The Art of Deception

Proofreader/Editor: Nene Yashiro

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April 15th, The palace examination.

Madam Xiao watched as Tang Jiwei was taken away in a carriage towards the palace. She had never been this nervous in her life. Even though she didn’t expect Tang Jiwei to be the top scholar, her heart raced like a drum, and she couldn’t calm down.

Feeling anxious being at home alone, Madam Xiao decided to tidy up the house, close the courtyard gate, and head to Tang De’s inn to help out.

Tang Jiwei sat in the carriage, swaying along with strangers, stepping toward the pinnacle that countless talented scholars dreamed of.

Inside the carriage, it was silent. The usually talkative students kept their lips tightly sealed, seriously immersed in their own thoughts, as if speaking another word would deflate their spirits.

Tang Jiwei wasn’t nervous; his mind was filled with memories from his past life. After crossing the bridge over the Weihe River, he had walked this path to the court countless times. The streets and vendors were familiar to him. The owner of the steamed bun shop still called out enthusiastically, the owner of the pancake stall was still pleasantly plump and smiled at customers, and the father and daughter at the tofu pudding stall were still as popular as ever.

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This road, he had ridden through countless times, filled with youthful exuberance and ambition, almost like a dream.

Now sitting in the carriage, it felt like a fleeting dream. In the second year since his death, he was once again voluntarily stepping onto that golden throne to battle for a life that should have been comfortable and easy.

“Ugh!”

Tang Jiwei turned his head as a man sitting next to him suddenly gagged. The others in the carriage quickly covered their mouths and noses, moving away from him. If any waste spoiled their robes, it would not only be embarrassing but would also leave a bad first impression on the emperor. After ten years of hard work, they could not afford to lose everything at this moment.

“If you’re not feeling well, you should get off and take a break,” said a man sitting across from Tang Jiwei.

Tang Jiwei glanced at the man opposite him. He had a charming appearance and an elegant demeanor, but there was a hint of shrewdness in his eyes, a mere mark of a petty person.

Everyone echoed in agreement, urging the man not to push himself if he was unwell and to prioritize his health, suggesting he get off to rest and catch up later.

The man frowned, clutching his stomach and preparing to get off. Tang Jiwei grabbed him, saying, “If you get off now, there won’t be any carriage or sedan chair on the road, and if you miss the palace examination, you’ll have to wait three more years!”

“It’s nothing. I’m disturbing everyone’s mood here. I’ll get off,” the man said to Tang Jiwei with a pale smile and clasped his hands in a bow.

Tang Jiwei lifted the curtain and told the coachman, “Stop!”

The coachman’s task was to safely deliver the scholars to the palace; if he delayed their arrival, he would bear the responsibility.

“Sir, please don’t make it difficult for me. If the time is missed, I’ll lose my reward, and you’ll miss your chance to excel. I’ll just drive more slowly!”

Tang Jiwei replied, “I said to stop, so stop! Why all the nonsense? You can just drive away without waiting for us.”

With a shout from the horse, the carriage moved on.

Tang Jiwei and the man in the blue robe stood on the street, and the man shook his head with a bitter smile. “Why do you bother so much? Even if I delay the time, it’s fine; I can always come back in three years. But now, I’m causing you trouble; how can I ever repay you?”

Tang Jiwei said nothing and started walking.

“Come with me.”

Tang Jiwei found a familiar congee shop at the street corner. It looked shabby, yet it was one of the busiest stalls on several streets.

It was early morning, and not many people were there for breakfast. Only a nimble young man was at the stall.

“Two bowls of congee, the house special!” Tang Jiwei said. ^[1]congee- a traditional rice porridge that originated from Asia

“Sure, please wait a moment!” the young man replied with a smile.

The man sat opposite Tang Jiwei and clasped his hands in greeting. “I’m Tang Chenrui. Thank you, Young Master Tang, for today’s kindness. If we meet again, I will surely repay you!”

Tang Jiwei looked up and asked, “How do you know my surname is Tang?”

Tang Chenrui smiled, his face pale but his demeanor still graceful. “Who doesn’t know that Young Master Tang is a member of today’s palace examination? With talent and good looks, you are the talk of the town. I have unintentionally heard a word or two, so I hope you won’t take offense!”

“With such a reputation, I wouldn’t know how to take offense. You have good insight, Brother Tang, to guess correctly from mere rumors. The imperial examination truly harbors hidden talents,” Tang Jiwei replied.

