Porter's Immortal Cultivation: I Have Level 5 Full Inscriptions

Chapter 222 The Imperial Examination

The group entered through the Meridian Gate.

Led by officials, we walked straight ahead, passing numerous buildings, small bridges, and flowing water.

According to the etiquette instructions given beforehand, one must not look around after entering the palace, as this would be a breach of official decorum.

However, since everyone here is a martial artist, they don't pay much attention to such formalities, and many people look around.

The official hats worn by everyone had long wings on both sides. As everyone swayed their heads from side to side, the wings collided with each other, making a crackling sound.

Yang Silang was also one of those who brazenly watched the crowd.

He had no intention of becoming an official, so this might be the first and last time he would enter the palace in his life.

If not now, when?

He looked around for a moment, then became disappointed and stopped looking around.

How so?

It is a continuous and magnificent building complex, imbued with the solemn and dignified atmosphere of imperial power, thus making it quite extraordinary.

Furthermore, runes are engraved on the palace bricks underfoot every few steps.

Soldiers were on duty at the palace gates along the way, accompanied by demonic dogs.

The group obediently allowed the demonic dog to sniff them all over.

Then, following the official leading the way, we wandered around in a maze-like maze.

They walked for a full half hour, and the closer they got to the center of the palace, the more Yang Silang felt his soul and spirit being suppressed.

In the end, he discovered that with his spiritual cultivation level, he could only retreat into his Niwan Palace, unable to release even a trace of spiritual awareness.

It seems that there are also techniques in this palace to suppress Daoist cultivators.

In addition, the circulation of true qi and blood in his body began to be sluggish, and Yang Silang estimated that he could barely stand at the threshold of the Grandmaster level.

He glanced at Li Hui and He Lan Jin beside him.

These two were originally Grandmasters, but their faces were grim. Their qi and blood had been forcibly suppressed by a whole realm, dropping them to the Steel-Dirty Grand Martial Master realm.

The cultivation levels of the group were not reduced, but rather weakened and sealed due to the influence of a mysterious formation.

For martial artists who have always relied on force, this is equivalent to handing over half of their lives, which makes them extremely uneasy. This has nothing to do with anything else; it is simply a martial artist's instinct.

Yang Silang then observed the palace guards.

Squads of guards, led by junior officers, patrolled the area.

Judging from their gait and walking style, those guards should have similar skills to Wang Daniu, that is, they were just ordinary martial artists.

However, their blood and qi were so abundant that they had even reached the Iron Bone Martial Master realm.

The junior officer leading the team was merely a low-ranking military officer, yet his aura was as strong as that of a steel-dreg master, making him comparable in strength to an ordinary tribute student.

Yang Silang recalled what Mo Xinlian had said.

After Emperor Taizu Qitai passed away, Emperor Zhaoming ascended the throne and gathered the best experts in the world, spending countless rare and precious materials to build the capital city, a city that forbids spirits.

At that time, nine dragon-blooded demon immortals were killed beneath the foundation of the capital city walls, and the Nine Dragon Spirit-Binding Array was set up. One theory is that the core of the array was inside the imperial palace.

Foreign martial artists and cultivators entering the palace are forced to drop a realm; however, the imperial guards of the capital, who cultivate special techniques, receive a boost and may even advance a major realm.

Yang Silang silently calculated.

What if these hundreds of scholars suddenly rebelled and rioted inside the palace, heading straight for the dragon throne?

They would likely be wiped out quickly under the siege of the Imperial Guards.

Also.

Huge stone sculptures and even metal statues stand everywhere in the palace.

They are not as huge as the stone statues in the imperial tombs, but they are usually about ten feet tall. Most of them are ferocious beasts such as tigers and lions, but there are also demons.

I remembered that Mo Xinlian had said that she fought with the stone statues guarding the mausoleum after entering it.

Yang Silang felt a chill in his heart.

There were no fewer than a hundred statues in the city that he could see, and there were many more in other places that he couldn't see.

There must be thousands of statues in this palace.

Then, in conjunction with those inner guards whose cultivation level has increased by one realm.

With such a combination, it would be virtually impossible for any rebel to storm the capital.

In addition, the emperor, protected by the dragon's divine power, possessed immense strength, was immune to evil, and had protective divine powers.

Before he was abandoned by the dragon vein, who could kill him amidst so many guards? It was virtually impossible.

