De’an lightly nudged Zhao Jing and whispered, "I was actually moved. If it weren’t for all the grief my mother gives me, which has built up my immunity, I would’ve been completely taken in."

Zhao Jing hissed, "How is that being ’taken in’? The Lord Prefect spoke with righteousness and clarity. His words are pearls of wisdom, and every sentence is something we should commit to memory and reflect upon carefully..."

De’an raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, I’ll stop. I won’t say another word."

As his speech drew to a close, Mr. Sheng once again offered impassioned thanks to the wise and brilliant Son of Heaven, leading the crowd in a kowtow toward Jinluan Hall.

Only after the kowtow ended were the official ceremonies considered complete. Mr. Sheng then gestured for everyone to take their seats, and the banquet prepared to commence.

The banquet was a lavish spread, with hot and cold dishes served in a continuous stream.

With the call to "Begin the feast!" a collective, subtle sigh of relief passed through the crowd.

The true purpose of such banquets was never the food and drink, but rather to build connections and leave an impression on the officials who wielded regional authority.

Xinghuai Prefecture administered thirteen counties. With the exception of the County Magistrate of Guyuan County, who was imprisoned and thus absent, the remaining twelve County Magistrates all raised their wine cups and approached Mr. Sheng in an orderly fashion to offer a toast.

If Mr. Sheng was pleased, he would take a generous drink. If he was dissatisfied with a county’s Scholars or a County Magistrate’s performance, he would merely wet his lips.

This allowed him to avoid causing public embarrassment while still conveying his stance and issuing a tacit warning: ’If there’s no improvement, I’m afraid your position as County Magistrate won’t be secure for much longer.’

After this series of interactions, some County Magistrates returned to their seats beaming, their faces like flowers in bloom. Others were drenched in a cold sweat, their eyes still showing the lingering shock.

Chen De’an watched the spectacle for entertainment, while Zhao Jing carefully mulled over this art of managing subordinates.

The more he contemplated it, the more fascinating it became. Without realizing it, he had finished the entire cup of wine in his hand.

De’an saw this and quickly reached out to stop him. "People haven’t even started toasting you, and you’re already drinking on your own. Hold off for now. You’ll have plenty of opportunities later. I’m worried so many people will propose a toast that you’ll end up drinking till you puke."

Wang Jun was seated right in front of De’an.

Hearing this, Wang Jun chuckled. "Even if he does, there’s no need to worry. I had someone prepare hangover soup; it’s in my carriage. We can each have a bowl on the way back. I guarantee you’ll sleep like a log and wake up feeling completely refreshed."

De’an scoffed. "By the time we get to your hangover soup, we’ll be too drunk to walk straight. See what this is? Hangover Relief Pills. We came prepared. You take one before drinking, and it should at least do *something*."

The others, including Shang Liangchun who had always kept a slight distance from the group, all turned to look at De’an. "You sneaky devil! You had something this good and didn’t think to share? Hurry up, how many do you have? Hand them over!"

De’an had no choice but to take out all the Hangover Relief Pills he had.

He had actually prepared a share for them anyway. After each person took one, they were all gone.

Amidst a sea of reserved conversation, how could their boisterous little group not stand out?

Mr. Sheng noticed and beckoned a constable over to deliver a message. Soon enough, the group at the table saw the constable approach them with a smile. "Mr. Zhao, the Triple Firsts Scholar, the Lord Prefect requests your presence."

All his friends looked at Zhao Jing. In fact, everyone—including the other County Magistrates and candidates—turned to look at him.

For a moment, the hall fell silent.

But Zhao Jing was a Triple Firsts Scholar, a name already noted by the Lord Prefect. It was perfectly understandable that the Lord Prefect would summon him personally.

"Zhao Jing’s future is boundless."

"Now that he has caught the Lord Prefect’s eye, a bright future awaits him."

"I can only blame my own inadequacy. I won first place in the county and prefecture exams, but lost to Mr. Lian by a narrow margin in the college exam. If not for that, I would be a Triple Firsts Scholar, too..."

The crowd burned with envy, straining their ears to overhear the conversation between the Lord Prefect and Zhao Jing. But the two spoke in low voices, and amidst the hall’s cacophony, it was impossible to hear anything.

They could only, once again, feel a pang of regret for not having worked harder.

Had they managed to become a Triple Firsts Scholar, they too could have received a personal summons from the Lord Prefect.

As for Zhao Jing, he moved to kneel in greeting, but Mr. Sheng quickly pulled him up.

A broad, pleasant smile spread across Mr. Sheng’s face. "The teahouse was so clamorous that day, I didn’t get a proper look at your face. Seeing you clearly now, you truly are as handsome and elegant as your writing."

Composed, Zhao Jing cupped his hands. "You flatter me, sir."

"I know very well whether it’s flattery or not," Mr. Sheng said. "Men, bring him a seat."

Zhao Jing watched the constables bring over a small table and stool. After expressing his thanks, he sat down at Mr. Sheng’s side.

Mr. Sheng glanced at Zhao Jing again. From this angle, the young man had sharp features and bright eyes, and he sat with his back perfectly straight.

One look told him this was a young man of immense integrity and strategic mind. As long as his life wasn’t cut short, his future would be anything but small.

Seeing such promise in Zhao Jing, Mr. Sheng naturally did not hold back his kind words.