After Entering The Abusive Novel, I Became The Empress - chapter 16

Qin Yuncheng walked over holding a folding fan. He set a finely crafted hairpin upon Qin Yuqing’s lap and said with a smile,

“Sixth Sister, I heard a few days ago that you had returned to the capital. But since Fourth Brother was still in Lucheng, I could only come to see you today.”

Qin Yuqing shook her head, accepting the gift with ease. She smiled back. “It’s fine. But may I ask, Fourth Brother, what business took you to Lucheng?”

“A famous old physician appeared in Lucheng. Father has been suffering headaches and fevers lately, so I went to invite him.” Qin Yuncheng drew out a prescription from his sleeve. “It took much begging, but at last the physician agreed to enter the palace to treat Father.”

“As expected of Fourth Brother’s thoughtfulness. But what does Fourth Brother think of Chen Yijun’s claims?”

Qin Yuncheng tucked the prescription away and sighed. “Sixth Sister, you were at the temple and didn’t know. There’s no such thing as an examination without cheating. In the capital, all the renowned scholars have disciples under their names.”

Qin Yuqing’s gaze darkened. She understood the implication.

“The number of examination slots is limited. Even if one is a peerless talent, if he is too lofty, too proud, and refuses the olive branch offered to him—how could he ever become an official?”

His tone carried helplessness at the corruption, sorrow for wasted geniuses, and indignation at the injustice.

“But this is the imperial examination—it should be the path for all scholars,” Qin Yuqing murmured. In her heart, she thought of the modern-day college entrance exam. Though it was described as thousands charging a single-log bridge, it was still fairer and more just than most alternatives.

“Perhaps. But in the end…” Qin Yuncheng lifted his fan to cover his face, glancing at Chen Yijun, who knelt on the ground with his back straight.

“…this is only the imperial exam.”

The two fell silent, reading the helplessness in each other’s eyes.

“Why did you attempt to assassinate the Sixth Princess?” Lu Jingchuan pressed again when Chen Yijun gave no answer. “Speak.”

Chen Yijun pursed his lips. Sunlight filtered through the cracks, falling across his thin frame, making him seem all the more frail. Yet his straight spine declared the final pride of a scholar.

“Because someone told me that if I killed the Sixth Princess, I would not only receive a heavy reward, but also clear the Park family’s name.”

Qin Yuqing’s eyes grew deep. Only she and Lu Jingchuan knew the true threads behind the assassination—so no one else could judge whether his words were true or false.

“Who was it?” Lu Jingchuan nodded slightly, this time pulling out a small cloth bundle.

Chen Yijun clenched his teeth. His gaze was clear, resolute, his bearing like a lone pine on a cliff. “There are rules in this trade. I believe General Lu knows them well.”

“Indeed.” Lu Jingchuan turned toward the emperor and bowed. “What I do next may be discourteous. I beg Your Majesty’s pardon.”

“No matter. I only wish to know who ordered Qing’er’s death.”

Lu Jingchuan inclined his head. He drew out an unusually long silver needle and ordered soldiers to seize Chen Yijun’s hand. With a practiced thrust, he drove the needle beneath the man’s fingernail.

Qin Yuqing watched his cold face and thought back to her own interrogation of the black-clad assassin. The resemblance between them made her lips twitch in a faint smile.

No wonder she had chosen him as her first partner.

Sweat poured down Chen Yijun’s brow. His face turned bluish-purple with pain, his bloodshot eyes glaring.

By the fifth needle, he broke. His hoarse voice cracked. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

Lu Jingchuan’s gaze was icy. He yanked the needle out, tearing a scream from Chen Yijun’s throat that echoed across the cliffside.

“Who ordered it?”

Chen Yijun collapsed, gasping, trembling, bl00d dripping from his fingers. He raised a hand, pointing it at Qin Yuncheng.

“The Fourth Prince. He told me that if I killed the Sixth Princess, he would overturn the Park family’s case.”

Qin Yuncheng blinked, then dropped to his knees with a heavy thud. “Father Emperor, please see clearly! A few days ago I was still in Lucheng—how could I possibly appear here in Mount Wen?”

“And besides, I only learned today that Sixth Sister was even here. How could I have known her whereabouts in advance?”

Qin Yuqing studied the reactions around the hall. Most were filled with shock and disbelief.

“Chen Yijun, speak truthfully, and you may yet keep your body whole,” Lu Jingchuan warned, wiping the bloody needle. “If the Fourth Prince was in Lucheng, how could he have met you in Mount Wen?”

“Indeed. If I recall, it takes two days by carriage between Lucheng and Mount Wen.” Crown Prince Qin Youqian slapped his hand against the armrest in emphasis.

In the next instant, Chen Yijun twisted his finger toward the Crown Prince instead. “I remember now! It was him! He told me that if the Sixth Princess lived, his title as Crown Prince would be threatened.”

Qin Youqian’s eyes widened. One careless remark, and suspicion turned upon himself.

“Well, well, Crown Prince Brother—you really think highly of your little sister,” Qin Yuqing said with a faint, mocking smile.

“Sixth Sister, don’t tease me,” Qin Youqian replied bitterly. He hadn’t expected Chen Yijun to bite at random. “Father Emperor, I swear it isn’t true. The Empress was unwell these past days, and I remained by her side the whole time.”

“At that time, both my brother the Crown Prince and I were in Mother’s chambers,” Qin Qinqin interjected quickly, “and the maids and eunuchs there can all testify.”

