The tip of the pen hung three inches above the examination paper, unable to fall down.
I stared at the line of ink words, my head buzzing. On the desk were an inkstone, a writing brush, and an oil lamp, the wick of which was burning loudly. What's even more outrageous is that I'm wearing a blue gown that has been washed white and has two holes in the cuffs.
The unshaven candidate next to him was poking his forehead with a brush and staring at the paper with a bitter look on his face. The sound of the watchman banging his wooden clapper could be heard in the distance, three long and two short. Three quarters of a hour.
