Evan Foster finished talking about the pastry, and Minister of Ceremonies asked him again if he hadn’t slept well last night, saying there seemed to be dark circles under his eyes. After asking about the dark circles, he asked if handling official business was difficult, then asked why he was dressed so lightly on such a cold day—was it because the servants at home were neglecting him...

From concern about food and clothing to living and travel, from poetry and songs to life philosophy, they chatted until it was time to attend court. Only then did Minister of Ceremonies stroke his beard, smiling as he bid farewell.

Evan Foster secretly sighed.

【Minister of Ceremonies is actually a chatterbox? He talked so much I didn’t even have time to check out the gossip.】

【Forget it, let’s go to court first.】

Evan Foster looked ahead and happened to see Minister of Ceremonies's back. No matter how he looked at it, he felt the other must have had some good fortune today—he walked with a spring in his step, his whole gait much happier.

He also saw... Secretary of War looking at Minister of Ceremonies with a resentful expression?

【Hiss—】

【Could it be... there’s some “you love me, I get married, I don’t know you love me, you climb to a high position just to give me a resentful look” kind of past between Minister of Ceremonies and Secretary of War?】

“Bang—”

Minister of Ceremonies seemed to have accidentally stepped on his own trouser leg and fell flat on his face.

Evan Foster hurriedly put away those random thoughts and, along with the other officials, went forward to check on the fallen Minister of Ceremonies. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Secretary of War standing at the farthest spot, standing in a way that was... deliberate?

【Is this... avoiding suspicion? The more you try to hide, the more obvious it is...】

Suddenly, Secretary of War raised his voice: “Lord Zheng, are you all right!”

Minister of Ceremonies immediately replied, “I’m fine, I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Brother Reed!”

One smiled, the other smiled too, both full of the fake, polite concern of adults.

Evan Foster secretly took a bite of his pastry, his eyes lighting up—

【Still entangled! Still entangled!】

Forgive him—when he was bound to be dragged off to be executed at the Meridian Gate for cheating in the imperial exams sooner or later, all he could do was pass the days by watching gossip.

Anyway, he only muttered about these things in his heart, he’d never say them out loud. No big deal!

【I knew it, they definitely have some unspeakable past. Sure enough, one falls, and the other can’t help but show concern!】

【Oh oh! Their smiles froze again—did they realize they accidentally revealed their feelings and are now trying to cover it up?】

Evan Foster munched on his pastry, watching as Secretary of War finished asking after Minister of Ceremonies and then turned to walk briskly toward the door, his steps so decisive, his turn so crisp...

Evan Foster stood on tiptoe, peering over the thick crowd to catch a glimpse of Secretary of War's back, and blinked lightly.

【Strange, why does it feel like Secretary of War is fleeing in panic? Why is he wiping sweat?】

Of course, he would never take the little dramas in his head seriously—those were just things to amuse himself when bored.

【Could it be...】

Several people passing by Evan Foster unconsciously tensed up.

【Has something happened in the court?】

Just as he thought this, Evan Foster heard several light sighs of relief around him, as if people had just let out a breath. Evan Foster stepped aside a couple of paces, his face full of confusion.

＊

Evan Foster is a transmigrator.

And not just any transmigrator, but a useless one—weak, clueless about farming, and only able to run a thousand meters in eight minutes.

As for the essential transmigrator skills—smelting iron and steel, making gunpowder by hand, cement, hot air balloons, steam engines... he knew none of it.

His only stroke of luck was having a system. Although it was pretty useless and could only provide gossip, having a cheat at all meant he could still call himself a transmigrator. However, this system...

【Hey, hey, system, can you hear me?】

【Zzz... zzz... system malfunction... zzz...】

Today was another day when he couldn’t contact the system.

Evan Foster habitually turned off the system, straightened his official hat, and, head down, followed at the end of the line to attend the morning court.

His original self was seventeen this year—not exactly a prodigy. He only took the imperial exam to gain experience and get familiar with the process. Who would have thought a once-in-a-millennium flood would strike, affecting more than a dozen prefectures? The old emperor, moved by compassion, granted all candidates qualified for the prefectural exam direct promotion to “juren” status, to take the metropolitan exam the following February. He was one of them.

And because the metropolitan exam’s failure rate had reached ninety percent over the past decade, the court, to promote the exam system and ensure a supply of officials, enacted a series of policies for those who failed—

For example, those who failed the metropolitan exam still retained their titles; or, they could enter the Imperial Academy for further study, and then either keep taking the exam until they passed, or wait for an opportunity—maybe they’d get assigned to observe government work in various departments.

His original self... got lucky again. After entering the Imperial Academy, it wasn’t long before the Ministry of Personnel, short on staff, picked him to fill a post, making him a “Siwu” (ninth rank) in the Ministry of Personnel.

—Which meant he was responsible for collecting documents, registering miscellaneous matters, and distributing them to the various departments.

【For a minor official like me, I have no idea what got into Minister of Ceremonies this morning, coming to chat with me.】

A loud voice from the master of ceremonies above rang out: “Kneel—”

Evan Foster knelt down with the others.

“Bow—”

He bowed along with them.