“Gentlemen, your congee is ready, and here’s a side dish for you to enjoy!” The young man cheerfully served them.

Tang Jiwei handed a spoon to Tang Chenrui, saying, “Give it a try. This congee is best for your stomach.”

“Thank you!”

They ate in silence, both well-mannered and dignified, naturally passing through what should have been the most tense moment without a word.

After paying, Tang Chenrui was about to look around for any carriages or sedan chairs when he saw Tang Jiwei walking toward the young man at the stall.

“Xiao Lu Yuan, can I borrow your lion spirit?” Tang Jiwei asked with a smile.

The young man dropped his stirring spoon, eyes wide with surprise. “How did you know my name is Lu Yuan?”

“I guessed,” Tang Jiwei said. “If you lend me the horse, I will surely return it before noon!”

Lu Yuan, having lived in the market for many years, was not like those young masters from wealthy families who had never seen the tricks of the trade. With a round face, he put his hands on his hips and said, “No matter how you learned my name, my family only runs a small congee shop and has no lion spirit!”

Tang Chenrui was taken aback by Tang Jiwei’s actions. He never expected him to deceive a young man like this. Yet, he also felt that Tang Jiwei was not the type to be deceitful. He was torn between wanting to pull Tang Jiwei away from this embarrassing situation and joining him in his trickery, ultimately just standing there in foolish silence.

“The lion spirit was a gift from a young man who rides a tall horse and comes here every day for congee. Xiao Lu Yuan, don’t you remember?” Tang Jiwei raised an eyebrow.

Lu Yuan swallowed hard. He certainly remembered who the lion spirit was, but he absolutely could not say it out loud. Instead, he trembled and asked, “Isn’t he already dead? How do you know?”

Tang Jiwei snorted, “Didn’t you say there were no horses? Xiao Lu Yuan, you’re not being honest!”

Lu Yuan felt embarrassed and turned red. It was a young man who had given it to him many years ago when he was only ten, envious of the young man who rode past every day. One day, the young man stopped his horse, almost trampling him, but he bravely asked if he could ride once.

The image of that young man riding by with grace still lingered in his mind. He would never forget the way the young man had looked at him—without disdain or contempt.

Though he never got to ride the horse, the next day he received a little colt, which he personally named Lion Spirit, marking the beginning of his acquaintance with that young man.

“You know him, and you know me, so you must be close friends. You don’t seem like a deceitful person, so you can come with me; I’ll lend you one!” Lu Yuan said, looking down.

Tang Chenrui was astonished to find that such a thing truly existed. He followed their footsteps, filled with curiosity but also admiration. Someone who could navigate through the market and interact with all kinds of people was truly wise; he still had much to learn.

Lu Yuan handed over the reins and said, “Lion Spirit is my treasure; please treat him well. If you haven’t returned by a quarter past noon, I’ll go to the courthouse and accuse you of theft!”

Tang Jiwei smiled, giving his head a friendly pat, only to have it swatted away as the youth protested, “We’re the same age! How can you treat me like this?”

“Thank you, little Lu Yuan. Gu Zhenguan saw the good in you,” Tang Jiwei said as he mounted the horse with ease.

Lu Yuan stood rooted on the spot, his face calm, though he felt waves of emotion crashing within him. Although he had waited here for years, the person he admired, proud and powerful, had never returned.

Tang Jiwei extended a hand to Tang Chenrui below him. “Get on, or we’ll truly have to wait another three years!”

Tang Chenrui, being a scholar who had never ridden a horse, hesitated at the thought of sharing a horse ride with another man, feeling unsure where to put his hands and feet.

Lu Yuan smirked and taunted him, “If you don’t want to end up in pieces, grab his waist! A grown man, acting shy—what a disgrace to scholars everywhere!”

Tang Chenrui, chastised by a mere boy, had no choice but to comply. Secretly, he found “little Lu Yuan,” as Tang Jiwei called him, to be quite spirited.

“Hold tight, and keep your head low!” Tang Jiwei instructed.

With a snap of the reins, Lion Spirit charged forward, tossing its head as it galloped ahead with renewed energy.

Lu Yuan stood, arms crossed, watching them go. He almost felt as if he were looking at Gu Zhenguan of years past. No one could mimic that commanding arc and silhouette, something etched in his heart for over five years. Even if their faces and bodies had changed, in that fleeting moment, he could recognize it unmistakably.

“My teacher, how have you been?” Lu Yuan murmured as he gazed into the distance, a gentle smile on his face.

