to observe—pillars of the imperial court.

Before the matches began, lots had to be drawn. In some respects, the drawing of lots was more crucial than the duels themselves. Drawing a weaker opponent meant advancing easily; but if unlucky, one might face someone like Yang Ning—what then?

“Tianshui—He Ying, against Zhongshan Commandery—Yang Xiao.”

“Tianxian Ward—Zhang Chu, against Linyan County—Yi Qianming.”

...

Hundreds of eyes focused upon the officer drawing names at the center of the field.

...

“Palace of Celestial Plumes—Yang Zixu,” the martial officer announced, drawing the next slip. “Versus the House of a Hundred Battles—Wang Han.”

The arena fell utterly silent, a hush so deep it was almost deathly. Only after a very long moment did the candidates react, breaking into a chorus of astonished exclamations.

Wang Han of the Divine Strategies House was counted among the three greatest young talents of the Eastern Capital. He had once challenged Yang Ning and held his own for two hundred rounds. Yang Zixu, though of noble birth, was infamous for his dissolute ways—everyone knew it. At twelve, he was infamous for drinking and carousing in the House of Immortal Qin.

The exclamations were awash with complex emotions: not merely astonishment, but glee as well. Amid the cries, some voices betrayed a note of schadenfreude.

Yang Zixu glared at those gloating over his predicament, while his opponent gazed back with open disdain, which irked him greatly.

“Damn it, to look down on me like that! I’ll beat you into a pig’s head, Divine Strategies House be damned!” Yang Zixu spat on the ground.

“Do you have a chance?” Yang Ning was not especially worried; others might not know Yang Zixu’s true ability, but he did—Zixu was not much weaker than himself.

“I’m confident against their lot. I’ve faced them a few times before; it’s always the same old tricks,” Yang Zixu replied.

“Still, be careful. Wang Han has trained the Thunderclap Technique to the sixth layer. His level is not much below ours,” Yang Ning cautioned, pulling him aside to whisper further instructions.

“Was that boy beside Yang Ning the one who eliminated our third brother?” Wang Han asked coldly, eyeing Li Fu.

“Yes, third brother was injured by him. But be careful, second brother. I’ve heard the old patriarch of the Yang family has invested much effort in Yang Zixu recently. Yang Zixu has been secretly studying at the Imperial Academy this past year; the old patriarch suppressed the issue, and even the Academy turned a blind eye,” Wang Wei, the fourth of the Wang brothers, replied.

The Palace of Heavenly Strategies and the House of Divine Strategies are both directly commanded by the royal family, outside the Six Ministries. The Heavenly Strategies were established by the Emperor Taizong, while the Divine Strategies originated over two centuries ago, founded by the Empress Dowager to consolidate her rule. Seventy years ago, their reputation soared after aiding the present emperor to claim the throne, thus shaping the double-house, four-army power structure of the Great Tang.

Many in this examination hailed from these two houses’ younger generations—Yang Ning, Yang Zixu, and the three Wang brothers among them.

“So what? No matter how impressive the Imperial Academy may be, it’s still just a scholastic institution. How can it compare to our Divine Strategies House? If it were the Heavenly Strategies, perhaps I’d reconsider, but the Yang family is no match for the days of the Empress Dowager,” Wang Han sneered.