Gu Hanzhou knew nothing of this.
He was immersed in the joy of his impending fame.
The essay had been carefully recopied, polished in several places, and embellished with some ornate phrasing—it looked even more flawless now.
He could already picture the scene at the Imperial Academy’s final evaluation: he would take the stage to present his essay, receive thunderous applause, and the chief examiner would ask with excitement where he had studied. He would humbly reply, “Your student is dull-witted—I merely happened upon some insights…”
Then his reputation would spread, he would pass the spring imperial examinations, succeed in the palace exam, be appointed to the Hanlin Academy…
Just thinking about it made his blood boil.
As for Lin Shuying?
Just a farming girl.
Even if she discovered her essay was stolen, what could she do?
If she made a scene, it would only embarrass the Lin family. Lin Huaizhou, a man who valued face so highly, would surely suppress it.
And even if—in the worst case—she spoke up, who would believe an essay written by a woman?
Everyone would just assume she had stolen a peek at his work.
The more Gu Hanzhou thought about it, the more secure he felt. In high spirits, he broke his usual habit and ordered a plate of braised pork for dinner.
“Cousin has a good appetite today,” Lin Shuying said with a smile, sitting across from him.
“Studying drains the mind—I need to replenish myself,” Gu Hanzhou replied casually. “By the way, Shuying, I’ve been invited to the Imperial Academy. I’ll be staying in the city for two days.”
“Will you be participating in the final evaluation of the assembly?” Lin Shuying’s gaze cooled, though her face showed none of it. Instead, she feigned surprise. “Cousin, will you be taking the stage to debate?”
“Hardly a debate—just some humble thoughts I’d like to share and discuss with fellow scholars.” Gu Hanzhou spoke modestly, but his eyes gleamed with pride.
“Then I wish you great success, Cousin.” Lin Shuying raised her teacup with a faint smile. “Tea in place of wine—a toast to you.”
Gu Hanzhou quickly raised his cup: “Thank you for your kind words, Shuying.”
Both harbored their own thoughts, but on the surface, all was harmony.
— —
After the meal, Lin Shuying returned to her room, where Wei Fuyu and A-Gua were already waiting.
“Shuying, are you really going through with this?” Wei Fuyu still found it hard to believe. “That’s the Imperial Academy! It’ll be full of scholars! And you’re a young lady…”
“That’s why I’m wearing men’s clothes.” Lin Shuying spread out the outfit Xiao Shengrui had sent.
It was a moon-white scholar’s robe—plain in material but finely made, perfect for a youth of her age. She changed into it, tied her hair up in a man’s bun, and secured it with a cloth band.
Looking in the mirror, she really did resemble a handsome young scholar.
“Do I look the part?” she asked, turning around.
Wei Fuyu circled her once, marveling: “You do! You really do! It’s just… your chest is a bit flat.”
Lin Shuying shot her a look: “It was never big to begin with.”
“But you’ll need to change your walk.” Wei Fuyu rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Women take small steps; men stride. Come on, I’ll teach you.”
She led Lin Shuying around the room a few times, correcting her posture.
A-Gua watched from the side, unable to hold back a laugh: “Miss, dressed as a man, you’re even more handsome than the Third Young Master.”
“Of course.” Lin Shuying’s mood brightened at this, and she lifted her chin. “My brother’s not as smart as I am.”
Jokes aside, all the necessary preparations were made.
Lin Shuying had A Li locate the original manuscript of the essay. She also reviewed the procedures and rules for the question-and-answer session of the final evaluation several times.
Xiao Shengrui had also sent word: Gu Hanzhou’s reputation in Jiangnan was middling. Though he had some scholarly ability, he was overly ambitious and had once clashed with a classmate over claiming credit. For this trip to the capital, his family had pawned nearly half their farmland to scrape together travel expenses—the pressure on him was immense.
“No wonder,” Lin Shuying muttered coldly as she crumpled the letter. “This is a last-ditch effort—succeed or perish.”
