Chapter 5.

When Takumi Kanemoto learned of his failure, he could not bear the shame and frustration. It is said that he lost his sanity and began to scream and cry like a madman. He tore off his clothes and banged his head against the walls. No one could console or calm him. His family and friends took him to his home, where they locked him in a dark room. There he spent the rest of his days, murmuring incoherencies and cursing his fate.

“The Imperial Examination”

Atlas of the Known World

Gran Alim, Ahmed Aljinn

Under the mantle of dusk, as the sun faded on the horizon, a restless congregation swirled in front of the administrative building’s entrance. Shadows stretched like long, dark fingers, caressing the cobblestone ground, weaving a web of mystery that enveloped the crowd.

Everyone awaited the results of the examination, the verdict that would determine their fate. The candidates’ family and friends accompanied them, with faces either anxious or resigned. Some prayed to the old gods or the new, others simply stared into the void or clung to amulets and talismans, seeking comfort in superstition. Everyone knew that the examination was more than a mere academic assessment.

It was a trial by fire, a natural selection, a matter of life or death.

The door opened with a bang, breaking the sepulchral silence that reigned. A man emerged from the building, dressed in a black robe that covered him to his feet. His face was expressionless, his eyes as cold as steel. He was an imperial official, one of those charged with announcing the results. He carried several rolled-up scrolls, sealed with wax.

The man approached a bulletin board next to the door and began to pin the scrolls with tacks. Each scroll contained a list of names written in black ink. These were the names of those who had passed, who had overcome the test and earned the right to move forward.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

The crowd crowded around the board, trying to read the names. Cheers mixed with sobs, laughter with wails. Some jumped for joy, embracing their relatives and friends. Others sunk into despair, consoled by their loved ones. Some stood silent, not knowing how to react.

He searched for his name among the lists, his heart in a vise grip. He had studied for years to prepare for the exam, sacrificed everything for his dream: going to the Forbidden City. The city where everything was possible, where the imperial court ruled with an iron hand and ancient wisdom, where the best schools and academies were, where scholars and artists vied for the favor of nobles and ministers, where riches and secrets were hidden behind red walls and golden roofs.

He had dedicated his life to that dream, forsaken everything for it. He had studied relentlessly since he was a child, learning sacred texts, laws, history, poetry, philosophy by heart. He had memorized thousands of verses, dates, names, and concepts. He had practiced calligraphy until his fingers bled. He had reviewed over and over until he knew it all by memory… He had endured hunger, cold, fatigue, the mockery of more fortunate classmates.

But he didn’t find his name anywhere.

He felt an emptiness in his chest, a lump in his throat.

It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t have failed.

Not after so much effort, so much hope.

He searched with greater desperation, reviewing the lists again and again. Maybe he had mistaken the section, perhaps he had overlooked his name among so many others.

But there was no possible mistake.

He wasn’t there.

He hadn’t passed.

He had failed.

Tears blurred his vision. He thought of his aunt, who had become a widow when a plague ravaged the Outer City. She had taken him in as if he were her own son after his mother died, feeding and clothing him with what little she earned sewing uniforms for the imperial army.

She had trusted him, believed in him.

He thought of his teacher, who had discovered him reciting verses in the market when he sold rotten fruits. He had taken him to his home, taught him everything he knew, lent him his most precious books.

He had invested in him, had gambled on him.

He thought of his cousin. She was just a girl, but she already knew what misery, illness, and fear were. She told him her dreams of traveling to the great city, of seeing the emperor’s palace, of studying in a school.

She hoped that he would lift her out of her misery, that he would give her a chance.

He thought of all of them, and felt an unbearable shame.

What would he tell them? How would he explain that he had disappointed their expectations? How would he apologize for wasting their sacrifices?

He couldn’t face them. He couldn’t bear to see them again.

He fell to his knees on the ground, not caring about the dust or the people who looked at him with curiosity or disdain. Bitter tears poured from his eyes. He sobbed without consolation.

Then he heard a voice.

“These are the last ones!”

He looked up. The official placed a final scroll on the board. It was different from the others. It was golden.

The scroll had a title written in Kanji: “Outstanding Students”.

His name was in the first place.

…

…

…

He was going to the Forbidden City.