As they neared the palace gates, the morning check-in had already ended. The guards closed the gates, leaving Tang Jiwei and Tang Chenrui shut outside.

“Please believe us, we’re candidates for the examination!” Tang Chenrui pleaded, sweating nervously as he showed his credentials.

The guard, unmoved, shook his head, saying, “If anyone could enter the palace so easily, the emperor and the royal court would be at risk!”

Tang Chenrui grew frantic. More than his own failure, he feared he had burdened Tang Jiwei. He was filled with regret, anxiously pacing back and forth, practically paralyzed with worry.

Tang Jiwei pulled a guard aside. When the guard’s hand went to his sword, Tang Jiwei pressed it back down. The guard bristled, saying, “Are you trying to force your way in? I have the right to cut you down on the spot! Don’t you know that if you disturb the court, you could lose your head?”

Tang Jiwei handed him something. “Show this to the captain of the guards. It will explain everything.”

The guard, skeptical, nonetheless took the item inside, partly because the scuffle at the gates was causing a scene.

Tang Chenrui continued to plead with another guard, urgently trying to connect over their shared hometown and common friends, hoping that any connection might sway him.

The captain of the guards arrived, frowning as he looked over the two men. He focused on the quieter, more composed Tang Jiwei and asked, “What do you have to show me?”

Tang Jiwei placed a jade pendant in his hand, saying, “Look at it closely, but don’t make a fuss.”

The captain’s expression softened as he glanced at the jade. The quality, combined with Tang Jiwei’s confident air, led him to believe it was authentic. Recognizing a symbol similar to that worn by high-ranking officials, he ordered the gates to be opened.

Tang Chenrui breathed a sigh of relief, regaining his composure as they entered. The heavy red doors closed behind them, imposing in their magnificence. Tang Chenrui couldn’t help but shiver and look back, but he quickly averted his gaze.

“Don’t get so startled. You’ll be thrown out if you panic in front of the court and the emperor!” Tang Jiwei sighed.

Tang Chenrui felt a new admiration for Tang Jiwei, from his boldness in borrowing a horse to his quick wit in persuading the guards. Even his horsemanship was impressive. He had no idea someone of his scholarly circle could handle so much.

“What did you show the guard just now?” Tang Chenrui asked curiously.

Tang Jiwei’s mouth curled in a smirk. “That’s a secret!”

It was indeed a secret, one he had no intention of revealing. The jade pendant wasn’t one he had received from Han Zhen, but rather his own family heirloom, reputed to ward off evil. His mother had insisted he wear it, though he had tucked it away out of sight.

The captain of the guards, while familiar with the imperial insignias, didn’t recognize it clearly enough to discern any difference. Tang Jiwei’s air of mystery had done the trick, giving the pendant an air of official importance.^[2]Insignias are symbols, it could be associated with crest and logos, it symbolizes identity or achievements

Tang Chenrui frowned, feeling that despite both being accomplished scholars, the difference between him and Tang Jiwei was vast. Not only did Tang Jiwei excel in examination responses, but he was also far more skilled in deception. Was it that Tang Chenrui was failing at life, or was Tang Jiwei simply too capable at everything?

Outside the hall, Zhang Ling kept glancing around. In such a solemn and imposing place, he dared not wander. When he didn’t see Tang Jiwei outside the palace, he suggested to the official in charge of attendance to wait a moment. Yet, in a place like this, what power did a mere scholar have to sway decisions? He could only watch helplessly as the palace gates closed, feeling frustrated. He scanned the area repeatedly, hoping that Tang Jiwei’s intelligence would somehow allow him to find a way inside.

Sure enough, the tall, graceful figure approaching from a distance was none other than Tang Jiwei. Zhang Ling rushed forward to confirm and, seeing it was him, finally let out a sigh of relief.

“What’s going on with you? How could you be late at such a critical moment?” Zhang Ling began to chastise him.

Just as Tang Jiwei finished explaining, the voice of Chief Eunuch Li Sheng called out, announcing it was time for them to enter the hall.

“Don’t rush to answer. Be adaptable!” Tang Jiwei whispered a reminder, striding forward to join the line.

Zhang Ling nodded seriously, following closely behind, while Tang Chenrui scratched his head, finding it puzzling. Wouldn’t answering first draw more attention? Why did this man prefer to go against convention?

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Author’s Note: If you like this, go ahead and bookmark it! [This author looks at you very seriously!]