so he xuan would've had to travel to take the imperial exams, and as far as i can tell from what i've looked up, the results get announced in front of everyone who took them. imagine this young man standing among the other candidates waiting for his name to be called 1/

and as they get further and further down the list nobody's gotten to him yet. so maybe he didn't come first, or second, maybe he's not even in the top ten, but they've read out so many names now and he's starting to worry. it's not arrogance, he knows he's talented. 2/

he knows because he's spent his life working towards this, because this talent is all he has to pull himself up and make the life his family deserves, because in a small town with no money to his name he has to work two, three times as hard for it. and now they're nearly at 3/

the end of the list and still nobody's called scholar he sheng, until there's no more names to call. except his. the very last. imagine the heartbreak, the certainty that there must be some mistake, he couldn't really have scored the lowest out of every single person. and 4/

imagine finding out that he /didn't/, but someone swapped his test scroll out anyway, just because he didn't have enough money to pay up a greeting gift like everyone else. it took everything he had to get here. it's slipping through his fingers like sand because people with 5/

more power and spite than him thought it would be funny, maybe, that they were teaching him a lesson, or just that they could do whatever they wanted who would step in on behalf of a poor scholar from nowhere remotely important? who'd believe him or who would care? it didn't 6/

even matter to them, doesn't even register that they've stolen his entire future for some cheap amusement, something they'll laugh about over drinks and forget about by morning. he sheng, with an endlessly bright future snatched away like it's nothing, making his way back 7/

to fu gu, heavy with the weight of expectations and loss and deep, helpless fury. the need to scream, to rage at a world that doesn't care and toys with a future like a plaything. the need to bite his tongue and stay silent and walk away from what he almost (should have) had 8/

knowing the people who did this will face no consequences, knowing loved ones are waiting for him with light hearts and hopeful smiles. and having to tell them, endure the awkward pity and stunned silence and words of comfort that fall short. feeling the shared anger and 9/

shared helplessness. he's clever and resourceful and a long, long way from giving up, but it cuts deep even as it fuels the determination flowing like blood to pull himself up and not let this be the end. the sharp bite of injustice, the first of many.