“Chen Yijun, our patience is limited,” Lu Jingchuan said coldly.

Chen Yijun gave a hollow laugh, then swung his hand again—this time toward Qin Junyi. “It was him! He said the Sixth Princess was a variable. If she lived, he would never ascend the throne!”

“Second Brother,” Qin Yuqing chuckled softly, “I never thought you’d value me so much.”

At her words, Eunuch Zhang obediently wheeled her around to face the Second Prince.

“Sixth Sister, you just love stirring the pot.” Qin Junyi knelt with composure. “Father, these past days I have been confined to the palace by your decree. I have not even stepped past the gates.”

“Nor have I ever harbored rebellious intent. I beg Father’s judgment.”

Listening to each prince’s defense, Qin Yuqing reflected: indeed, none of them seemed to have had the opportunity. But Park Qinghe wouldn’t have lied to her.

She tapped her blanket-covered leg lightly, reviewing the storyline the system had transmitted, pondering other possibilities.

Could it be… there was a hidden illegitimate child?

As she thought, Chen Yijun suddenly jabbed a finger at himself. Then came words that left the hall reeling:

“It was the Sixth Princess herself! She told me to assassinate her, so she could draw everyone’s attention. She craves to be noticed!”

“?”

“What nonsense?”

“Say that again? Who asked who to kill?”

Qin Yuqing’s threefold confusion sparked muffled laughter throughout the hall.

“Sixth Sister, the top scorer of three years past is accusing you of plotting your own assassination,” Qin Qinqin chimed in, smirking as she stepped closer.

“Fourth Sister!” Qin Yuqing started to retort—only for Chen Yijun’s hand to swivel again, now pointing to Qin Qinqin.

“I was mistaken! It was the Fourth Princess. She envies all her sisters, and told me to strike her down.”

“Your turn now, Fourth Sister.”

Laughter rippled again. The man wasn’t silencing suspicion, only shifting it from one person to another.

Qin Yuqing finally understood: Chen Yijun wasn’t just resisting—he was biting wildly. Whether madness or feigned madness, who could tell?

“Enough. Drag him to the prison. Three days later, he will be executed,” the emperor declared, ending the farce.

But suddenly, Chen Yijun broke free. He rushed to the cliff railing and turned back to face them all.

“The imperial examination belongs to all scholars! It should place no limits—whether man or woman!”

His eyes shone brighter than ever. He lifted his voice toward the emperor. “I am about to die, so let me speak truth: I came here for only one reason.”

“What reason, that you would risk such chaos?” the emperor asked, staying the guards with a raised hand.

“Your Majesty, the Qingshan Treatise of three years past was not written by me. But it was not plagiarized either!” Tears of bl00d streamed from his eyes. “I want the world to know—it was written by my late wife, Chen Ning!”

“She wrote it as she lay dying in the courtyard. She said, ‘If only I were a man…’”

Gasps filled the hall. Ministers muttered in disbelief.

“Impossible!”

“How could a woman write such a masterpiece?”

“It must be a lie—his excuse to deny cheating.”

“To study, to serve, to be a man, to be an official…” Chen Yijun’s voice rang with anguish. “Why must the exams divide people into ranks? Why must they restrict who may take them? Why must a scholar only ever be a ‘son’?”

“I hate the injustice of this world. I hate the corruption of the exams. I hate that women are barred from office!” He stepped over the railing. “Yet I am a man! And it was because of that, I failed her expectations!”

Chen Yijun’s life might have been bleak. He bore his wife’s unfulfilled dream, transcribing her words, carrying her hope in silence.

He was a bird with broken wings. Yet he had tried to climb the tree. Even if doomed to fall, he had struggled.

And at the last, he burned brightly, unashamed to face her in death.

The hall fell into stunned silence. None had imagined events would end this way.

“See that the couple is buried with honor,” the emperor said at last, gazing at the bl00d-stained stone. “My lords, what say you to Chen Yijun’s claim—that women be permitted into the imperial examinations?”

The ministers exchanged glances. Many still clung to their prejudice, insisting women could never enter officialdom.

“Your Majesty, the rules must not be changed,” one elder finally declared. “And this Qingshan Treatise—who but Chen Yijun himself claims it was written by a woman?”

“Besides Minister Guo, does anyone else wish to speak?”

Guo Yun, Minister of Rites, the rigid old official infamous for clinging to tradition—his articles themselves stale with stubbornness. If he could be convinced, the rest might follow.

“I have a memorial to submit,” said Lord Lu, stepping forward with Lu Jingchuan’s support. “In my opinion, Chen Yijun spoke true. The examinations should be fair and just. Scholars should be defined broadly—not narrowly.”

With Guo Yun and Lord Lu both voicing their stances, other officials followed. But most aligned with Guo, while behind Lord Lu stood mostly generals.

The division between civil and military was stark.

“What would a bunch of generals know of literature?” someone scoffed.

“We may not,” a young female officer stepped forward, her hair tied simply, her voice ringing clear. “But we know that brilliance is not limited to men. Women can astound the world as well. If women can stand on the battlefield, why can they not take the examinations and serve the court?”

It was Shen Yanqing, a figure barely mentioned in the original tale. Yet she was a heaven-sent general, born with extraordinary martial talent, quick to grasp the art of command. At a young age, she was already capable of defending the southern border alone.

She had proved with her strength that women could lead armies into battle.