No wonder there are very few records of emperors being assassinated in the palace throughout history.

The group continued forward and were led to the front porch of a magnificent hall, where writing brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and small tables had been set out. A futon was placed on the ground, and a long candle was placed on the table.

Today's first test is the internal examination, which involves writing down the blanks in the given sentences. The test content is from the "Wu Jing" (Military Classic).

After the founding of the Shun Dynasty, several emperors even stipulated that the examinations would include an external test, in which all candidates had to personally ride horses, shoot arrows, wield knives, and lift stones in front of the emperor.

Later, the external examination component was abolished by a negligent emperor.

Nowadays, as long as everyone writes those hundred characters correctly without making mistakes, they can obtain the status of a Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations).

Because of this expansion of enrollment.

The area was fairly spacious for the first hundred or so people, but as the rankings progressed, the tables for those at higher ranks were very close together, making it feel slightly crowded.

According to the ranking of the participants in the imperial examination, yellow tags were affixed to all the tables, with each person's name and place of origin written on them.

Yang Silang found his seat and sat down.

He looked to his left and saw Helan Jin; he looked to his right and saw Li Hui.

The three were ranked next to each other, so their seats were also arranged accordingly.

Looking further back, he saw Zhou Mingxuan squeezed into the innermost corner of the line. This kid had barely made it through and was therefore placed at the very back of the queue.

at this time.

An official from the Court of State Ceremonial coughed and reiterated the importance of proper etiquette when meeting His Majesty, as well as precautions to take during the palace examination.

The crowd waited in the hall for a very long time.

But Emperor Yongchang did not arrive even after dawn.

Instead, a eunuch solemnly carried an imperial edict plaque and respectfully placed it on the dragon throne, because it was inscribed with the four characters "As if I were personally present."

Everyone then knew that Emperor Yongchang would not be coming.

The emperor probably had no interest in reading the policy essays written haphazardly by a group of military men.

Guided by eunuchs and officials, the crowd rose from their seats and performed the three kneelings and nine prostrations on the ground, shouting "Long live the Emperor!"

The proctor, the CEO, was also beneath the dragon throne, spouting classic quotes from "Porter's Immortal Cultivation: I Have Level 5 Full Inscriptions," seeking resonance. A pair of sharp eyes swept over the crowd from one side of the imperial steps, and he spoke.

To the left and right of the CEO were seven elderly eunuchs in blue robes, each with white hair, a back as thick as a pot, and a weathered face.

However, these seven old eunuchs each possessed an imposing aura, as majestic as a prison or the sea, and their vital energy was as vigorous as a furnace. Anyone who glanced at them would know that they were seven Grandmaster-level experts.

They stand here to ensure that the candidates below answer the questions honestly and that there is no cheating.

With a command from the CEO.

"start!"

Yang Silang immediately raised his hand to pick up the pen.

“Eh…”

The pen was made of some unknown metal, and it was extremely heavy and cold to the touch, weighing several hundred pounds. Moreover, the longer one held it, the cold air would penetrate the body, freezing one's blood and qi.

It is said that this was made by order of the negligent emperor, and it is called the Frost Iron Brush.

Although he didn't allow anyone to practice swordsmanship or archery, thus saving a day, he was clearly not someone who could be fooled.

If you take this pen, you must write a hundred words neatly and carefully, without writing crookedly or sloppily. This is enough to reflect a person's true skill level.

Especially under the imperial palace's spirit-suppressing array, where everyone's strength is suppressed, it is even more difficult.

Yang Silang's qi and blood were suppressed, but he was still able to maintain his position at the threshold of the Grandmaster level. With a slight exertion of his wrist, he was able to write fluently.

He circulated his fire-elemental true energy, expelling the chill that had invaded his body. His hand, like a ball of fire, warmed the icy iron pen.

A few hundred pounds is nothing; each stroke is no different from writing normally, and the speed is not even much slower.

He glanced to his left and right out of the corner of his eye.

Helan Jin and Li Hui were clearly struggling.

Both of them had beads of sweat on their foreheads, their skin was slightly bluish, and their lips had lost their color. Clearly, they were having a very difficult time writing because their qi and blood were being forcibly suppressed in the Steel-Dirty Realm.