Unfortunately, he’d chosen the wrong path.
He could have stolen from anyone—but he had to steal from her.
“Miss,” A Li was still worried, “what if… what if Young Master Gu, cornered, turns around and accuses you instead?”
“Then we’ll see who has more evidence.” Lin Shuying said calmly. “My original draft has dates, revision marks, and annotations citing data sources. What does he have? A hasty copy—how much of it can he truly defend in debate?”
And there was also the small watermelon-shaped doodle in the corner of her draft page—something she’d scribbled absentmindedly when she got tired of writing.
If Gu Hanzhou had copied even that…
Now that would be interesting.
The three days passed in a blink.
On the day of the final evaluation, Lin Shuying rose early.
She changed into her men’s clothes, tied up her hair, and had Wei Fuyu darken her eyebrows with charcoal to make them look sharper and more heroic.
“She really looks like a handsome young scholar,” Wei Fuyu stepped back and nodded approvingly. “Just a bit short.”
“I’m only fourteen—I’m still growing.” Lin Shuying brushed it off. “Let’s go.”
Before they left, Wei Fuyu insisted on coming along: “I’ll be your bodyguard! If anyone tries anything, I’ll knock them out!”
Lin Shuying thought it over and agreed.
Wei Fuyu also changed into men’s clothes.
She was tall and broad-shouldered—dressed as a man, there was nothing out of place about her. She simply looked like a stalwart young warrior.
The two took a carriage into the city.
Arriving near the Imperial Academy, they indeed found Xiao Shengrui already waiting. The young man was also dressed in a moon-white robe today—standing beside Lin Shuying, the two looked like a pair of brothers.
“Everything is arranged,” Xiao Shengrui said quietly. “I had someone register you under the pseudonym ‘Lin Wuying.’ Here’s your entry pass.”
He handed over a wooden token engraved with the name “Lin Wuying.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Lin Shuying took the token and asked, “Has Gu Hanzhou arrived?”
“He arrived early and is waiting in the side hall.” Xiao Shengrui paused, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes playing at his lips. “He looks… confident.”
“Then let him enjoy it a little longer.”
The three entered the Imperial Academy.
The courtyard was already filled with scholars, all impeccably dressed, chatting and laughing. Lin Shuying, in her current attire, blended in without drawing attention.
The final evaluation was held in the Minglun Hall.
Several rows of seats were arranged inside, with the examiners seated at the head—teachers and assistant instructors from the Imperial Academy, along with a few invited court officials.
Lin Shuying’s gaze immediately fell on a young man seated at the very end of the examiner’s row.
He appeared to be in his late twenties, wearing a cyan official’s robe, with handsome features and a refined, scholarly bearing. He was looking down, flipping through the roster with focused attention.
“Who is that?” she whispered to Xiao Shengrui.
“Yang Wanli—the top scholar of the previous imperial examination, now a compiler at the Hanlin Academy,” Xiao Shengrui murmured back. “He’s also one of this year’s examination officials. Father sent him here probably to get an early look at this year’s crop of scholars.”
Lin Shuying gave Yang Wanli another look—he certainly lived up to his reputation as a top scholar.
The assembly began.
The chief examiner was the Imperial Academy’s Chancellor, an elderly man with white hair and beard.
He gave a brief opening speech, then announced the start of the debates.
The first few scholars who took the stage all spoke on well-worn topics.
Things like “The Way of the Gentleman” and “Governing the State and Pacifying the World”—they quoted classics and used ornate rhetoric, but there was nothing new.
The examiners listened—some nodded, some yawned.
Yang Wanli remained silent throughout, only occasionally jotting down notes.
Finally, it was Gu Hanzhou’s turn.
He smoothed his collar and strode confidently to the stage.
Producing his manuscript from his sleeve, he cleared his throat and began to read: “This humble student Gu Hanzhou of Jiangnan respectfully presents a ‘Memorial on Grain Reserves and Transport Improvements’…”
Lin Shuying listened quietly from below.
