“Young master, young master? Wake up, the old madam is here to see you.” The servant gently reminded him, and Wen Qing sat up straight again.

Madam Wen carried a food box, frowning, “You have never been lazy, and you will definitely pass the academy exam in seven days and become a scholar. You don’t need to work so hard these days; getting sick would be bad.”

Wen Qing blinked, taking a moment before replying, “I know, mother.”

Madam Wen showed a helpless expression, opened the food box, and took out a bowl of porridge, “I just made this, it calms the mind and clears the eyes. Eat it and then go to sleep.”

“Alright.” He was probably very tired, speaking slowly, and only after looking at it did he pick up the spoon.

As soon as a spoonful of porridge entered his mouth, Wen Qing suddenly became alert, his facial features scrunched up, and he swallowed with a pained expression.

“Cough, cough, it’s so salty!” He coughed violently, pouring tea into his mouth while shouting.

Madam Wen hurriedly asked someone to bring water and a spittoon. She was not skilled in cooking, and the rare time she made porridge, it turned into such a joke, leaving her a bit at a loss whether to laugh or cry.

After this little incident, Wen Qing’s routine returned to normal, and time flew by as he studied peacefully. Soon, it was the day of the academy exam.

There was a bit of wind in the morning. Before leaving, his mother asked him to wear an extra layer, but Wen Qing was afraid of being late and thought the extra clothes would be cumbersome for writing, so he didn’t wear them.

With years of diligent study as his foundation, Wen Qing wasn’t nervous. The topic ‘Education as the theme, wind as the rhyme, compose a poem’ was exactly what he had prepared for. Apart from feeling a bit cold, there were no other obstacles.

On the day the results were posted, he became the ‘top scholar’, his name written in large characters in the first column. Wen Qing knew he could pass, but being the top scholar was unexpected. He stood there happily frozen, turned around, and saw his usually stern mother smiling with joy, unable to contain her happiness, and planning a grand banquet to thank his teacher.

Wen Qing nodded with a smile, looking around. There were those full of vigor, but more were downcast. After all, only a few made the list. Among them was a scholar with an ordinary appearance, but his exhaustion was particularly noticeable. He wore a patched coarse blue robe, with rough hands, likely helping with farm work at home besides studying. Probably he didn’t make it, as he stared blankly at the list, standing silently for a long time.

The pursuit of knowledge is so arduous, Wen Qing sighed deeply, but this feeling was quickly overshadowed by his mother’s joy. He was surrounded and taken home, receiving congratulations from classmates and neighbors, and by the time he came to his senses, it was already dark.

The fatigue of these days was pressing on him, and as he lay in bed, he thought, at last, he could rest a bit.

…

“Young master, young master? Wake up, the old madam is here to see you.” The servant gently reminded him, and Wen Qing sat up straight again, momentarily unsure of where he was.

Madam Wen carried a food box, frowning, “You have never been lazy, and you will definitely pass the academy exam in seven days and become a scholar. You don’t need to work so hard these days; getting sick would be bad.”

Wen Qing blinked, feeling a sense of déjà vu, and took a moment before replying, “Mother, I understand.”

Madam Wen showed a helpless expression, opened the food box, and took out a bowl of porridge, “I just made this, it calms the mind and clears the eyes. Eat it and then go to sleep.”

“…Alright.” Wen Qing hesitated, looking at the bowl of porridge, a bad feeling arose, and he held the spoon for a long time without moving.

“What’s wrong?” Madam Wen asked in confusion.

Wen Qing shook his head, brought the spoon to his mouth, and cautiously tasted a bit.

It was salty, as expected!

His facial features scrunched up, and he swallowed with a pained expression.

“Cough, cough, it’s still so salty!” Wen Qing coughed violently, pouring tea into his mouth while shouting.

Madam Wen hurriedly asked someone to bring water and a spittoon. She was not skilled in cooking, and the rare time she made porridge, it turned into such a joke, leaving her a bit at a loss whether to laugh or cry.

Wen Qing let the servants clean up the table, feeling increasingly heavy-hearted, as if he had experienced all of this before. But with the academy exam imminent, he had no time to think about it.

After this little incident, Wen Qing’s routine returned to normal, and time flew by as he studied peacefully. Though the doubts in his heart lingered, he focused on reviewing the exam topic from his ‘dream’, waiting for verification.

On the day of the academy exam, there was a bit of wind in the morning. Before leaving, Madam Wen wanted Wen Qing to wear an extra layer, but found he was already dressed, feeling secretly pleased.

‘Educate as the theme, wind as the rhyme, compose a poem.’

It was indeed this topic.

But he had prepared for this topic before, so it was normal to have a feeling about it in the ‘dream’. Wen Qing suppressed his discomfort and concentrated on the exam.

On the day the results were posted, as expected, he became the ‘top scholar’, his name written in large characters in the first column.

His mother was as delighted as ever, planning a grand banquet to thank his teacher.

Wen Qing nodded absentmindedly, looking around. The scholars gathered, some full of vigor, some downcast, and some weeping bitterly, only emotions visible, not faces.

Not entirely unrecognizable, a calm scholar under the list was particularly striking. His appearance was truly handsome, with sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, standing tall like bamboo or pine, completely out of place with his patched coarse blue robe, like a wealthy young master from a noble family.

Wen Qing felt he looked familiar but couldn’t recall where he had seen him.

Someone asked him, what was his rank?

He answered, didn’t make it.

Didn’t make it and still so composed?

Wen Qing was puzzled, but this confusion was quickly overshadowed by his mother’s joy. He was surrounded and taken home, receiving congratulations from classmates and neighbors, and by the time he came to his senses, it was already dark.

The fatigue and overthinking of these days pressed on him, and as he lay in bed, he thought, will there be another repetition? He thought of Yuan Hao, in these repetitions, it seemed only Yuan Hao was different. Yuan Hao… such a graceful person… why didn’t he see him the first time…

“Young master, young master? Wake up.” The servant gently reminded.

Wen Qing, eyes closed, mumbled, “Mother is here with porridge?”

“No, you’re still sleepy,” the servant’s voice was cheerful, “Today is the banquet to thank your teacher, the old madam wants you to get up early to try on clothes.”

“Oh, it’s the banquet to thank the teacher.” Wen Qing opened his eyes, the stone on his heart finally lifted, at last, things were normal, no longer trapped in… a nightmare.