The Marquis Mansion’s Elite Class

The crowd noticed Ge Hong’s acknowledgment of the young scholars, exchanging puzzled glances. Though they didn’t fully understand, they sensed his genuine admiration.

Ge Hong took a deep breath, recalling Shen Yibai’s policy essay and comparing it to his own. He quickly turned back to jot down notes. Losing was one thing, but he wouldn’t let the loss be in vain—he was determined to catch up to them!

Outside the academy, the five young boys boarded their carriage, still buzzing with ideas on how to refine their essays. Only Xu Wan glanced back at Ge Hong.

—She was looking at her past self.

Once, she too had been left behind due to poverty and lack of educational resources. Even after pouring her heart into studying, excelling in most subjects, her English scores dragged her down—a subject others had mastered since childhood, while she only started in middle school.

Inequality in one’s origins is an unchanging truth, past or present. But should that lead to self-pity or surrender?

No. Through education, she climbed out of the mountains. Though she barely scraped into a second-tier university, she earned scholarships every year, secured a decent job after graduation, and helped many younger siblings.

The imperial exams might not be perfectly fair for commoners, but they were the closest path to fairness.

So—

Keep going, Ge Hong. May you go far.

At the Yangyuan Marquis Manor...

"Woo-hoo! We're home! Race you to the study?" the little troublemaker kicked his legs excitedly.

"I’ll definitely win!" Shen Yibai declared with his usual confidence.

"In your dreams! It’s me!" Wei Xinglu shot back fearlessly.

Zong Wenxiu laughed and counted down for them: "Ready? Three, two, one—go!"

"Charge!!!"

The four young rascals sprinted off, none willing to fall behind, while Zong Wenxiu jogged behind, cheering them on.

Xu Wan chuckled before following, only to be stopped by Cui Zhi: "Madam, look—the General is back!"

"Huh?" Xu Wan turned abruptly, meeting Zong Zhao’s gaze.

After two months of his early departures and late returns, seeing him in broad daylight was a surprise. She walked over and asked, "You’re done so early today?"

The servants tactfully stepped back, giving the couple privacy. Cui Zhi barely suppressed her grin, signaling the others to keep quiet.

Zong Zhao looked down at her, his voice low. "It’s done. The Ministry of Justice approved the arrest warrant. We’re closing the net."

Xu Wan immediately understood—he meant the Chancellor Yan case, a twelve-year-old injustice. She covered her mouth, eyes widening. "So next is..."

"—Making the arrest," Zong Zhao finished.

"Then why come back?" Xu Wan pressed. "Do you need something?" She glanced at the soldiers waiting behind him.

Zong Zhao leaned closer. "Fetch Wenxiu and Jincheng. We’ll take them along."

Xu Wan’s excitement flared, but she held back. "Won’t we tip them off if we all go?"

"No," Zong Zhao said firmly. "The area’s surrounded. Not even a dog could slip out."

Xu Wan: "!!!"

This was a full-scale operation!

"Wait here—I’ll get them!" She lifted her skirts and dashed inside.

Ahead, the four boys had already vanished in their race. Xu Wan muttered as she ran, "Those little rascals—how are they so fast?!"

Outskirts of the capital...

A secluded estate nestled against mountains and water, its serene beauty perfect for retirement.

As the carriage halted, Zong Zhao helped Xu Wan down. Zong Jincheng rubbed his hands eagerly, leaping out.

"Brother, hurry! I’ll catch you!" the little troublemaker called.

Zong Wenxiu’s palms were damp with sweat.

He’d once dreamed of investigating Chancellor Yan’s infamous corruption case after entering politics—but that would’ve taken years. Yet his uncle had unraveled it in just two months.

And ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍the mastermind—was right inside.

Gripping his brother’s hand, Zong Wenxiu jumped down and followed Zong Zhao and Xu Wan into the estate.

By the courtyard pond, an unfinished chess game lay on the table. A silver-haired man in his sixties placed a black piece before smiling leisurely at Zong Zhao. "General Zong, I hear you’re not just a scholar and warrior but also a master of chess. Might I trouble you for a game?"

On the board, black led, white trailed.

Xu Wan scanned the surroundings. Servants huddled in corners, trembling under the soldiers’ siege—a stark contrast to the old man’s calm.

The little troublemaker whispered, "Why’s Dad playing chess with the villain? Just arrest him!"

Xu Wan shook her head. "Patience. Let’s watch."

Zong Wenxiu burned with curiosity but trusted his uncle implicitly, holding his brother back to listen.

Zong Zhao took a white piece and began his move.

After several exchanges, the old man chuckled. "The Yangyuan Marquis Manor bred generations of warriors, yet produced a top scholar. When you won the imperial exams, I expected you to become a civil official. Yet after vanishing for eight years, you returned a war hero. But tell me—why trouble a retired chancellor like me when you already have fame and fortune?"

His black piece struck a lethal blow.

Now Xu Wan knew his identity—Fan Ding, the former chancellor.

Twelve years ago, after Chancellor Yan’s dismissal for corruption, three successors had held the position. No one guessed the puppeteer stood so far removed.

"Chancellor Fan spent eight years patiently paving the way for your superior to reap the rewards. Admirable dedication. But justice burns bright. Chancellor Yan’s case will be overturned."

Zong Zhao’s white piece shattered Fan Ding’s strategy.

Fan Ding paused, then placed another piece, unshaken. "Young man, don’t overreach. Chancellor Yan’s case was tried by the three judicial offices and sentenced by the Emperor himself. To overturn it isn’t just about killing me—you’d humiliate the entire judiciary and the Emperor."

Zong Zhao countered with another move. "You’re mistaken."

"Oh?" Fan Ding raised a brow.

Zong Zhao’s dark eyes lifted, his voice ironclad. "You won’t be the only one punished. Everyone who twisted this case will face consequences—regardless of rank, retirement status, or how far the web stretches. None of you will escape."