Gu Hanzhou had indeed copied her essay in full—even the data were transcribed verbatim.
He had only added some ornate flourishes here and there to make the essay sound more “brilliantly literary.”
The more he read, the more confident he grew, and his voice grew louder.
At the most impressive passages, murmurs of admiration rose from the audience.
“Excellent! This argument cuts to the heart!”
“The data is thorough—nothing like empty talk!”
“Brother Gu is truly talented!”
Gu Hanzhou’s face shone with barely concealed pride. He glanced at the examiners’ row and saw several nodding in approval, which only bolstered his confidence.
It was done! He could already see fame and success beckoning him.
When he finished reading, the hall fell silent for a moment before erupting in enthusiastic applause.
Even the chief examiner stood up: “Indeed, a fine essay. Though the preliminary review only saw the first half, it is already a masterpiece of its time. Gu, did you write this yourself? Was there any collaboration with fellow students?”
Gu Hanzhou bowed: “Your Excellency, it is merely this humble student’s own meager opinion.”
“Do you have a teacher or mentor?”
“This student is dull-witted—I merely happened upon these insights through my usual reading. I dare not claim any master.”
His words were polished and his demeanor humble, earning him even more goodwill.
Yang Wanli suddenly spoke up: “Gu, you mentioned in your essay that ‘the keel data of transport boats are based on actual measurements from Jiangnan shipyards’—where did this data come from? The blueprints of Jiangnan shipyards are classified by the Ministry of Works.”
Gu Hanzhou’s heart tightened, but his composure remained: “Your Excellency, I have a fellow student who works at the shipyard and once mentioned it in passing. The specific figures were calculated based on his descriptions.”
The explanation seemed reasonable enough.
Yang Wanli nodded and did not press further.
Gu Hanzhou breathed a sigh of relief.
He was about to step down when suddenly—from the back of the hall—a clear voice rang out: “Young Master Gu, I have a question.”
Everyone turned to look. A young man in a moon-white robe had risen to his feet.
He was young, with delicate features and eyes that gleamed with startling brightness.
It was Lin Shuying.
Gu Hanzhou frowned. From this distance, he didn’t recognize the person, only finding the young man’s voice somewhat odd.
But under the gaze of the crowd, he had no choice but to respond: “Please go ahead.”
Lin Shuying remained standing among the scholars below, but she first bowed courteously to the examiners’ row, then turned to Gu Hanzhou.
“Young Master Gu just claimed that you wrote this essay yourself?”
“Of course.”
“Then I would like to ask,” Lin Shuying said coldly, enunciating each word, “in your essay, you wrote that ‘the transport boat keel is three zhang two chi long, six chi wide, with a draft of one chi eight cun.’ You said you calculated this based on a fellow student’s description. May I ask—how exactly did you calculate it?”
Gu Hanzhou’s heart jolted.
How was he supposed to know the calculation?
He had just copied it verbatim!
“Th-this…” he stammered, “it was a simple calculation based on the boat’s proportions…”
“Oh?” Lin Shuying raised an eyebrow, her hands restrained from crossing, barely suppressing her mocking smile. “Then would Young Master Gu happen to know that this data comes from the Ministry of Works’ ‘Transport Boat Regulations’ of the seventh year of Jingyuan, personally approved by the Minister of Works at the time, and never made public? Your fellow student must hold quite a high position, wouldn’t you say?”
The hall erupted in murmurs.
Gu Hanzhou’s face went pale.
How did he know this?! It wasn’t written anywhere in the essay!
“And also,” Lin Shuying ignored the glances and whispers around her, not giving him a moment to breathe, “you mentioned in your essay that ‘grain reserves across the country are falsely reported by thirty percent’—where did that data come from? As far as this student knows, the Ministry of Revenue only completed its nationwide granary inspection last year, and the results have not yet been released. Does Young Master Gu perhaps have… the gift of foresight?”