Although they wrote slowly, they still managed to hold the pen with one hand while suspending their wrist, maintaining a dignified writing posture. Their strokes were strong and powerful, still able to produce the style they used to write.

It's just a bit slower.

Further away.

Some candidates had sweat dripping from their foreheads, which had frozen solid, and their hair was covered in frost. Their right hands were pressed against the table, and it was impossible for them to even lift their wrists to write. It was already a struggle for them to move around and write.

Don't try to write in your own handwriting. If you can write the characters straight and legible, and don't write them crookedly or badly, that's already good enough.

of course.

They are even slower, like snails.

Yang Silang finished writing in just the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. After checking it to make sure it was correct, he placed the Frost Brush on the inkstone next to him and thought to himself that the person who came up with this idea was truly a genius.

It saved time by eliminating tedious basic steps such as stone picking, horse stance, archery, and sword dancing, and also tested the true skills of the candidates.

In this situation, it's completely impossible for someone to take advantage of the situation or pretend to be someone else.

When Yang Silang finished writing, he glanced to the left and right out of the corner of his eye.

Helan Jin and Li Hui only finished writing half of it, and then looked ahead.

More than thirty people in the front row had already put down their pens, their backs ramrod straight. Clearly, there were also masters like him who had successfully completed their policy essays.

"So it seems," Yang Silang muttered to himself, "judging solely from the strength of my true energy and the vigor of my blood, I should probably rank in the thirties."

"If you can't beat a Grandmaster of Golden Marrow, then so be it."

"I didn't expect that he wouldn't even make it into the top ten among the Grandmasters."

"If it were a true life-or-death battle, with the blessing of the Martial Saint's Divine Will Seed and my supernatural powers, I should be able to compete for first or second place among the Grandmasters, but I would still be no match for the Golden Marrow Grandmaster."

"But if I create distance, I can use the Black Dragon Bow to launch a long-range attack and also have ways to counterattack."

"Hmm, if it really comes down to actual combat, I should have a place in the top thirty."

After some mental assessment, Yang Silang concluded that he could probably make it onto the martial arts roster by deciding the outcome through actual combat.

Today, all we need to do is sit back and watch people perform martial arts.

Now that the policy essay is complete, all that's left is to go through the formality of having it reviewed. After that, I'll be a military scholar.

He remained calm and composed, closing his eyes to rest.

In less than half an incense stick's time.

Someone dropped their pen, which slammed heavily onto the table, likely staining the exam paper.

The students who had finished their exams all turned around, and Yang Silang followed suit, thinking to himself, "Please, I hope Zhou Mingxuan didn't make a mistake."

His Steel-Dirty Grand Martial Master's energy and blood were suppressed to the level of Iron-Bone Martial Master, making it no easy task for him to write with the Frost Iron Pen.

It turned out that Zhou Mingxuan was still persevering, supporting his right wrist with his left hand and writing with both hands. Although it was slow, it was very steady, and it seemed that he could finish the test.

That was the unlucky guy at the very end of the line; his paper was stained with large amounts of ink, and his pen had fallen to the ground.

He was trembling and had already knelt down. His clothes were completely frozen, and he looked extremely disheveled. No wonder he dropped his pen.

The CEO stood to his left and right with two eunuchs, speaking in an unfriendly tone.

They could see that the words on the scroll were crooked and some were difficult to decipher.

"Why can't you even do a good job on a test?"

"With such meager qi and blood, how could he possibly qualify as a tribute scholar?"

Writing under the watchful eyes of everyone is a very serious matter, indicating that he is not even a Steel-Dirty Martial Arts Master.

The unfortunate fellow cried out.

"Replying to the CEO... this humble servant... this humble servant is a substitute..."

"On the day the list of successful candidates was released, the last-ranked candidate was pushed into an iron spear and killed by the crowd while looking at the list."

"I took the place of the substitute in order... I... I never expected to win."

Everyone was speechless.

It wasn't that he cheated; rather, the candidates before him died the moment the results were announced, and he took their place and became the lucky one.

But without skill, it's all for naught; he hadn't even finished writing his policy essay.

The CEO frowned, whispered something to the two eunuchs beside him, and then waved his hand dismissively.

"You are innocent."

"But you've lost your status as a tribute student."

"Go back and train for a few more years before coming back..."

He waved his hand, and immediately imperial guards entered and dragged the man out. The man didn't forget to kowtow and express his gratitude...