The college entrance examination paper asked about He Shen's house being ransacked. Just as I was about to write about Jiaqing, I was knocked unconscious by a basketball flying from the sidelines.
When he opened his eyes again, he was kneeling in front of Emperor Qianlong, wearing the patchwork uniform of a seventh-grade censor.
The court was arguing endlessly about the marriage of He Shen's son to the princess, and all the ministers in the palace were silent.
Qianlong, who was sitting on the dragon throne, suddenly asked me: "Xinke Yushi, what do you think?"
I touched the aching lump under my official hat, and the unfinished test paper flashed through my mind.
He leaned down and shouted: "I sincerely request your Majesty to inspect the He Mansion immediately to rectify the country's laws!"
In the deathly silence of the whole court, Qianlong's hand twisting the beads suddenly stopped.
Behind me, He Shen himself was smiling, stroking his jadeite fingers.