Even the examiners’ row grew restless.
Yang Wanli narrowed his eyes, studying the young man below.
This youth looked young, yet he was so familiar with the details of court affairs—truly peculiar.
Cold sweat broke out on Gu Hanzhou’s forehead: “You—you’re slandering me! These data—I verified them through multiple sources…”
“Verified?” Lin Shuying couldn’t help but laugh. “Then would Young Master Gu be willing to produce the evidence of your verification? For example, what is the name of your fellow student at the Jiangnan shipyard? Which department does he work in? And regarding the granary data you claim to have verified from multiple sources—what were those sources?”
Gu Hanzhou was speechless.
What evidence did he have?
He didn’t even know which direction the Jiangnan shipyard’s main gate faced!
“Young Master Gu has nothing to say?” Lin Shuying raised an eyebrow, lowered her voice, and produced a stack of papers from her sleeve. “Then this student happens to have some evidence here.”
She unfurled the papers and held them up toward the examiners’ row: “This is an essay that this student came across by chance, also titled ‘Memorial on Grain Reserves and Transport Improvements.’ Its content… matches Young Master Gu’s reading word for word.”
She paused, flipped to the last page, and pointed at the corner: “Except that at the end of the final paragraph of this essay, there are several peculiar symbols written vertically.”
The hall fell utterly silent.
Everyone craned their necks to look.
If one didn’t look carefully, one might mistake them for writing errors—extra strokes of the brush.
“And in the manuscript that Young Master Gu just read,” Lin Shuying turned to Gu Hanzhou, whose face had already lost all color, “if I’m not mistaken, it seems… they’re also there?”
Gu Hanzhou’s hand trembled, and the manuscript nearly slipped from his grasp.
But he quickly steadied himself!
No! He hadn’t copied them at all!
Yet that very act of checking—was already a confession in itself.
“Young Master Gu,” the chief examiner said in a grave voice, “what exactly is going on here?”
“I—I…” Gu Hanzhou’s lips quivered, unable to form a single word.
Lin Shuying put away her papers and bowed deeply to the examiners’ row: “This student dares not speak recklessly. I only believe that scholars should take integrity as their foundation. Plagiarizing another’s work and passing it off as one’s own is truly unbefitting of a gentleman. I beg the esteemed officials to judge clearly.”
With that, she tugged at the two companions beside her, their eyes burning with admiration, and walked away calmly amid the stunned gazes of the crowd.
Stepping out of the Minglun Hall, the sunlight was blinding.
Lin Shuying let out a long, slow breath.
Behind her, the noise from the hall filtered through faintly—Gu Hanzhou’s defenses, the examiners’ questioning, the scholars’ discussions…
But she no longer cared.
Justice was in people’s hearts.
Those who steal must pay the price.
“Justice!” Wei Fuyu slapped her shoulder excitedly. “Shuying, you were amazing just now! You left that guy completely speechless!”
Xiao Shengrui looked at her, amusement glinting in his eyes: “This is the first time I’ve seen you so eloquent.”
Lin Shuying rubbed her nose. She had chaired countless national conferences in her previous life! Add to that all her school speeches and lectures—this was child’s play to her.
The three didn’t linger. They left the Imperial Academy and boarded the carriage.
Lin Shuying peeled off the disguise from her face and leaned back against the carriage wall.
She had won this battle.
But somehow, it wasn’t as satisfying as she’d imagined.
“Having second thoughts?” Xiao Shengrui asked.
“Not at all.” Lin Shuying shook her head. “It’s just… pointless.”
Stolen fame could never be truly one’s own.
Just like that senior fellow in her previous life—he’d stolen her data to publish a paper, and in the end, it was retracted, and he was ruined.
Why bother?
The carriage rolled out of the city gates, heading toward Little Lin Manor.
The watermelon seedlings in the fields swayed gently in the breeze.
It was better to grow melons.
Solid, real work—plant in spring, harvest in autumn, and every effort bore fruit.
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